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cheapshrimpysheep · 8 months ago

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Yuutsum 2

SUMMARY: What if you also have a Tsum? Then your Tsum and the Tsum of the person you like keep giving signs that they like each other? Ortho's part is platonic as always.

CHARACTERS: Twisted Tsumderland 2 Tsumsitters (Deuce; Azul; Jade; Kalim; Rook; Ortho; Lilia)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader

WARNING: Spoilers for the Twisted Tsumderland 2 Event and the Tsumsitter cards Vignettes.

WORD COUNT: An average of 600 words per character.

COMMENTS: This was originally a request from @taruruchi for my 1k celebration. Which you can read here. And since so many readers liked it, I decided to do what I normally do when this happens: Do this for ALL the characters! Grouped by event in this case.

Azul's part is different from the one I wrote for the request. At the time the event had not yet reached the English server, if I'm not mistaken.

I hope you enjoy 😉

Yuutsum 1 (Riddle; Cater; Leona; Jack; Floyd; Epel; Sebek)

Yuutsum 3 (Ace; Trey; Ruggie; Jamil; Vil; Idia; Malleus; Silver)

CONTEXT: Like the original Twisted Tsumderland 2 event, this takes place after the events of the first Twisted Tsumderland. And, surprise, your Tsum is back! But it's the only one, all the other Tsums that came with it are completely new visitors.

You were with your Tsum in the lounge of Ramshackle Dorm, and it wouldn't leave the window as if it was waiting for something. You ask if it wants to go somewhere, but it shakes its head and continues looking out the window.

A short time later you heard a loud bang at the front door as if something had been thrown at it, and your Tsum finally leaves the window and hops towards the door. Even before you open the door, you can hear Ace laughing and Deuce complaining.

When you open it, you find Deuce struggling to contain his Tsum who is trying to break free from his arms.

“Sorry (Y/N).” Deuce apologizes “I can't contain this guy. It started running... or hopping, like crazy when it realized we were going to pass by here.”

Your Tsum makes that cute tsum noise to get the attention of Deuce and his tsum. The two look down and their eyes light up as they see your Tsum. Deuce’s tsum breaks free from Deuce's arms and lands right next to your Tsum. And the two tsums begin to rub their little faces and noses against each other. Deuce blushes automatically.

Ace, who watched the whole scene, stopped laughing and was now looking at the tsums with a sulky face. “Oi? What's up now with this guy?” he questions.

“I-I-I don't know.” It's the only thing Deuce can say in response.

“Hey, wait a minute.” Ace continues. “Your Tsum came back? Why? Our housewarden's didn't. Neither did Cater's.”

You say you don't know.

“Maybe your tsum is dragged into everyone's messes too.” Deuce says, smiling. “Not even it has a break with us, hum?”

Your Tsum headbutts Deuce's Tsum to get its attention, taps one of its little hands on the ground 5 times and Deuce's Tsum realizes the urgency of something. The two tsums start hopping towards the gate.

“OI! WHERE ARE YOU GOING NOW?” Deuce shouted.

The three of you run after the Tsums, but they reach the Hall of Mirrors first and go through the mirror to Heartslabyul.

“Well, on the one hand they saved us work.” Ace says.

“Yes, but they are on the loose!” Deuce replies.

You go through the mirror, run a little further and stop abruptly when you come across Riddle and Trey. Your tsums were close to their feet and were still very close to each other.

“See? They arrived on time.” Trey says. “They must have just had a little mishap with the tsums. Right?”

Ace and Deuce confirm. Riddle welcomes you and invites you to the Unbirthday Party that will be happening soon. He also tells Ace and Deuce to go do their party preparation duties. After he and Trey leave, Deuce realizes what happened.

“I get it now. Your tsum was telling mine the time, and warning it that we were going to be late.”

“Damn, even your Tsum needs two Tsumsitters.” Ace laughs. And Deuce-tsum hits him.

When it was preparing to hit him a second time, your Tsum got in the way and started rubbing its face against Deuce-tsum’s, calming it down.

“See my point?” Ace adds, and this time it's your Tsum that hits him.

You were walking through the school hallways, with your Tsum in your arms, when you crossed paths with Floyd. He automatically smiled when he saw your Tsum.

You ask each other what the other is doing there and Floyd tells you that he was playing a board game with Azul and his Tsum. He says that he left them playing with each other in the classroom. You feel your Tsum move excitedly in your arms.

After saying goodbye to each other you go to the classroom where Floyd said they were. You knock on the door and pop your head inside. You see both Azul and his Tsum immersed in the game, but not enough to not notice your presence.

“Oh, good afternoon (Y/N).” Azul greets you with a smile. His Tsum quickly looks towards the door when it hears him say your name. “Please come in.” You do so. “Is there anything you need or-” He sees your Tsum and widens his eyes with a sparkle in them.

Azul-tsum makes that happy tsum sound, jumps to the floor, stops for a second, jumps back onto the table to make its move on the board game, and then gets off the table again to hop happily towards you. Your tsum jumps out of your arms and lands on the ground. And when Azul-tsum finally reaches yours the two begin to cuddle with each other.

Azul was focused on the game and only after making his play “Okay tsum, your tu-” did he look at the two tsums, and blushes slightly. He clears his throat loudly causing his tsum to look at him.

Azul’s tsum turns to yours and makes another cute sound, then the two of them hop back to the table. Azul's tsum returns to its place on the other side of the board, but yours jumps into Azul's arms to his surprise. He managed to catch it, then it looked at him and smiled with its eyes, making Azul stare at it in wonder.

“I'll concede that you are indeed charmingly cute.” He then whispers to himself: “As much as the person you resemble.”

You approach to sit with them and Azul suggests that you sit next to his tsum. The two Azuls exchange a suspicious look with each other.

They keep playing. When it's not Azul's turn, your tsum makes little sounds or something that makes him look at it. And when it's not Azul-tsum's turn, it seems to be undecided between paying attention to the board or looking at you so you can pet it. In the end, the two were practically tied, but Azul-tsum makes a play that makes it win the game. Both his tsum and your tsum celebrate, coming back to cuddle with each other.

“Ah, so that was your real move.” Azul said with a smirk. “You used (Y/N)'s tsum to distract me. Actually no, worse than that, you two are partners in crime.”

The two tsums looked smugly at Azul. But he didn't seem upset despite having lost. In fact, he seemed to be looking thoughtfully at the tsums. You ask what's wrong or if he's okay.

“Oh, don't worry, it's nothing. I was just thinking...” He looks back at the tsums who look back at him with an encouraging look. Both of them. “From what I've been able to observe, tsums have a lot in common with the person they resemble, especially their personality. After seeing how these two work together I was just wondering...” He looks at you and smiles confidently. “Wouldn't you happen to have the same interest as your tsum in being my partner too? Hum... partner in crime, I mean.”

You were walking through the Main street with your Tsum in your arms, when you see a little thing hopping towards you. It stops right in front of you, at your feet, and smiles at you with its eyes, making that cute tsum sound, as if it were greeting you politely. From the side where the dark grey strand is facing and from the calm demeanor, you can tell it's Jade's tsum.

Your tsum makes the cute tsum sound back to Jade-tsum and you let your tsum jump to the ground for the two to rub their faces against each other.

After that, you hear footsteps approaching you. Looking ahead you see Jade. His tsum looks at him and then jumps into your arms smiling at you with its cute little eyes. When Jade gets close to you he laughs.

“He he. You are quite cunning indeed, tsum. Or should I just say coward at this point?” He was still smiling, but with that look that was worryingly difficult to decode. Then he looks at you. “Forgive me for not greeting you first, (Y/N). I got... worried about the tsum when I lost sight of it. I'm genuinely relieved that you were the one to find it safe and sound.” He looks down at your tsum. “Aw, what a lovely sight, your sweet tsum is back.”

You feel Jade-tsum tense up in your arms, but it barely moves. Jade bends down and holds out his cupped hands for your tsum to jump into them. You feel Jade-tsum once again tense slightly, but without moving. Jade raises your tsum in front of his face. It smiles at him innocently.

“Undoubtedly adorable.” Jade says. “But you shouldn't just jump into anyone's hands like that.” He lowers his hands to chest height, holds the tsum with one hand while, with the other, he makes a claw-like movement as if he were going to imprison it. “It could be dangerous.” He looks at his own tsum in your arms, who still doesn't move.

“But it didn't just jump into anyone's hands.” You say. He looks at you meeting your eyes. “However you're right, it can be very dangerous. But you should have told that to YOUR tsum.”

Both Jade and his Tsum are surprised by what you said. And suddenly you tighten your hug around Jade-tsum as if you were Floyd squeezing someone. But in this case, you are squeezing the tsum with love and affection. It waves its little arms and legs as if it were asking for help, but not trying very hard to escape.

Jade laughs delightedly, and frees your tsum from his clutches, taking it to his chest just to pet it affectionately. He looks at that little angel face face that knew he wouldn't hurt you or your tsum and smiles.

“In fact, you are a danger on the loose.” He jokes. “Tell me, would the both of you like to accompany me and my little lookalike to Mostro Lounge? We came here for a stroll around campus because I thought it would be a nice bonding exercise. But I’m sure that something like sharing a smoothie, for example, could also be great for bonding.”

You look happy with the idea of going with them to Mostro Lounge. But in the meantime you realize that tsums don't have mouths. How could they share a drink?

“Oh, well, perhaps I wasn't referring to the tsums.” He smiles at you with that bold confidence.

Kalim, his tsum and Jamil took a magic carpet tour of campus. Kalim-tsum’s eyes were sparkling the whole time during it, but something must have piqued its interest because after that it disappeared.

Meanwhile, you were with your tsum in the Ramshackle Dorm lounge when you heard someone knocking on the door. You open it to find... no one. Until you hear that happy tsum sound near your feet. You look down and see a Kalim-tsum smiling at you with its eyes.

As soon as you say hello, it wastes no time in jumping on your shoulder and brushing its face against your cheek. You hear another tsum sound behind you. You turn around and Kalim-tsum sees your tsum. Kalim-tsum makes another happy sound and jumps off your shoulder to hug your tsum. Or at least that's what it looked like despite its short arms.

If that tsum was there without Kalim, most likely he was looking for it. And consequently Jamil too. Therefore, you decide to take the two tsums in your arms and go find Kalim.

Just as you predicted, you found Kalim and Jamil together on Main Street. When Kalim sees you from afar, he happily waves his arms in the air to call you to join them.

“Hi (Y/N)!” Kalim greets you. “I'm so glad I found you! I really wanted you to meet-” He looks at the two little creatures you carry in your arms when you get close to him. “AH! You found it! You're amazing!”

Jamil sighs with relief. And then they both realize what, or rather, who, the other little creature is. Kalim's eyes shine and a huge smile spreads across his face.

“It can't be! There's one like you too! It's so cute! Aw, I want to hug it so much! Can I? Can I? Pretty pleeease~?”

If you’re more outgoing, your tsum will smile with its eyes at him. If you are more shy, your tsum will be too flattered and hide its face in your arms. Which will make Kalim find it even cuter.

“I know they may look like plushies,” Jamil says “but I don’t think you should treat them like one.”

“Don't worry, I won't hurt it.” Kalim says both to Jamil and to you.

“I'm also worried about the other way around. If that is even possible.”

“What? No way!” Kalim stretches out his arms welcomingly for your tsum to jump into them. And it does. He turns to Jamil. “You don't really think this adorable little thing would hurt anyone, do you?”

Jamil looks at your tsum, who smiles at him with its eyes and he blushes slightly to the point of having to look away. “Appearances can be deceiving.”

“And I am a great judge of character.” Kalim completed confidently. He brings your tsum close to his face to see it better. “Oh, if you were bigger I could hug you for real.”

This gives your tsum an idea and suddenly it starts to grow, which takes everyone by surprise, until it stops at the size of a pillow. Kalim has no other way to hold it other than hugging it and that's what he does. He hugs it tight like it's the most adorable thing on earth and he never wants to let it go.

And apparently, Kalim's tsum wants the same treatment, but from you, so it also grows to the size of a pillow for you to hug it.

Jamil looks at you all slightly uncomfortably and can only say: “If you ever do that to each other, at least get a room first.”

It was already late in the afternoon. You were walking across campus with your tsum in your arms when you heard a "CUT!". You have heard that a few other times before, it was Vil's voice and he must have been filming something for the film club.

Your tsum moves in your arms as if it was also curious to see what he was doing. You follow the sound and walk until you reach the Main Street.

“Rehearsal is over.” You hear Vil say and you stop. “Now we must capture this scene before the sun sets. Focus!”

That sounded like your cue not to interrupt him. You weren't at a place where you could appear in the frame, so you just wait there, watching, just like your tsum. However, someone else was watching the scene as well, hidden in the bushes.

“Now the real fun begins.” Rook says, both to his tsum and to Epel, that he dragged it with him. “Let us watch Vil and the rest of the club shine!”

Rook's tsum hops eagerly and the two observe Vil, until something else catches the tsum's attention and it looks to the side. Rook notices this.

“You changed the target of your attention, monsieur tsum. What could have possible divert your gaze from Vil?” He follows the tsum's gaze and finds you, standing there watching Vil. “Bien sûr, there could only be one reason.” He sees your Tsum in your arms. “Oh, marvelous! Tricster's tsum is back! Even more beauty to behold.”

Everything goes smoothly until the end of the recordings. And it is only when Vil sees you and greets you that you approach him. His attention (and everyone's actually) goes to your tsum.

“I see you've also been assigned as a tsumsitter.” Vil says. “I heard it had shown up the first time this happened, but I ended up not having the pleasure of meeting it. I'm glad I got this chance.” He smiles at your tsum who looks at him in wonder. “One also appeared in Pomefiore. A Rook lookalike.”

You feel your tsum spasm in your arms, and then you hear something jumping towards you. You turn around and a wild Rook-tsum appears and greets you with that happy tsum sound.

Your tsum jumps to the ground and lets Rook-tsum approach it first. It jumps to get closer to your tsum but, to everyone's surprise, your tsum dodges and runs away.

You panic a little, your tsum had never done that until now, and Rook-tsum goes jumping after your tsum, even though it has already lost sight of it. You are about to start running to look for them when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You are startled by Rook's sudden appearance.

“Worry not, trickster. I have been following monsieur tsum and it has been an enriching experience. You could accompany me and we can observe them together. There is no place they can go that I won't find them.” he winks.

You go with Rook following your tsums. You notice that every now and then your tsum stops as if provoking Rook-tsum and when it is about to catch your tsum, it dodges again and continues running away.

“How fascinating.” Rook laughs “Tell me, doesn't it look like they're playing with each other?”

You continue following the tsums to the botanical garden, already in the early evening. Where they finally stop. Or rather, where your tsum finally lets itself be caught, in the subtropical zone. You see Rook-tsum clinging to your tsum and making a movement with its head as if were kissing your tsum passionately.

“I wonder...” Rook says “If this is all some kind of mating ritual for the tsums.” he laughs seeing your reaction. “What's wrong, trickster? That look is not from someone who dislikes the idea~ Is there anything your heart would like to share? Because any question you have about mine can be answered by looking at monsieur tsum.”

You were walking through campus with your Tsum in your arms when you heard something above you.

“PREFECT!” You hear Ortho's voice shout from somewhere. “LOOK OUT!”

You see an unidentified flying object coming towards you at high speed. Your instinct is to cower and duck. But the object stopped before it hit you and landed on the ground in front of you. You look and see an Ortho-tsum. Ortho approaches you.

“He he he. Did we scare you? Sorry. Are you OK?” He asks. You answer that you are. “I’m glad. We just wanted to surprise you. Have you already heard of these little creatures called tsums, (Y/N)?”

You stand up, revealing your tsum that had been hidden in your arms when you ducked. Both Ortho and his tsum are happy to see your tsum.

“OH! One like you also appeared! So cool!”

Ortho-tsum uses its new device to fly towards your tsum, who got surprised by it. Your tsum jumps from your arms to the ground and gestures for Ortho-tsum to come closer to it.

Ortho-tsum lands near your tsum again and it starts walking around ortho-tsum as if it is examining the new device suspiciously. The tsum make sounds as if they were chatting.

“I don't know what they're saying...” Ortho laughs. “But from the tone and what they're doing, it seems like your tsum is worried about my tsum's new antigravity device. The audio of the noises I'm capturing sounds similar to a scene from a movie I have stored in my memory, where an older sister is saying things like 'Where did you get that?', ‘Are you sure it's safe?’, ‘You could get hurt.’ Ha ha ha.”

After this conversation between the tsums, Ortho's tsum flies for a second, lands again and makes an inviting sound for your tsum. It jumps on Ortho-tsum's back and the two slowly and carefully take flight.

“I think it wants to play with your tsum. Will you play with us too (Y/N)? Pretty Please?”

If you feel safe with Ortho, he will take you flying on his back. If you're scared he'll say: “It's okay, I understand. We can play close to the ground. We don't need to go up to the clouds to have fun together."

After walking around campus you decided to stop to rest on one of the benches in the Courtyard. You sit down and your tsum stays on your lap. A few seconds later, when you thought you could rest a little, something falls into your lap and on top of your tsum, startling you both.

After enjoying your reactions, the new tsum jumps next to you on the bench and turns to face you. It's a Lilia's tsum.

“Yay! Your tsum is back!” A voice behind you startles you and your tsum again, making it jump from your lap to Lilia-tsum's side.

Your tsum starts making sounds like it's complaining, but Lilia-tsum starts rubbing its face against your tsum to calm it down.

“Khee hee hee. Sorry.” Lilia says upside down, floating next to you. “You were trying to rest, weren't you?” He gestured for the tsums to move away so he could sit next to you.

They jump into your lap, where they get so close that it looks more like they're snuggling in a nest.

“I know it may not seem like it, but my tsum was getting tired too. But neither it nor I could resist surprising you and your tsum. Isn't it as charming and cute as me?”

You look at the tsums in your lap who seemed to be cuddled up sleeping. You joke that Tsum can be cuter.

“Ow, you're just saying that because of the plush shape it has. But looking at you and your tsum, I understand what you mean. Your tsum is also cuter than you.” He sees you pout slightly, and smiles mischievously. “Khee hee hee. Looks like someone didn't like being hit with their own spell.”

Lilia-tsum wakes up from its short nap and jumps to the ground, waking up your tsum as well. Lilia-tsum makes an inviting happy sound to your tsum, who also jumps off your lap to join it.

“I think it wants to play with your tsum now.”

You and Lilia follow your tsums to see what they will do. They prank a student. He was distracted reading a magazine when Lilia-tsum makes a sound that catches his attention. He looks, sees Lilia's tsum, rubs his eyes, looks again, and sees Lilia's and yours tsums. He rubs his eyes again, looks again and only sees your tsum. He gets up startled, looks the other way, looks back to where the tsum were and there is nothing there anymore. You hear him walking away wondering if he's going crazy or hallucinating.

You and Lilia laugh. And then Lilia has another idea for a prank.

The four of you go to the library and find two students chatting at a table. One of them is telling the other that he had seen Lilia transform into a small, round creature in front of him. The other wondered if it was some shapeshifting spell or some prank of Lilia's. Lilia-tsum hopped over to them.

“SEE?! HERE! This was the creature I saw Lilia transform into!”

You appear and greet the students. Lilia-tsum jumps into your arms in front of them and Lilia casts a light spell that temporarily blinds them, long enough for your tsum to take your place. When the students look again, they find two tsums.

“AHH! It's not a spell, it's some curse!” the other student says. “If any of them touch us, we become one of them too!”

Your two tsums walk slowly but menacingly towards them, and the students run away. Lilia bursts out laughing.

“This must have been the best one yet. Don't you also think it's funny when two big boys run away in fear from a cute little thing?”

The two tsums return to you. Lilia-tsum looks tired.

“We don't have that much stamina at this age, do we?” Lilia says smiling. He holds out his arms for his tsum to jump into them, but it doesn't. “Um? You don't want me to carry you?”

Lilia-tsum walks up to your tsum and cuddles with it.

“Oho, I see. In that case...” Lilia takes his blazer off his shoulders and ties the ends together as if making a hammock. “Okay you little lovebirds, here's a nest for you.” The two tsums jump in and snuggle together. “In fact, there is one thing cuter than our separate tsums: them together.” He looks at you, but the cute smile turns into a mischievous one when he sees your face. “What's wrong? Don't tell me you don't think they would make a pretty couple. That would break my heart.”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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cerisereids · 2 months ago

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𝗜𝘁 𝗔𝗶𝗻'𝘁 𝗠𝗲, 𝗕𝗮𝗯𝗲- 𝗦.𝗥.

Pairing- PostPrison!Spencer Reid x Liaison!OldMoney!Reader

WC- 5.6k

Summary- You have to rekindle things with an old flame for a case. It helps Spencer realize some deep-seated feelings.

Contains- modern!liaison!reader, canon-typical violence, description of crime scene photos, Spencer is literally feral, reader is in her late twenties, reader has long hair (or hair long enough to flip over her shoulder), mentions of cheating, reader's ex is the worst, mention of cocaine, the case probably isn't canon compliant

A/N- This was fully inspired by the episode The Black Queen where Penelope bumps into her ex bon appetit, divider from @cafekitsune!!! Also!! Hugest shout-out to @cheriesbucky for all your help with this!! You are the best ever!!

You're holed up in your office, your finger aggressively running over your laptop's touch pad. Your eyes scan each email as thoroughly as you can, case files never-ending. A pink mug of coffee is filled to the brim, fueling your rapid scrolling.

A new one pops to the top of your inbox, and your blood runs cold. You're stopped in your tracks, the same way you always are when case files begin with 'Provincetown, Massachusetts'.

Your finger hovers shakily over the track pad, clicking the email to find gruesome crime scenes photos. This particular unsub's dump site is achingly familiar, even after all this time. Multiple bodies lay on a coastal beach, posed for the police to find.

You bring your mug to your lips, taking a tentative sip as you study the PDF filling your screen. Extortion and murder within a high end law firm. The arms on your hair prickle at that, a chill unzipping down your spine.

Engrossed in your screen, you barely notice the time. 8:04. The team has been waiting in the conference room for 4 minutes, and you need to present them a case. You sigh in resignation. It turns out you're going to Provincetown.

You jump out of your chair almost cartoonishly. You scramble, printing hard copies of the case file, folding your laptop under your arm as you grab your coffee mug. Your heels clack rapidly against the linoleum floor as you desperately balance the coffee sloshing around in your mug.

The strong musk of coffee wafts through your nose as you enter the stuffy conference room. Sunlight peeks through the shaded windows, a sliver of golden light brightening a room that's seen so much darkness.

The chaos you're emanating mirrors exactly what you've felt inside since viewing the case file currently in your clutches.

"Sorry I'm late!" you squeal, setting your coffee down in your haste. You catch a certain brown eyed doctor smile over the rim of his own coffee cup as you shove the hard copies his way.

"Our case..today..." you trail off, fidgeting with the technology as the first crime scene finally loads on the large flat screen. Anxiety pricks like tiny pin needles, poking each one of your nerves as the familiar photograph pops up on the screen. Your shaking hands smooth over your buttery yellow dress, willing yourself to calm the adrenaline coursing through you. You hope your anxiety goes unnoticed, though you know it's unlikely in a room full of profilers.

"Our case today is in Provincetown, Massachusetts," you state. Saying it aloud proves to be confirmation of what you already know to be true. Your heart sinks to the deepest pit in your stomach. There's no getting out of this case, no matter how hard you try.

"White collar?" a curious voice pulls you out of your stupor.

Your eyes dart to the man in front of you. Ruffed hair and a suit that fits perfectly snug, Spencer Reid flips through his case file. You try your hardest to focus on the glimmer of his cuff links, the flex of his deft fingers, anything to keep your mind off your impending trip to the east.

"Extortion," Emily specifies.

You punctuate her point with more grim photos. Multiple victims sprawled out on an all-too familiar coastal beach. You shift on your heels, hands rising to your hips as if you could move around the discomfort this peculiar nostalgia brings.

"Multiple victims left on Herring Cove Beach, shot execution style. All victims had taken large cash withdrawals from the bank," you conclude.

The team rattles off theories, bouncing off each other in a way you've come to enjoy in your short time at the BAU. You can't pay attention, though, to anything other than the erratic beat of your heart, the boiling heat singeing your stomach.

You're silent on the jet, your focus drifting in and out of the team's conversation. You have to fight the guilt creeping its way into your gut. You're acting like a child, your head petulantly turned toward the window.

It isn't long before Spencer sits across from you, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. It's not as if you don't want to see him. You'd never deny the chance to look into his stunning brown eyes. You just know he's figured you out, not bothering to hide the knowing uptick of his lip.

You haven't known Spencer long, just in the few short months since his release. You were hired on while the team was actively trying to release him. An extra set of eyes and ears trained for the media soon became an essential part in doing so. You've been enamored with him since, his mysterious aura creating a magnetic pull you can't escape.

"What's bothering you?" he asks. It's soft, tentative, testing your limits of what you'll share.

"Nothing," you breathe, though you know it's a lost cause.

All it takes is the uptick of his right brow, a look in his eye that sears right through you. You shift once more, willing yourself to get rid of the weight resting heavy on your chest.

"I'm from Provincetown. It's been 5 years since I've been back," you confess, avoiding eye contact. Your eyes are trained on the puffy clouds you float above.

"Ah..." Spencer nods, a knowing smile on his face. "I've been there."

Your eyes dart to his, eyebrows raised in suspicion. Since you've met Spencer upon his release from prison, he's presented as cool, collected. Not someone who feels as unraveled as you are now.

"Every time we go to Las Vegas," he affirms, and a soft smile spreads across your lips. "I feel the same way you do. Guilty, anxious, like your gut's been singed with a fire poker."

The way he reads you so easily completely unravels you, your heart clutches as it picks up in speed. You know he's a top class profiler, but the way he looks at you, it's like he's been waiting for you. To read you, study you, look at you.

"That's exactly it," you muse, your chin resting in the palm of your hand. You avoid eye contact once more, his gaze piercing straight through you.

"Hey! Lovebirds!" Rossi calls from the other end of the jet. "We got a suspect, get over here."

A white hot embarrassment pools in your stomach, all eyes trained on you and Spencer as you make your way to the front of the jet. You sit next to Emily, as far away as you can get from Spencer. You feel his eyes on you still.

"Provincetown PD just called," Emily informed you, "they just made a positive identification. A man named Preston Langford was caught by one of the security cameras fleeing the scene of the dumping site. He was driving with another unidentified male in the car. They're on the lam."

Your stomach drops at the name, the rest of Emily's words falling on deaf ears. They're replaced with a high pitched whine ringing through your ears. Your thoughts race, pinging around your head like a pinball. Preston. A suspect. The thought makes you nauseous. though you're not entirely surprised.

At the sound of your name, your eyes snap open to see Emily staring at you with a look of concern. You must not have responded the first time she said it. As soon as you're aware, your cheeks heat up with embarrassment as all of the teammates’ eyes are on you once more.

"Are you okay?" she asks, her brows furrowing.

You swallow the lump in your throat, refusing to look at anyone as you mumble, "Preston Langford is my ex-boyfriend."

Her words ring in Spencer's ear even after they step off the jet. "Preston Langford is my ex-boyfriend." White hot jealousy has seared through him since the words fell off her lips. It's unlike him, this animalistic urge to keep her as far away from this man as possible.

He watches the way she greets the local PD, introducing the team, a sweet smile on her face. The way their eyes linger on her as the wind drifts through her hair makes him want to boil over. Her light dress flows gently, hugging her body in a way that makes his head spin.

He knows they're not the only men looking at her like this, a fact he's become increasingly aware of in the past few weeks. Upon his return to the team after his release, she was the last thing he expected. He understands the reasoning behind her hire, the need for extra hands while he was behind bars. She's completely and totally thrown him, though. She's unlocked this magnetism within him, this animalistic urge to have her close at all times.

Frustration crawls up his spine as he watches her go, leaving to address the media before the story leaks. People flock to her, seeing exactly what he does. It drives him insane. The heat of the beach forces a drop of sweat down his brow, he squeezes his eyes shut before ripping his suit jacket off. He's left in his white button down, sleeves now rolled up to the elbow.

The sweet, coconutty smell of the sunscreen she's just applied invades his senses before he even sees her. He cracks his neck, scrambling for at least a semblance of patience before he looks at her. Her brows are furrowed in concern, a feather light touch on his forearm that sends his brain into a nauseating spin.

"Spencer," she starts, the worry lacing her tone clutching at his heart, "is everything okay?"

"Yeah," he mutters, gruff and distant, "fine. Just hot." He refuses to make eye contact with her, his hands flexing at his sides.

"Yeah, okay..." she trails off, unbelieving. "Well, I have some financial records of our victims here. Each of them made large withdrawals of cash once a week in the months leading up to the murders. Go crazy, Doctor."

The title unzips a shiver down his spine, goosebumps rising on his heated flesh. He feels his cheeks heat, no doubt tinting red. It's the sun. It has to be. She walks away again, and it's slow, torturous. The wind clings her clothing to her body in a way that's nearly sinful. It's not long until sickly guilt boils in the pit of his stomach. He has no right to look at her like this, especially not after he spoke to her like that.

He wipes his brow, trying to pour every ounce of himself into these financial records. His eyes scan the documents in his usual rapid speed, and it's not long before he's got a lead. He charges up the beach, rounding up the team in one of the tents the local PD set up on the beach.

"All of our victims spent exactly $150 over the course of the last two months, once a week, immediately after they made their cash withdrawals from the bank," Spencer spreads out the records before his team, each of them moving closer to the shaky white picnic table to inspect them for themselves.

"Do we know where?" Emily asks, looking up at Spencer.

"Somewhere called The Westbury Club," Spencer answers.

"The Westbury?" a high pitched voice calls out from the entrance of the tent. His eyes dart to her, frozen there with a look of shock painted on her face.

"You know it?" Tara asks, and she shifts awkwardly in her spot.

"Yeah...yeah. Preston used to take me there, it's been his favorite spot for I don't even know how long," she shakes her head incredulously.

Spencer rolls his eyes, stifling a groan at the thought that this guy's 'favorite spot' is a place called The Westbury Club.

"Well, let's scope it out," Rossi states, moving towards her and pointing, "you're coming with us."

She shrugs, and turns to follow him.

The team pulls up to a large, white building with ivy crawling across the front. A simple, sleek sign above the door reads The Westbury Club. Spencer stays close to her as they make their way inside.

"Wow!" the bartender exclaims once they're inside, "what a surprise!" He's looking right at her, and Spencer sees an uncomfortable smile stretch her lips.

"Hi, Mike," she reaches over to shake his hand.

"Gosh, how long has it been, 5 years? We all knew you'd go on to do incredible things," his smile seems sincere, so why does she seem so anxious?

"Well, thanks, that's sweet," she breathes, "hey, I have a question for you. Preston still come around here?" The name almost hurts Spencer's ears.

"Every Thursday, always with the same group of people. Why?" the bartender replies.

"We're going to need copies of your security tapes from every Thursday over the last three months," she orders, and there's something about her assertive tone that invigorates him, swells his chest with pride.

The bartender leaves, and she leans back on the bar, taking in her surroundings.

"This place hasn't changed a bit," her voice is laced with disdain as her eyes dart around.

"You went here a lot?" the words are gritty on Spencer's tongue. The thought of her dressed to the nines, sitting across from some loser who's now a primary suspect, makes him want to boil over in rage.

"Every Thursday," the confession rocks Spencer, the idea that she could mean so much to this guy that his crimes are modeled after her. Not that he's their unsub or anything.

"Really?" Rossi's voice comes from behind them, approaching from the back of the restaurant. "You think we can use that?"

Spencer doesn't like the suggestion lingering in Rossi's tone. Nerves crawl up his spine like tiny spiders.

"How?" she inquires, as she shifts her weight and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Well, tomorrow's Thursday," he states, nodding to the bartender who's now returned with a USB drive, "think he'll be here this week?"

"I can almost guarantee it," Mike replies, a concerned look in his eye.

"Alright," Rossi huffs, "then there's something I might need you to do for us," he nods towards her, and Spencer knows whatever it is, he's not going to like it.

You're sitting in an FBI van parked outside The Westbury. Your 'night-out' makeup paints your skin, red lips and a smoky eye accentuating your features. A tight, deep red dress hugs your frame, black heels lifting you an extra four inches. Your eyes are trained on Rossi's shoe, your leg bouncing as you try and focus on the words coming out of his mouth.

"You're the only one of us that has a connection to our main suspect, so you need to be as smooth as possible," Rossi declares.

You nod shakily, a nauseating mix of anxiety and adrenaline thrumming through your veins. Rossi squares your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. You catch Spencer in your peripheral, nestled in the corner of the van.

He looks about as nervous as you, his frame wrapped in a sleek, navy suit, his fingers interlaced in a death grip. He rests his elbows on his knees, his brows furrowed in what looks like frustration. Your own brows mirror his, unsure of what's been wrong with him since you've touched down in Massachusetts.

"You guys are going to be just fine. I don't know what this guy was like as a boyfriend, but judging from his financial records he's not a peach. He can't get to you anymore. You're simply undercover, and Spencer will be right next to you the whole time" Rossi's voice is calm, it grounds you in these last few moments before you're faced with Preston once again.

Your heels click against the pavement in time with the tap of Spencer's formal shoes. As you walk towards the restaurant, a faint hum of classical music wafting out into the parking lot.

You don't make it very far until his pinky hesitantly links with yours, a soft gesture that doesn't match the hard exterior he's put on the past few days. You turn your head towards him slightly, catching his flushed skin and bashful smile. The soft light emanating from the restaurant coat him in a golden glow, and you take a moment to be selfish, to truly absorb how gorgeous he looks like this.

"You have nothing to worry about, you know," Spencer mutters, his gaze falling towards the concrete. "You're handling this case perfectly, just like you do every other case you work on. Just because we're here doesn't change that."

"Thanks, Spence," you breathe out, your cheeks heating slightly at the compliment. He nods, subtle yet firm, reassuring as you two approach the door.

The golden lights of The Westbury coat your skin. The familiar hum of intimate conversation and clinking wine glasses wafts through the air. You close your eyes and take a breath, summoning the you that existed five years ago, standing next to a man planted so firmly in your present.

You assume the part of a couple once you enter the restaurant, Spencer opens the door for you, a large hand splayed on the small of your back as you enter. You greet the hostess with the sparkle in your eye of a woman deeply in love, your arms wrapped around Spencer's.

As you're led to your table, you scan the expanse of the restaurant, and your heart stops when you spot the familiar head of blonde hair. His eyes are on you the second yours find him, and it strikes you. His eyes shoot straight through you like a bullet. You play hard to get, looking away, but not before you take in the faces surrounding him. Unfortunately, they all look like every other man that exists in your hometown. The classic coastal cut and fit- flowing hair, matched with pastel button downs and tight fitted slacks.

You roll your eyes as you turn your gaze towards Spencer, the waitress bringing two glasses of deep red wine. You raise your brows in time with your glass, clinking it with Spencer's as you take a sip.

"He's seen me already," you hum lowly, a smirk painting your lips to convey a different message to any possible onlookers.

"Really?" Spencer asks, and it's flirtatious in nature. You have to remind yourself he's playing a part, you're undercover.

"Mmhm," you smile, resting your chin in your hand. You take another selfish moment, imagining what it would be like to do this with him for real. Being able to go over every insane part of your day together, to share a meal and walk home hand in hand, slightly tipsy.

"Guy's got eyes like a hawk," Spencer huffs, and you swear, you catch a bit of disdain there. It's different, not the same vein in which the team normally discusses a suspect. Almost...jealous.

"Yeah, well, we really need to give him a show if we want him over here," you giggle, lacing your hands with his over the table. "He's the most stubborn person I've ever known. It'd take a miracle to get him to approach me first."

You feel Spencer squeeze your hand at that, a vein popping in his forehead. He fixes his face quick, though, his free hand reaching to grace your cheek. It's then you truly realize the expanse of his hands, how tiny your cheek feels in comparison to his large palm.

"We better give him something to be real stubborn about, then," Spencer murmurs as he shifts closer, leaning his face closer to yours ever so slightly.

You sit like this for the briefest moment, taking in each freckle, scar, and dimple. You don't know when you'll be this close to him again, and he's too beautiful for you to pass up the opportunity to take all of him in.

Your attention is pulled by a low chuckle coming from the other end of the table, and your heart sinks. You know precisely who it belongs to, and you're brutally shoved back into the reality of your situation.

"Didn't think I'd ever see you here again," Preston's voice is gruff, angry. You know it all too well. Your eyes drag slowly towards him, refusing to leave Spencer's as your heart begins to race.

"Oh!" you exclaim in faux shock, and Preston rolls his eyes, the ice clinking in his glass. "Hey, you..." you trail off, eyes scanning him from top to bottom. A glint of playfulness dances in your eye, Rossi's words echoing in your brain. Make him think you still want him, even if you're with someone else. He's a narcissist, our profile says so, you know it. He won't be able to resist you if he thinks you still have feelings for him.

It makes you nauseous, and you fight off a shiver, letting it roll off your spine as to not give yourself away. Spencer squeezes your hand again, and it gives you the confidence to keep going. You flip your hair over your shoulder, letting your chin rest there as you bat your eyelashes.

"It's good to see you, how have you been?" you ask flirtatiously, a cunning smile curling your lips.

"Clearly not as good as you," he nods to Spencer without looking at him, taking a step closer to you.

Spencer tenses, you can feel it in the way his hand freezes in yours. You squeeze his this time.

"Yeah? And how good do you think I've been?" your tone is light, lilting, though your heart sits at the bottom of your stomach like a rock.

"Why don't you tell me?" his voice is low, an attempt to be sultry that flies right over you.

You see Spencer out of the corner of your eye, his trained on every move of the table Preston walked away from. He squeezes your hand again, a feather light tap of his finger letting you know he's got something. What it is, you're not sure.

Spencer pulls his hand from yours, a rough clearing of his throat breaking through the conversation. Finally, Preston turns his attention to Spencer. Nerves poke at your gut, hot and fiery.

"Who's this?" Preston asks, attempting to be nonchalant. His iron grip on his drink gives him away, though, clear as day.

You really didn't think it'd be this easy, but then you remember he cheated on you after five years with your best friend from high school. He clearly doesn't have much willpower, if any at all.

"Her boyfriend," Spencer punctuates that last word, anger lacing each syllable. Your brows quirk at his rather incredible acting abilities.

"Boyfriend?" Preston scoffs, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. "Don't tell me, sweetheart. Don't tell me you're taking another man here? On a Thursday?"

"I don't know," you twirl your hair. "What are you doing here on a Thursday? Don't tell me you've brought another girl here, hm?"

It truly scares you how easy it is to slip back into this version of yourself, the one that would have been content running Preston's errands and doing his dirty work. Thank God you left.

"You know I'd never, sweetheart," he drawls. God, he's laying that sweetheart name on thick. Disgust creeps up your gut like a spider at his tone. "I'm just with my buddies. We play poker here on Thursdays now."

"Poker?" Spencer interjects, "on a Thursday night? At a restaurant called The Westbury Club?"

"Yeah, you got a problem with that, man?" Preston defends, and you know the switch has flipped.

"I just think it's interesting..." Spencer trails off, swirling his wine around in his glass. "Where do you have the money for poker that often?"

"What's it to you? Last I checked, I was talking with your girl," the sarcasm drips off of him, "so I'd back off if I were you." Preston makes himself appear larger, puffing his chest in a way that looks laughable in comparison to Spencer's cool demeanor.

"No, no, you're right..." Spencer trails off, a smile painting his lips. "Just wondering, is all."

You see his gaze focus on something across the restaurant, his brown eyes squinting the way they do when he's found something big. It's not long until he's tapping into his wire, "Rossi, now."

He does his best to stay quiet, but it still pulls a, "What's a Rossi?" from Preston.

Spencer's eyes roll as the team busts into the restaurant, you whip towards the entrance to finally see what Spencer's been looking at. It's tiny, so minuscule that you're shocked Spencer caught it. A tiny bag of a certain powdery white substance dangles in between Rossi's fingers. Emily collects piles of white envelopes shoved under the table, thick wads of cash in each one of them.

"Drugs, really?" Spencer asks, sarcasm lacing his tone as he cuffs Preston with a little more force than necessary. You don't say anything. "We knew we had you on extortion. Maybe even murder. But drugs? I thought you'd be smarter than that."

The venom drips from Spencer's tongue as he walks him out, an iron grip on Preston's bound wrists. You'd never been so happy to see him in handcuffs.

"You can't charge me, you don't have anything, I'll call my lawyer!" Preston protests, all while Spencer talks over him, reading his Miranda Rights with a force you can only describe as incredibly sexy.

Rossi catches your gaze from the doorway of the restaurant, immediately clocking the way you're staring at Spencer. He chuckles, rolling his eyes in faux annoyance.

"Finally," you hear him murmur under his breath as he turns to leave.

You snap out of your Spencer-induced haze when the flash of cameras shine through the windows of the restaurant. You scurry over to the cameras, expertly answering questions as succinctly as possible. You see him from the corner of your eye, though, leaned up against the cop car he undoubtedly shoved your ex into. You can't help but meet his gaze, a coy smile hopefully conveying everything you've thought this whole night.

Spencer can't remember the last time he'd been in a situation so...tense. Every time an unsub had taken him, the time he spent in prison, none of it measures to the nerves pulsing through him as he drives her, and only her, back to their hotel.

"Hey," she calls out softly, a tentative hand reaching his thigh, "you did great today. I don't know how you spotted that bag. I would've completely missed it."

His heart stops at the gesture, her words along with it have the power to knock him out completely. He moves one hand to cover hers, and his brain goes fuzzy at the size difference.

"You're too hard on yourself. You were better than I was. You led the entire mission," it's nearly a whisper as it tumbles from his lips, the moment feeling entirely too intimate.

They pull up to a stop sign, tense silence settling over them. It blankets them in a thick warmth, almost suffocating. Then, on pure adrenaline, Spencer makes a decision he normally never would. He makes a right, instead of a left.

"Spencer?" she inquires, "this isn't the way back to the hotel."

He curses himself for thinking he'd fool her at all, that she wouldn't figure him out immediately.

"It's just a little detour. Do you trust me?"

She eyes him skeptically, and he curses men like Preston who have ever made her feel distrusting. She nods, though, and he feels like he's won the lottery.

They pull up to the parking lot of Herring Cove Beach, a large sign greeting them on their way in. He wastes no time exiting the car, running over to the passenger side to get hers.

"Spencer?" She inquires, taking his hand to step out of the car. "You're taking me back to the dump site?" humor laces her tone, and he shakes his head slightly.

"It's not just the dump site, is it?" Spencer asks, his voice low, his heart thrumming in his ears. This could all be a huge mistake, a huge misreading and he could be humiliated in a few seconds' time. Seeing her stand there, her heels in her hand, her dress hugging her in ways that's sinful, he takes the plunge.

She chuckles, a breathy laugh laced with nerves. "I grew up here," her voice is nostalgic, soft in a way that he can't resist. He laces his fingers with hers, exactly the way he did in the restaurant.

"I thought you'd want to come see it one more time. Not as a dump site," his voice is low, nervous still.

Her lips purse as she looks at him skeptically, though this time humor shines through. "You and Penelope spying on me?"

A laugh can't help but escape, pushing out of his lungs as if he'd have a choice. "Maybe something like that."

"Oh, yeah?" she teases, her own laugh breaking through, and God. He could spend the rest of his life listening to that sound and that sound alone.

"Yeah..." he trails, another silence settling over them.

She pulls his hand that rests in hers, marching them towards the shoreline. She plops down on the sand without second thought, and laughs when he looks at her sideways.

"Old habits die hard, huh?" she teases, and he laughs before relenting. He can buy another suit. The waves accompany this new silence now. She watches the moon as it rises over the water. He watches her.

"Spencer..." she mutters, and his heart picks up in speed. "I was hoping you were okay earlier. You'd been acting distant, off, since we touched down in Mass."

His heart clutches at the fact that she was worried about him, that she even noticed. He debates on what to say to her for a moment. He's made it this far, though. He might as well go for it all the way.

"I was jealous." It's matter of fact, and she whips her head to face him.

"Jealous? Don't tell me you were jealous of Preston, Spencer. He cheated on me with my best friend," she scoffs. His eyes go wide. She mentions it like it's no big deal, like it's not something that has tilted Spencer's earth on its axis.

He shakes his head, a pathetic laugh spilling over his lips. "I guess I had a hard time accepting that you shared so much with someone so...awful. You deserve more than that."

"Yes, I do. Thank you for noticing," she nudges his shoulder with hers, and it's his heart's final straw.

"I think I have feelings for you." It's low, he's not even sure he's said it until she says it back.

"You think, or you know?" She asks softly.

"I know."

She smiles, then. It's sweet, and makes his heart sing.

"I have feelings for you too, Spencer. Ever since we first met." Her confession rocks him. "I think the whole team has waited for us to do this. Rossi caught me staring at you when you were walking Preston out, muttered something like 'finally'."

He chuckles at that, and she buries her face into his bicep. He needs to feel more of her immediately, or he'll combust. It's science.

His hands wrap around her wrist, pulling her into him fully. Her giggles pick up, then, and he can feel the heat radiating off her face.

"Spencer!" she squeals, giggles punctuating each syllable. Her nose grazes his, and he feels the last of his resolve crumble. His hands cup her jaw as his lips slot over hers. The surprised moan against his lips makes his head spin.

She rests her hands on his shoulders, her fingers curling at the base of his neck. He deepens the kiss, opening his mouth to let her take all of him that she wants.

His hands drift to her waist, pulling her in so her plush chest presses into his. It makes him dizzy. He deepens the kiss even more, as if it's possible. The crash of the waves along the shore accompanies them as her body twists into his, fitting like a puzzle piece.

When she comes up for air, it's like his heart has been snatched clean out. Her lips are plump, glossy and swollen, eyes glossed over, a dazed look in her eye.

"Hey, Spencer?" she asks, and it's so flirty that he nearly melts.

"Yeah?" he whispers, nudging his nose along her cheek, down her neck. She shivers and he revels in it, holding her body tighter under his large palms.

"I really like you," she says, burying her face in his neck as if her words don't knock the absolute wind out of him.

Their phones buzz between them, a bucket of cold water over their heated moment.

"Oh, God," she groans, "do you think we've been found out?" Her voice is excited, like they're sneaking around from overbearing parents. He nearly crumbles.

"Seems like it," Spencer notes, his cheeks heating up as he looks at his phone.

Emily: We've been waiting by the plane for 10 minutes. Both your bags are packed. You got a lot of explaining to do ;)

Spencer no doubt flushes the shade of a tomato, but her laugh makes it all worth it. He presses one more quick kiss to her plump lips before helping her out of the sand, and back to a team who will no doubt have a million questions. She’s completely worth it.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #Spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid blurbs #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fic #spencer reid oneshot

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jiyascepter · 1 year ago

Text

Caught You | 18+ Only

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Loki x F!reader

Words: 4012

Warnings/Content: SMUT; Avenger! Loki & Avenger! Y/n, Themes of dub-con, dark-ish Loki??, dom!Loki, pervy!Loki, possessive, jealous loki, use of loki's magic (in a lot of sexual stuff), restraints, bondage, biting, licking, aggressive, pissed loki, praise, slight degradation, there's a tattoo on y/n's thigh (for the plot!), other mcu characters also make an appearance, clit licking, fingering, overstimulation, p in v.

Please lmk if I missed anything! Loki is a bit of red-flaggy in this one, please keep in mind this is only a fanfiction.

Summary: When you make fun of Loki's magic, he "demonstrates" how his magic can be useful. In many, ehm..ways. What did you expect?

A/n: i moved the title in the corner so that i can keep seeing tommys's sexy face in the middle 😮‍💨 im trying to make my fics dirtier but it's not quite coming down in my works, like it's in my mind but it's not easy to express??? im trying & hopefully it'll come soon

The cavernous, dimly-lit warehouse echoed with the sounds of clashing metal and grunts of exertion. The Avengers were locked in combat with a band of mercenaries armed with advanced weaponry.

Tony was in the air, repulsor beams lighting up the darkness, while Natasha and Clint worked in tandem, their movements precise and deadly. Thor’s hammer, Mjölnir, was a blur as it struck down the enemies with thunderous force.

In the midst of the chaos, Loki stood with an air of detached amusement, casting spells with flicks of his wrists. His magic sent mercenaries flying, created illusions to confuse their ranks, and conjured barriers to protect the teammates. But Loki's magic, powerful and unpredictable, was also a bit reckless tonight.

Maybe it was the leather suit you were wearing today.

"Loki, for the love of—watch where you're aiming!" You shouted as you narrowly avoided being hit by a stray spell meant for an enemy.

Your eyes flashed with annoyance as you shot him a glare. "Are you trying to get us all killed?"

Loki smirked, eyeing you up, not taking you seriously. "Perhaps if you were more attentive, you wouldn't find yourself in such precarious positions, darling."

You scowled and ducked under a swipe from a mercenary, retaliating with a swift punch that sent your opponent sprawling.

Ugh, you hated how he always carried that stupid smirk.

"Maybe if your magic was actually useful, we wouldn't be in precarious positions to begin with!"

Loki's eyes narrowed slightly, a spark of irritation flashing through his otherwise calm demeanor. "Is that so? I seem to recall saving you from a similar predicament just last week."

"By causing it in the first place!" You shot back, dodging another mercenary's attack and taking him down with a well-placed kick.

Loki rolls his eyes and runs in the other direction. With a flick of his wrist, he conjured an illusion, making a group of mercenaries see each other as Avengers.

Confused, they turned on one another, giving the team a moment of respite. But the spell was too potent, and soon the illusion spread, affecting even the teammates.

Chaos erupted as friends and foes became indistinguishable.

"What the—" Tony exclaimed while flying over the scene.

"Damn it, Loki!" You screamed, ducking, as Natasha took a swing at you, mistaking you for an enemy.

"Enough!" Thor bellowed, his hammer smashing into the ground to create a shockwave that knocked everyone off their feet and dispelled the illusion.

The mercenaries, now disoriented, were quickly subdued.

The flight back home was quiet. Everyone was either tired, tending to their wounds, or just rethinking what happened back there.

Once you landed, the rest of the Avengers stepped down the Quinjet and walked into the building to their rooms.

"Loki, wait." Steve calls out and walks towards Loki in the lobby.

“About today—”

“Nobody died, Rogers.” Loki replies.

"That is not an achievement," You murmur to yourself loudly on purpose for him to hear while taking a sip from your favourite grey-coloured sipper.

Loki and Steve both glanced at you, with Steve carrying a hint of a smile on his face while Loki scowled and turned back to Steve.

You could tell he was not impressed.

A win for you.

Steve clears his throat, turning serious once more. "Look, what happened today was not good. We cannot work as a team if we don't know half of your tricks."

Loki grins. "Well, that's the fun, isn't it? A surprise for everyone.”

Steve raises his eyebrows. "But it isn’t helping, Lo-"

"Helping? His magic is useless half the time."

Loki shoots an eye at you when you say that, and you could tell the God wasn't pleased.

"He's showing off in front of everyone, like the arrogant ass he is." You go on, while Loki watches you with his grave, sharp eyes.

Why wasn't he replying with his usual snarky comments today?

Steve gives a light chuckle and pats Loki's shoulder as if feeling sorry for him, "Be careful next time, that's all I ask," and walks away through the corridor, leaving you and Loki to yourselves.

While waiting for the elevator, you silently stand in front of the doors, waiting for it to arrive.

Until you feel a hard pressure against your back.

The sensation is unmistakable—a solid, unyielding presence, warm and firm. Loki's chest. His closeness sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his breath and subtle heat radiating through his clothes.

You stiffen, unsure whether to move away or stay still, the elevator's arrival feeling like an eternity away.

You decide to say something to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Ego broken, Loki~?" You say his name in a sing-song voice.

"Do you enjoy testing my patience, mortal?" he says, leaning down to your ear.

"Someone has to keep you in check," you reply, your voice steady despite the proximity.

The elevator reaches your floor, and with a little chime, its doors open. You proceed to take a step forward to enter the elevator when his hand grabs hold of the back side of your neck and pulls you back to him.

"Careful," he almost whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin, "your tongue is going to get you in trouble one day."

You pause for a moment, feeling the tension thicken in the air, before you turn your head out of his hands to look at him. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I hurt the big bad trickster's feelings?" You taunt, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Maybe if your magic wasn't so unreliable, we wouldn't be in these messes. Or do you need Daddy Odin to give you some pointers on how to actually be useful?"

Loki's eyes flare with fury, and in no time he grabs your neck once again and strides into the elevator, pinning your head to the panels. His body pressed against yours with a force that left little room for doubt about his intensity.

His frame, tall and lean yet undeniably strong, exerting a commanding presence as he pins you against the cool metal of the elevator wall. You can feel the heat emanating from his body, a stark contrast to the chill of the metal against your cheek.

He was so close to you, you could smell his sultry, intoxicating smell on him.

"You think my magic is useless, don’t you..." He whispers, his breath ghosting on your skin. "I’ll make sure you regret saying that."

"I don't "think", it's a fact." You try to push him back with your elbow. “Let me go, Loki.” You say it firmly.

"Not yet, vixen." He says so, and the elevator doors shut by themselves. And with one flick of his fingers, the front chain of your tight leather suit yanked open down to the end of your belly.

Did he just–

"I’ll make sure to demonstrate how useful my magic can be." He says and looks down to notice you were not even wearing a bra underneath.

He grins at the sight, licking his lower lip. "Naughty girl." He coos in your ear while his fingers work their way to your belly.

His fingers, though possessing a hint of coldness at first, quickly warmed against your skin as they made contact with your belly. Each touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a fire that danced just beneath the surface.

"Let. Me. Go." You say, trying to stand your ground, but your attempts are futile.

"Told you no, darling." He says while his fingers trailed up to your nipples, sending a shiver down your spine as goosebumps rose in their wake.

It was a sensation that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, yet strangely exhilarated by the raw intensity of his touch.

He slides down your suit from your shoulders, proceeding with a graze of his tongue on your skin.

"Mmm…sweet," he murmurs, sucking on your shoulder, "unlike those words you use."

"FUCK. YOU." You reply with a gruff.

Loki chuckles darkly against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. "Oh, darling, you will," he murmurs, his voice dripping with seductive menace. "But not before I teach you to respect a God."

He pulls down your suit lower, his lips kissing the back of your neck, followed by melty little kisses down your bareback. Despite your discontent, you couldn’t help but feel turned on by him.

As Loki pushes down your suit to your thighs, his eyes catch sight of a small tattoo etched on the inside of your thigh. The ink reads the name of your ex-boyfriend. Loki's eyes darken with a mix of curiosity and possessiveness.

He paused, his brows furrowing as he read the name inked there. "Well, well, well," he murmured, his voice a mix of curiosity and disdain. "So that’s what your little skirt was hinting at the meeting a few days ago..."

He traced the tattoo lightly with his finger, sending a shiver through your body.

So this bastard was always watching you?

You grit your teeth, anger and embarrassment flushing through you. "It’s none of your business, Loki."

He tightens his grip on your neck slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to assert his dominance. "I know."

"But this mark... it irks me. An insignificant mortal claiming a part of you." He pinches your thigh, and you try to jerk away your leg but cannot.

You squirmed against his grip, but he held you firmly, his eyes dark and intense as they bore into yours. "Let it go, Loki," you demanded, trying to maintain your composure.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the tattoo. "Why should I?" he whispered, his voice a dangerous purr. "Why should I let some forgotten lover's mark go unchallenged?"

He gives you a rather harsh bite on your shoulder, trailing his lips to kiss your neck, which makes you whimper, which makes him grin.

He pulls away a bit, and with the flick of his wrists, an invisible force pins your arms above your head, securing you in place against the elevator wall. You struggle briefly, but the bonds hold firm. Loki steps back, his eyes raking over your exposed form with a predatory gaze.

Before you could retort, he bent down, turning his body against the elevator and facing you from below. He kissed the tattoo with deliberate slowness, his lips soft and maddeningly sensual.

The act was both possessive and teasing, with his tongue swirling repeatedly on the same spot that was making you crazy. You gasped, the sensation overwhelming, and a part of you hated how your body responded to his touch.

"Shh, people can still hear us, darling. Even if they cannot enter." He says placing pecks up and down your thigh, evaporating your steady facade away.

"Now, let's see what other secrets you're hiding," he murmurs, his hands sliding down to your hips. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down and exposing you completely.

You saw his eyes almost sparkle at the sight, placing a kiss on your mound, making you flinch against the metal. Where and when did your suit disappear? You didn’t know.

He leans close and starts exploring your already wet clit with his tongue. Holding your waist in his hands, he kept stealing glances up at your aroused form, watching your expressions while you gasped every time his warm tongue darted on your needy pussy.

The god had a talent for his tongue. The silver tongue.

"Are you still with him?" He murmured, pulling away his face from your pussy, making you let out a complaining whine.

He holds up his two fingers to caress your folds. "Answer."

"N-no…" You answer, your voice quivering in pleasure.

"Then why isn’t it off?" He says this, glancing at your tattoo.

"I never…Loki-"

He pushes two fingers in. "You never what?"

You shudder as Loki's fingers push inside you, his question hanging in the air, demanding an answer. Your mind races, caught between the intense pleasure and the need to explain yourself.

"I never... had the chance," you manage to gasp, your voice barely steady. "It didn't mean anything anymore. I just...fuck-forgot about it."

Loki's eyes narrow slightly as he studies your face, his fingers moving slowly inside you, curling and stroking in a way that makes coherent thoughts nearly impossible. He doesn't seem entirely convinced.

"Forgot about it?" he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. "Or perhaps you wanted a reminder of something you couldn't let go?"

"No…" You moan, writhing against the panel with your hands above your head, your fingers aching to dive into his hair.

He starts to pump his fingers in and out of you with a deliberate rhythm, his thumb circling your clit with maddening precision. You squirm, your faint moans echoing the elevator.

"Good," he murmurs, his voice a seductive purr. "Because I don't share, darling. And I don't like to be reminded of what once was."

You moan, your body arching against his touch. His words send a thrill through you, and the possessiveness in his tone both intimidating and exhilarating.

"You know I can just turn you into a pretty mannequin for me so I can do whatever I want with you…but I want to feel you squirm... to mewl... like a little prey." He says watching your face while feeling your pussy start to clench around his fingers.

"Now, let's make sure you never forget who you belong to, hm?" Loki whispers, his lips brushing against your thigh as he speaks. His mouth returns to your clit, his tongue flicking and sucking with a relentless intensity that drives you wild.

"Yeah, that’s right, just keep on making those little sounds for me." He says it with a satisfied smile curling on his lips, and he resumes his ministrations with renewed fervor.

The combination of his fingers inside you and his mouth on your clit sends you spiralling into a mind-shattering orgasm, your body convulsing with pleasure as you cry out his name.

As the waves of ecstasy subside, Loki slowly withdraws his fingers. He stands, his eyes locking onto yours. He releases your binds away and turns you to him, and his thumb caresses your lower lip as if studying it for a second before he holds you against the wall, cupping your cheek, and kisses you almost fiercely.

And gosh, you needed that. You needed that and more.

"Y/n, is that you?"

Both of you freeze to your seats when you hear Thor’s voice outside the elevator.

Loki's eyes narrow in annoyance, and he quickly glances towards the elevator doors. "Shh," he murmurs against your lips, his voice barely a whisper. "We wouldn't want to get caught now, would we?"

He continues exploring your mouth, and the kisses start spreading to your neck, tongue, and teeth, making their wild appearances every once in a while.

Until you couldn’t help it and let out a moan.

"This door is not openi- Y/n??" Thor repeats again. "Wait, let me call Stark.-"

Your heart races when Thor calls out again because of your moan. Loki’s eyes narrow, and he pulls away. "Are you doing this on purpose? Just another one of your games so we can get caught and you can have your fun?"

He gives your pussy a little slap, and you whine a no.

In a swift motion, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. You barely have time to register the shift before the air around you shimmers and the familiar confines of the elevator vanish, replaced by the opulent and dimly lit interior of a room unknown to you.

The room is a stark contrast to the sterile metal of the elevator. Rich tapestries line the walls, and candles flicker, casting a warm, golden glow. A large, ornate bed dominates the space, its dark, luxurious linens inviting in a way that makes your heart race.

Loki wastes no time. He sweeps you off your feet, carrying you to the bed with an urgency that sends a thrill through you. He lays you down gently, his gaze intense as he takes in your still-naked form. His hands trace over your skin, as if committing every inch to memory.

The air is thick with the scent of sandalwood and something uniquely Loki—intoxicating and alluring. "Now, where were we?" He purrs, his fingers tracing a delicate line down your spine, sending shivers through your body.

You can barely catch your breath; the intensity of the moment overwhelming. "Loki, what if Thor—"

"Thor won't find us," Loki interrupts, his voice a low growl. "This is my domain. No one enters without my permission."

"Now," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, "let us continue our little magic demonstration."

The silken sheets cool against your heated skin, and with Loki's hands everywhere—caressing, teasing, exploring every inch of your body—his touch both gentle and demanding, leaving you breathless and craving more.

"So beautiful," his voice dripping with seductive menace as he conjures a binding spell that secures your wrists to the bedposts.

You gasp, your body arching against the restraints, as Loki's mouth finds your breasts, his tongue swirling around your nipples with maddening precision. The sensations are overwhelming, and your mind is lost in a haze of pleasure and need.

Loki's mouth moves with deliberate precision, his tongue tracing intricate patterns over your breasts. Each flick of his tongue sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you arch and writhe against the silken sheets. The restraints on your wrists keep you firmly in place.

"Loki…"

"Mhm," he hums, enjoying your squirms. But he wanted more.

He uses his powers to amplify his touch, making your nerve endings sing with heightened sensitivity. You gasp and moan, the intensity of his magic overwhelming your senses.

You can feel the magic pulsating through you, heightening your awareness of every touch and every kiss. His lips move from your breasts to the sensitive skin just below, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The combination of his mouth and his magic almost too much to bear.

His free hand trails down your body, leaving a path of fire in its wake. As his fingers reach your inner thighs, you feel a new surge of his magic, more potent and concentrated. It wraps around your thighs, making your muscles quiver with anticipation.

Loki conjures small, delicate tendrils of magic that wrap around your nipples, gently tugging and twisting. The sensation is unlike anything you've ever felt before—a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that leaves you gasping for breath.

He moves lower, his mouth leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your belly. The tendrils of magic follow his path, amplifying every sensation, making you feel as if your skin is on fire. You can barely think or breathe; your mind consumed by the overwhelming pleasure.

As he reaches your hips, his fingers part your folds, and you feel a rush of cool air against your wetness. His mouth hovers just above your clit, his breath hot and tantalizing.

"Tell me, darling," Loki whispers, his lips brushing against your most sensitive spot, "how does it feel to be at the mercy of a god?"

Before you can answer, his tongue flicks out, teasing your clit with delicate, precise strokes. His magic enhances every touch, making you moan and writhe against the restraints. You can feel your orgasm building, the pleasure coiling tight in your belly.

"Loki I-" He sees your upcoming orgasm and pulls away quickly, enjoying your needy, complaining moan for him.

"Not so easy, darling."

And with another display of his magic, he completely gets rid of his clothes, his disrobed body turning you on even more, the heat of need between your legs almost unbearable.

He brings his already-hard cock near your lips. "Kiss it." and you do, the light hum of satisfaction he makes making you want to absolutely suck him out rather than just a little kiss.

"My filthy little vixen," he says, eyes blazing with hunger as he positions himself between your legs. His grip tightens on your hips, holding you in place as he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock, the sensation sending shivers of anticipation through you, "get ready for your god."

He lets out a low growl, a dark and seductive sound, before slowly pushing into you, his length stretching and filling you completely. The feeling is exquisite, with every inch of him sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"You feel so perfect," Loki murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Every part of you was made just for me."

He begins to move, slow and deliberate, his thrusts deep and controlled. Each motion designed to draw out the maximum pleasure to make you feel every inch of him. The binding spell keeps your wrists secured to the bedposts, preventing you from reaching out to touch him, to claw at his back as the pleasure intensifies.

Loki's eyes never leave yours, the connection between you palpable and electric. He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with the same intensity as his thrusts. You respond eagerly, your moans muffled against his lips, your body arching to meet his.

His magic continues to amplify every sensation, making your skin hypersensitive, every touch sends sparks of pleasure through you. The tendrils of magic around your nipples tighten and twist, adding to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.

"Loki," you gasp, barely able to form coherent words. "I can't... it's too much..."

He smirks, his eyes dark with lust. "You can take it, darling. You will take it. You will take everything I give you."

His pace quickens, and his thrusts become more urgent and more demanding. The bed creaks beneath you, the sound mingling with your moans and the wet, slick sounds of your bodies moving together. The pleasure builds rapidly, creating a coiling heat in your belly that threatens to consume you entirely.

Loki's hand moves between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing in tight, precise circles. The additional stimulation pushes you closer to the edge, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your impending orgasm.

"Come for me, darling," Loki commands, his voice a low, seductive growl. "Come for your god."

His words are your undoing. With a cry, you shatter, the orgasm ripping through you with an intensity that leaves you breathless and shaking. The pleasure is overwhelming, your vision going white as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

Loki continues to thrust through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure, his own release imminent. His movements become erratic, his grip on your hips tightening as he chases his own climax.

You can feel him throbbing inside you, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he finally lets go, his own orgasm ripping through him.

With a final, powerful thrust, he spills into you, his groan of pleasure vibrating through your body. He collapses on top of you, his weight comforting and grounding as you both catch your breath, the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through you.

For a moment, there's only the sound of your ragged breathing, the scent of sex and sweat heavy in the air. Loki's hand comes up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear of overwhelming pleasure.

"Fuck, you drive me wild." He murmurs breathlessly.

"Did you like that, darling?" Loki murmurs against your skin, his voice a seductive purr. "My magic can do so much more."

You breathlessly chuckle while he traces patterns on your skin. His fingers caress down to your thigh, where he glances at your tattoo.

"We can’t have that." He says in a low voice and grazes his hand over your skin, and the tattoo vanishes. Loki’s touch lingers on your thigh where the tattoo once was, his magic leaving your skin smooth and unmarked.

"And now you’re mine."

┈➤ Taglist in the comments! Lmk if you want to join or just click this 𖹭

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dunmomee · 23 days ago

Text

Unscripted

Summary: You and Satoru are in the middle of a whirlwind press tour leading up to your film’s London premiere and this feature interview? Definitely one of the fun ones.

a/n: I’m writing these one-shots in no particular order! I hope you enjoy them. I’m so excited for this series! Also, Zendaya is my style reference for the reader’s outfits, so picture her vibe when imagining the looks.

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***********************************************************************

Soft, warm lights bathed the stage in a flattering glow. Two tall, dove-gray armchairs angled toward each other atop a low-profile rug, inviting conversation. Between them, a slender round table held a neat stack of question cards and two crystal glasses of water.

Behind it all, the Crossed Lines logo shimmered in flowing gold cursive against a charcoal backdrop, subtly backlit to glow without shouting.

You and Gojo Satoru took your seats, the hush of the crew dissolving as the red light blinked on. It was your turn on People Unscripted—a breezy feature interview on your whirlwind press tour before the London premiere. The set felt more like a private parlor than a stage. Too intimate. Too still.

The two chairs were angled just so, close enough to be cozy on camera, far enough to pretend it was professional. You were already mic’d, smiling politely for the camera crew while Gojo fiddled with the deck of question cards like it was a poker game.

He glanced over at you, all white hair and tailored mischief, his eyes raking over every inch of you. You were wearing a white sleeveless jumpsuit with a plunging V-neckline and daringly high slits on each pant leg. A delicate gold necklace rested at your collarbone, its soft gem catching the light with every subtle move. Your hair cascaded in long waves over your shoulders, effortlessly styled. Lips painted a sharp, blood-red.

Gojo adjusted the collar of his sweater, cerulean eyes lingering, and flashed you a grin before throwing in a playful wink.

You just laughed him off.

“You ready to get grilled, co-star?” he teased.

“You wish,” you replied, crossing one leg over the other—his eyes dropped for half a second. “Don’t go overboard, Satoru.”

The producer’s voice came through the overhead speaker. “Rolling in three, two…”

The camera light blinked red.

“Hi! I’m Y/N L/N—”

“And I’m Gojo Satoru—”

“And we’re here with People Unscripted, answering questions about our upcoming film Crossed Lines and… our characters.” You flashed a practiced smile.

“Let the chaos begin.” Gojo rubbed his hands together.

You drew the first card.

“Who’s the better kisser; your character or you?” You arched a brow and glanced at him. “Whoa. Throws you straight into it.”

Gojo gave the camera a slow, deliberate smirk, one hand draped casually over the back of his chair. “I’ll say this—Karl’s a trained spy. He kisses like he’s got something to prove.”

He paused, his eyes locked on you, voice dropping just enough to stir the air between you.

“But me?” His gaze flicked to your lips before locking onto your eyes again. “I take my time.”

Your fingers curled slightly on your lap, the warmth creeping up your neck no matter how composed you tried to look.

“Bold answer from someone with a reputation for being all fun and games,” you murmured, aiming for playful and mostly succeeding.

He only grinned wider. Then he reclined in his seat.

He drew the next card.

“What was your least favorite scene to film?”

You adjusted yourself in your seat. “The scene where we argue in the alley behind that casino. I threw a prop knife at you. Missed your face by this much.”

You held your fingers apart.

“You didn’t miss.”

“Oh yes, it was intentional.”

You smirked and picked up another card.

“Biggest on-set blooper?”

Gojo burst out laughing. “That time your coat got caught in the door and you tried to walk away dramatically, but it yanked you back like a cartoon?”

“That wasn’t my blooper,” you said, pointing. “That was your fault. You slammed the door too fast!”

“My character was upset!”

“You were upset because you dropped your protein bar and had low blood sugar.” You said eyeing him.

He threw his hands up. “The bar was important!”

The two of you were laughing so hard now, the camera crew had to wait for the chaos to die down.

The producer offscreen chimed in, “We heard you guys got into a lot of trouble on set.”

“That was Satoru!” you said immediately, pointing at him—only to find him already pointing at you.

You turned to him, incredulous. “Are you serious?”

He shrugged innocently, but the smug look on his face said otherwise.

Without missing a beat, you aimed a sharp kick under the table with the pointed toe of your heel. He barely flinched, just shifted, and suddenly, your legs were trapped between his.

He gave you a slow, triumphant smile, his knee brushing against yours under the table.

You blinked, trying not to react, as heat crept up your neck. He leaned in a little, lowering his voice.

“You can totally see it wasn’t me,” he said, as if the moment before hadn’t happened.

“Oh please,” you scoffed, willing your voice to stay even. “You set off the smoke alarm twice because you thought it would make the rooftop scene more dramatic.”

“And it did!” he said proudly. “Until we got evacuated.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I had to film in four-inch heels in a fire drill zone.”

Gojo tilted his head, letting his knee nudge yours again. “Hey, you looked amazing doing it. The real crime was that I wasn’t in the shot.”

He plucked the next card from the stack.

“What’s something people would be surprised to learn about you?” He turned toward you, eyes narrowing slightly. “Let’s hear it.”

You exhaled dramatically. “I still sleep with the same blanket I’ve had since I was eight.”

He blinked, then grinned. “That’s kind of adorable. Is it ugly?”

“It’s hideous. But it smells like home.”

Something in his expression shifted briefly—just enough to soften.

“Okay, your turn,” You drew another card, twirling it between your fingers before reading aloud.

“What do you notice first when you meet someone?” You turned to him, expectant.

Gojo didn't even pretend to think. “Their eyes,” he said, tone smooth. “You can lie with your mouth, but your eyes always give you away.”

Your brows lifted slightly. “That was... unexpectedly deep.”

“I have layers,” he said, tapping the side of his temple. “Try to keep up.”

You hummed. “What do my eyes say, then?”

You leaned in just enough to test him—and sure enough, his gaze dipped, a flicker too quick to be innocent, before it returned to your face.

He held your gaze for a moment too long. The cameras might as well have disappeared.

“They say you don’t trust easy,” he said softly. “But you like when someone earns it.”

Your breath caught, just a little. He turned to draw a new card, giving you a moment to recover.

“What’s your comfort movie?” he asked, looking curious now. “Come on, tell the truth.”

“Spirited Away,” you said without hesitation. “Something about it makes me feel safe.”

He smiled, genuinely this time. “Classic. You give Studio Ghibli energy. Pretty and a little bit tragic.”

You laughed. “Wow. That was beautiful and insulting.”

“Just saying,” he said with a wink. “It fits.”

You pulled another card and glanced at it.

“If you weren’t acting, what would you be doing?” you read aloud. “Okay, hit me.”

Gojo tilted his head. “Honestly? I’d be teaching. Kids. History, maybe.”

You blinked. “You, around children? They’d learn nothing.”

“I’d be great,” he insisted, grinning. “They’d worship me.”

“Until you forgot parent-teacher conferences or set off a fire alarm again,” you added.

He snorted, then nodded toward the stack. “Your turn.”

You pulled the next card and read it quietly before speaking.

“When do you feel most like yourself?”

That one settled between you differently.

You gave a small smile. “When I’m not being watched. No cameras. No makeup. Just... existing.”

Gojo studied you for a beat, more serious now.

“Same,” he said. “Except maybe when I’m dancing. It’s the only time I forget people are watching.”

That made you smile, real and soft. “You’re not bad at it.”

“Not bad?” he echoed, wounded. “I swept you off your feet. Literally.”

You rolled your eyes. “You nearly dropped me.”

“But you laughed,” he said, nudging your leg again under the table. “Hard. I think about that sound a lot.”

Your breath caught. The room felt smaller. Warmer.

You reached for the next card just to have something to do with your hands.

The producer’s voice cut in again, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth a little too much.

“Alright, last one before we wrap, and don’t dodge it,” they said, teasingly. “Was there ever a moment during filming when the line between your characters and you two got blurry?”

You felt your breath hitch before covering it with a polite laugh. “Define blurry.”

Gojo didn’t miss a beat. “That’s a yes.”

You shot him a look, half daring, half warning.

He turned to the camera, all practiced innocence. “Let’s just say… some scenes didn’t need acting.”

You kicked his leg lightly under the table again, but he didn’t trap yours this time. He just grinned like he was holding back more than he was saying.

“Okay,” you said quickly, shaking your head, “and that’s our cue to wrap.”

A voice called from offstage, “And cut!”

The producer laughed. “Fair enough. We’ll leave the rest to the fans’ imaginations.”

Gojo stood then, offering you his hand with theatrical flair.

“Until the London premiere,” he said, voice low but rich with promise. “Try not to miss me too much.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you.

“Not even a little,” you lied.

He leaned in, barely a whisper’s distance. “Liar.”

And just like that, he turned and walked off.

You stood there, staring into space, breathing in his cologne, once suffocating, now intoxicating, until your assistant finally came to get you.

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#gojo satoru #alternate universe #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #actor #actor au #actor x reader #movie premiere #hollywood #on set

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dustmusings · 2 months ago

Text

Comfort / Rex x Reader

summary: Rex comforts you. that's literally it.

a/n: just had the worst, most traumatising, upsetting and generally absurd 24hrs of my life and then sat down and wrote this because at a certain point what else is there to do but write about a clone comforting you lmao. shout out to rex for being the clone I always turn to in times such as this, he’s a real one.

warnings: emotional hurt/comfort !!! angsty but also fluffy ig, reader wears a lot of jewellery incl. earrings (yeah it’s ridiculously self-indulgent shhh)

word count: 948 (just a drabble yk, some nonsense)

Rex can’t always be there when you need him. You know that, and you always have. It’s okay, really. It’s an occupational hazard, and you knew what you were getting yourself into by committing to a soldier. No, it’s not really fair that he should be away from you for so long, but life rarely is fair. It’s cruel at the best of times, and today has been especially cruel to you.

And you need him more than ever.

You’re curled up in bed, holding your knees to your chest, and you know you’ve never felt so awful in your whole life. It doesn’t really matter what happened, because at the end of the day you know you don’t deserve this. Whatever you have done wrong throughout your life does not equate to the amount of mental torment you feel now. It isn’t your fault that the galaxy is cruel, you could never have crafted such wicked designs if you tried, and in this moment you are thankful that you have grown past the self-hatred that you would have felt in years prior.

You know there’s nothing you can do to change this feeling now, so you just hold your knees close as if they would somehow equate to the comfort of another person.

You don’t know how long you’ve been like this, but it’s definitely hours at this point. You have zoned out completely, lost in a daze out of self-preservation, so you don’t hear as the front door of your flat opens, nor when your name is called in a soft, worried voice. You don’t even hear the footsteps coming down the hallway, and your bedroom door is so quiet as it zips open that you wouldn’t hear it if you were in a fit state. The first indication that someone has entered your space is a whisper.

“Cyare?”

You don’t have any time to be worried about whether it might be an intruder, because the voice this so unmistakable that all of the tension immediately drains from your body. You know Rex realises something is very wrong. All of the lights are out, and ordinarily you would bound into his arms like a puppy that had waited all day for its owner to return. This is a very different picture, a much more dull, lifeless scene, and you wish that you could be more joyous upon his unexpected return, but you do not have the capacity.

He sits down on the edge of the bed, gently stroking his knuckles along your arm, and your breath syncs to the movement. He must have left his armour by the door as usual, because you do not feel the scrape of his gauntlet plate against your skin, just the usual softness that accompanies everything he does.

“What do you need from me, cyare?” he speaks quietly, and if you hadn’t already spent your tears it would set you off. He was always so considerate, and in a weak moment like this, it only makes you feel even weaker.

“Nothing” you reply timidly.

He knows you well, so he knows what you mean.

He starts by peeling the duvet away, knowing you run hot, and after stewing in your own emotions for however long you shot past warm a while ago. He then lifts your head gently, placing an extra pillow underneath just as you like. Just when you think he’s probably finished adjusting, he begins to strip you of the jewellery that adorns your body, that you had not cared to remove when you placed yourself here.

Your earrings are removed first, and he takes the utmost care with each item as it unhooks. You can hear the soft clink as they are placed on your bedside table, and something about the tone and pitch of it is soothing. He unclips your necklaces, untangling as he goes, always making sure never to snag your skin. Then he sits closer, and reaches over to take your wrists and remove the stacks of bracelets that have been digging into you. He soothes over the marked skin with his thumb, and you melt at the softness of his touch.

Looking up to him as he begins to remove your rings, you can’t help but smile, even if it is weak, barely there. He is really here, looking after you with every bit of love as he always does, when you know he has most likely had harrowing experiences of his own that he’s reluctant to speak aloud. You know he likes to feel needed, to give without pretence, that it’s the way his love manifests most often. Allowing him to care for you now is all you can do to welcome him home and make him feel safe again.

Once he has made sure you are comfortable, he lays down beside you, and you immediately turn to bury your face in his chest. He doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t need to. He knows you’ll tell him your woes when you’re ready, and he’s always happy to go at your pace. He’s always been reassuring in that way, since the very first time you met. He strokes your arm again, and you let out a deep sigh.

“Tell me something” you murmur, seeking further distraction, “something happy”

Rex thinks for a moment, but the answer is obvious; “I’m home, indefinitely”

You lips lift to a genuine smile, because there is nothing that brings you more joy. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you hold him tightly, weaving your limbs with his.

“I’m so glad you’re back” you mutter.

“Me too, cyare” he replies, pressing a kiss to your head “me too”

taglist: @darthnihila @cdblake1565 @heidnspeak @burningnerdchild @orangez3st @clones-cyare @stellarbit @liopleurodean @asgre

#trex writings #rex #rex x reader #captain rex x reader #clone x reader #captain rex #clone captain rex #the clone wars #clones #large sigh of relief as I send this out into the void

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eatmycodbetty · 6 months ago

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{You again?} ~ 2

part two. . . one

pairing: anthony lockwood x gn!reader

word count: 2.7k

summary: Your first time helping the trio goes well, but some resistance at your attempted aid spurs a personal challenge.

DISCLAIMER: I headcanoned mobile phones. Not smartphones by any means- more so a pager that can display text. still in the same vintage ish vibes it just makes it easier for what i want to achieve in the first few chapters. think of those little blocky personal phones we see in the show but if it had the worst little radio display or something for little messages. lmk if it’s too distracting and ill write it out lolol

notes: dialogue is hard. :pp ALSO this is the end of the INTRODUCTION phase of the story- there is soooooo much more to come.

Two . . .

11:47. Middle of London

Running down the street, you see the park sign. You recall what George had told you earlier that day, and you enter from the east of the entrance, a hidden path that kind of slopes from use over the years.

At first, there’s nothing. It is dark, obviously no ghost-lamps around, and terraced with trees. This is practically a jungle at night, no wonder they lost a source here. You could lose your own two feet if you weren’t so careful.

As your panic finds a fake lull, you hear a yelp from across the park, over an old cobbled half-wall. You sprint to the area, seeing a streak of orange and hearing George’s calls for mercy.

When you leap up over the wall, rapier in hand, a scared George is running at you. He sees you and trips, grabbing you on the way. You two stumble but you get up swiftly in time for the onslaught that was behind him. Two smaller ghosts coming out of a thick fog followed him, but you make quick work with a few jabs into their figures, them quickly dissipating with horrible screams.

You turn and help the poor boy up from behind you, his fingers still grabbing your jacket. “Oh my BLOODY god y/n thank you thank you THANK YOU. You came just in time” He stutters, out of breath, and takes a second to gulp down some air and stand back up. “We were so close…but that damned cluster almost ruined it for us. We ran up this hill with the…wait.”

He stops to search and pat his orange hoodie quickly, coming to a disheartening realization as he looks back up at you. “We lost it again. I might just leave it if I am being honest- it’s too fucking much.”

As he rambles you take a breath, shushing him with a hurried question. “Where are the others, G. We need to make sure you are all safe before worrying about this stupid trinket.”

He quickly realizes that he left the other two, looking to the left of your current spot. He points as you two begin to run, rapiers in hands. You toss him a salt bomb and with a nervous nod he takes it and readies as you two approach the scene.

You almost stumble over a bush to see the same girl from earlier- Lucy, was it?- and the slender boy you can only assume is Lockwood. They are caught in the middle of a whirlwind of activity, fighting well- but not quick enough- as spirits reach out at their blind spots.

You take a jump into the action, yelling for them to duck as you fight from Lucy’s side first. George throws the salt bomb whilst you dissipate the area around Lucy. She sits back up and you acknowledge each other with a quick smile and nod, fending off the near liquid-like fog on Lockwood.

As you do this, the salt bomb goes off right above you, nice shot George, and the whirlwind you’re in starts to falter. You three run out, shouting at George to run as well.

Running up the back of the group, you jump back through the brush and into the area where you found George earlier. As you make a b-line towards the rest of the group, a thick ghost-fog starts to fizzle in front of you, but you throw another salt bomb hastily and dive back over the cobbled half-wall.

As you steady yourself, a shimmer catches your eye. Without thinking, you dislodge the item from the stones and keep running, narrowly missing the foggy spirits that linger above you.

The four of you keep running until you’re out of the park, back through the small passageway and into the street, where you find a resting area under some ghost-lamps. Perfect. Lucy and George immediately sit on a bench, laying out and catching their breath.

You catch up to the group, deciding to lean on the lamp pole behind them to catch your breath as well. The tall and slender boy stands in front of the two sitting agents, rubbing his hands which eventually land on his hips. You see his jacket open a little at this, is he wearing a suit? In the field?? Yeesh, you think. The rumors around this guy might just be right. For now he just loiters and thinks, gaze wandering between the group and you.

George speaks up first, eyes locked on the pavement guiltily, “hey so..I might have dropped the eyeglass when I had to run.” He looks back up at the two others, “BUT we can come back in the day- I never want to come back here at night ever again. Even if the ghosts can help us find it, they can all go to the shitter.”

You think as he’s rambling, and absent mindedly take out the object you picked up out of your pocket. You twist it around in your fingers, focusing when you realize the smooth texture- it’s a brass eyeglass. Before he can keep going you speak up, “Uh hey G…is this what you lost?”

He looks at you for a second and leans over, confused…until his eyes widen and he snatches the trinket from your palm. “Y/N you are a saint! How did you even find this in between fighting?!” He is obviously relieved, holding the eyeglass with his forefingers in the light for the group to see.

You smile and lean your back on the pole, “I just saw it lodged in that old wall when we were getting away, I didn’t even think about it really.” And you didn’t, you just thought it was a big coin or something.

“Well it doesn’t matter if you thought about it or not-you saved our arses.” He gives you a friendly jab on the arm and hands the trinket to Lucy, who stuck it in a small silver sack to prevent a longer night.

He jests as he’s handing it to Lucy, “Seeeee..safe and sound. Can we leave the house alone now when something goes missing…”

She quips back, “Well it seems y/n was the one to actually get it, but next time I will be sure to leave your precious books on the lounge table alone.” She smiles sarcastically and puts the silver pouch in her bag as he huffs.

“I guess that’s fine..I might as well just bring them back up to my room if they’re only going to be destroyed in the lounge…you are all animals.”

As he complains, Lucy looks back to you, ignoring him, “Hi y/n! You were surprisingly fast, thanks for the help back there- George was right about you.”

You smile at her and cross your arms with a reply. “You didn’t do half bad, we should train together sometime. We need to stay sharp…literally.” She smiles this time, a silent agreement between you two.

Then, a cough.

Lucy’s gaze is disrupted from you and you all shift to the tall and silent boy standing with his hands in his pockets. You honestly forgot he existed for a moment, what is up with him? George huffs quietly, “oh yeah..”

The boy shifts on his feet before turning to you, standing at full attention and extending a hand. “Hi there. I’m Anthony Lockwood, and this is my agency Lockwood & Co. Although, I can boldly assume you know these two already.” He squints at the two on the bench, of which Lucy shrugs and the two meekly feign ignorance.

You quietly snort at their remarks towards the boy, but then turn to him in the same manner- you feign your own confidence. He is, after all, the boss of another agency, and you feel the need to show your resilience in your lonesome.

As you take his hand and shake it once firmly, you reply, “Hello, Mr. Lockwood. I am Y/n L/n. I run my own ship…and I know George. Nice to finally meet, I’ve heard wonders.” You make a little explosion expression with your hands as you say this.

He has an inquisitive look to that last bit, underlying charm in his face, but he just nods and looks at you, analyzing your gear. “Nice to meet you too, Mx. L/n.” He smiles thinly, “I’ve seen your work in the back of the papers, and, well, word gets around when you challenge the higher agencies…dicks.” You sniffle to restrain a laugh at that. He hesitates as you start to rifle through your bag, continuing only as you hand him a business card. “You’re George’s old mate, right? We are on the same team it seems, you know if you ever-”

George cuts him off, “Y/n is one of my friends from Fitts, or rather one of my only old friends outside of you lot. You can trust them, we’d probably be another sob story if it weren’t for their saving the day anyways.” He looks to you and you wink in an obviously heroic manner, you both chuckle. Lockwood smiles a bit more genuinely at this, stopping only at Lucy interrupting.

“I don’t know them that well if it makes you feel better, Lockwood.” Lucy explains as she stands up now, between the bench and Lockwood. “But from what I’ve seen, we could learn a thing or two.” She looks to you again, “…or maybe we need the help- you did a great job playing the hero after all.”

You rub the back of your neck, but before you can reply to her sudden advertising, Lockwood intercepts: “I don’t think we need help. Having connections is nice but we work just fine- I mean we would have been fine back there with or without them- no offense.”

You roll your eyes from the obviously beaten boy over to George and Lucy, who have a kind of disdain on their faces at this remark. Lucy scoffs at Lockwood. “I think you just can’t accept anything. If you get out of your neurotic thick skull for one minute to see that we were in the trenches back there then maybe you’d be a bit more accepting.”

He is, surprisingly, not much wavering by this. Must happen often. You speak up on your behalf, as it seems Lockwood doesn’t have much to say to the girl. “Well, I don’t want to join you lot or anything, if that makes it better. I work well on my own, I don’t want to do the agency thing again. I just like helping, especially for an old friend and for a couple pounds.”

Lucy and George hear you and immediately make a “see?” face at Lockwood, who eventually butts in. “Well…only if we really need to. Agent L/n is an exceptional fighter, thank you for your help tonight.”

You nod at this with a small smile whilst the other two celebrate a silent victory, yet he continues. “Just as long as I’m let in on it, okay? No going behind my back- we’re a team. Got it?” They nod and quietly fist bump- he notices but ignores them once more, a kind of compassion wavering behind his eyes. What is even going on with them?

You pipe up again, “Well...I am glad that is handled. I will be making my leave, you all have a good night. George has my contact if there’s any night you want me to be on call or whatever, just let me know.” You want to go to bed and leave the awkward circumstance, but someone persists as you start to pick yourself up and head off.

“Y/n wait- before you go.” A hand on your shoulder turns you, just as you had tried to leave. Lucy is there, holding about 30 quid, taking your hand and placing it in your palm for you. You like her confidence, it's a wonder how she puts up with the other two. “Remember, we’re still paying you.”

You take a second to look at the money, before gripping it and patting her shoulder, “thank you Lucy.” You then peek over her shoulder at George, who is now getting off the bench, and Lockwood, who is somewhat still lost in thought. Weirdo.

You call out to them as well, “Thanks everyone, keep in touch. Goodnight!” You start to bound off as everyone is exchanging goodbyes and you split from the party, them going off in another direction back to their home.

1:23am. Closer to home

You breathe a full breath for the first time since leaving your flat earlier in the night. You're almost home, but you stopped in a busier part of the city to take a look at the stars. Barely visible. You sigh and keep going, eventually landing back at your flat.

Taking off your dirty clothes and settling your supplies in their usual spot, you go to take a well deserved shower. After, you swiftly lie back on your bed, letting your legs dangle in your fuzzy slippers.

You stare at your walls, your pictures and bundles of dried lavender to help protect (and refresh) the dingy flat. All these memories of when things went wrong, but more importantly, when things went right. Memories that morphed you into the person you are today.

Tonight was different, but it was kind of...fun. You were already used to being deemed a "hero" in your endeavors for as long as you can remember, but this felt different. You wanted to show them that you could be great- but why?

You already knew you were great, you didn't have to prove it to anyone. It had been clear for the many years working your way through countless different people and places that you excelled independently.

You decide to turn in for the night, to actually rest. It's almost 2 am, so it's easy to spiral into these kinds of mindless thought bubbles. You turn off the lamps and tuck into your sheets, with only the subtle glow of the moon dimly lighting the one room flat you occupy.

Then, another glow joins it. You look over, your phone is lit up. Who could even be texting you this late? You turn the phone over, seeing a new message from an unknown number. You pick up the phone and open the message.

Unknown Sender: Hello Mx. L/n. George gave me your number. Could you be on call the night of this coming Wednesday? The other two were persistent about it on the walk home. You'll be paid 30 quid if you're called, and 15 if we end up not needing you. Unknown Sender: Oh, and Luce wants to meet up sometime. Something about your rapiers. She might text you about it, but she is already asleep. Just wanted to let you know. Unknown Sender: Goodnight. - LW

You sit there in a kind of standstill at what had just occurred. Why did he sign off like it's a letter? Everything about this boy screams strange, but he's not your boss so you aren't going to pay it too much mind. It's nice that Lucy remembered, you smile at the thought of training with someone else. You reply quickly, just in case you forget in the morning.

You: Hey! I told G that I have nothing this week, so it's all good. Thank you for letting me know! You: Also...go to bed. It's almost 2:30

Here is where you see him start to type, then stop. You get a message about a full minute later.

A.Lockwood: You too. Looking forward to working again. Have a good night, y/n.

You give a tired chuckle and set your phone on your chest. He stopped the formalities? He must be tired. Whatever. You take your phone once more to turn it off, no more interruptions tonight.

As you go in and out of consciousness, you can only think of a few things. You're happy that George is doing well for himself, you enjoy the presence of another strong individual in Lucy, and most notably you're wondering what you even got yourself into.

Whatever the week brings, you have a feeling that it will be just fine. And maybe even...fun.

~fin~

thanks for reading pt 2 guys :)))) this is the end of the introduction part, we're gonna get into the juicy bits later. I'll be gone for two-ish days but I'll be back in no time- don't forget about me!!

#anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #lockwood x y/n #lockwood x you #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co reader insert #reader insert #lockwood and co x you #lockwood and co fic #love writes #xreader #george karim #lucy carlyle #lockwood and co #lockwood netflix #anthony lockwood

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frenchkisstheabyss · 1 year ago

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⛧𝙽𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙱𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝙺𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝙸𝙸𝙸⛧

⛧ Pairing: poly!slasher!minsung x chubby!fem!reader

⛧ Genre: slasher au/horror/fluff/angst

⛧ Summary: It's been two weeks since that fateful night your crushes revealed their killer hobby to you. You promise yourself you'll never look back but your ties to each other can't be severed so easily. Especially not when your own gruesome urges begin to creep in and an unexpected visitor gives you the perfect opportunity to set them free. Do you have it in you to resist or are you destined to return to them?

⛧ Word Count: 2.1k-ish

⛧ Warnings: horror elements, masturbation (f w/ vibrator), blood, violence (none between you 3 though. you psychos love each other too much), someone breaks into reader's house w/ short fight scene after, erotic homicidal urges, dead bodies, strong language, you become a killer bby girl, suggestive convos, everyone gets kinda sentimental, & that's all.

⛧ A/N: I'm such a spooky girl at my core (it's where my writing roots are) so it's been fun writing this dark comedy/romance and I love you forever if you're joining this quite odd ride with me.

Also thank youuu @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 and @lxsunshine for asking to be tagged! I've never really had a tag list but if anyone else wants to be, totally let me know! 🖤

💀 <<< Rewind to Tape 1 <<< 💀

Somewhere along the way your wires got crossed. You could blame it on Han and Minho for what they did but that’d be unfair wouldn’t it? What they uncovered in you—the same darkness lurking within themselves—has alway been here and it refuses to be buried again. But you try.

It’s been a long 15 minutes soaking in this bath with one leg draped over the side of the tub and your waterproof vibrator buzzing away beneath the lilac bubbles. Music plays in your headphones, ambient tunes meant to melt the tension from your body. Squeezing your eyes shut you try—you really try—to chase off intrusive visions of two sickeningly handsome psychopaths. You don’t want to remember what you saw that night but the picture’s so clear in your head that it might as well be playing out in front of you all over again.

For the few seconds that you manage to shake the thought, your vibrator feels useless. It hums against your walls with all the enjoyment of a leg that’s fallen asleep. But when the image snaps back into frame—them standing there in nearly nothing, blood dripping down their bodies—it feels heavenly. The pleasure travels through you in pulses, spreading further out the longer you indulge in your memories.

This isn’t right. You have to stop. You know you do. So do it. You can’t. Lie to yourself all you want but this is what you need. Water splashes onto the floor as your leg slips into the tub, moans dancing freely from your lips. Your heart thumps like a techno beat, battling the light music in your headphones for dominance.

The pressure in your lower belly overtakes you, dangerously close to erupting. Crashing into your high, your eyes fall open and you’re met with a face you haven’t seen in months. You open your mouth to scream but a hand is already around your throat, dragging you out of the bathtub.

“Where’s my brother?” the man shouts, the dim lighting in the bathroom only partially concealing a face twisted with rage.

You claw at his hands, nails slicing through his skin like razors. He grunts, gripping his bloody hand, and tosses you across the floor. A framed picture crashes to the floor as you hit the wall with a thud, your ears ringing at the impact. Turning to lunge at you again, he trips on the soaking wet bath mat and falls at your feet. You latch onto the toilet, struggling to pull yourself up when you’re still covered in bubbles.

“I know you know something! So tell me!” he demands, catching you by the ankle. He uses all of his strength to drag you down but you’re too slippery to hold onto.

“I don’t know where your fucking brother is!” you scream, grabbing onto the toilet tank. Tucking your fingers under the lip of the heavy lid, you pull at it as hard as you can.

“You’re lying! Either tell me what happened or I’ll make you, you fucking bi—”

Ding! You swing around and crack him in the head with the porcelain lid. He stares up, not particularly at you, his gaze empty. Everything goes dark for him, blood gushing down his head, and he’s down. High off of adrenaline, you toss on your robe and run for the phone at the end of the hall. Hands shaking, tears running down your cheeks, you pick it up to call the cops. But something stops you.

Instinct takes over and your fingers are already dialing the new number. You wipe the tears from your cheeks and find yourself fixated on the bloody skin under your nails. The line rings so many times that you almost think no one will answer.

“My baby!” Han cheers on the other end of the call, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. “I missed you.”

There’s some shuffling followed by Minho’s voice, “We missed you!”

You flick the skin from under your nails, smiling to yourself. “Hi boys,” you sniffle, knowing there’s no turning back, “I missed you too. You wouldn’t happen to be, uh, busy tonight would you?”

Minho feels like an old man who can’t get his dick up. It might actually be easier if he were. At least then there’d be a pill to fix what he’s going through. Ever since you walked out that door both he and Han have had the worst dry spell they’ve ever experienced. The only dry spell they’ve ever experienced. The last body they touched was your ex’s. They threw it, every last piece of it, somewhere no one would ever find him and left it at that. It just wasn’t fun anymore.

Detectives call what they’re going through a “cooling off” period. It’s the time between murders when a serial killer returns to their normal lives, biding their time until they can kill again. Poking his spoon around in a bowl of soggy cereal, a pouty Minho doubts that’ll happen any time soon. “I hate this!” he whines, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

Han pushes his legs away, flopping down beside him on the couch, “Get your feet off my coffee table.”

“Meh meh meh meh meh meh meh” Minho mocks, deflating when it hits him that he can hardly enjoy picking on Han anymore.

Han scooches closer to Minho, offering him a shoulder to lay his head on. Minho takes it, feeling Han’s sadness without having to see the heartbroken look on his face. No matter how much he teases him, Han’s his best friend. They’re brothers. They understand each other like no one else can and he knows how badly Han hoped you would too.

“You wanna go to the medical history museum tomorrow?” Minho asks, calling upon all of his cuteness to make Han happy.

Han doesn’t answer but exhales a “Hmm…” that signals he might be interested.

Minho bats his eyelashes, laying it on heavy, “Come on, they have the world’s largest collection of human skulls. You know you love good head. I mean, no, wait, that didn’t…shit.” Han hangs his head, laughing so hard it makes him wheeze. “Why would you say that? Just why?”

Minho sits up, elbowing him in the side, “Fuck you. I was trying to cheer you up.”

Han throws his arms around Minho, hugging him tightly, “Stop sulking! I’ll go! Who needs a girl when you have the world’s largest collection of human skulls, ya know?”

Minho narrows his eyes, resisting the urge to fight against the hug just this once. Deep down inside, really deep, he loves it. “Exactly” he huffs, “Women are a distraction anyway. We’re better off without her.”

Ring! Ring! Ring! The sound of the phone sucks all of the air from the room and their stomachs collectively sink. In record time they’re halfway across the room, pushing each other out of the way to check the caller ID. Your name flashes on it and Han snatches it up just as Minho’s fingers graze the buttons.

Han answers the phone, almost too excited to contain himself, “My baby!” Minho folds his arms, quietly judging Han for being such a dork about this.

“I missed you” Han says, lower this time, his back turned to Minho.

What happened to not needing you? What happened to being better off without you? Oh, fuck it.

Minho steals the phone, blushing so hard his ears turn red, “We missed you.”

A minimum of six traffic laws were broken when the boys realized something had happened to you. Of course you couldn’t tell them the incriminating details over the phone. Luckily, hearing you cry was more than enough for them to stop everything and speed across the city to check on you. They really only cared about seeing you again but the presence of a possibly dead body doesn’t hurt.

In your second stroke of luck tonight, if you can call it that, you’re positive no one knows he’s here. There’s nothing on him to track him by. He came only with the tools he used to break in and a taser he no doubt intended to use on you. And there won’t be any fuss from your downstairs neighbor. She hasn’t been able to hear since 1982. All that’s left is the matter of what to do with him.

Gathered in your bathroom, the three of you stand over the body carefully watching for signs of life. Han and Minho glance at each other behind your back. They’re both wondering the same thing but don’t know how to ask. They play a quick game of rock, paper, scissors. Han’s rock and he hates that for himself. Minho’s paper and he’s never been happier. Minho mouths, “Loser” and Han flips him off.

“Baby” Han says sweetly, holding your hand, “Were you and this guy, like…”

You stare at him, happy to be holding his hand but genuinely confused, “Were we?” Reading the room, you pick up on what they mean. “No, no, no! Never! This…” you say, kicking the motionless body, “Is my ex’s shithead brother. He broke in cause he wants to know where his brother is.”

Minho shrugs, pulling the belt to your bathrobe out, “Let’s make sure they’re reunited then shall we?” He wraps the belt around each hand a few times until there’s tension in the fabric and just enough room to fit a human neck. Minho sits down on the floor, positioning the man’s head in his lap. He’s ready to tighten the belt around his neck but there’s something bugging him. “Do you guys hear that?”

You all listen closely, picking up on a nearly inaudible buzzing. Han follows the sound over to the bathtub where the bubbles have long dissolved and spots the source immediately. He rolls his sleeves up and reaches into the water, pulling out your vibrator.

“Oh my god. Give it here!” you shriek, taking it and switching it off. You toss it in the cabinet under the sink, unable to handle how much they’re obviously loving this. “So, did you come at least?” Minho asks, relaxing his hold on the belt.

“I’m not answering that.”

Han’s studied you enough to tell when you’re lying. “She did! Did you think about us when you did it?”

Minho giggles, far too pleased with himself, “She did.”

“Go to hell!” you snap, getting on your knees beside Minho. You take the belt from him, winding it around your hands the same way that he did. “Show me.”

Your boldness throws them off—this is far from what they were expecting—but they don’t hesitate to guide you. Han joins you on the other side, showing you how to hold the belt properly. Minho checks the pulse before propping the body up for you. It’s weak but it’s there. It feels natural to be doing this together, like the space between them was always meant to be one you’d inhabit.

“Thanks for coming, you guys” you say, seconds from strangling a man, “Most guys won’t even buy me flowers and you risked the electric chair for me. That’s way sweet”

“You’re worth risking the electric chair for” Han coos, kissing you on the cheek.

Minho nods in agreement, kissing you on the other cheek, “Cutie.”

Your cheeks are so warm and you can’t stop yourself from smiling. You’re basically glowing at the love being poured into you. It’s perfect enough that you regret running away from it to begin with but that won’t happen this time.

“Aah!” the man croaks, shooting back into consciousness. He tries to sit up but you use the belt to hold him down, squeezing it as hard as you can around his neck. You lock your legs around him, something they didn’t need to instruct you to do, and hang on until he goes limp. They look at you like they’re terrified of you, afraid to make any sudden movements in case you’re in the mood to come for them too.

Han takes him by the wrist, checking his pulse, “He’s…dead. Holy shit. You killed a guy.”

“I killed a guy?”

“You did! Good girl” Minho applauds, breaking out into a happy dance.

You and Han join him, dancing to totally different songs in your head but celebrating together nonetheless. Han gets up from the floor, dusting himself off, “Now you’ve just gotta chop him up. Got any food in your fridge? I’m hungry.” He wanders off to the kitchen, leaving you and Minho alone in the bathroom.

Minho gets up too, kissing you on the top of the head. “I could use a midnight snack too” he yawns following Han’s lead, “Be careful with the radial artery, love. It bleeds like a bitch.”

Pushing the body off of you, you hop up to chase after them. “Wait! You’re ditching me for snacks? I don’t have the tools for this. And what the fuck is a radial artery?”

#stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids angst #stray kids au #minsung x reader #han jisung x reader #lee know x reader #han jisung angst #lee know angst #lee know x you #han jisung x you #chubby reader #plus size reader

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obsessedfics · 1 year ago

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Soft Rain: Gojo Satoru x Reader (SMUT! Mature/Explicit) Part 2

I want to first say I usually try to find a photo that fits the aesthetic of the story but this one was way too good to walk away from. Everyone enjoys this gem <3. Also, this fic because it's too damn long is split up into two parts. Part 1 is already up and is linked here. Highly recommend reading it first before this one so you don't get confused.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Rating:Mature/Explicit (Sexual scenes)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Summary: You are in a coffee shop one rainy day when a sad beautiful stranger enters. Slowly, you open up to each other in the warm confinement of the cafe. Little did you know that you would fall in love with this man, and he with you.

I wrote this from the perspective of seeing Satoru with his barriers down. No masks, no facades, just him when he's alone with his haunting thoughts. I wanted to give him a more human perspective and touch on some of the things that plague his mind. I know I have been MIA for quite some time, if you were someone who was waiting for this I am sorry! Life has been a rollercoaster recently but I am finally back to being in a place of stability. This is certainly a longer fic, so I hope you all enjoy it. As always feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments below!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Word Count: 25k+

October: Halloween, Shibuya

I know it’s Halloween, but does there have to be so many people outside?!

You began pushing your way through the crowds of people, ignoring the press of anxiety in your chest. All you needed to do was make it to the train station so you could go home, but it seemed as you got closer to the Shibuya Hikarie Building the throng of bodies got tighter.

Ugh, maybe I should just find a hotel for the night.

With a huff of air passing your lips, you make to turn around, but you hear something strange through your headphones.

Doubting yourself, you pull out one bud.

“ Bring Satoru Gojo. ”

Satoru… Gojo?

People chanted these words over and over again, stretching down to the train tracks.

What the fuck is going on?

Swallowing your anxiety, you begin pushing your way inside the building. The clusters of bodies became thicker. Their skin brushed yours as you continued to the center. You ignored the foreign touch, pushing your intrusive thoughts to the back of your mind.

Is it who I think it is? Or am I just being delusional?

Once inside, you couldn’t believe your eyes.

There he was, hands in his pockets, hovering right in the middle of the building, staring straight down to the train tracks.

“I can fly!”

Your eyes widened. Running to the edge while elbowing through sweaty bodies. You needed to be closer; to confirm what you are seeing.

Is it him? Am I hallucinating right now?

As soon as you’re at the edge, you call out his name, but the crowd drowns out your voice. You shout as loud as you can, but you might as well be whispering. The crowd's anxious chatter washes out your voice, rendering your desperate shouts useless.

Then he descends to the basement, a murderous aura following in his wake.

An article from 2006 pops into your head.

Satoru Gojo, head of the Gojo Clan, pinnacle of the Jujutsu world.

Without a second thought, you break out in a sprint to the stairs. People stare at you in confusion, but you ignore them, shoving your way through their bodies. His words play in your mind, puzzle pieces falling into place.

“I am the strongest sorcerer of this generation.” “…my role is incredibly isolating.”

Something is wrong.

You run, taking two steps at a time, hand ghosting over the railing for support. You knew you were useless, and if he was in any trouble you wouldn’t be able to do anything. But you also couldn’t do nothing . Not when he was right in front of you, not when you spent weeks thinking about him.

He lingered on your heart like a tattoo – permanent and painfully hard to get rid of. If you loved him, you didn’t know. But you do know your soul yearns to be with him.

Please be safe. I don’t give a shit how strong you are, don’t be stupid.

Bursting through the doors of the basement floor, you’re met with a sea of bodies. You couldn’t see anything other than people dressed in Halloween costumes for miles.

Cursing inwardly, you push past them, elbows out to your sides. Their bodies brush your skin, and you ignore your itching flesh. The only thing on your mind was getting to him, was seeing him.

Sweat coated you from head to toe, you could hear a commotion up ahead, but you were still too far away.

Your heart raced against your chest so hard, you were afraid it was going to burst. Faint screams filled your ears, but you ignored them. It was like you were possessed, the burn in your legs didn’t matter, the thin air in your lungs didn’t bother you, you just wanted him.

People started pushing their way into the tracks as the screams became clearer and clearer. Then suddenly, they stopped.

Dead silence rang out.

Huh?

Bodies stop moving in an instant, but you don’t. You see Satoru move at a blinding speed. Blood splatters all around you, coating your skin in its warm, sticky substance. You don’t even have time to process anything. The world seems to be fast-forwarded, and you can’t comprehend the sight before you.

Then the area clears.

He stops, breath heavy with blood on his cheek as he takes in the carnage along with a small box in front of him.

“Satoru–”

“Gate open,”

The cube box opens, revealing its fleshy body with an eye that stares right at Satoru. He makes to move away but a man with long black hair and a stitched scar across his head steps into view, calling out warmly to him.

You watch as Satoru freezes, disbelief in his wide blue eyes.

He asks the theatrically dressed man who he is, anger and confusion dancing in his tone.

The moment the answer leaves the black-haired male's mouth, all air evaporates. The eye sticks to Satoru’s body, rendering him helpless.

Suguru Geto?

Satoru’s words flash in your mind.

“I haven’t talked to anyone about Suguru since it happened…” “No, but you could see it that way. He… Was like the other half of me. Someone I could trust. I knew with him, I could let go and be myself. I could breathe…” “He’s dead. It’s been a year,”

There’s no way. This is fucked. I need to do something, maybe a distraction–

Satoru’s eyes flash to you, only meeting yours for a second, but he makes it count by mouthing:

RUN.

You stagger back a step, foot catching on the rail as Satoru starts shouting at the other male – his dead best friend, asking who he is.

Turning around, you move your leadened legs, each step feeling as if you were pulling a freight train.

“My six eyes tell me… That you’re Suguru Geto. But my soul knows otherwise! Hurry up and answer!! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

The anger and pain in his voice was so guttural, that it rattled your soul.

What the fuck is going on?!

You cry silently, forcing your body to run away, even though everything in you told you to turn around. You knew you’d die if you did, so you kept moving through the tears.

Dead deformed bodies were littered all around you with blood staining the tracks red. You had to force your eyes to the sky, afraid you’d vomit.

He’s only subdued, sealed. Not dead. Not dead.

Despite yourself, you return your eyes to the floor to search the dead bodies' faces, fearful that one of them will be his.

You were panting when you reached the stairs, but you continued pressing on, only repeating one thing to yourself;

Not dead.

—

Shibuya was pandemonium.

People, who you assumed were curse users, are fighting everywhere. You couldn’t see what exactly they were fighting, but you could feel it. The wrongness.

Your mind was racing, you didn’t know what to do. Anxiety and bile crawled up your throat, as your body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Your legs were numb and your heart was beating erratically.

I need to get out of here.

Eyes scanning your surroundings, you move, aiming for downtown, away from the central fighting point. But when the edge becomes clearer, you see that people are frantically pressing against an invisible wall.

A barrier of some sort–

“NANAMIIIII!”

This name is being shouted from the top of a tall building seemingly in the middle of the sector.

Whoever is yelling has some lungs on them… I can’t get distracted, I have to move.

Panic began bubbling up in your chest you ran as fast as you could, ducking into a small department store, immediately pulling down the metal guard gate and locking it.

You pressed your back to the glass doors, head tilted to the ceiling, breaths heavy and uneven.

Am I going to die here?

You look down at your body.

Blood covered you, staining your khakis and shirt. It clung to your skin and matted your hair. The feeling is disgustingly sticky and the smell of iron assaults your senses, nearly making you gag.

Moving away from the doors, you explore the department store while your body shakes. You needed to move, otherwise countless strangers' dead faces would flash in your mind, making your only thought about their mixed blood covering you.

It seemed as if you were the only person in the building, so you located the seat behind the front desk and sat down.

So many people died, and Satoru… He’s in a box.

You felt so incredibly numb.

You came to Shibuya to buy a few things from your favorite thrift store, but then this happened. Nothing made sense and you couldn’t wrap your head around why so many people passed out and you didn’t.

Leaning back in your chair, you loosed a shuddering breath.

“What the fuck.”

Then the world shook.

—

Megumi was on duty for the evacuation team after the Shibuya Incident. Gojo was sentenced to death and so was Principal Yaga, along with the reinstatement of Yuji’s execution.

This is troublesome.

He entered a department store on the edge of town, fully expecting no one to be present due to having to break the locked gate.

“Hello, is anyone here?” He calls out, voice tired and raw from the night prior. His eyes disinterestedly scan the aisles, until something moves.

A woman, covered in dried blood from head to toe, steps out behind an aisle, hammer poised to attack him. Immediately he puts up his hands, summoning his cursed technique for protection.

“I am not here to hurt you, just here to help you out of the disaster area,” Megumi spoke slowly, but the woman only tightened her hands around the handle of the weapon.

“The name Satoru Gojo, what does it mean to you?” Her voice, soft and calm, asks him. There was no edge to it, despite the murderous intent of her body language.

“He’s my teacher.”

What is wrong with this lady? Is she asking because she was forced to ask for him last night? But all that blood… There’s no way she was at the tracks, she wouldn’t be here if she were.

The woman nodded once, then set down the hammer, approaching him with caution.

“I am… I know him, in a way.”

Oh no, not another one.

“Last night, I followed him down to the basement. I am a normal person, so if he was fighting curses, I don’t know. But I saw him get put in this ancient box covered with eyes. The person who did it is Suguru Geto, but… I think someone is inhabiting his body. That’s all I know, I hope it helps.”

The woman spoke clearly without any fear, but Megumi only became more confused.

“There’s no way you would be here though. We’re still removing the unconscious bodies of civilians from the station. Why were you not affected?”

She simply shrugged her shoulders.

“I don’t know, don’t ask me. The rest of Japan, is it safe?”

The way she spoke caught him off guard. So matter-of-fact and clear, but her body shook. Clearly, she was disturbed but trying not to show it.

She’s not a sorcerer, but she knows about Gojo’s significance. Were they close? Did he tell her everything?

Megumi tried to remember if his teacher mentioned any non-sorcerer woman he was interested in, but nothing came to mind.

“For now, but the situation is unstable. There’s no telling what’s going to happen with that guy gone. We’re going to do everything we can to save him, but I am not sure if it’s possible.” He spoke honestly and the woman nodded, grabbing a piece of paper and writing something down on it.

“This is my number. I’ll do my independent research. In a week, call me and we’ll check bases.”

With that, she gave him a warm smile and left.

Who is she?

November:19 Days After the Incident

You were sitting on your couch, petting Noir anxiously when you got the call.

Did it work?

Sliding the green answer button, you shakily pressed the device to your ear.

“Miss L/N? This is Yuji Itadori. He’s free.”

Thank god.

“Thank you.”

The weight on your shoulders lifted and the anxiousness died.

Not dead.

“I’ll let him know you helped us.”

“Don’t worry about it, he’s out. That’s all that matters. Be safe.”

Hanging up the phone, you press your nose into Noir’s fur. Her soft warmth seeped into your chest as her purs tickled your skin, relaxing you.

You cry softly, hugging her body close to yours. Knowing that this changed nothing, he still had so many painful troubles. But he is free, he is alive , and that’s all that matters to you.

Regardless of what your place in his world is.

—

“You said a civilian helped you guys expedite my release?”

Is she safe? Was I distracting enough for them not to notice her presence?

“Yes. Fushiguro found her and she relayed what she saw on the tracks during your fight.” Yuji explained brightly, even though his friend was now Sukuna’s vessel.

There’s no way anyone saw what happened. No one except…

He shot out of his seat, surprising Yuji.

“What’s her name?”

“Huh? Oh, it’s Miss L/N? She said she knows you.”

Satoru scrunched his brows.

She never told me her last name.

“Her first name, what is it?”

Yuji looked at him as if he lost it but he didn’t care.

“Y/n, I think?”

He was already moving.

“Eh? Where are you going?!”

“I’ll be back!”

—

Rain fell heavily from the gray sky, but not a drop touched him.

She’s dead. You killed her, just like you did to Suguru. Your strength is a curse – not a gift. You’re cursed to be alone.

I am not my past. It does not define me.

Running as fast as he could, he ignored the thoughts invading his mind, pushing them away with her shared mantra. Images of her body, bloodied and disfigured threatened his vision, but he blinked it away; refusing to let his fear control him.

Soon he reached the familiar home that is tucked away from the noise of the city – a sanctuary. He hesitated, the familiar feeling of dread washing over him, making his legs leadened.

Confirm her safety then leave.

Taking a deep breath in, he forced himself to move, mentally putting in the effort to place one foot in front of the other, until he reached the door.

Satoru raised a shaky hand and knocked, but there was no answer.

Fear crawled up his throat, making it hard to breathe.

Please.

Swallowing his dry saliva, he twisted the door handle, surprised to find it unlocked.

He closed his eyes and held his breath. If she wasn’t here, he would search all of Japan until he found her.

He had until December…

Stepping inside the house, the familiar scent of her flooded his senses, making his legs feel hollow.

Be here, be safe .

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

There she was as if nothing happened.

She had fallen asleep on the couch, the soft glow of golden lights kissing her skin as Noir curled against her body. They looked peaceful enough to make him sigh in relief.

However, when he stepped closer, he saw the tear streaks on her cheeks.

That peaceful image shattered.

Satoru moved closer, not trusting his eyes to tell him the truth.

Noir woke first, big blue eyes recognizing him as she moved out of her owner's arms, careful to not wake her. The feline came up to him, nudging his shaking legs as if telling him to go to her.

Why are you crying?

Holding his breath, he approached her sleeping figure. Anxiety swirled in his chest as he tried to make sense of his feelings.

Should I turn around now? You’d be happier without me, right?

Noir nudged him again, pulling him from his thoughts.

Biting his inner cheek, he crouched down so he was now eye level with her body. For a moment, he allowed himself to take in the sight in front of him.

Soft even breaths kissed his cheeks and he watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. It deafened his thoughts, replacing them with overwhelming relief.

She’s alive. This isn’t a dream.

“Y/n,” he called and she stirred.

Satoru watched as she blinked away her sleep, eyes adjusting to her surroundings, confusion on her face until finally she looked his way.

Her lovely eyes met his, soft and kind – the eyes that made him feel seen .

“Satoru?” she breathed, taking his face in her hands, eyes searching his as if confirming he was real.

You’re alive. They seemed to whisper, relief swimming in her irises.

He nodded, wrapping his hands around her wrists, and leaning into her warmth. His blood sang from the contact, tension ebbing out of his body.

Her presence alone was enough to calm his soul.

“You followed me, even though you knew it was dangerous.”

He wasn’t sure if was breathing. His eyes scanned every inch of her body, checking for injury, any sign of pain, thankfully finding nothing. But it didn’t quell the anxiety in his chest. The uneasiness still pressed at his throat, stealing his breath, making it hard for him to think let alone speak.

His only worry when he was in the damned box was that she was alive. That she wasn’t split apart into a thousand unrecognizable pieces. Ash consumed by Sukuna's fire, or buried under the rubble, or worse…

The woman smiled sadly as if she could read his every thought. Sitting up so she could fully face him, she gently rubbed the pads of her thumbs along his cheeks – an attempt to soothe him. He let himself fall to his knees, strength leaving his body. Her hair softly fell in a curtain around them as lightly calloused fingers played with the tips of his ears anxiously.

Running his thumbs along the soft skin of her wrists, he took in her features. The serene allure was still there, but it was now mixed with something else – and it was far more beautiful. It’s something that existed only when she looked at him.

“How could I not when you were all I could think about?” her answer finally came, cutting through the silence.

She traced his face in wonder and he shuddered under her touch.

“You could’ve died,” he whispered, fingers digging into the flesh of her wrists.

He’s seen people he’s cared about die. He killed his only best friend with his bare hands. However, it was different with her. All those people knew that they could die with every mission. But this woman, who had eyes that whispered soft serenity, and a smile that made his heart melt, if she died – he didn’t know if he could come back from it.

“I know.” her words, a broken croak, pulled at his deep-rooted fear.

He saw his reflection in her eyes. He looked like a desperate man praying to his God; wonder, awe, and disbelief tracing his features.

“I wouldn’t have been able to protect you.”

Satoru hated those words. Admitting that he was helpless, noticing her presence too late to save her from the sight of countless dead bodies. He let himself get consumed by his emotions, by the thrill of a good fight, to the point it rendered him useless.

I’m useless. She could’ve died, and it would’ve been all my fault. It would have happened all over aga–

With fingers sinking into his skin, she forced him to meet her glass eyes.

“But you did, Satoru. I got away. I am alive because of you.”

What?

“While you were powerless, you saved me.”

His eyes widened as her tears flowed down her cheeks onto his. Wet rain kissing his flesh, just like when they met.

“I… Saved you? I don’t understand, I only told you to run.”

She shook her head, taking his hand and placing it over her beating heart. Her warmth, raw and real beneath his fingertips, chased away his fear. With each beat of the muscle grounding him to reality, to her.

Alive, breathing, real.

“I was frozen. If you hadn’t told me to run, I would’ve rushed to your side out of desperation. You saved me.”

Her fingers tangled into his hair. The pads of her fingertips lovingly pressed into his scalp, easing his anxiety.

“You. Saved. Me.”

“When it mattered the most, I was unable to save those who I deeply cared for.”

I saved her?

The truth of her words clanged in his chest, stitching an old wound on his heart, stealing his breath away.

Blinking, he met her eyes fully.

Run away. His mind whispered.

Let go of your fear. His heart screamed.

And like a man possessed, he grabbed her face, closing the gap between their bodies.

Desperately, he pressed his lips to hers. Salty tears coated his tongue and her hands fisted into his hair. The soft, warm press of her lips against his drove him mad, making him grab her body, pulling her closer to him. She fell to his lap, legs lightly wrapping around his waist as he deepened the kiss. He allowed his fingers to tangle in the strands of her silken hair, tongue pushing past her lips, drowning in everything that is her .

Soft rose and sandalwood flooded his nose, the taste of bitter-sweet coffee caressed his mouth, muffled moans teased his ears, as her warmth, tranquil and serene, eased his body. Her tears continued to coat their flesh, and he was sure he was crying, too.

For the first time in years, his heart felt light. At this moment, in her arms, he is just Satoru Gojo, nothing else.

It was then, it hit him.

Pulling away from her, he breathed heavily. Saliva coated her swollen lips as she stared into him with eyes hazy and half-lidded. Soft, uneven breaths heated his skin as he ran his thumbs along the flesh of her cheeks.

“I love you,” his voice came out as a quivering whisper. Because he knew this changed nothing between them.

Foreign tears fell from his eyes, pooling at his chin. Y/n only smiled softly, thumbs lovingly wiping away his tears as he did the same to hers.

“How long do we have?”

Sweet lips kissed away his pain, cracking his heart.

“The end of December,”

He traced her features, warm rain coating his skin as he began committing every detail of her to memory.

A small whimper left her lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, still pressing soothing kisses to his heated cheeks.

Allowing that last iron barrier around his heart to crumble, he buried his face into her neck, arms enclosing her torso, hugging her like a child. He cried into her, clinging onto her small body desperately as years of bottled-up emotions began washing over him.

After Suguru, he never let anyone in, convinced that his strength would always push people away. That he would always be envied, seen as the strongest, never as himself. He drew a line without even knowing it. There was him, and there was everyone else. The touch of others had become so foreign to him, that he forgot what it was like to be embraced – to be loved without expectations.

Here he was, in the arms of a woman who saw the ugliness of his world, the truth of his power, and still looked at him with the same amount of kindness that she did the first day they met. She didn’t falter or become enamored with him. Instead, she just saw him and accepted it without hesitation.

She disregarded her well-being and did everything in her power to help him. The woman, who couldn’t stand the touch of others, pushed her way through hundreds of people for a chance to save him. It wasn’t to gain anything from him, it was purely to ensure he was alive, so her restless soul could be calmed. She didn’t broadcast her efforts, instead, she cried, silently and alone, relieved by the sole fact he was breathing.

That’s all she wanted from him; she wanted him to live .

“Thank you,” he croaked, words incoherent and muffled against her soft flesh.

One hand rubbed his back, as her other stroked his hair. She pressed light kisses to his temple, whispering comforting safety. He wasn’t breathing, his breaths came out in heaves as his chest felt like it was caving in. He became putty in her hands, molding his body to her, needing all barriers between them to cease to exist.

Overwhelming complex emotions continued rushing through him; relief, regret, jubilance, despondence, hope, fear, love…

He allowed these emotions to spill out of him, knowing that he was safe. He knew that with her, it was okay to be human.

To be normal .

—

Satoru’s body, for all its power, trembles beneath your fingertips. He’s on his knees, silently crying into your arms as you soothe his mind.

“It’s okay.”

Soft whispers against his skin as your lips pepper his temple.

Your tears, though feeling like an endless well, slowly stop as his scent comforts you. Fresh summer rain, bright and soothing, coaxes your soul; calming your heart.

I love you.

His broken confession swirled in your mind, making your heart sing in both joy and despair. You wanted to return his feelings, but they got stuck in your throat, refusing to spill from your lips.

Taking his face in your hands, you met his beautiful eyes. Like the clearest sapphires, they peered at you, almost sparkling as his tears coated his long eyelashes.

Ever-so-gently, you wipe away his pain. He smiled sadly at you, turning his cheek to kiss your palm.

“I need you to listen to me,” you whisper and he nods, hands finding your waist, rubbing soft circles into the fabric of your shirt.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself breathe, focusing solely on the rhythmic motion of his fingers and the feeling of his blush-kissed cheeks in your palms.

Taking a deep breath in, you open your eyes, finding your resolve.

“I am not delusional enough to think that I could ever live comfortably in your world. I am also not clueless. I know whatever is going on, you play an important enough role in it that they tried to take you out of the fight.”

His eyes searched yours as you tried to formulate a sentence under his raw, naked gaze.

“But?”

It’s really unfair how beautiful you are.

Inhaling sharply you continue.

“But, I would also be stupid to let you go. I don’t care if it’s selfish, and whatever time I am granted to be with you, so be it…”

Pausing, you place a hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat – reminding yourself that he is alive. That this is real.

You’re alive. I won’t let you walk away a second time.

“It’s worth it, you’re worth it. And you can try to hide behind the strong nonchalant exterior, but I see right through it. I see you, Satoru. I accept you, invisible scars and all. Let’s heal our hearts together.”

Satoru smiled. A real smile. One that is unpracticed, and it is just for you.

“I could get hurt, you know that don’t you?” some confidence returned to his wavering voice as his hands slowly traveled up your waist, distracting you from his words.

“Of course. But if I can handle watching you get put into a fleshy eyeball box by the source of your trauma, I can handle you getting hurt.”

Scoffing lightly, you run your fingers through his hair, pushing the strands back from his face, fully taking in his lovely features.

“What if I lose my ability to walk?” he asks sweetly, nuzzling his nose against yours as his hands travel to your bare arms. They ghost over your skin, causing goosebumps to follow in his wake.

“Apparently, you can fly. I suppose if you’re too lazy I can push you around in a wheelchair.”

You run your hands along the length of his chest to his shoulders, feeling the muscle beneath the fitted black t-shirt.

“Hmm, and what if my handsome face gets ruined?” the man mused, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You were wearing a shirt, but the contact made you jump. You felt him chuckle against you as his hands found your back, fingers dancing up your spine.

“Well, I recall you telling me that you got stabbed square in that pretty face of yours. As it turns out, you’re still very handsome. So while I think the likelihood of someone harming you to the point you are forever maimed is low, I will still love you regardless.”

Running your hands down the length of his arms, you watched as your words settled over him. Then realization sparkled in his eyes as he searched your face for answers, almost as if he didn’t believe the words he just heard.

“Sorry, could you repeat that last part for me? I was a bit distracted.”

Familiar playfulness kissed his tone as his hands cupped your neck, forcing you to hold his stare.

“Which part? The one where I said I think someone scarring you is not very likely?” batting your eyelashes innocently, you smile.

“No no, the good part. Where you said you’re in love with me.”

One hand came to caress your cheek. Long fingers tangled themselves into the strands of your hair, tickling your scalp as your pores drank in his warmth.

“Hm, did I say that? I don’t think that’s what I said.” making a show of biting your bottom lip, you looked elsewhere, pretending to think.

Satoru’s thumb tugged your bottom lip from your teeth, causing you to quickly snap your eyes to his. His lips are pursed into a soft pout as he looks at you expectantly.

“Just once, let me hear you say it.” his words are a soft plea as his fingers dug further into your skin.

Not fair.

Smiling, you bring your knees to the carpet, raising your body so you can take his face in your hands. You feel him shudder under your touch as his eyes never leave yours, desperation consuming his features.

“I love you, Satoru Gojo.”

With those words, the last dark wisp of fear that clutched your heart disappeared in his light.

His lips met yours, hard and fast, all desperation pressing into your body. Your surprised gasp gets swallowed by him as his tongue reclaimed your mouth, filling you with the taste of him; sweet with the undertone of green tea.

His tongue danced with yours, swirling and teasing, relaxing you further into the intoxicating taunt of his muscle. Warm, calloused hands pressed into your cheeks, angling your head so he could further capture your lips. His kiss is passionate and smooth, making your stomach flutter with butterflies as anticipation travels down your spine.

Satoru pulls your tongue deeper into his mouth, sucking on the flesh. You gasp lightly, taking his upper lip between your teeth, slowly running them down the plump skin. He lets out a heavy sigh, and you take the opportunity to return his gift, sucking diligently on his swollen muscle.

Feeling him smile into the kiss, he runs his hands down your arms, to your waist, making you shiver. Fire slowly starts to coat your veins, turning the kiss hungrier – there was a need that wasn’t there previously.

The tips of his fingers dipped under the hem of your shirt, brushing against the bare skin of your back. The light touch made you whimper, body tingling where he made contact with your flesh.

Losing yourself in him, you take his bottom lip between your teeth, biting playfully as you run your hands over his muscled chest. The feeling of him, perfectly soft and firm, beneath your fingers felt heavenly. Satoru let a satisfied groan escape his lips, which you hungrily swallowed, kissing him harder.

Desire replaced innocence as you sank your hips, pleased to find his hardened length brushing your growing need. Satoru sharply bit your lower lip, a shaky breath escaping him as you let your full weight settle on him, enjoying the slightest bit of release it gave you.

Pulling away from the lull of his lips, you meet his heated stare. You both were breathing heavily and Satoru looked too good.

His eyes, though normally bright and alive with brilliant blue, were nearly black due to his dilated pupils. They gazed at you, hazy and half-lidded as his eyelashes fluttered softly against his deeply flushed cheeks. His lips are red and swollen, glistening with your mixed saliva.

The sight alone made your core throb, sending a delicious chill throughout your body.

Satoru removed his hand from your waist to grip your face, squeezing lightly as his thumb traced your lower lip. The way he was looking at you made your knees weak. No man had ever looked at you this way. Not only was it blatant desire, but there was a predatory feel to it, with the undertone of unwavering need .

“If you keep kissing me like that, I won’t be able to stop,” he warned, voice low and gravelly. The words traveled straight to the apex of your thighs as he pressed his thumb harder against your swollen lip.

“Who said I want you to stop?”

Holding his stare, you take that thumb between your lips, pressing your teeth down on the pad, swirling your tongue on the bit of flesh. Satoru inhales sharply as the hand holding your waist tightens – a clear attempt to control himself.

You see your reflection in his eyes, the same primal desire looks back at you.

“Are you sure?” though he asks, his hand is already moving to the hem of your shirt, waiting for you to confirm what he already knows.

“You getting cold feet?” you tease, dipping your hand between your bodies, ghosting your fingers over his abdomen.

You were itching to touch him, to taste him, but you were also going to have fun.

He smirks, slipping his fingers under your shirt, and swirling a gentle finger around your navel. The feeling makes your muscles jerk as fire trails where he touches you. You refuse to let any of that show, only returning his smirk, dragging a nail over his muscled stomach, and taking his tiny little black shirt with you.

“With you,” he pauses, voice a hushed whisper while he splays his palm flat on your stomach, fingertips just barely pressing under the lining of your bra.

“I would never. Besides ,” dragging out the last word dangerously slow, he pushes his length up into you, placing the hand that held your face on the back of your thigh, making you moan. The quick relief jolts through you, but disappears quickly, leaving you wanting more.

Bringing his lips so close to your ear that his hot breath tickles your skin, he whispers,

“ You’re the one who’s trembling. ”

Cocky bastard.

Smiling, you slowly run your lips over the expanse of his neck, lightly licking it with the very tip of your tongue. You feel him shudder beneath you as he breathes heavily in your ear. Licking the shell of his ear, you take the lobe between your teeth as you wrap your hand around the hem of his shirt.

“Hm, I must be cold. Why don’t you warm me up ?”

Giving your ear an appreciative nip, Satoru sighs satisfactorily. The deep sound traveled south, making you place your lips to his neck to hide your noise.

“ Gladly .”

He began pressing slow, hot, wet kisses to the supple flesh of your neck. He trailed his way down to your collarbone as his hands, re-finding the hem of your shirt, tugged at the fabric playfully. The tips of his soft hair tickled your cheek, heightening your sensitivity to his touch.

“You know,” his words are a soft murmur against your skin, but you catch them, humming in response as you run your fingers over the dips of his well-sculpted back.

“I read that the fastest way to warm the body up is when two people are naked. Why don’t we test it out, hm?”

Pressing a kiss between the juncture of his neck and shoulder, you smile into his skin.

“I could learn a survival tactic,”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you press another kiss to his neck.

“Or two,”

Licking your way to his ear, you whisper.

“ Or three. ”

At your words, Satoru swiftly captures your lips as his hands go to grip the backs of your thighs. Before you knew it he was on his feet, kissing you feverishly while making his way to your room. He shuts the door with one foot, making you laugh against his lips.

Your body comes in contact with your mattress, but you hardly register it as Satoru grinds his erection into you, greedily swallowing the moan he stole from your throat. Your hands find the hem of his shirt, and you tug as your signal. Satoru groans into you, but pulls back at your command, removing his hungry lips to allow you to expose him.

“This is too tiny, I think I should remove it, don’t you?”

Satoru held your smile, spreading his arms wide as you came up to your knees, pulling the thin fabric off his body, revealing the masterpiece beneath.

Sinewy muscle covered the entire length of his torso. His skin, pale and kissed a soft pink, covered various dips and ripples that you wanted to rake your nails down. You drank him in, from the power of his biceps to the dip of his defined adonis belt, mouth growing dry as you thought about what lurks beneath his concealing white pants.

Selfishly, you ran your hands along his body. Starting from his chest you worked your way down to his navel, relishing in the warm feeling of his soft, smooth skin. Satoru tilted his head back, sighing as you continued to marvel at his beauty, tracing every outline of his hard work, memorizing each detail of him as he trembled beneath your touch.

“You really are like a painting, you know,” you murmur in awe and wonder.

It baffled you that you could even remotely hold this man’s interest, let alone be the one on the receiving end of his love. The thought made your heart squeeze, encouraging you to place a kiss to his bare chest, right above his pounding heart.

His hand ran down the length of your hair, as his other came to cup your face. He lovingly stared into your eyes, all the desire of earlier there, but they now gazed at you softly.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.”

The sincerity of his words makes you smile like an idiot. You bury your face in his chest, listening to the sound of his low laugh. Lovely butterflies tickle your stomach as you lace your hands around his neck.

Slowly, he makes you meet his eyes. You’re both grinning like children, but he had a devilish hint to his.

“Why hide that smile from me?” pouting, he brings his face close to yours, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Laughing lightly while leaning into his sweet gesture, you nuzzle your nose into his soft hair.

“Because you make me happy.” the answer is honest and you press a kiss on his head.

He hums into you as his hands find your shirt, playfully pulling it up to your neck, but not over your head. He blocks the fabric from leaving your skin as he trails feather-light kisses along your jaw.

“Do I? Why’s that?”

His words are soft against your skin, tickling you, making it hard to think.

“I–”

Pulling back from his lips, you meet his eyes.

“I used to think that people who fell in love quickly were idiots blinded by rose-colored glasses.” biting your lip, you consider if you should continue. Satoru catches your hesitation and lightly rubs your lower back, silently encouraging you.

Let go of your fear.

“But now I know, there is never a ‘right time’ to fall in love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single moment. You make me happy because you could’ve had anyone else in this world, and you chose me. The average girl who you met in a coffee shop on a rainy day. You make me feel seen Satoru. I don’t have to pretend with you.”

Satoru smiles, bright and alive. His hands come up to your cheeks, cupping them gently as he holds your gaze.

“Before you, I was convinced that I would live my life alone. That I would never find someone who would ever make me feel whole again. But… You are my sunlight, which I stand in, warmed and seen.”

With your heart feeling like it’s going to burst out of your chest, you press your lips to his.

“You see me so poetically,” those words, which he had once said to you, leave your lips in a soft murmur.

His laugh tickles your lips as he lightly shakes his head, thumbs rubbing your heated cheeks. Satoru deepens the kiss, tongue sweeping past your barriers, sweetly dancing with your own. You melt into him, leaving every worry behind you.

Slowly, he guides your body to the mattress. You feel his warm stomach press against yours as he settles himself between your clothed hips. He doesn’t do anything except kiss you.

It’s a slow, passionate kiss. One full of love and appreciation, conveying emotions that words fail to capture. Your whole body felt alive, attuned with every breath, moving with each rise and fall of his chest, reacting flawlessly to the press of his lips. Your blood sang, electrified by his touch, eager to desperately drink him in.

Satoru’s hands move from your face to the crumpled fabric of your shirt, removing his lips from yours momentarily to rid your neck of the cloth. The music of the kiss changes – now singing a more sensuous tune.

You feel his thick member throb against your thigh as his hands run down the lengths of your arms, fingers enclosing your wrists. He moves his lips from yours to your cheek, kissing his way to your sensitive ear. Then he licks behind the shell, making you audibly gasp as he brings your hands over your head, holding them down with one hand as his other trails the side of your waist.

Shivering beneath his explorative touch, you clench and unclench your hands, trying to ground yourself to reality. With each brush of his fingers, your muscles flinch, pure excitement and anticipation coursing through your touch-starved veins.

“You’re so responsive~” he coos hotly into your ear. You shift under him, hoping to find relief in the friction, but he removes his lower body from yours. The movement makes you pout, but it opens the space for his hand to ghost over your bare stomach.

Wet lips kiss their way down your neck down to the length of your collarbone. You bite your lower lip when he runs his teeth lightly against the bone. Your body jumps at the new feeling, earning yourself his chuckle as his hand dips under the band of your bra, brushing your left breast ever-so-lightly.

Long fingers slowly make their way behind your back, easily unclasping the concealing material to only partially remove it from your breasts. He pushes the fabric up to your chest as his lips trail your sternum. His hair brushes against your breasts, and you clench your hands, nails biting into the flesh of your palms. The sensation not only tickles you, but it shocks your hyper-sensitive nerves.

You meet Satoru’s eyes. He’s drinking in your every reaction, a smirk on his lips as he watches you squirm beneath him. Readying to say a smart remark, you begin to push back on his hand, but he trails his tongue to your nipple – effectively replacing the words in your throat with a shaky sigh.

Satoru swirls his tongue around your rosey bud, slowly and expertly warming your breast with his mouth. He takes more of the plump flesh into his mouth, sucking diligently as he lets his teeth graze the sensitive peak. You gasp at the feeling, and he groans in response. Each of his intoxicating movements goes straight to that firey pit in your stomach, which only grows hungrier at his touch.

“Mm, Satoru,” you moan breathlessly as he takes your nipple between his teeth, applying the right amount of pressure to the bud as his free hand comes to work your unattended breast.

He hums into your skin, sending delicious shivers down your spine as you close your eyes, losing yourself to the lull of his lips. Long nimble fingers work your breast harmonously with his mouth. They roll, pinch, and tease you as his tongue flicks and swirls. You mewl lightly as he switches breasts, giving the same treatment to your other that he gave the first.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs into your skin, biting into the flesh of your breast, causing you to yelp in surprise.

You open your eyes, meeting his intense blue. He’s smiling against your skin as he ghosts his lips over your ribs, tongue trailing the outline of your tattoo. Your body shivers under him, eager for more as his head dips lower, closer to where you want him the most.

“You’re the beautiful one,” the words come out as a sigh as he presses a kiss to your hip, right above the band of your sweatpants.

“Hm,” he hums, trailing an elegant finger from your sternum to your navel, dipping the digit under the band.

Satoru makes a show of kissing his way across your stomach, from one hip to the other, soft strands of his hair tickling you along the way.

You squirm under him, wishing desperately to touch his hair. Longing to run your fingers through it, to ground yourself to this reality. He senses it, too. Because he gives you a knowing smile as he dips his hand under your pants, just barely brushing the top of your pelvis.

“Getting impatient, Y/n?” he asks playfully as he takes his finger, lightly tugging a corner of your pants, exposing more of your hip to his tempting mouth.

“I want to touch you,” finding some confidence, you push against his restraining hand, silently cursing his immeasurable strength.

“Let’s see,” Satoru pauses, places his head on your thigh softly, then looks up at you innocently. The pressure is dizzying. So you count your breaths to stay alert, to not close your eyes and lose yourself in his presence.

“I’ll release your hands as long as you stay still, can you do that for me, baby?”

There was a mischievous look in his eyes, one that made your throat dry and had you clenching your thigh muscles.

“Y-Yes?”

You couldn’t hide your confusion, but he only smiled at the sight. His hand released your wrists and you immediately moved to shake out the numbness of your arms.

“May I?”

His fingers dance around the edge of your sweats, eyes patiently awaiting your response.

Eagerly, you nod your head.

Satoru, still with his devilish smile, removed your sweatpants from your body. He then slid off the bed, dropping to his knees as he dragged your body to the edge. You rose yourself up on your elbows, not hiding your want from him. But also, you took in the sight – Satoru Gojo, half naked, and on his knees for you.

His hands spread your knees for him, opening your legs wide. You, though still clothed in only your underwear, feel the air hit your heat. It was then you noticed how wet you were, and you know he noticed it too.

Gently placing your legs over his shoulders, Satoru places a slow kiss on your calf. You watch as he drags his wet lips up your leg, pressing kisses to your tender skin. The higher he goes, the more sensitive you become, finding it increasingly difficult to not shift as muscle-jerking tingles hit you.

Your hands find the soft strands of his hair as he reaches your inner thigh, now dangerously close to your need. You feel his breath kiss your heated skin, forcing you to clench his hair so you don’t move. Smiling, he presses his lips to the crease between your thigh and pussy making you sharply inhale. You cross your toes as the shiver runs through you, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“You’re already so wet for me,” Satoru hums appreciatively, then he places a kiss on your clothed mound.

You barely have time to register the feeling, because he licks a zig-zag stripe up your heat, stopping just before meeting your clit. He moans into you as your taste lightly coats his tongue. The vibration makes you squeeze your eyes shut as you moan softly, bringing your hand up to your mouth, and biting down on your pointer finger.

“Mmph!”

Your yelp gets muffled into your skin as Satoru lays his tongue flat against your entrance, pressing his hot mouth against you, then drags it up .

The brief pleasure of him brushing your clit has you trembling. He doesn’t stop till he reaches your navel, tongue dipping into the crevice, swirling around the sensitive skin only to retrace its path down, stopping just above your throbbing clit. His tongue moves left and right lazily, and his saliva coats the cloth of your underwear, intensifying the feeling, but it’s incomplete.

“Ah, Toru’ – please.” your desperate plea fumbles out of your mouth as saliva begins traveling down your chin. You want – no, you need him on you, without any barriers.

“Use your words for me pretty girl~” his words are hot and heavy against you, making you moan. And just for emphasis, he gives your needy clit a light flick of his tongue, making you bite your finger harder.

He knows what you want, but he wants to hear you beg for it.

“Please,” you breathe, unable to think.

His hands join the party now. One goes to remove your finger from your mouth as his other presses his thumb to your entrance, goading you as his tongue continues to just barely flick your bundle of nerves.

“Please what?” he encourages, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“I-I want you,”

You weren’t sure what you wanted exactly. Part of you wanted him to make you see stars with that dangerous tongue of his, but the other half wanted to know exactly how full you’d feel with him in you.

He laughs lightly against you, planting a kiss on your clit as his thumb pushes past your panties, entering your dripping entrance. All air leaves your lungs as he wraps his mouth against your clothed clit, licking while sucking you as his thumb gently pumps your walls.

A broken string of curses leaves your lips as pleasurable fire dances down your legs. The sudden relief leaves your thoughts tangled and incomplete. It’s sweet and taunting, but you’re stuck, muscle taunt, and breath uneven as you try to keep your body still, unable to fully lose yourself to the pleasure.

“S-Satoru,” you throatily moan his name. He groans into you, fingers gripping yours harder as he replaces his thumb with two long fingers, curling them up into you.

Oh fuck.

“Ah, shit just like that,”

You tilt your head back, enjoying the way his calloused fingers feel against your velvet walls. Again and again, his digits just barely brush against that spongey spot in you, heightening the feeling of his ministrations against your clit.

“Deeper,” you plead, needing him to hit your spot.

Slowly, you open your eyes to see him smirk at you. Then, at your request, he pushes his fingers further into you while curling them up. Your eyes roll back as the new feeling courses through you.

“Like that baby?” he asks, though he knows the answer.

“Mm, yes, fuck just like that,” you answer, barely able to think straight. Your feet start to become unbearably hot as your stomach tightens. Your whole body trembles from both pleasure and restraint, and your leash on yourself is slowly slipping. Your back arches as he continues working you, eliciting obscene noises from you.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he praises and you bite your throaty moan back.

Pressing your palm flat against his scalp, you push his head further into you. Taking your silent plea, he releases your hand to push your soaked panties to the side, tongue finally coming into contact with your bare skin. The intense feeling crashes upon you and you lose control of your limbs. You lock his head into place as you dig your fingers into his hair, grinding yourself against his tongue. His fingers match your unhinged pace and he moans into you, sending sweet vibrations down your clit to that growing bomb in your stomach.

You feel your walls tightening as your high threatens to crash over you. Your moans are now strangled and incoherent as everything now feels so good . Finally, you open your eyes, daring to see the sight in front of you.

Satoru’s lovely eyes burn right through you, heated desire evident on his features. The sight of him, on his knees, between your legs, giving you his devout attention, has you shaking uncontrollably.

“Be a good girl and come for me, Y/n.”

His words are your undoing.

You come violently around his fingers, moaning his name like a prayer, walls clenching and unclenching as your body trembles sweetly. Satoru smiles up at you, removing his fingers from you only to replace them with his tongue.

Bringing those two glistening fingers to your mouth he commands:

“Suck,” then his tongue is back into your entrance, fucking you with the stiff muscle.

And so you do, wrapping your mouth around his fingers, whimpering as you suck diligently all while your orgasm rips through you.

He swipes his nose against your hyper-sensitive bud as he laps you up, tongue swirling and curling inside you. You cry out helplessly, fisting your hands in the sheets as your stomach jerks. The pleasure is numbingly good, but it’s too much.

“S-Satoru– Ah sto– Jesus fucking Christ,” The last part of your broken sentence comes out in English, which grabs the man's attention. Amused blue eyes peer up at you, taking in the sight of the mess he created. His lips glisten with you and they’re pulled into that familiar smirk. You couldn’t help but think he was beautiful, like that of a fallen angel.

He removes himself from your heat, finally taking your ruined panties off your body as you close your eyes, breathing hard and unevenly. You try to collect yourself, but the after-effects of your orgasm still linger in your veins, stealing your attention.

But you are far from satiated, if anything, it left you wanting more .

Blindly, you reach out for his body. Your fingers find his biceps and you tentatively run your hands down his smooth skin, despite the tingle in your fingertips. Satoru plants a sweet kiss on your cheek, then your temple, then your forehead, until he’s placed kisses around your entire face, leaving you with light giggles. His weight returns to your body, and you’re happy to feel his bare legs brush against your own.

“Feel good, baby?” he mumbles dreamily into your skin, still placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin.

Smiling as you trace the outline of his tricep, you open your eyes to find him looking at you sweetly. The sight makes your heart lurch. So you return his kisses, pressing your lips to his heated skin, tasting yourself on his flesh.

“I think,” whispering, you bring a shaky hand to his chin, wiping away some of your desire.

“This speaks for itself. But,”

Kissing the corner of his mouth, you run your other hand down his abdomen, nails lightly digging into every dip and ridge of his defined muscles.

“But?” he hums, and you feel his lips pull into a smile.

Your hand travels south till it reaches his length. You take the girthy member in your hand and pump him once, relishing in the way it jumps in your palm as Satoru inhales sharply.

“I want to taste you, too.”

With your hand that held his chin, you turn his face to you, capturing his lips. Your desire coats your tongue as his muscle dances with yours. You slowly pump his throbbing member, thumb swiping over the tip, coating his soft skin with a bead of precum. Satoru steals your tongue, sucking on your muscle while groaning.

Hooking your legs around his, you flip your bodies so you are now on top of him. You pull back from the kiss to admire the sight. Soft white eyelashes flutter against his red cheeks as you continue pumping his cock.

You watch as his throat bobs up and down and he licks his lips. The image added fuel to your growing fire, filling you with determination to not only please the man before you, but to make him as much of a whimpering mess as he made you.

A playful smirk tugs at your lips as you place a kiss on his neck. You continue working his shaft, focusing mostly on the head, but with only enough pressure to move his skin, but not to truly stimulate him. Your lips travel south, your tongue joining the mix as you admire his body, ensuring to greedily trace the skin where your mouth doesn’t explore. Satoru shifts under you, slowly growing more impatient as lick your way down the line that separates his abs.

You hold his stare, watching as his eyebrows knit together the closer you get to his cock.

Giving the male a knowing smile, you pull his shaft back, allowing yourself the space to flatten your tongue on his pelvis. You feel the light prickle of his growing pubic hair as you drag your muscle to his hip bone, tracing the outline of it with the tip, enjoying the way his body shivers under you.

Goosebumps pepper Satoru’s skin as his hands find your arms, rubbing them lightly. Smiling, you press your lips to the crease of his thigh, then lick the skin beneath. You feel Satoru’s thigh muscle tense and you chuckle, applying more pressure to the tip, earning yourself a low groan.

“So responsive~” you tease him with his own words, pressing your thumb to his tip, admiring the way his desire coats your skin.

Bringing your face close to his need, you breathe lightly onto his heated skin, knowing full well what the light sensation did to him. You watch as his eyes roll back slightly, his large hands now wrapping around your biceps as he shudders.

“Say,”

Pausing, you swirl your tongue around him once, then flick the head lightly. Satoru half moans, half chokes from the sudden sensation. But you pull back completely, returning to your taunting hand movement.

“Tell me what you want,” you whisper seductively, licking your way up from his base to the tip, this time allowing yourself to taste him. The salty yet sweet taste coats the very tip of your tongue, and you moan appreciatively.

Satoru tilts his head back and bites his lip. You feel his hands tremble, noticing his restraint.

“Your mouth. Now .”

You click your tongue.

“Here?”

Pressing a kiss to his thigh, you feel his cock jump in your hand. You knew you were playing a dangerous game, but you were also drunk off of the sheer power you held over this man. Who’s body is sculpted like that of a Greek god and holds the title of the strongest, yet yields to you.

“Y/n,” he warns, voice low and strained. His hands now move to your hair, tangling themselves in your strands, pulling lightly.

I like it when you say my name.

“Ah, you’re right. Here?”

Pushing his skin up so that his precum leaks out, you press a slow open-mouthed kiss to the tip, licking your way across the bulk of the head. You continue this exact motion, pumping him just as slowly as you were kissing him. Satoru watches you intently, hands shaking in your hair as you hold his gaze.

“More,” he urges desperately, bucking his hips up to go deeper into your mouth. You relent, but only for an inch.

Removing your hand entirely, you rub the sides of his thighs as you slowly suck that inch of his cock, swirling your tongue at the tip with every motion. You watch Satoru go mad, both hating and loving your tease. There was desperation in his eyes along with restraint, and you took advantage of that.

As soon as he knew exactly how well you could take it, well, the game would be over.

“As much of me as you can Y/n,” Satoru is breathing heavily, hands still in your hair but he doesn’t force himself in your mouth. Instead, he holds fast, letting you continue your slow torture.

You hum around him, allowing half of his cock into your mouth, the tip now reaching the back of your throat. His eyes roll back as you suck a little harder, but not any faster. You bring one hand to cup his balls, gently massaging them as you work his shaft. A soft moan leaves Satoru’s lips as it goes to your core, urging you to forget your game and give him your all. But he’s not near the point where you were when he finally gave in, and that alone makes you hold out.

Continuing to softly hum into him, you start to add slurping noises to your song. Satoru’s eyes roll shut and a small whimper leaves him.

“Can you take more of me, baby?” his fingers massage your scalp, feeling the slow bob of your head.

Oh, you think you're too big, do you?

With an inward smile, you let your thickened saliva dribble down to his base, then you quickly take all of him in. You hollow out your cheeks and relax your throat, letting his impressive length travel down your esophagus till your nose is touching his stomach.

“S-Shit–” Satoru curses, strong hands holding your head in place for a moment. Once he releases his grip, you return to your previous position on his shaft, sucking his member slowly.

His eyes shoot open, looking at you with both shock and confusion. You flutter your eyelashes sweetly as you continue your torturing pace. Satoru sucks in the air between his teeth, the realization of you not being as innocent as he may have thought settling over him.

“Please,” he breathes heavily, eyes transfixed on the base of his cock where your mouth was just moments before. You could hear the desperation in his voice, and it was delicious .

Taking him out of your mouth with a satisfying ‘ pop ’ , you stick out your tongue, slapping his cock against it. His eyes turn dark at the sight as his mouth falls slightly open, a satisfied smirk pulled on his wet lips.

“Please what, baby? What do you want? Don’t be shy.”

You trace the outline of his red tip with your lips, eyes never leaving his. His throat bobs as he considers his words, clearly, he still views you as fragile, and you have every intention of breaking that image.

“Please let me fuck that dirty little mouth of yours,”

You smirk, planting a kiss on his head, and then you hop off the bed, taking him with you. Satoru silently follows your lead, eyes raking your frame as yours watch the way his member stands proudly against his stomach. Angry red and glistening with your saliva.

Sending your confused lover a wink, you get back on the bed, laying on your back, hanging your head over the edge.

You now have a full good view of his perfect body. You hungrily look at his length, happy to find that it has a light curve. You clench your legs together at the thought of him in you, and Satoru smiles. He spreads your clenched legs while his other grabs his shaft, giving it a pump before he slaps it against your lips.

“Open up baby,”

At his command, you open your lips, making a show of stretching your neck and sticking out your tongue. Satoru leans forward, bracing himself with one hand as his other guides his cock into your mouth. He slowly pushes himself down your throat, giving you a moment to adjust to his thickness. At this angle, your throat is tighter and it's harder to breathe, but that’s what you wanted.

He begins moving his hips. His start is slow, allowing your saliva to coat him. You take the time to find the right position, hands going to cup his ass for the support you knew you were going to need. Then, just like you thought, Satoru moves. His hips snap forward with just enough force to push himself down your restricted throat, but not enough to crush your nose. You moan into his skin, happily hollowing out your cheeks, slurping and choking on him.

“God you’re so fucking perfect,” he moans while his free hand goes to massage your clit.

Rough fingers work your sensitive bundle of nerves, moving the soft skin with each thrust of his skillfully controlled hips. Your tongue moves with him, licking and wrapping around what it can. You begin to lose yourself in his soft moans, enjoying them as the air in your lungs becomes thinner and thinner.

It gets increasingly hard to breathe and you love it, sucking down what bit of air you can in between each of his thrusts. Your mouth pools with your thick saliva and it trails down your chin, spilling onto your neck, but you pay it no mind. You simply angle your head further, digging your fingers into his ass to give him better access to your abused throat.

His hand moves to your entrance, two fingers plunging into you, fucking you at his relentless pace. Satoru's palm rubs against your harden clit and tears prick your eyes. Strangled moans fight to come out of your throat between his movements as abrupt pleasure courses through you, motivating you to please him further.

Satoru’s thrusts become more erratic and you begin to feel the base of his cock twitch in your mouth, prompting you to moan around him. You send sweet vibrations down his cock, and he curses under his breath, fingers in your pussy delving deeper, brushing that spot, making your stomach tighten.

“Fuck,” groaning, Satoru thrusts himself deep into your throat, pausing entirely as thick ribbons of his seed shoot down your pipe. His fingers that pleased you move to your throat as he feels himself come in you. You hold still, licking him with your tongue until he readies himself to slowly pull out of your mouth.

Turning so your belly is flat against the mattress, you start to swallow his seed, ensuring your gulp is audible so he hears you. He watches you with a smile on his face, hand coming to cup your cheek, thumb sweeping over your near-bruised lips.

You take note of his cock, still very erect against his chiseled stomach.

“You’re full of surprises, Y/n.”

Your name left his lips in a breathless pant, and it was enough to make your walls clench.

Satoru smiles down at you, dropping to his knees so he can capture your lips. The kiss is tender and soft, and it sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“You hurtin’ at all?” he asks between each press of his lips. You smile into the kiss, playfully nibbling his lower lip.

“Not at all, I could do that again.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as his hands run down the length of your spine. The touch is light with no intention other than feeling your skin. Satoru pulls back from the kiss to press his soft lips to your forehead.

“We can stop here if you want.” his voice is full of practiced calm.

His hand runs down your hair, soothing your mind all while your body is still burning with desire.

It had been so long since you had shared a kiss, let alone your bed with someone. The touch of others felt so invasive until Satoru. You would be damned if you let him go now.

“Satoru, you’re not going to hurt me.”

Nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, you sigh. You knew he had insecurities, and you know it’s only amplified by you being entirely, well, human. But you want to ease his worries, in every way you possibly could.

“You don’t know that, Y/n.”

Pulling back, you force him to hold your stare.

“Our time is short. I don’t want to live my life with regrets. I want you, Satoru, in all senses of the word.”

You lovingly hold his face, thumbs gently sweeping over your cheeks like he had done for you. The quiet tender gesture lingers between you as your breaths intertwine. You see him considering your words in those knowing blue eyes, ever-calculating and so full of thought.

“Promise me you’ll tell me if I hurt you.”

A laugh almost escaped your lips. The serious look on his face would make anyone stop cold, but it only made you smile.

“I promise. But you won’t hurt me, I trust you.”

At those words, Satoru captures your lips, tongue sweetly passing through your lips, immediately claiming yours for his own. Tentative hands explore your body, fingers lightly brushing over your sensitive skin, making you shiver. Moving to tangle your fingers in his hair, you run your teeth along the expanse of his tongue, smiling at the groan that leaves his lips.

Satoru’s hands guide your body up as he stands, his lips never leaving yours even as he presses your back to the mattress. Gentle hands spread your legs for him and you hiss. The feeling of cool air hits your wet need followed by the feeling of Satoru’s still slick member rubbing up against you. His warmth shocks you and he smiles at the gasp that escapes your lips. He pulls back from the kiss to meet your eyes.

Primal desire stares back at you.

You can’t help but let your eyes travel south, watching as he rubs himself against your slickness, hand on the base of his cock. His tip just barely brushes your clit and you moan, feeling your walls immediately clench at the swift pleasure.

“You want this dick, Y/n?” Satoru’s gravelly voice asks as he slaps his cock against your clit.

Dear lord help me.

“Y-Yes,” you half breathe, half moan out.

“Look at me,”

You do as commanded, tearing your eyes away from his impressive length to find his heated gaze.

“Use your words,”

He rewards you with another slap to your clit and you moan, the brief relief making your toes curl. Mindlessly, you run your hands down his arms, raking your nails down his triceps as you try to formulate words.

“Please fuck me,” you watch his face, eyes full of hope, but he only clicks his tongue and shakes his head, prodding your entrance. His taunt is maddening, and you try to shift your hips down, but a strong hand holds you in place.

“You can do better princess. Tell me exactly how you want me,” he smirks down at you, tip still just barely pushing at your entrance, all promise of everything you want.

Biting your lip, you swallow your pride.

“I want you to fuck me so hard that every time I sit down I can only think of you.”

A small breath leaves his lips and he smiles, shaking his head. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting that answer.

“So full of surprises,”

“Surprised are you–”

Before you could finish your sentence he pushes himself into you, stealing all the air from your lungs.

His thick length pushes past the first ring, and the feeling is so sickeningly sweet. Relief floods your veins as he fills you, your walls stretching to accommodate and hug his member, pulling him further into you.

“Holy shit,” you sigh, digging your nails into his arms as you spread your legs wider, giving him all of you.

“God, Y/n, you’re so fucking tight even after all that.” his voice is strained as he grabs your right thigh, fingers digging into the plush of your skin as he bottoms out in your pussy, holding completely still, allowing you to adjust.

You feel your walls clench and unclench happily, he stretches and fills you so well it is dizzying. You press kisses to his sculpted chest, a silent plea for him to move. He picks up on your hint well, slowly pulling his hips back to only push them back into you. Even a heartbeat of him not being in you made you feel so incomplete, the way his body fit with yours was almost too perfect.

“Fuck Satoru,” you moan closing your eyes, letting your head fall back, focusing solely on the blissful feeling of him.

His hips keep a steady slow pace, allowing your bodies the chance to adjust to one another. Satoru shifts your leg to prop it over his shoulder, making him go just a little bit deeper into you, pulling a throaty moan from you.

“Hold onto something baby,” he warns and you barely register his words, hands enclosing his wrists as he picks up his pace, pulling his cock out of you to the tip to snap it back into you.

“Oh my fucking God,” your eyes snap open as you watch Satoru rail your pussy. Your breasts bounce at his pace and you moan loudly, unable to hold back your noises.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, Y/n.” he praises breathily and you moan, happy for the praise.

“Mmph– Fuck so do yo– ahh” your sentence is broken, unable to speak due to the dizzying speed of his powerful thrusts.

Each snap of his hips is expertly controlled. He angles himself up so he doesn’t hit your cervix as he ensures not to fully crush your body. One hand holds your thigh in a fixed position as his other holds your hip, moving your body with his seamlessly. Heavy breasts bounce against your chest as your body feels electric, alive, and taught; like you’re walking on a live wire. Pleasure kisses your nerves, promising new, but terrifying heights.

“Open your mouth,” Satoru’s strained voice commands, and your pussy pulses in response.

Swallowing thickly you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for dramatic flare, trying desperately to keep your eyes open. Satoru smiles at the sight, leaning over you further, then spits in your mouth. Your mixed taste coats your tongue and you whimper as his thumb goes to circle your clit.

“Hold it in your mouth till I tell you to swallow princess. Can you do that for me?” your stomach tightens at the sensation of his thumb, but it’s almost faint due to the overwhelming pleasure his cock brings you.

Feeling entirely submissive and breedable you nod your head, your saliva already beginning to build in your mouth.

“Good girl. Now, on your knees.”

Satoru completely releases your body, allowing you to flip over and get on all fours. A whimper leaves your lips due to the loss of him, but you shake your ass for him. The action earns you a slap to your ass, his fingers dig into your plump skin as he shakes the flesh for himself, and you curse, feeling your desire drip down your inner thighs.

You feel his nimble finger trail your wet slit, and he whistles. Then, his mouth is on your ass, tongue circling your tight ring. Strong hands shake your ass as he continues to lick and probe your hole, making your legs shake. The feeling is entirely new, and it feels good. Not as good as when he eats your pussy, but it's enough to have your walls clenching and clit throbbing.

The spit in your mouth begins to push out of the corners of your lips as you try to hold your moans back. Your hands are fisted in the sheets as Satoru trails his way to your dripping entrance, tongue dragging down till his licking your sensitive clit. As if it wasn’t enough, his thumb pushes into your tight asshole, pumping the well-lubricated hole.

I am not going to survive this man.

“Swallow baby, let me hear you.”

You gratefully swallow your combined spit, moaning loudly as your first breath leaves your lips.

“Satoru fuck me please,” you plead, feeling so empty it’s maddening. Now that you’ve gotten a taste, you were certain your body wouldn’t grant you release unless he was in you.

You feel his head pull away from your pussy as his fingers enter you, just barely scratching your itch. It was laughable to compare the feeling of his fingers to his cock – it wasn’t nearly enough.

“Like this baby?” his thumb still plays with your asshole as he curls and pumps his fingers in you. Your thoughts are tangled, and words are hard to push out of your throat, getting caught in the thick layer of saliva coating your mouth.

“I want… Your cock. Please, please, please, I–” tears pricked your eyes, you were overstimulated.

Closing your eyes you took deep breaths, feeling as he pulled his fingers out of you to only wrap his hand around your hair, pulling your neck up. His tip pokes your throbbing entrance as his heavy breath kisses your ear.

“You want me, Y/n?” the heavy seductive words makes your spine tingle.

“I want all of you, Satoru.” though you tried to force your voice to sound normal, the words came out in a quiver.

“Good,”

Then he was in you, cock plunging deep within your velvet walls, stoking the burning fire in your stomach. You arch your back, mewling harshly at the abrupt feeling of him filling you.

“You feel so good, fuck.” Satoru kisses your shoulder, pulling his hips back to then fill you back up, thick member stretching you too fucking good.

With his hand still wrapped around your hair, he pushes your neck down so your face is pressed against the mattress. You open your eyes, face rubbing against the bed, and watch the man above you. His head is tilted back, bottom lip between his teeth as he works to make you both feel good – hips rolling into yours, enjoying the feeling of your walls sucking him back in.

“You’re so beautiful,” you moan softly, completely entranced.

Satoru smiles, eyes opening and he pushes strands of your hair away from your sticky forehead.

“All you baby girl,” he pushes himself further into you, angling himself up, completely hitting that spot.

“Oh fuck!” you curse, letting the brief pulse of intense pleasure run through you.

“You like that baby?” knowing full well what he’s doing, Satoru grabs your hips, hitting your spot again, making your muscles jerk.

“Ah– Yes!” words were lost to you as white-hot pleasurable fire ran through your veins, making your entire body shake.

“Who’s pussy is this?” Satoru grunts, thrusts becoming more erratic.

“I– Mmph, yours!” with eyes rolling to the back of your head, you focus on your core, feeling your high threaten to crash over you.

“That’s right, Y/n.” fingers dig into the flesh of your ass “You’re. Mine.” he declares between powerful thrusts, still ensuring to hit that spongey spot, making your vision blot with white.

“I– I am so fucking close, Satoru,” the words are a cry and you feel your whole body become taught, preparing itself for its inevitable crash to earth.

“Come on my cock baby. Let me make you feel good.”

And as if the word was law, your body did as he asked.

Your second orgasm ripped through you, pulling a scream from your throat. It’s dizzying, disorienting, and far too intense. Your body spasms uncontrollably as electrifying pleasure coursed through you, making your toes curl. You try to run away, but you are locked into place by Satoru's strong hands. With each pulse of your orgasm, your walls clench and grip Satrou’s cock, dragging him to earth with you. He ensures to thrust harmoniously to the rhythm of your pulses as thick ribbons of his cum mix with your own, filling up your belly.

With breath heavy and uneven, you both fall to your mattress. Sartoru's sweaty body presses against your back as he rubs your arms all while pressing kisses to your temple. Your body shook as you came down from your high, thighs jerking with each breath and light movement from the male still plunged within you.

“You feeling okay, beautiful?” his words are a soft whisper against your skin.

Eyes still close, you nod. The intense pleasure left you light-headed and unable to speak. So instead, you angle your head and capture your lover’s lips. Soft and sweet, and entirely loving. Satoru smiles against your lips, hands lightly rubbing your sides.

“Let's turn over so I can hold you, yeah?" his words tickle your lips, making you smile. You let him move your body with effortless ease.

The male holds you close to his chest as he wraps his arms around your small frame, enveloping you in his radiating warmth. His strong heartbeat sounds in his chest, and you listen to it in earnest, thankful for the fact that he is alive.

You stay like that for a moment, listening to the sound of him while he kisses your skin, both being silently thankful for the other.

“I love you, Y/n,” Satoru whispers into your hair, lips still pressed to your scalp.

With a child-like smile, you peer up at him. Brillant blue peers into your soul, calling to you, to your bond, and your heart sings in response.

“And I love you, Satoru. My heart is yours.” his eyes fold kindly, just like that first night in your kitchen.

“And mine is yours. You’ve healed me.”

—

You spent what little time you had left with Satoru, soaking up every minute, second, and hour. You both decided it was pointless to dwell on the unknown, so instead you enjoyed each moment that you were allotted. Sharing stories of your adventures, travels, and struggles. You healed each other, in ways that one would think impossible. You renewed each other's souls, in turn binding yourselves together.

“You know, that day we met, I think my heart knew before I did that I needed you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t even know you, but seeing you was enough to wash away every ounce of my pain. My body moved before I could think. So I dropped the lamest pick-up line ever known to mankind.”

“Haha, yeah. But it worked out didn’t it?”

“That it did. You are my greatest treasure, Y/n. I love you.”

“I love you too, please come back to me safely.”

Satoru smirked, all of his bravado pulled into every atom of his existence.

“Don’t worry, I am the strongest. I can’t leave my fiance all alone now can I?”

“No, you can’t.”

“See? So don’t worry about me, baby.”

With that, the lovely male plants a passionate kiss on your lips, and then walks away.

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ranchstoryblog · 5 months ago

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ICYMI: Rune Factory: Guardians of Azuma Livestream News

youtube

Earlier today there was a nice, hour-long livestream covering new information and details about the upcoming Guardians of Azuma, set to release on May 30th. The stream archive is linked above, and is absolutely recommended viewing, but if you just want a quick summary of the basics, that's what this post is here for!

15:05 - Countdown Ends, most recent trailer begins playing. The trailer features the different season-based villages, Village Builder Mode, Adventure, Romance, and story-focused segments.

18:50 - Our host, Ovilee May introduces herself and welcomes viewers to the livestream. She also introduces us to Suzie Yeung, the voice actress for Kaguya, the game's heroine, and Brandon McInnis, voice of the game's hero, Subaru. They emphasize how much work they've put into the game, with a lot of voice acting and story emphasis for the game. Brandon and Suzie describe the protagonists as "good listeners," but adds that Kaguya is refined and elegant while Subaru is a bit more brash.

22:48 - An overview of the Rune Factory series, with slides pictured above. Brandon relates a story about how his voice acting career began during his play-through of Rune Factory 3. Suzie hasn't played Rune Factory yet, but is a fan of farming sims. The basics of the series are laid out, farming, fighting, romance, RPG elements, etc.

30:13 - A look at Guardians of Azuma specifically. Describing it as a re-imagining of the series, building on the core tenants of the series but adding village building and earth dancing. There is emphasis on the turtle in the artwork, which is appreciated as turtles are extremely cool. Please look directly at the turtle in the above image.

32:32 - The next segment focuses on the Earth Dancers, our protagonists. Brandon and Suzie emphasize again that their characters are a bit brash and more elegant respectively while also adding that Subaru is a bit more emotional and Kaguya is more reserved.

34:25 - We move on to the next segment, which covers the Village Builder and farming aspects of the game. Players will be able to place residences for villagers, build farming/ranching facilities like barns, and storefronts. Ovilee emphasizes that you can design the town for your own quality of life, such as setting up the blacksmith next to your home instead of having to run into town every time you need them.

35:20 - There's emphasis on the Eastern style to the game's world design, though there will be some Western aspects as well, such as foods. No specific mention of actual Western foods included in the game.

36:33 - Bows and Talismans are new weapon types, and the ability to recruit monsters and party members to adventure with you as a returning feature is emphasized. When asked about favorite characters, there's some evasion on being able to mention specific characters, but shout-outs to Woolby, the game's mascot.

38:19 - We pivot to the romance side of Guardians of Azuma. If there was any doubt, same-sex relationships are emphasized as a returning feature. While, there was some evasiveness on favorites at first, Brandon does say that the writing is wonderful and that different scenes would make him laugh or cry from the ways different relationships play out before highlighting Cuilang's story in particular.

41:15 - Ovilee, begins asking Suzie and Brandon about their characters. Kaguya and Subaru being childhood friends who were betrothed in an arranged marriage before the events of the game, where things "get complicated." Ovilee then asks about their opinions on the depths of the relationships of the characters. The phrases "comprehensive," "fleshed out," and that each side character has a strong story without short-cutting anyone. Playing their characters did have plenty of strong emotions, with Suzie mentioning one of the characters made her extremely angry, "I was ready to take a swing at somebody." Kaguya and Subaru have a lot of history with each other as well.

45:33 - Garrison Denim, localization team member, joins the group to hand out three Sacred Treasures from the game, a Sacred Drum, Sacred Sword, and Sacred Parasol. After praising our voice actors, it's time to jump into some gameplay. Garrison narrates as we're given a look at Spring Village, the first in the game. Village customization is emphasized, and it's shown that villagers are also helping with the farm work, not just the player. They can plant, water, harvest, and each villager will have distinct qualities and specialties. You can also still use monsters to handle your fields.

Next, the Sacred Treasures are introduced. Each has special abilities: The Sacred Parasol can water every tilled tile simultaneously, the Sacred Drum can speed up growth, the Sacred Sword generating seeds from crops ready to be harvested. While the drum is being used, there is a pop-up referencing a "Drum Dance Skill Tree."

An alternative, birds-eye view for village customization is shown. Maintaining villages will be extra important, as you're "not farming just for yourself" as the leader of these communities, and "making sure all the villagers are fed." There's also a lot of decorations to help creative village designers. Each village will have a fully customizable space, or multiple spaces, to use.

55:55 - We now switch to demonstrating combat. Your party can have a maximum of six, filling in with romance candidates, monsters, or villagers while you adventure. It's demonstrated that bosses have specific weaknesses and that filling a stun gauge can allow you to get an upperhand, and different characters will have different specialties. You can also ride some monsters, relationships with party members will improve, Sacred Treasures are demonstrated to offer combat abilities like debuffing enemies, and perfect dodges will grant bullet-time like effects.

1:07:22 - It's time to get to relationships! There's a new menu while interacting with characters that will give you options based on your bond level with them, with new options unlocking as your bond level increases, as well as a time-based cost. Each character has a variety of different things to do with them, as well as likes and dislikes, and some interactions lead to distinct scenes.

1:12:25 - Sakuna collaboration DLC! She exists as a villager, can join your party, and such. She's itty bitty. We also get to have a little look at the Collectors Bundle. Closing out, Suzie and Brandon also mention that this is probably the longest running project they've worked on, with lots of hard work and voiced dialog that they're looking forward to players experiencing. Finally, the newest trailer plays again.

#story of seasons #rune factory #rune factory: Guardians of azuma #guardians of azuma #runef factory guardians of azuma #Youtube #emphasize

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nymphomaniaa · 2 months ago

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something about us [XX] "parasite" — a preview!

summary: this snippet includes part of a scene where the reader sets up a photoshoot for a merch drop featuring the lunch club members.

warnings: slightly nsfw joke

notes: FINALLY finished this monster of a chapter! it's really long because it sets up the current "arc" ending and the next one beginning, so it's... kind of a roller coaster of emotions. below is the only part of the chapter that i felt was fluff-ish enough to include as a lighthearted preview, so make sure to buckle in when you read the actual chapter because... oh boy. it's a lot.

Returning from the postal office (where the Lunch Club P.O. box was now up and running in hopes to receive packages from fans in the future, thanks to you, of course), you held the most important package in your arms three weeks before the start of TwitchCon. Inside this large hunk of cardboard were the finalized versions of the new merch that you had painstakingly worked on throughout the past spring and summer. It made it past weeks of reviews, tweaks, and packaging delays, and was finally in your possession, ready to be distributed to the boys so they could finally promote a project that had been on the works for months.

In the basement's common area, you spent most of the morning by yourself, working on setting up a photoshoot area for the group using a backdrop screenprinted with a repeating minimalistic pattern of the official Lunch Club logo — courtesy of a manufacturing company Ryan suggested weeks ago. By the time you finished setting up the studio lights borrowed from Ted, arranged a couple of chairs on the set, and unpacked the box of merch to take a peek inside, most of the group had finished eating brunch upstairs.

Ted was the first to come down, since he was the one with the camera you would use for the shoot, so he was the first one to be spoiled by the surprise. "Woah," he's taken aback by the set at first, bewildered by how official you made it look despite the very limited supplies you had. "This looks really professional for only costing, what, like, two hundred bucks? And my lights?"

"One hundred and eighty bucks, actually, with shipping and taxes," you snarkily reply, placing your hands on your hips with pride.

Ted lets out a halfhearted laugh, then after fiddling with his camera, hands it over to you. "Take good care of her. I've had her since the beginning of film school, she's practically my baby."

You wrap the neck strap around your head gently, and offer Ted a thumbs up while looking down at the camera screen, trying to orient yourself to its panel. "We're all good to go, I think. If you could bring all the boys down for me, please?"

"Yes, madam," Ted beams, then suddenly runs up the stairs, shouting, "Alright fellas, get all of yer asses down here right now! We're aboutta' start rootin' and shootin'!"

A distant drawn out "yeehaw" (likely from Charlie) above you makes you roll your eyes. These boys never ran out of ways to make noise echo throughout the house.

One by one, each of the Lunch Club members step down into the basement with 'oohs' and 'aahs,' until all of them convene in front of you and are now ogling the box behind you. Methodically, you explain that you would start with getting shots of each member with their respective pieces of merch, then you would get photos of each of them wearing the group merch, then a few group pictures with all of them together: one set with their group merch, and one set with them wearing whatever they chose to wear. All of these stills would be displayed on a new merch website that had already been prepared in advance by one of Schlatt's web developers he worked with, but you also intended to get some short candid video clips of them just goofing around and chatting with each other that could be used for a video promotion that could go on their channel.

If all went well, they could start promoting their merch exactly one week from now, and by the time TwitchCon rolls around, the manufacturing company should have enough pieces shipped to Ryan to be sold at the Lunch Club booth.

The shoot went as well as expected. Each member had their turns modelling their own pieces, with the remaining boys being hypemen behind the camera. As each session went by, you had a difficult time containing your excitement. Your art and your designs were on official pieces of merchandise that people all over the world had access to. You were directing a photoshoot, which granted, you had never done before nor had interest in, but for your first time trying it, each member seemed happy with the results when their mini modelling session was over.

Of course, when Schlatt's turn came around, you took the opportunity to get him in certain poses that accentuated his features. Partly for you to shamelessly stare at his good looks in your own time, but also partly because you knew a certain part of his audience would be more inclined to support the merch drop if he looked overwhelmingly handsome in his own clothes. If he could take advantage of you being a woman in his Love or Host show, you could take advantage of him being eye candy in clothes you designed. More money for the group. Everyone wins, and the score will be even between you two.

"Let's have you lean a little onto that back leg, and put your left thumb in your pocket... Then just look at Travis behind me... No, chin a little more to your right. There you go. Intense stare, and…" you directed the tall man, as you kneeled on top of a nearby stool to compensate for his height.

"Can you roll up your sleeves a little, like so the hem goes about an inch below your elbow? Then just do that exact pose again... Yep, that's it. No, stop giggling. You're serious. You're calm. You're serious."

"Sorry." You’re unsure what is so funny, but he stifles his laughter, then settles into the same pose as before.

"Okay, then can I maybe get you on the stool? Yeah, just sit like you normally would. Push your right knee outwards a little more, then let's get your elbows resting on your knees. Yep, and then clasp your hands together, and lift your head and look towards Trav, but not too much? You're trying to showcase your hat, so only let your eyes look up at him, not your entire head. Chin to the right. Perfect."

"I feel like you're shooting a fucking porno of me," he tries to contain his laughter. "It's like you're recreating that one face reveal photo of me looking up at the camera,"

"Just trust the process, J," you roll your eyes as the shutter snaps a few more times when he closes his mouth. "Here, you wanna look?"

You open the camera's preview gallery and show the rest of the boys first, who burst into a roar of overexaggerated gasps and whistles.

"Holy shit, he's hot!" Charlie moans, pretending to fan off his face.

Schlatt pulls himself off of the stool and meanders towards you, reaching a hand out to ask for the camera. Once you give it to him, and he clicks through the photos, he raises his eyebrows in approval. "Holy shit, I am hot."

"You sure are, handsome. Now get back in that damn chair, we have more porn to shoot," you tease. He shakes his head, chuckling as the boys keep cheering him on, chittering in excitement for his newfound confidence after seeing himself on camera.

read the entire chapter here, or start from the beginning here.

#schlatt x reader #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt x you #real person fiction #rpf #nyxschlatt

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stargazedwinchester · 9 months ago

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Begin Again | Sam

This one is part of my Taylor’s Version series! View the masterlist here <3

Summary: After leaving a toxic relationship, your facade of a white picket fence life can’t fool the eyes of your friendly neighbor Sam Winchester.

Warnings: Small flashback regarding toxic relationship

This one is a little different from the original Supernatural storyline at the start, Sam does have a white picket fence life and is still a hunter, just in case it's not clear enough in the story :) also part 2 maybe?? let me know!!

"I've been spending the last eight months Thinking all love ever does Is break and burn, and end But on a Wednesday in a cafe I watched it begin again"

Word count: 1,082

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

“Fuck!” You shout, only just dodging his hit. You see the rage glow in his eyes, your cheeks are flushed maroon and your forehead sweating. “I’m gonna fucking kill you,” he states, his eyes fixated on you. He lunges forward with his fist clenched so hard his knuckles are white.

“No!” you shriek, taking the blow. You try your best to defend yourself but end up staggering into the china cabinet. You cower toward the floor, tensing your arms and legs hoping to be able to cover yourself from any more hurt.

It doesn’t help.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

A few days had gone by at this point and you’re finally allowed outside to go grocery shopping. Carrying the bags from your car, the sun shines lovingly on your face. Birds are chirping. There’s a couple of kids out playing fetch with their dog on the street. Sometimes days like this don’t make you feel any better than the Hell you’re living in. If anything, they help emphasise your insecurities that are made a hell of a lot worse because of that dipshit back home.

You don’t want to go home.

“Hey,” a voice startles you from behind. You turn to the left and see your new neighbour walk down the porch stairs. “Oh, hey Sam.” You greet him, a half-forced smile planted on your face as you squint from the sun.

“How you doing?” He asks, placing his hands on his hips, acting completely naturally. You nod hesitantly. “Yeah, I’m good. You?” Conversations with him are a little awkward for many reasons. He had just moved in last week. He had probably heard what happened the night before and he’s also extremely good-looking. You can’t look him in the eye. It’s too daunting.

“Yeah, uh, I’m sorry to bring it up—“He gets cut off and your boyfriend slams the front door and shouts something over at you. His face reveals that he’s mad and this time you have no idea why. “I’m sorry,” You whisper, “I need to go.” You finish, rushing off and leaving him standing there. His eyes never left you. Sam sighs and turns around to go back inside, keeping his gaze fixed on you to ensure that you make it inside without your boyfriend making a scene.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

It had been a couple of weeks and Sam had tried to talk to you about what he heard that night, but you never brought it up again. Maybe he had a change of heart and thought that if he brought it up, it could cause an issue, or even have upset you. Sometimes bringing things back up isn’t worth the hassle.

You haven’t seen him much, except for this 1967 Chevy Impala that parks outside every other day in the early hours of the morning where you can have a tiny bit of freedom from your everyday life. Window-watching and reading books in the moonlight has been your escape for as long as you can remember. But this time, instead of Sam, and you assume his brother, leaving toward the car, he makes his way over and attempts to peer through your window. Although he can’t see anything, he turns to his brother and says something, pointing back at your window.

Out of pure curiosity and some courage, you attempt to open the window without your boyfriend noticing. You slide it up, turning around to check on him each time. You’re damn lucky he’s a heavy sleeper.

“What are you doing?” You whisper-shout, confused as to what they’re talking about.

“What do you mean? Why are you awake?” He shouts back.

“You’re at my window, pointing at me with this strange man. So tell me, what the hell are you doing?”

The guy who’s with him huffs, shrugging his shoulders. He mutters something to himself and looks offended. “What’s his problem?” you reply, and Sam smirks.

“Strange guy?”

“Yeah?”

“What do I look like, a kidnapper?” He mentions, and it makes you chuckle quietly. “Listen, lady, are you coming down or what? Prince Charming here wants to rescue you from your... palace.” Sam looks at him, eyebrows furrowed. “What?” He questions, his mouth slightly agape, as he just cannot believe his brother outed him like that.

“Just come down, will you? Pack some things.”

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

You had practically moved across the country to live with Sam and his brother, Dean. Sam knew exactly what was happening back home and had made a deal with himself to get you out, even if it killed him.

This morning, the pair of you walk down to a cafe near a motel you’re currently residing in. Whilst ordering, Sam tells you to go find a seat and he’ll bring your drink over. You agree and find a booth in the corner. He brings your drink over and sits opposite you.

His demeanour is calm, yet like he needs to ask you something. You dismiss it though and assume it’s because he’s dealt with a lot within the past few weeks. And so have you.

“Y/N,” he starts, taking a sip of his black coffee. “Can I ask you something?”

“I feel like it’s gonna be a tough question.” You laugh, and Sam smirks. His dimple deepened into his cheek. “What made you want to leave your old life behind? And to just trust me after only knowing me for a month?” He asks, a genuine question you haven’t even thought of answering. You struggle to find an answer, because truly, there’s nothing that comes to mind.

“I mean... you want the truth?” You ask, and he nods. You update him what exactly what happened, who did it and why you thought to just say ‘fuck it’ and have the balls to finally have a chance to escape whether that meant losing your life for it. Sam has been concentrating on you telling your part so much that he looks emotional himself. His eyes are soft and understanding. They’re glossed over as if glazed with icing sugar. You can tell just from his aura he’s a sweet guy. Putting your trust in him seems like the right thing to do.

You both share your childhood trauma and as much as it hurts to bring it back up, you both poke jokes and find a little humour in all of it.

But at least in this little cafe on a random Wednesday morning, this place, this atmosphere, and Sam allows you to begin again.

#supernatural #spn #supernatural imagines #spn imagines #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester imagines #sam winchester imagines #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #sam x reader #dean x reader #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester fluff #dean winchester fluff #spn x reader #supernatural x reader

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world-of-fantasies · 29 days ago

Text

"Hold Me Forever" : Chapter 2

Words: 1859

Pairing: Finnick Odair x FemReader

Time: 75th Hunger Games (Catching Fire)

Warnings: some physical violence, kisses, any Hunger Games talk

Summary: It's time for the reaping, but something seems a little different than normal behind the scenes, and it's off to the Capitol with you and Finnick.

Note: Nothing too exciting, more filler, but please read still! I hope my writing can provide some entertainment for someone out there!

*Also, I don't own most of these characters! Some I created, but mostly they are from the good old Hunger Games series.

Series Masterlist...

Previous...

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Pre-Games: District 4

The Reaping

I looked at myself in the mirror one last time before heading outside to meet up with the other Victors for the reaping. I donned a long, light, ruffly dress, patterned with a gradient of blues, simple black flats, my classic gold necklace, and my short hair framed my face with soft waves. I looked nice, but that didn’t distract from the fact that I had a one-third chance of being picked for the Games, though I knew whoever was chosen, I would end up as the tribute. Smoothing out my dress and taking a deep breath, I turned and walked out the door.

As we walked through the District 4 population, Finnick and the other men on one side, Annie, Mags, and I next to them, you could feel the tension in the air. Nobody wanted any of us to go in. With most in District 4 becoming more realistic and sensible than the other Career Districts, they were beginning to realize how sick the Games were. Now it didn’t matter, as two of their favorite people would go back in.

We all lined up on the stage, men to stage right, women on the left, while Mariana stepped up to the mic.

“Welcome, everyone, to the 75th Hunger Games, and the 3rd Quarter Quell.” It was obvious she was trying to hide her pain with a smile. “Let’s get right to it, women first.”

We all held our breath as she walked towards the big glass bowl that held only three pieces of paper. She stirred them around slightly for anticipation before pulling one out and walking back to the mic, opening it on the way.

“Annie Cresta,” she said, causing a gasp from the crowd, and Annie immediately sobbed beside me.

“I volunteer as tribute,” I said as confidently as possible, though a slight waver made its way through.

This caused another gasp to be heard, and I turned to Annie, giving her a tight hug, before I pulled away to stop myself from crying and stepped towards the podium.

“And now, for the men.”

She stepped over to the adjacent bowl, doing the same actions as before with the four papers, and came back towards me.

“Finnick Odair.”

I turned my head to see my boyfriend step up next to me, holding out a hand to the other men, preventing them from volunteering for him. As he moved, he reached his other hand out to me, grabbing mine and raising it in the air while the crowd screamed, wishing us luck and not wanting to say goodbye. After a second, we put our hands down and were prepared to walk back and say goodbye to whoever we needed. Instead, two peacekeepers grabbed our free arms, ripping us away from each other and behind the doors.

As soon as the doors closed, they walked down the hallway, quite roughly, but I didn’t think anything of it before I noticed we were walking past the rooms where we would get to see our loved ones.

“Wait! We get to say goodbye!” I screamed, noticing my family sitting in the room, confused as to where I was.

“(y/n)!” my brother screamed as he stood up, but he was pushed back down, and the door was closed.

“No wait! What are you doing?” I yelled, trying to rid myself of the peacekeeper’s grip and advance towards my family.

Suddenly, he pushed me down to the ground.

“Hey! Stop that!” Finnick shouted as the peacekeeper on his arm continued to pull him towards the train.

Then a gloved hand was struck across my face, and I cried out.

“(y/n)! What the hell!” Finnick yelled as he got further and further away from me.

What was happening?

At this point, Finnick was out of my eyesight, and before I was dragged back up and towards the train, I was kicked as well, most likely for resisting the hold of the peacekeeper. Then I was yanked away from my family for good.

When we arrived at the train, I was pushed aboard, and the door closed in my face. I bit my lip and made my way into the living room where Mariana and Finnick stood, whispering with their backs hunched, very clearly trying to be quiet. I took a step towards the two, causing a slight sound, and they both turned towards me.

“Angel,” Finnick said before rushing over to me and holding me tight in his warm embrace. “I have no idea what happened, but something is very different this year.”

I nodded my head against his shoulder and thought about how, unless I survived the Games, I wouldn’t ever see my family again. When Finn and I pulled apart, Mariana swooped in and kissed my cheek before hugging me as well.

“Well, this isn’t exactly where I’d hope to see the two of you again, but we’ll make do,” she sighed, pulling away and placing a hand on each of us, Victor's shoulders.

***

The Train

That night, we dined on the expensive Capitol food, sipping on wine, and trying to come up with small talk between the three of us. Once we had stuffed ourselves full of turkey, potatoes, charred kale, fruit salad, a small dessert, and whatever else was available on the table, we got comfortable on the couch to go over all the Victor's chosen or volunteered to go into the arena.

The tape began with District 1. As expected, the stage was full of past Victors, all smirking towards the audience, ready to go back in and represent their District. In the end, the siblings of Cashmere and Gloss were waving to the crowd and flashing their pearly whites. The scene in District 2 was much the same as 1, plenty of Victors, all vicious and ready to attack at any time. Enobaria was chosen as the female, while the male was volunteered by Brutus.

“Do you want to work with them this time around?” I asked Finnick in a small voice.

It was usually Districts 1, 2, and 4 that made up the Career group, but this year it seemed as though the others would rip our throats at the first available opportunity.

“Unless you want to for some reason, I was thinking of staying as far away from them as possible,” Finn replied, making me smile.

Beetee and Wiress were chosen in District 3. They were two of the smartest people in Panem that I knew. Both were quiet, and some thought crazy, but incredibly nice and bright. Finnick and I were shown next. I sat up straighter and leaned forward a bit to see myself jump in front of Annie to volunteer, almost seeming as if I was so desperate to get back into the arena, I had no choice but to stop the girl. I knew otherwise. After I pulled away from my best friend’s hug, I gave a light smirk to the audience, making me look much braver than I was. Then there was Finnick. He stood high and proud when his name was called and stepped forward, putting on a confident face and waving to the crowd. He made me fall back in love with him all over again.

The rest of the reapings seemed to pass pretty quickly, some of the standouts being Blight and Johanna from 7, something I was very sad and mad about, Woof and Cecelia from 8, and Chaff and Seeder from 11. Every time the new Victor popped onto the screen, my heart sank even more at the thought of having to face these people in the arena. Many were very close to me, like Johanna and Seeder, and I couldn’t bear the possibility of having to kill them.

It ended with the young District 12 Victors who had won last year’s Games most extraordinarily. They were the star-crossed lovers of 12 and had ended up winning together, something very controversial. Their use of Nightlock berries forced the Capitol to grant the victory of two tributes instead of no winner at all. Seneca Crane, the head Gamemaker that year, had been heavily criticized and in the end was killed for his failure, resulting in the role being taken over by Plutarch Heavensbee this year. I didn’t know the man, but I assumed he would be like all the other Gamemakers, sick with passion for the Games.

“(y/n)?” Finnick’s voice cut through, distracting me from the thoughts.

I turned my head to see that the screen had been turned off, and Finnick was looking at me.

“Mmhmm?” I asked.

“It’s late, but we’re arriving soon. Do you want to change or just stay in that?”

I looked down at my dress of many blues and decided it was nice enough that the Capitol citizens at the train station would love it.

“I’ll just stay in this,” I smiled.

“Good, because I love it.”

Suddenly, Mariana sat up taller like she remembered something and quickly made her way over to us.

“Right, that’s something I need to talk to you two about,” she squeaked, sitting next to us.

“What do you mean?” Finnick asked.

“Um, well, your relationship. We need to think about it strategically.”

We both looked at each other and her in confusion. We had been told since the beginning of our relationship to keep it private for our safety, denying the Capitol another way to torture us. What did she mean strategically, though?

“You know how you’ve been told to keep your relationship a secret? For your safety?”

We both nodded.

“That’s even more crucial than usual. These Games are at another level. Snow and all his people can take you guys being flirty with each other, but if you two were officially put out to be a couple, just imagine the possibilities that would open for Snow to do his worst in that arena. To either of you. There are going to be more ways to pick up every movement, every word, every single little look towards each other, with this possibly being the most important Games in the history of Panem. Your safety is our biggest concern.”

For a moment, we were all quiet. The thought of Snow doing something to Finnick to hurt me had crossed my mind before, but never in the way of the arena. I wanted to protect us as much as possible, even if that meant taking the pretending that we weren’t together to the next level.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Finnick said, breaking the silence. “I’ll do anything to prevent more harm than the Games already give us.”

I looked over at him and nodded my head before curling up under his arm, feeling safe for the time being. We sat like that for a while, he played with my hair while I just lay there, comforted in his embrace, sad that we wouldn’t be able to do that in the arena if I got that far.

“We’re pulling up,” Mariana said after about 10 minutes, causing Finnick and me to give one final passionate kiss and make our way to the window.

************************************************************************

Next...

#hunger games finnick #the hunger games #hunger games x reader #hunger games x you #finnick x you #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick fanfic #hunger games fanfiction

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scarisd3ad · 11 months ago

Text

To the end and back | Daryl Dixon x reader

Chapter twenty six | I love you, I’m sorry

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Warnings - ANGST! Guns, and shooting, Death, mentions of sex, cursing, usual twd warnings

Summary - after the world ended you were sure you’d never find love again but a certain archer catches your eyes and changes the entire trajectory of your life.

(A/N) - it’s finally here! Yay I’ve been working on this chapter since may and I’m so happy I’ve finally finished it. I know progress with my fics have been moving a little slower that they usually do but I’m hoping fingers crossed 🤞that I am able to speed the process up a little in the coming months 🫶🏻 also finally introducing the governor as the readers father in this chapter, I kind of hinted at it last chapter, to play around with the idea of it being canon. And I really like the ideas and situations I’ve came up in my head to put them in.

‘The suicide king’

S3 ep 9

Daryl is unbagged and pushed forward towards the middle of the arena. Merle and Daryl stand frozen, their eyes scanning the crowd in utter disbelief. The deafening sound of boos and heckles echoes throughout the arena, drowning out any other noise. Daryl's chest is heaving, faster and faster with each shout made from the audience of people. A blonde woman is attempting to force her way through a group of people, most likely the Governor's personal bodyguards, to get closer to him.

She manages to get through the first set before a surprise second set grabs her up before she can even get to his side. The governor - or maybe I should just start calling him Philip - because I finally know who the man behind the oh-so-mysterious name 'the governor' is. It's funny, I've been looking for this man for the last, what? 20 years of my life and I'm able to find him not even a year into the apocalypse so easily. How could he avoid his kids for 20 years in the old world, but he couldn't even last a year without me finding him now?

I really want to know how my father, Philip Blake, ended up being some dictator for a survivor's refugee camp. I almost want to laugh at how 'badass' he looks right now. makeshift eyepatch over one eye, as he looked over all his people so proud to be an asshole. My father was never much of a threat, but god he tried to be, though he really tried. I didn't hear much about my dad growing up, my maternal grandpa always muttered about how he was "such an asshole of a man", but the one thing I did hear from my paternal grandmother was that he ended up skipping town got some stupid office job and started a new family. it was all some bullshit about needing to start over, without my 'slut of a mother'.

His arm raises, so it's pointing towards Merle. The people of Woodbury immediately quiet down as their leader begins to speak. "I asked where your loyalties lie. You said here." Daryl was finally let out of whatever shackles that were placed around his arms, letting them fall to his sides freely. "Well, prove it. Prove it to us all." My blood runs cold.

"Brother against brother," he says with a dry chuckle. The crowd copies their leader, letting out a small chuckle that's paired with a quiet "yeah."

"Winner goes free" the crowd cheers at that, probably hoping and praying that Merle is able to win. Even though Merle was now deemed possibly 'unloyal' in the governor's eyes, it was still the better option for them. If Daryl died, Merle would have absolutely no reason to want to help us. Merle would go back to being Philip's loyal righthand man, and we, the 'terrorists' would be dead. Glenn had already told them our location and they would be marching up to our door with pitchforks in no time. Philip walks towards Merle shouting "Fight to the death!" as he does so. The crowd cheers once again. This was a scene taken straight out of one of those shitty medieval times shows.

The blonde woman finally turns, revealing her whole face to me. Andrea, the woman I thought I had accidentally left for dead, was here? Of all places, how did she end up here? Well, she had already shown us she didn't care about being led by an asshole, and if she was as close with Philip as she seems, she should already know how much of an asshole he was. "Philip, please. Don't do this," Andrea pleads, as one of Philips's men holds her back. "Don't do this!" He doesn't even glance at her, choosing instead to keep his eye on his prey. He glares at the two men standing in front of him, a smirk on his face that shows he truly enjoys this. The torture. He doesn't even have to do it himself, he just has to sit back and watch.

Merle raises his hand in the air before shouting "Y'all know me!" the crowd cheers, and I can see the absolute look of betrayal on Daryl's face. "I'm gonna do whatever I got to do to prove..." He hesitates for a moment before swinging his arm back and delivering a forceful punch to Daryl's stomach. With a loud grunt, Daryl collapses to the ground, and the crowd erupts in excitement. I stand frozen, unable to believe what I'm witnessing. how could he do that? Do that to his brother? "Holy shit," Jack gasps as Daryl begins to push himself up off of the ground. "That's my loyalty to this town!" just as Daryl has gotten his head off of the ground, Merle kicks him, sending him right back onto the ground.

Daryl lies motionless on his back, his chest heaving up and down with a faint rhythm. My eyes are fixed on him, hesitant to glance away, as if by doing so I might miss the final moments of his life. Merle continues throwing blow after blow as Philip watches on the sidelines with a sick look on his face. The crowd cheers as they lead out a walker. It's practically on a leash as some man, probably another one of Philips's men, leads him toward Daryl and Merle.

Finally, Daryl throws a punch. It's towards Merle's ankles but it gets him somewhere. It gets Daryl back onto his feet. Daryl launches himself toward Merle, tackling him, or at least trying to, but Merle has a leg up in this competition. merle gets Daryl down to the ground first. Both men have their hands around each other's necks as three of Philips's men lead three walkers towards them.

I don't even know what to do to help Daryl out. I could cause some type of distraction. If something more dangerous happens, it could give Daryl the freedom to escape. My eyes fall to my bag. I open it up and grab my gun right as Daryl and Merle get back to their feet. The two are working together to defeat the walkers.

My ammunition is running dangerously low, but my determination to save Daryl is unwavering. I'm willing to take the risk and use my last bullet to help him escape. My breaths come in quick and shallow as I raise my gun, my hands trembling with apprehension. I take aim at a man standing near Philip. I let out one more shaky breath before pressing the trigger and letting the bullet fly out of the gun and toward the man. Luckily for me, my aim was amazing today. The bullet tears right through his skull. Everyone around him screams as he falls to the ground with a thud.

Suddenly, someone behind Jack and I start shooting rounds into the arena, which makes even more of a ruckus. As I turned around to glance behind me, my eyes fell on Maggie, who was casually leaning against the top of the cold metal dumpster that was situated behind us. She shoots round after round into the arena. I let out a sigh of relief and began running back towards her. rick throws one of his smoke bombs, and Maggie continues to shoot. All I can hear is the sound of the automatic rifle and screams. Everyone's scattering like flies. Rick looks up at me, his mouth is open as if he's about to ask me something before his eyes flick to Jack who's stood behind me. "Who's that?"

"Old friend... he helped me," I reply. Rick continues to stare at Jack, scrutinizing him from head to toe as if he's trying to find a reason not to like him. I already know what he's going to ask. "Is he one of the governor's men?" I quickly respond, "He was just a resident and didn't know anything about what was going on, right Jack?" Jack nods, muttering a quiet "mhm."

Daryl and Merle sprint towards us while Rick urges, "Daryl, let's go!" Without wasting any time, we all take off at full speed, our hearts pounding with fear of being spotted by Philip or his men. The only sound that can be heard is our pounding footsteps on the ground as we race towards safety.

We manage to escape the arena and run back into the main town area. We were cautious as we walked around, hoping everyone was in the arena, but there was no actual way to know, so we were as careful as we could.

"they're all at the arena, this way!!" Merle instructs, attempting to lead us toward an exit. Rick was quick to shoot down the idea of Merle going with us. "you're not going anywhere with us!" he growls. "You really want to do this now?!" Merle asks as he runs towards the fence, attempting to pry apart the metal, as Rick and Daryl stand guard. I pray to God Rick won't say anything about Jack going with us. I don't want him to stay here, knowing the possible doomed future of Woodbury.

Finally, Merle manages to pull apart the metal, leaving a nicely sized hole in its wake. We all slipped through without a problem, but we're only met with walkers on the opposite side. "A LITTLE HELP WOULD BE NICE!" Merle shouts as he beats a walker to death with his prosthetic arm. Daryl was quick to pitch in, shooting a walker with his bow. I pull my gun out, shooting off my last bullet into a walker's head, "We ain't got time for this!" before beginning to sprint off.

I stand motionless next to Jack, anticipation building as we await instructions from Rick. "let's go!" Daryl shouts once it's been more than a few seconds, Rick, Maggie, and I not moving. I'm glad Daryl hasn't asked about Jack yet. Maybe it's just because he's too busy to realize. But I hope he never mentions it. I'm scared he'll get mad, or jealous. He's just a friend now, hell we were tiptoeing around a breakup when the outbreak started. But I don't know how Daryl is with exes. I know he can get jealous; he has many times before. Normally, I can predict what he'll do in certain situations, but with Jack, I just don't know how Daryl will react. rick folds, deciding to follow after Merle rather than die.

The walk back to the car is long. My hands are in my pockets as I trail behind a bit, with everyone else at least a few feet ahead of me. I don't mean to eavesdrop, but I can't help but overhear Merle and Daryl's conversation. "sooo, wha's up with you'n tha' bitch?" Merle asks, his head tilting back, so it points towards me. My heart stops, wondering what Daryl would say. Would he refer to me as his girlfriend? Even though we already had discussed what our relationship was, and I was confident in my role as Daryl's girlfriend, I was scared that he'd be embarrassed to admit that we were in a relationship with his older brother.

Daryl's quiet for a few seconds, giving his brother enough time to throw in another comment. "You to fuckin' around or something?" Daryl chuckles left hand rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Um...I guess me'n her are together," he says with a shrug. Merle almost immediately bursts out in a booming fit of laughter, which makes Rick turn around and glare. I don't understand what's so funny. Was it so farfetched that Daryl and I were dating? I can see the back of Daryl's ears turn a bright red as his hands nervously play with the hem of his shirt. "yer datin' her! ain't she fuckin' that Chinese boy?" I almost scoff at Merle's assumption. I can almost hear Daryl's eyes roll as he says, "Nah... they're just friends."

"ya sure? I remem-" Daryl's quick to shut Merle down once again "I'm sure"

It's about 20 minutes later when we end up back at the other side of the large acre of woods where we parked the car. As we approach the car, Rick whisper yells out Glenn's name, which makes both Glenn and Michonne get up and run to us. "Oh, thank god," Glenn sighs out as he approaches us. Rick was quick to squash the inkling of relief that Glenn had by revealing our newfound problems. "Now we got a problem here. I need you to back up." the moment Merle's face comes into Glenn's sigh, his face instantly contorted into anger "What the hell is he doing here!" Michonne pulls out her Katana in an effort to protect herself, and Daryl, he's quick to begin yelling in an effort to protect his older brother. There is a gun pointed at almost everyone in the group. "are you guys always like this?" Jack mutters quietly, "Always," I reply with an eye roll.

Everyone is yelling over each other; I can barely understand one word that's coming out of anyone's mouth. "Yeah, right after he beat the shit out of you," Rick scoffs, while I cross my arms over my chest, feeling absolute annoyance simmering inside me. "Hey, we both took our licks, man," Merle chuckles as his back presses against the tree behind him. "Jackass" Daryl scoffs with an eye roll. merle pushes himself off the tree. "Hey shut up!" Merle shouts back at his brother, his voice filled with pure annoyance. The brotherly squabble is quickly shut down by Rick with a loud "Enough!" but that just turns into another fight. "Hey! hey! Relax! Put that down!" Rick shouts at Michonne, who's got her Katana pointed at him. "Get that thing out of my face!" Daryl shouts, swatting at Glenn's gun.

Merle laughs. "Man, look like you've gone native, brother." Daryl turns around, his anger now fully directed at his brother. "NO more than you hangin' out with that psycho back there." Merle just has a smirk on his face, mainly just to piss Daryl off even more. "oh, yeah, man. He is a charmer, I got to tell you that. been puttin' the wood to your girlfriend Andrea big time, baby." Merle said eye's making direct contact with Michonne. my eyebrows furrow with confusion, not because of Andrea fucking my father, that was predictable, Andrea liked a man with power, but I'm confused because Andrea and Michonne had known each other. Glenn's just as confused brows furrowed as he asks "What? Andreas in Woodbury?"

"Right next to the governor," Daryl replies. Michonne takes a few steps forward, pointing her Katana in front of her once again, with the intention of hurting someone. "I told you to drop that!" Rick shouts, lunging forward, making Michonne lower it once again. Michonne has a blank expression on her face as Rick asks, "You know Andrea?" her eyes don't make contact with Rick, instead settling for somewhere right behind him.

Rick doesn't take her silence for an answer, so he gets closer, and his voice drops to a low, sinister whisper, "Hey, do you know Andrea?" he asks once again. She doesn't answer, letting Merle answer for her. "Yep, she does," he says, a smirk displayed on his lips. "Her and blondie spent all winter cuddlin' up in the forest. Mm-mmm-mmm." Rick has a look of betrayal on his face as Merle continues to reveal more and more of Michonne's secrets. "Yeah. My Nubian queen here had two pet walkers. No arms, cut off the jaws, kept them in chains."

What. The. fuck? two pet walkers! "kinda ironic now that I think about it." Daryl is done with Merle's mouth. Daryl quickly spins around shouting "Shut up, bro!" Merle laughs, obviously finding Daryl's anger hilarious "Hey, man, we snagged them out of the woods. Andrea was close to dyin'."

"Is that why she's with him?"

Merle nods. "Yeah. Snug as two little bugs. So, what ya gonna do now, sheriff, huh? Surrounded by a bunch of liars, thugs, and cowards." Merle says, just poking and prodding at Rick, trying to get a reaction out of him. And a reaction is what he got; Rick turns his head, commanding Merle to "shut up!" Merle, being Merle, doesn't comply and continues his antics. Merle chuckles. "Oh, man, look at this. Pathetic!" he shakes his head in faux shame. "All these guns and no bullets in them."

Merles once again got on his brother's last nerve. "Merle! shut up!" Daryl growls, leaning forward a bit, trying to intimidate his older brother. Merle doesn't take that and begins to shout, "Shut up yourself! Bunch of pussies you roll-" Merle isn't even able to finish his last sentence before Rick quickly strikes him in the back of the head with his gun, causing him to fall to the ground unconscious with a thud. "Asshole."

We're all gathered around in the middle of the road, leaving Jack sat on the side of the road, feeling he had no place in the conversation, and Merle still in the woods. Daryl's trying to propose that Merle comes with us, but Rick's not so sure, feeling it will just cause trouble. "It won't work," Rick sighs. Daryl still tries his best to convince Rick, though "it's gotta" I'm not on either side. I know Merle is nothing but trouble. I've known that since the moment I met him. But I also know that Daryl has beaten himself up over losing his brother for the past year. I know having his brother with our group again would make him happy. I want Daryl to be happy, I really do, but Merle has already caused so much trouble for our group. Hell, he kidnapped and almost killed Glenn and Maggie.

"it'll stir things up," Rick argues. I know he's right. Having Glenn and Merle under the same roof probably won't end up well. Glenn was already so pissed off; it wouldn't be right to make Glenn and Maggie feel more unsafe than they already did. "Look, the governor is probably on the way to the prison right now. merle knows how he thinks, and we could use the muscle," Merle did already know a bunch about Phillip, but who says he's even gonna help up, all he did back at the quarry was fuck around and start unnecessary fights with Shane.

"I'm not havin' him at the prison,"

"Do you really want him sleeping in the same cell block as Carol, Beth, or hell, Casey?" Glenn asks. thinking about it, I don't want Merle Dixon anywhere near Casey. I know Merle is Daryl's brother and all, but he should really think about this. I was barely comfortable being within 5 feet of Merle myself let alone my 5-year-old. he has to start thinking about the bigger picture, he has to start thinking about how this could affect Casey, Carl, and the baby. Daryl grunts before muttering, "he ain't a rapist." He wasn't a rapist, but he sure did make me more than uncomfortable on multiple occasions. Look at him, the way he talked, the men he hung out with; would he really want that kind of person around the children?

"Well, his buddy is." Daryl was still trying to plead Merle's case. "They ain't buddies no more. Not after last night," I sigh, arms crossing over my chest "C'mon D you know how Merle is, do you really want that around case?" he huffs, trying not to make eye contact as a look of betrayal spreads across his face.

"There's no way Merles gonna live there without putting everyone at each other's throats," Rick says. I know Rick doesn't want to piss Daryl off, but he also wants everyone in our group to feel safe. "So, yer gonna cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?" Rick shakes his head, saying "She's not coming back. "

"she's not in a state to be on her own" Maggie argues. Maggie and Glenn continue to try and plead Michonne's case. "She did bring you guys to us" Glenn whispers, in a way he's right. Michonne had helped us, but she's already practically gone rogue pointing that damn katana at people. we just don't know what she's capable of yet. "And then ditched us" rick argues, head turning towards Glenn. "at least let my dad stitch her up" Maggie begs, we can't just leave her out for dead, we should at least let Hershel check her out, so she's has the best chance of survival out there, it just the right thing to do. "She's too unpredictable." She's a loose cannon, that's for sure. On one hand, she has proven herself to be beneficial to our group, but on the other hand, she has also shown us that she could be harmful to our group. She's helping us, but also going missing for a long period of time and pointing her damn Katana at us like we're the bad guys.

We're staring at Michonne. She is leaning against the side-view mirror, staring back at us, almost as if she knows we're talking about her. Scratch that, she probably does know because Rick is not trying to whisper at all. He wants her to know she's unwanted, hoping she'll take a hint and scurry off before Rick can boot her out. Daryl nods agreeing with Rick, "That's right, we don't know who she is" he mutters, but he's only agreeing with Rick right now to try to slip in a word about Merle staying with us.

"But merle, merles blood." Daryl says almost acting like we're all some big family. Deep down, I have a feeling he'd run if Merle asked him. We're not blood, I'm not his wife, Casey's not his daughter. I'm his girlfriend, barely even that sometimes, and Casey, she's a little girl who has accidentally grown too attached. The 'D' around my neck means nothing if Merle is asking for something, and I know that. I wouldn't expect him to choose me over his brother, and I know he wouldn't expect me to pick him over mine, even if it would be a difficult decision for me.

Glenn shakes his head in disgust. "No, merles your blood, my blood, my family is standing right here, and waiting for us back at the prison." We had no ties to Merle, no need to keep him. The only one who did was Daryl. we all know the line we're tittering on, we all know the thoughts and decisions racing through his mind. We all know he's thinking about leaving and going with Merle. that's why my eyes are burning into his with a stare begging him not to. Begging him not to make me go back without him, begging him not to make me explain why he didn't come back. "And you're part of that family, but he's not. He's not"

I can see the anger boiling in his chest, the words he's trying to fight back. "Man, ya'll don't know" We all stare at him waiting for him to say it because we know he is "Fine. we'll fend for ourselves." he finally says it, which almost sends me over the edge. I just want to scream at him. How could he just leave, leave after promising he'd come back? "that's not what I was saying," Glenn says, trying to make Daryl think about his decision. "no, him, no me." It's as simple as that. He didn't think about Casey, Carol, Beth, or hell fucking me. "Daryl, you don't have to do that"

"It was always merle an' I before this" Then he makes eye contact with me, and he sees it, the tears pooling in my eyes that I desperately try to blink back, the begging the pleading, but he doesn't care. "So, you're just gonna leave?" I ask finally breaking my silence. His eyes meet mine. "you'd do the same thing," he mutters. My brother, he wasn't like Merle. He wouldn't be booted out of the group because my brother was a good man. "What do you want me to tell Casey? you promised her you'd come back." he shrugs, almost like he doesn't care. "y/n ya gotta understand this is my brother, my blood. You'd do the same if you found yer's. I know ya would"

"My brother's dead," I say, my voice comes out bitter and harsh. Because how could he bring up my brother, who's dead? Who died trying to help me? How could he compare his racist, misogynistic, absolute scumbag brother to mine? "Then ya should understand. "my arms cross over my chest, and my face twists into a disgusted expression. I can't believe he'd just leave us like that. After everything we've been through. He said he loved me. I thought he thought more of me. I thought this was it. I thought he was going to be my husband.

Daryl starts walking, pushing past Maggie and me, muttering, "Say goodbye to yer pops for me." I spin around on my heels, facing him now rather than Glenn and Rick. I'm practically chasing after him shouting "You're seriously leaving?! After everything we've been through?!" he ignores me and just continues to walk until he gets to the trunk of the car. He opens it and begins to gather his items.

"So, this is it?" I whisper, my hands shoved in my pockets, "guess so" he mutters, my heart drops and tears begin to pool in my eyes once again. "Seriously? What about Casey?" he shrugs, not answering because he knows whatever he's going to say is just going to piss me off. "What about me D? What about us?" a tear falls down my cheek, and my hand reaches up to wipe it away. "you'll get over it," he mutters, slinging his bag over his shoulder. That hurt me. It felt like a stab to the gut. Did he really think I just get over him like that? He shakes his head, almost as if he was trying to ignore the tears that lined my waterline. he's trying not to care.

I've watched Daryl grow so much as a person in the last year. The man I knew yesterday was a scrap of the man I had met at that quarry. But somehow, with Merle's reappearance, he went back to the Douch bag he was. He no longer cared for Casey, Beth, or Carol. He no longer cared for me. He no longer cared about us. All the late-night conversation meant nothing, the necklace meant nothing, Casey meant nothing. "I-I love you," I whisper, hoping it would change his decision. Hoping the quiet admission of love would snap him back into reality.

"Then stop..." he mutters. His words are so bitter, so calloused they slice right through my heart, breaking it into a million pieces. "ya got whoever that guy is over there, ya got Glenn. know you'll be fuckin' one of them by the end of the week," he mutters. Hot, angry tears begin to fall down my cheeks. How could he say that? Was that really all he thought of me? A slut? Did he think I was only with him for the sex? The sex that was so far in between that I can't recall the last time we had it. Did he not notice how in love I was?

I rip the necklace from my neck and throw it at him. It hits his torso before falling to the ground with a soft thud. The silver metal glimmers in the sun staring up a simple reminder of what we were, and what we could have been. "Fuck you" is the last thing I mutter before wiping my tears and turning to walk back towards the group.

The ride back to the prison is a blur. I sit in the back, middle seat, with a shell-shocked look on my face. I don't want to cry, but my body wants me to cry. There's a lump in my throat and I'm desperately trying to hold back tears. The whole ride Glenn muttering quietly to me, "I'm so sorry" "I didn't think he was really going to leave" I don't pay attention to him. I can't listen, I can't pay attention. I just want to be in my head right now. I feel the car stop and feel people leave, but I don't pay it any mind. I don't even pay any mind when I hear the shouting outside. I just want this all to be over.

I'm zoned out until I feel the car park, and everyone gets out. I get out, hands shoved in my pockets. The only thing that knocks me out of my head is the feeling of two little arms wrapping around my leg. "you're back," Casey squeaks as I bend down and pick her up. Her arms wrap around my neck and her head buries itself into my shoulder. I know the inevitable question awaits us, and I still don't know what I'm going to say. When I feel her head leave my shoulder and begin looking around, my heart begins to slam against my chest. "where's Daryl?" she asks eyes still searching, "he...Daryl left"

"Did he die?" she asks, brows furrowing up as I shake my head. I'd rather he had died. It's easier to explain to her that he died rather than he decided to leave us. "No, baby. He found his brother and decided he needed to be with his family." Her brows furrow up even farther, if that's even possible. "I thought we were his family?"

When I get back inside, I tell Casey to stay with Carl and go up and find an empty cell. This is when I finally let myself break down. Sitting on the bed with my head in my hand, I just let go. I'm full-on ugly crying, with tears streaming down my face, and snot bubbling out of my nose. I just hate him so much for leaving. Broken sobs escape my lips as I try to keep myself as quiet as possible. I don't want anyone else to know how badly this hurt me.

My chest rises and falls fast with each gasp I take. The only thought that is racing through my mind is why would he do this? How could he do this? Did he really think that I was a slut all this time, or was it Merle's comments about Glenn, and I that suddenly had changed his opinion of Glenn and I's relationship? Did he seriously think I didn't love him?

"You, okay?" a knock on the wall pulls me from my thoughts. I look up to see Carol. My bottom lip wobbles as I shake my head 'no'. she lets out a sigh as she nods and slowly walks towards me. She takes a seat next to me on the bottom bunk. "You want to talk?" she asks, her arm coming to wrap around my body and pull mine close to hers. I shake my head 'no' once again. I could barely think about him without a blubbering mess, let alone talk about him to someone else.

My head buries into her chest as her left hand rubs small circles into my back. "I know, I know," she mutters as broken sobs erupt from my throat. I just hate him so much for leaving with Merle, but at the same time I want him here, and I want him to hold me. I want to hear him tell me he loves me.

I sat in that cell for the rest of the night, not bothering about dinner because I had already felt sick to my stomach. The only human interaction I have is with Casey at bedtime when she cuddles up next to me in the bottom bunk. I can't bring myself to touch the stuff Daryl had left behind, because I know I'll either break it or throw it at a wall.

Casey's eyes were heavy with sleep, and yawns erupted from her every few seconds. She didn't want to sleep on the top bunk. For the past few months, she only knew what it felt like to sleep between Daryl and me. There was always a warm body next to her, no matter what. I can't bring myself to think how last night was for her. Through a yawn, she whispers, "I miss Daryl" I let out a heavy sigh. In a way I miss him, I wish he hadn't made the choice he had made, I wish he would have considered how'd those decisioned would affect us. I wish I didn't have the burden of living the rest of my life wondering if he's alright, so I guess in a way I miss him.

Casey eventually drifted off to sleep, and I quietly slipped out of bed, hoping that everyone else had retired for the night. As I tiptoed down the stairs and into the dimly lit rec room, I noticed Glenn sitting at a table in the far-left corner. He was shrouded in almost complete darkness, with only his hoodie standing out in the dim light. His head faced down; one elbow propped up on the table to hold it up. "How you holdin' up?" I ask, breaking him from his thoughts. I can see him just and let out a tiny gasp. "shit" he mutters under his breath as his head snaps up to see me.

I laugh, a small smile breaking across my face. "sorry" I whisper, walking across the room to meet him at his table. "watcha doin' up so late?" I ask, sliding into the seat beside him. "can't sleep you?" he asks. I shrug, not knowing why I was still up. I felt like I could sleep for a good week if I really tried. "So...did Jack get booted out with the rest...or..." I ask referring to the commotion I had heard earlier that day involving rick. Glenn shakes his head "Nah, didn't wanna upset you anymore than you already were," he says, tiptoeing around the subject of Daryl.

I can't help but feel bad about Glenn and Maggie. Every time I see the black and blue bruises that decorated his face, I can't help but be reminded of who caused it. I hadn't thought about him in years. The only times I was reminded of the faded remembrance of his face were in old family portraits that were in boxes up in my mom's attic.

1992 or 3 maybe, I was three years old in the picture, mom was heavily pregnant, and dad looked so young. I never realized how young both my parents were when they had me until I looked at those photos. Mom looks maybe 19, dad had to be at least 21. He's got me on his hip, we're all pushed in close, one arm around a waist, Dad's face and I's squished together. We looked so happy.

When I saw his face out in the crowd, I was 12 years old again up in the attic, sorting through boxes, finding the dusty portraits. Wondering how he could leave us. I wasn't stupid. I remembered those last few months, the last year. I remembered the drinking, the fighting, the bruises. I remembered the broken potted plants I remembered my brother's broken arm. I just couldn't believe the man who wore such a bright smile could be so evil.

How could he hurt me, hurt my brother, hurt my mom? I feel like I'm sitting in my paternal grandmother's kitchen this time, maybe 15, listening to her blab on and on about his family. His wife, his daughter. His daughter he loved so dearly, the daughter who had replaced me. 'He just loves her so much,' she said 'No one can take away a father's love for their daughter'. I hadn't thought of him since that moment. After that, I gave up on having a dad. I gave up on waiting. I finally realized he just didn't love me, and I couldn't change that.

But yesterday, seeing him again was like a punch to the gut, and finding out that he was the one who hurt my friends that made me furious. I wanted to be the one to hunt him down. I wanted to be the one to kill him. I couldn't wait to see his face when he realized who I was and what I was going to do.

"Glenn, can I tell you something? But you can't get mad" his brows furrow, a sliver of a smile displaying on his lips as his mouth opens to say something. I'm quick to cut him off, finally revealing the hardest secret I've ever had to keep. "the governor is my dad" his eyes widen, and fear sets in quickly, terrified he'll hate me. "What?" he asks, it coming out as a half laugh as he stares at me. His eyes fall up and down my body, examining every single one of my facial features, finding everyone that even slightly resembled Philips. "Are you joking?" he asks, head cocking to the side in disbelief. I shake my head slowly, and he lets out a quiet "oh my god."

"I didn't even know this governor guy was him until I saw him. You're not mad, are you?" he shakes his head, letting my anxieties settle. "No..not mad, just...shocked, yo-you...wow."

Taglist

@rivversin @soul4death @silicone-bonez @nezukos-number1fan @jai-lovely @maziejay08 @oi-itse @rhaenryawhore @kimbunnysstuff @blipblopper @ramielll @ilyhannah @daryldixonnn @delicatebearpandaopera @daryldixmedown @duckybird101 @0-imjusthere-0 @tanuki-tsuki

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grpfrtharry · 7 months ago

Text

Still The One H.S.

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One shot!

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · . Summary : Mary goes out one night with her girlfriends to their local college bar when she runs into her now ex-boyfriend, Harry Styles. Alone on the balcony they talk about what went wrong and confess their true feelings for one another

-> 5.3k words

Warnings : this story is entirely fictional and contains Adult language, sexual scenes (smut), make up sex, intense arguments, drinking, smoking, etc... please read at your own risk

author's note: This one is long asf. I really hope you guys enjoy this ! this is my first one shot posted on here. This also is the first time I've published smut so... beware it might be super bad.

Tonight was the night everyone went out to the bars.Mary spent all her time doing her hair and makeup. Being a senior in college came with many challenges and the nights out with her girlfriends helped carried her through the harsh part of college. Being in pre-med came with many trials of difficult class curriculums. She was constantly stressing herself out, limiting nights out and skipping meals. She only just prayed that it'll all be worth it at the end. And now that graduation was around the corner, she finally could celebrate.

Ella had decided that they would go to a bar tonight. It'd be one of the last times that they would all be able to go to their college bar together before graduating. They were to all finally start on of the most important part of their lives and that was starting their careers that they spent the last four years working towards.

" I'm going to miss this so much," Ella sighed out while gluing on her lashes.

" I know, partying and being stupid drunk bitches," Mary replies back.

Ella and Mary had so many late night memories together. Ella was Mary's friend since freshman year. She was Mary's roommate since first semester of freshman year. They had been by each other's side all of the four years of college. Mary couldn't imagine what her four years would have been without Ella-- her twin-- her bestfriend.

" You know, what if he's there tonight?"

Mary looks up at Ella and shoots her a confused look, " What if who's there tonight?"

" You know, Harry. What if Harry is there tonight?" Ella shrugs beginning to put lipstick on.

Mary rolls her eyes, " Then he's there. It won't change anything."

Harry was Mary's now ex boyfriend. They had broken up over the summer and hadn't seen or spoken to each other since then. Occasionally, She'd see him on campus and avoid him. But overall, Mary went to the extent to keep Harry out of sight and out of mind. She couldn't sit hung up about their now past relationship.

" Would you ever get back together with him if time was right and you guys were on good terms?" Ella asks while taking a sip of her seltzer.

Mary shook her head, " I don't think so. I've gotten over it and he's for sure over it. I've been seen him with this new girl anyways. We're not going back."

Ella just slowly nodded. Mary could tell Ella didn't believe her but decided on ignoring her anyways.

When Ella and Mary had arrived to the bar, they met up with a couple of their other girlfriends who also had brought their boyfriends. They waited outside the line of the bar squealing and shouting to one another about how great the night was going to be. Mary was wearing a black tube top and denim shorts. She let her dark brown hair fall over her shoulders and layered gold jewelry around her neck. As they waited to enter the bar, all Mary could think about was what if Harry was here? Harry and her had always went to the bar together. She would remember how they would end the night at his place having the most drunken yet steamiest sex. Now he's probably doing everything they did with someone new.

The bouncer lets them in and immediately they make their way to the bar. First round was on Maddie's Boyfriend who had bought shots for the whole group.

" For my future doctor and wife, Maddie!" He cheers.

Everyone lifts their shot glass up and cheers on Maddie for getting in to med school.

Mary waves down a bartender and asks for another round of shots for her group. She also demanded for a Vodka Redbull . Ella then calls for them to hit the dance floor and dance to the music being played by the DJ. Mary hadn't had this much fun in so long. She was having time to enjoy herself and celebrate finally finishing her degree. Her arm was wrapped around her best friend Ella as they danced in the crowd. The whole night they shared laughs and took videos and pictures of each other being plastered drunk. Together they ran laps around the bar talking to different guys who had offered to buy them a shot . Mary came to realize how fun it was to be single. She could do whatever she wanted without having to worry or think about anyone else. All she had was herself to enjoy the night away.

Mary and Ella had been playing with each other and these two guys that they found at the bar. Mary could barely keep her balance but she still wanted to carry through the night. Her body was numb and her head hung dizzy. As she stumbled back she felt a cold drink splash onto her back and a glass hit the ground. Her eyes widen to her surprise and she quickly whipped around.

" Oh my god, I'm so sorry!!" She cried out immediately grabbing napkins from the counter. She was too busy trying to clean up this man black shirt that she didn't even realize who it was.

" I'll buy you a new shirt, I'm sorry again," she apologizes.

His hand then takes hers. It was warm and soft.

" Don't worry about it Mary," a familiar english voice spoke.

That's when her eyes widened and her eyes met his—his green emerald eyes. It felt almost like a reel of everything in the past rushing into her as she stood there frozen. It was him. It was Harry. She felt the whole room fall silent and herself grow small while staring up at him. He had nothing but a soft smile while looking down at her. She blinks back to reality and takes a step back. He had still been holding her hand in his while she pulled it back to herself.

" I-um. I gotta go," was all she said while turning around and pushing past people.

She found her way back to Ella who was laughing along with the two guys they were hanging out with. Ella noticed how frantic and anxious Mary had became as Mary began digging in her purse. She reassured the guys before walking to her friend who clearly wasn't okay.

" Mary are you okay?" She says putting an arm on Mary's shoulder.

Mary shook her head 'yes'.

" I just saw Harry," she blurts.

Ella's eyes widen and her mouth drops. She almost lets out this historical laugh. It was for sure that Harry would be at this bar. Harry had gone here on multiple occasions even when Him and Mary were together. But she still felt for her friend who was still suffering a broken-heart from their relationship. She recalled the nights where Mary wouldn't come out her room and how quiet and depressed she was over their breakup. It was so many stages of heartbreak she wished to never see her friend suffer in again.

" Mary, we can leave if you want," Ella softly said as she was rubbing circles around Mary's back.

" No, I'm coming back. I just need air. And then I'm coming back and we're going to go back and dance," Mary slurred her words while picking up her purse.

"Okay, I'll come with you," Ella said going to reach for her bag. But Mary stops her.

" No! Just stay here. I need a minute alone and I'll be right back," Mary says shouting through the music and crowd.

Ella nods hesitantly. She wasn't sure if she can trust Mary being alone. Especially after just watching her down a Martini.

" I'll be back, I promise." She says pulling Ella into a hug.

Mary pushes her way through the crowd and climbs up a couple steps to head the balconies on the second floor. Once opening the door she is met with the breeze that brushed upon her. She finally could breathe. She walks over to the ledge to look over the city. Boston was so beautiful at night. She begins to pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. But to her disappointment, she must have forgot her lighter back at her place.

" Fuck," she hisses to herself.

She goes digging in her purse once again. She didn't want to believe she left the lighter because she really just wanted to smoke. The night had gotten even more chaotic than she thought it would have.

" Thought you don't smoke," She hears the familiar voice speak again.

She stops digging in her purse. While rolling her eyes to herself she turns to face him once again. He was standing there, smoking a cigarette himself.

" I don't," she snaps.

He laughs as he makes his way over to her. She takes a step away to further the distance between them.

" Mary," He calls.

She doesn't look at him. Instead, she kept her gaze starting out into the city. Looking at him pained her. She remembered everything like it was yesterday. The day she watched his back turn and the door shut behind him. And he never came back.

" I'll light you one. It's just a small favor don't take it personally," he says handing her his lighter.

She looks down at his hand to see it was her old lighter. It had the initials H.S. On it. She wrote it on there for him. She sighs out and takes the lighter out of his hands. She held the cigarette in between her lips and begins to light it. And there she took the longest drag she could out of it.

She was in a much better mood now that she can relax and calm her nerves. Normally, she didn't smoke on a daily basis. She had quit after high school. She felt that she needed to better herself. But time after time she would smoke one just to settle her nerves. It would usually be after drinking all night which wasn't a regular occurrence.

" So, congratulations. I just want to say I'm proud of you," he says leaning over the rail looking over at her.

She kept her arms crossed and just shrugged instead of answering to his comment. Giving in would make her feel vulnerable— like she'd had given up on all the platforms she built for herself after she had healed from their past.

Harry understood it. He knew she was angry. He also knew how stubborn Mary was.

" Mary," he calls again.

She grumbled out loud turning over to him taking another drag while seeing the sight of her ex boyfriend.

" Stop, okay? Just finish your cigarette and carry on with the night," she barks.

He still approached her. Something inside his chest was burning and he was dying to let out whatever tension he had within himself. If he didn't tell her now he knew he would regret it like he did that night they broke up. He knew he messed up. He was the one to walk away and left her that night when he should have stayed and tried to work things out. He was always the one to a put up a fight and yet that night he felt short. And because of that, he dealt with days and months of not seeing her, touching her. He missed her more than anything and seeing her at the bar, hearing her say his name, he felt everything he had for her wash over him.

" Mary I miss you," he blurts.

She just shook her head staring ahead of of herself. She was still mad, he knew that. But now more than ever he wanted to fix things.

He walks over to her and grabs her shoulders whipping her around to face him. Her eyes widen and she threw her hands up and pushed him back from her. He hasn't seen her this physical.

" Don't fucking touch me Harry. You had your chance, now it's over. We're ov--"

" Don't--" he interrupts.

" Don't say that, please," his voice cracks.

" Then what do you want Harry? You left me. You were the one to call things off and now you're saying you miss me?" She scoffs before finishing off her cigarette. She tosses it to the ground and crushes it with her shoe.

" I know. I know I fucked up. I was drunk. I was stupid. I woke up the next day and realized how much I fucked up."

She doesn't say anything back. She was hugging herself as she bit her lip. And then she turned to face him as her eyes fell.

" Then why didn't come back?" was all she let out while staring at him waiting for an answer.

Harry knew he let his pride get the best of him. He knew in the end, he wanted to be with Mary more than anything yet he didn't go back because he was scared. He was scared she wouldn't take him back. And now it's been 6 months and he is far now too late to beg.

" I just thought you never wanted to see me again... like how you shouted it at me that night," he quietly answered.

They stood in silence letting the breeze brush past them. Mary just shook her head to herself, remembering the night it all ended: .　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　 .　 ✧ 　. 　 ˚ 　.　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　. 　

Harry had came in the apartment drunk after Mary had texted him that she was tired of his bullshit. Harry was apart of a frat and made little to no time for her. It was exam week and she and him had barely spoken because she would spend all her time studying while he spent nights out partying. She wanted to support Harry but there were too many times he left her in the dark or did things that made her question her trust with him. It was until she opened her snapchat. She saw on one of his friends videos that a girl had approached Harry and her arm was around him. It made her even more furious because it was Katie Woods. Not only was she apart of the sister frat but she was the bombshell of the school. Mary only felt inferior to her whenever she saw her talk to Harry. Katie always found a way to talk to Harry and push Mary out.

" Mary, it was nothing okay? She was just there at the party and we only talked for 30 seconds it wasn't anything serious," He slurs his words.

Mary had her arms folded as she stared at Harry in disbelief. She couldn't believe the first thing he didn't do was apologize.

" You know what, I'm done. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of you invalidating me about how she's all over you! And when there is a video of her arms wrapped around you, and you still want to deny it all!"

" Mary, I don't know how else to tell you that it's nothing. You're my girlfriend, you're the one I come home to every night, you're the one I want to be with," He sighs out reach his hands out to pull Mary close to him.

Instead, she just pushed his hands back and stood back. Her eyes were heavy with dark circles from hours of studying and staring at her laptop. Her hair was clipped up yet small strands hung loose. She was still in her pajamas from the previous night.

She turned and walked away with disappointment in her sigh. Where were they in their relationship? They were constantly arguing, he was falling short not coming to see her when she really wanted to. And when she went to go out and eat he was always late. What happened to them? She wanted to know where did everything start to fall apart?

" You don't believe me," he scoffs turning to face the other way threw his hands up to cup the back of his head.

" We've been together for nearly 3 years now, what makes you not trust me now?" He snaps.

Mary knew Harry was drunk but never has she ever seen him angry while drunk. Harry didn't often get angry around her. He always was composed and when they did argue he never rose his voice. But she can sense with this argument he was a lot more angrier then he ever had been.

" You never answer my calls," she says quietly. She felt like passing out.

" I'm not constantly sitting around. I don't have my phone and my laptop on me like you do at all times."

And this time, Mary too was losing patience. It takes one simple thing to ruin it all and she let Harry do multiple.

" You know what Harry, fuck you. Go back to your frat and this time you can go back without a girlfriend!" She barks.

That's when Harry's eyes widen at her response. He was very much even more provoked than he initially was. And Mary wanted to keep pushing him. She was tired of being the one who felt hurt, neglected, and always having to forgive Harry for his mistakes.

" I'm sick of this. You never even text to check on me. You give me the most simple dry responses. I'm so fucking stressed and tired and my boyfriend, someone I want to just simply acknowledge me can't because he doesn't want to take a simple 5 minute break to text his long-term girlfriend." She hissed.

" You know what, I'm sick of you always blaming me. It's always my fault when things don't go your fucking way Mary. It's not like I do this all the damn time. Most days, I'm with you! I do everything with you and I. always. choose. you." He shouted back.

Her hands were clenching her hair as if she were about to go insane. She was just going to go in circles with Harry because he was drunk and was more angry than he could think at the moment.

" You know what. Get out." She says pointing at the door.

" What?" He says tilting his head looking at her in disbelief.

" Get. out. I don't want to see you tonight." She grits through her teeth at him.

" No, I'm not fucking leaving," He protests.

" Harry I can't do this right now! you're fucking drunk, you reek of alcohol!"

" Holy shit Mary, fine you don't want to see me then that's fine," he says throwing his hands up in defeat and walking out the door.

As she hears his foot steps fade she hears a buzz. It was his phone that was on her dresser. She walks over to pick it up so that she can give him his phone. When the screen lit up it showed her the contact. It read Katie. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. She felt her eyes water and tears fall down her cheeks. Never in a million years did she suspect that Harry would cheat on her. But the messages she read proved her otherwise.

Katie: Where did you go?

Katie: She doesn't have to know.

Harry walks back into the room mid sentence about to grab his phone until he saw Mary's face.

" Babe, wh- what happened?" he says approaching her.

She throws his phone at him and begins shoving him out of her room.

" Get the fuck out. I can't believe you right now!" she cries out through her tears.

" Mary! Please calm down what the fuck happened?" He says picking up his phone as he held his hand out for her to stop.

" She's fucking text you? Asking where you are? What is it that I don't have to know Harry? "

Harry looks down dumbfounded by the messages. He knew what the text were for but Mary had already taken them personally and was far more angry than she already was.

" Mary, it's not what you think," he says trying to calm her down but she wouldn't budge.

" No, don't fucking touch me. Get the fuck out Harry."

She was now repeatedly pushing him to the door.

" Mary-"

" Get out Harry! I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear from you or see you ever again," she sobbed.

" You know what. fine! You won't see me again. We're done." he shouted at her before simply turning and walked out the door.

Mary just slumped to the ground and sobbed. Harry was gone. Harry left. She didn't know what to do. she didn't know what to feel. Her body was riddled with so many emotions that all she could do was cry out her pain.

After that night, Harry didn't call nor text her. She starred at her phone endlessly. She wanted to say something but in reality she shouldn't be pushing for Harry to reach out to her. Maybe he really meant what he said to her that night. And for days after this she just had to push through and heal from all of that night... .　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　 .　 ✧ 　. 　 ˚ 　.　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　 .　 ✧ 　.

Mary closed her eye to the thought of that night. That night was one of the biggest fights they had ever had. She remembered the days that came after it. She had a hard time sleeping and eating. She struggled to get through her classes. She hated being anywhere but her bedroom where she could hide away and sob her feelings out.

Harry recalled the days after the fight too. Each time he walked passed her building trying to build to courage to walk up and say he was sorry. But he couldn't. He didn't believe he could after what he did to her. He knew he treated her so unfairly. And that was apart of what held him back -- his guilt.

" I'm sorry," he suddenly blurts.

" I'm sorry for being so fucking stupid. You were going through a lot and I just downplayed it. I took everything for granted when I shouldn't have. I-I blew it. I ruined it all because I was being selfish," he says as he was now closer to her than he initially was.

She didn't back away, she just looked up at him.

" It's been six months and you're still the one," he continued.

" You're the one--"

He was suddenly cut off by Marys hands pulling his face down to kiss him. His hands naturally go to cup her cheeks as he deepened their kiss. It was as if it's been years and he had been craving to feel her lips again. He kissed her hungrily, tasting every bit of her that he had missed. And when they pulled away, he could see the tears in her eyes.

" And I should have told you I wanted you back," she says beginning to cry.

Harry didn't hesitate to pull her into his embrace. She cried into his chest while his chin rested on the top of her head. He held her tight, so tight that she wouldn't be able to push herself away. Harry wasn't going to lose her again. He wasn't going to let her leave. This night and from this day forward, he was going to put up a fight. Because in the end, he couldn't be without Mary. She was the love of his life.

Harry had brought Mary back to his place since he had moved out of his previous apartment with his frat roommates. He now had lived alone. Mary trailed behind him with their hands still interlocked. He couldn't help but to smile to himself. Mary smelled of perfume and alcohol but to him he was happy that she was out and enjoying herself. She looked a lot happier.

" So this is my flat. It's just me who lives here," He says holding his arm out to gesture to his living room.

Mary laughed, " I like it, it's so you."

There was a moment of silence while he stood grinning over at Mary. She was finally at his place. She was finally talking to him. He just had to get her back into his life.

" And I just need you in it," He smirks, pulling Mary into a long, passionate deep kiss.

Her arms go to wrap around his neck as she kissed him back. Slowly, they step into his bedroom not breaking their kiss. She dropped her bag on the ground. He tossed his coat to the side. She quickly took off her coat and he pulled the hair tie that held her hair up gently out. Soon they were back all over each other. Mary hadn't felt Harry's hands all over her in so long that she was getting slightly impatient. She pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the side. Harry was eyeing the black sheer lacy bra that she had on.

He picked her up and planted her onto of his dresser, leaving wet soft kisses from her neck, trialing down right above her most sensitive part. His hands pull the denim shorts down and he felt himself twitch the lacy black thong she had on. She sat there with her legs slightly parted, eyeing Harry as she waited for his next move.

He then stood in between her legs, and planted his lips onto hers as his hand went down to rub the thin cloth that separated her most vulnerable spot and his fingers. She lets out a deep moan into their kiss as Harry let his fingers play with her. For a second, she had to moan into the crevices of his neck as her hand went down to rub against his now harden bulge. He then wiggled his fingers in between her thong and let them slip into her, causing her to dip her head into his neck again and let out a cry. He went slowly in and out, kissing her on her neck, kissing her on her forehead and lips.

Mary can feel herself edge closer. She was going insane with how much she wanted Harry to ruin her. She so horny that she felt that she needed more than just his fingers inside of her. She wanted more. She wanted to be ruined with her makeup smeared everywhere. Inside her head she knew that no one else could make her feel the way Harry made her feel.

" Harry please," She's breathes.

" Please what baby?" He says while looking down at her while increasing the way his fingers flowed in and out of her.

" Please fuck me!" She cries out as her hands go to clutch onto his shoulder.

" Tell me how, how do you like it baby?" He smirks down at her as his fingers were nearly soaked at how wet she was for him.

" Like, like how you would bend me over and pound into me, I want- I want you to fuck me hard Harry," she struggles to say as she was feeling her body grow weak to his touch.

Harry pulled his fingers out and pulled her in for another kiss while unclipping her bra and tossing it to the ground. He eyes her first while watching how her hair fell right on top of her breast and hardened nipples. He then picked her up from the dresser and threw he onto his bed. He slowly goes to pull her lacy thong down exposing all of her to him. He crawls on top of her, beginning with a long passionate kiss to her lips and then trailing all the way down to her cl!t. He began to paint her with his tongue. To him, she tasted sweet like honey, sweet and sour like oranges. Mary felt this euphoric feeling travel up her as her hands were buried in his curly locks.

" Yes Harry! Just like that!" She moans out.

Harry pulls away, now unbuckling his belt and letting his pants fall to his ankles. He kicks them off before pulling down his boxers to reveal and long hardened cock.

He climbs over Mary and aligns himself at her entrance. And places a couple more kisses on her lips while rubbing the tip of his length in between her folds. And that's when he pushes himself in and Mary lets out a loud moan. Slowly he goes in and out, letting her adjust to him. They both were panting, breathing out hot breathes as he thrusted into her. Her hands were clenching his back as his strokes were slow but went in deep. Each thrust, she felt this high that made her bite her lip and moan out each time. Something that she never forgot about Harry was that his sex was pure ecstasy. She was feeling all kinds of highs whenever he fucked her.

Harry didn't quicken his pace and her eyes rolled back as she whimpered. He kept it slow and intimate all while planting long firm kisses on her lips and feeling the vibrations of her moans travel through him. Mary meant the most to him and he wanted her to feel that. Each thrust he poured all his love for Mary. Seeing her unveiled and watching her unfold under him, it made him feel at the top of the world. His hand rested on her hips when ever he would thrust harder just to hit the right spot. She was a moaning mess and he thought it was the hottest thing.

Together they were going to reach their highs. Her legs began to convulse and she was now shaking underneath him. He was letting out deep groans and raspy moans as he began to pound into her. The bed began to bang against the wall and Mary was letting out a high pitched whimper.

" Fuck, I'm going to cum," Harry growls

And once it finally hit, he felt himself collapse onto of her, slowly and sloppily thrusting into her. He kissed her and brushed her hair back as she came down for her high. He held her close until her body relaxed. And when they finally settled, he pulled out and got out of the bed to go to the bathroom.

Mary was still slumped and recovering from the intensity of her orgasm. But she watched Harry as he cleaned up and grabbed a towel. When he came back, he helped her wipe herself before getting back into the bed with her and pulling her to lay against his chest.

They laid in silence against each other as his hands brushed through her hair. He smiled at how messy it still was from their night of fun.

" Mary?" He called out.

" Mm," was all she replied back.

" That night Katie Texted, she texted me about her friend who she didn't want know that she was out that night. I was initially was suppose to give her and Damien a ride, they had been seeing each other. But I got the text and rushed over to you instead."

Mary looked at him, almost with guilt in her eyes. She knew she should have listened to Harry that night. They both should have listened to each other.

" But it doesn't matter, I didn't listen to what you had to say and how you felt. I was a shitty boyfriend and it was no wonder you thought that after the video. But just know Mary... I love you and I'd never do that to you."

She smiled and pulls him down to give him a kiss. She still loved Harry all this time. Even if she kept denying it she knew deep down she wouldn't have been able to push Harry away again.

" I quit the frat, I've focused on school, I got this internship at a publishing firm. I've changed Mary believe me. I changed in hopes that I'd see you and you'd come back..." he trails

Her hand goes to cup his cheek and leans in to peck his lips.

" We'll just have to start over and work things out," she simply replied.

He smiles and plants another kiss on her lips. They continued to make out, their hands cupping each other's cheeks.

" We going for round two?" she asks in between their kiss.

Harry pulls away laughing while putting her to have her sit on his lap.

" Will you be able to walk tomorrow?" He says interlocking their hands.

" I have nothing to do tomorrow, we can stay in bed all day," She grins.

Without hesitation he throws her down back on the bed and began to shower her with kisses.

" I'll be more gentle this time." he smirks.

From then on, the past was past. Living is to forget. Being able to forget is to learn. Harry and Mary took time to understand each other more and chose their priorities for one another. In the end, Harry was more than happy to be able to call Mary his girlfriend once again.

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