#before the end of the year. So I can say I finished the game twice in one year. Since I started playing on January 1st of this year.
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augh, I'm itching to play P:WotR but I'm stuck bc of a bug preventing me from progressing, so I'm just stuck waiting until the Gold Dragon patch drops and hopefully they'll fix the bug. (Owlcat is pretty damn responsive with bug fixes, so I'm hopeful, especially since I've seen other reports of the same bug, dating back to ~October.)
But I have no fucking clue what game to play in the meantime, especially since I've forbidden myself from buying any new games, since I always get steam giftcards for Christmas and my family gets peeved if I've already bought myself everything I really wanted. Plus I don't want to get sucked into another story-based game and get distracted and never finish this WotR save even after the patch.
Might go back to Old Reliable of Wildermyth, or maybe try and keep going with Rogue Waters, or even Shadow Gambit: The Cursed Crew... Too many options. But none of them are quite calling to me. Who knows, maybe I'll end up drowning in Islanders or Roots of Yggdrasil again instead, like I did over the summer.
#and I refuse to start another playthrough until I finish this one. But I really really hope the patch comes soon bc I wanna finish this save#before the end of the year. So I can say I finished the game twice in one year. Since I started playing on January 1st of this year.#but ugh the itch to play is so strong. 😭 Fingers crossed this patch comes asap.#morrigan.text#delete later
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6a088fd5da56ab9fcfec6c4cef52187f/ba910d2a034c444e-8d/s540x810/b459fd6806027d6812bea81118ecfda701b80673.jpg)
synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too
— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)
— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)
— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it��s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333
the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good.
you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left.
and then satoru wins.
you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead.
whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure.
and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware.
for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.
it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place.
he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it.
“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free.
“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”
“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”
“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair.
it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared.
it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.
you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on.
you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close.
“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”
“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”
“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”
“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”
your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper.
“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?”
suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for.
you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore.
“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down.
“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.
“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”
you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were.
but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself.
you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.
“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”
“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”
“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”
“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.
“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever.
i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.
“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.
he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”
it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why.
————————————————
even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought.
the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare.
you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature.
“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again.
as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face.
except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high.
it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath.
“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause.
and then you remember.
faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru.
it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have.
but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again.
“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh.
“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”
“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.
“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”
it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself.
“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close.
“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”
you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness.
when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night.
————————————————
“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans.
“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest.
it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room.
but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry.
“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.
“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”
“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”
“tell him to go fuck off.”
“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”
“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly.
you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not.
he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen.
you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast.
but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between.
so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”
“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace.
“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.
he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile.
“let’s go,” you hum.
“after you,” he mutters.
—
he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart.
suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.
it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.
as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name.
“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”
he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles.
for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away.
“what are you—”
“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment.
“what?”
“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”
“i’m not a teenager anymore—”
“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”
“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years.
“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”
so you do.
with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.
“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”
“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.
“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”
“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you.
“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”
suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru.
suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had.
something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.
but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him.
“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”
“me too,” he says quietly.
“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”
home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.
“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”
“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind.
his breath hitches.
she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror.
there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms.
perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened.
because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.
suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him.
“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance.
he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.
but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to.
but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention.
“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence.
every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them.
“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”
“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”
suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.
“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”
“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them.
but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.
————————————————
satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to.
you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down.
but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it.
satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself.
it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?
well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life.
it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).
it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in.
and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you.
it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin.
geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for.
so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you?
it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.
and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.
“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.
“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”
“about…?”
“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”
“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”
“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”
“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”
“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”
“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”
“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”
“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”
“what?” you blink.
“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”
“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”
“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it.
but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life?
good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him.
and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal.
ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score.
he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous.
“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”
“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”
“how lucky of you,” you snort.
—
picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good.
so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off.
“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”
“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”
“of all movies—”
“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”
“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”
“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”
all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think.
“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.
“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”
“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.
“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”
“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles.
suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it.
you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug.
“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”
suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed.
“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”
you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.
it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.
“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place.
in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.
it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.
————————————————
suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look.
“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”
“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”
“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch.
“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”
“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.
“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”
“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”
“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes.
sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this.
“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”
“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”
despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room.
suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.
“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”
there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook.
suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again.
he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.
“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind.
“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”
“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”
“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”
“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”
“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks.
it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.
deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.
it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left.
it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good.
you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence.
it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away.
“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.
“do what?”
“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”
“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”
“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.
“like what?” he raises a brow.
“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation.
he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.
“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”
you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.
of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too.
you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes.
“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”
“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.
fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too.
“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”
“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”
never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?
“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”
“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”
“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”
“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”
“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”
“i know—”
“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?”
“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”
“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.
“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever.
being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive.
“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.
“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”
you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.
“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.
he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy.
“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.
“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru.
“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little.
it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled.
“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”
“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”
“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises.
“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”
“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”
“yeah,” you breathe.
he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough.
you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink.
finally, for once, you’re enough.
“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”
“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”
“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”
“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.
he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering.
maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much.
in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.
“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum.
“because i need you here. will you stay?”
“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”
hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3
also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok
#teepods.writings#fics.#geto x reader#geto x you#geto fluff#geto angst#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk angst#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru angst#geto suguru fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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Hi! congrats for 700 followers!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 i love your fics and one shots <3
following the game… can i suggest Navy (ofc) Rabbit and if possible starfish too 🥺🥺🥺
Thank you 🫶🏼
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HI SORRY THIS TOOK A BILLION YEARS BUT GUESS WHAT IT'S DONE NOW :) thank you for your patience sweet friend
Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Female Reader
Trope/Prompt: Friends to Lovers x Body Worship
Summary: Law finds out you've never had an orgasm. A doctor treats a patients ailments. You get the idea. MINORS DNI
WC: 3100 hehe
TWs: inexperienced reader, alcohol consuption, fingering, oral sex f receiving, power dynamic kinda, smooth talking Law, body worship and praise, pet names, ugh it's porn.
Climax (+18)
——
Sure, the Heart Pirates weren’t the scariest or the biggest or the baddest pirate crew out there… but they were still pirates at the end of the day. The Heart Pirates could drink. Although Law himself didn’t indulge in as many rowdy evenings as the other members of his crew, he still enjoyed socializing with them. They were his crew, after all.
This particular evening, Law found himself bored of his work and decided to venture out from his office and into the common areas of the ship. Law shuffled tiredly towards the sound of glasses clinking and slurred voices talking over each other. He almost decides to turn back to his bedroom and try to get some shut eye. His back ached, the twinge in his muscles pleading with him to go to sleep, but he hears something else. Your lilted giggle floats through the metal halls of the submarine and straight into his ears. He wanted to at least see you before he went to bed… something sweet to think about as he fell asleep…
“Yeah, okay well you’re stupid, so.” You sip from your freshly cracked beer and roll your eyes at Shachi.
“Wow! What a good insult, y/n! You’re so fucking creative!” Shachi jeers at you with a big fake smile on his face. “I set you up, and you lost! You have to finish your drink, I don’t care that you just opened a new one!”
“Unless you want me to barf on your cards, probably not.” You chuckle.
“And I have seen her throw up. It is NOT cute.” Ikkaku pipes up. Ikkaku leans in and whispers purposefully loudly to Penguin. “Shes a scream-puker.”
“Okay so, I am not a scream-puker!” You defend yourself.
“Yeah, you are.”
Your head whips around towards the galley door. Law stands there leaning against the frame, looking exhausted, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for him.
“Last time you had the flu I thought we were under attack and sounded the Tang’s defensive alarm.” Law says as he smirks at you.
You pout and turn back to the table.
“Okay that one time… and I was really sick, you know!” You huff.
“Room for one more?” Law grabs a beer out of the fridge and sits down at the dining table without waiting for a response.
“Of course, Captain!” Ikkaku chimes in. “We were just telling Shachi he has to finally tell that girl from the last island to stop calling him.”
“She’s sooooo hot though! And she’s totally into me!” Shachi pleads his case.
“We will never see her again!” You interject.
“So? She doesn’t know that! And besides, the phone sex is better than nothing-”
“You’re having phone sex? Here? On my ship?” Law immediately butts in and cocks his head in confusion.
“… is that? Is that not cool? Did we have a rule about that or something?” Shachi questions.
“No.. it’s just vile, Shachi.” Law shakes his head.
“Hah! He thinks you’re fuckin’ gross!” Ikkaku points and laughs directly at Shachi who was making quite the face. You couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh whatever, I’ve been getting the best sleep of my life thanks to this! I’m like, almost twice as productive as I normally am!” He tries to build his case back up.
“Why?” You ask, curious what those things had to do with each other.
“What do you mean? Everyone knows how great the sleep is after you finish, am I wrong?”
“You are correct there.” Penguin adds, sipping his beer. Ikkaku hums in agreement.
“Hah, okay. Wouldn’t know.” You add softly, secretly hoping no one would hear you.
“What?” Ikkaku turns to you and asks.
“Nothing it’s just that I… wouldn’t…? Know..?” Really pleading with your eyes for her to read between the lines and you wouldn’t have to say it out loud yourself.
“Wait okay… you’ve never… had an orgasm?” Ikkaku’s eyes widen.
“Correct.” You take a deep breath. “At least I don’t think I have.” You feign a laugh.
“Oh you’d KNOW.” Shachi affirms from across the table, also staring at you with a bewildered expression. “Woah… that’s crazy. Are you a virgin or something?” He continues.
“No!” You defend yourself. “The guys I’ve been with just suck, apparently. Can we stop talking about this?” You knit your eyebrows together and rub your eyes.
“No way this is fascinating. How old are you? Twenty five? And you’ve never had an orgasm? Like never once? Even by yourself?” Ikkaku probes further.
“Oooookay guys I never miss a good time to shut the fuck up, so I am going to head to bed!” You stand up from the table and straighten out your boiler suit. You were met with pleas and apologies from your crew mates, while your captain remained stoic during the entire exchange. You felt his eyes burning a hole through you as you left the galley.
You swiftly make your way through the metal corridors of the ship towards your stateroom. You weren’t upset at your crew mates, it really was fascinating how you had made it this long in your life without feeling the peak of physical pleasure. It wasn’t for lack of trying, you had tried several times to pleasure yourself… and taken a small handful of lovers, none of whom could make you cum.
You slip off your boiler suit and let it fall to the floor in an off-white heap. You pick out some grey pajamas, a thin camisole and matching shorts, throw it on and sit on your bed to brush out your hair. You untie your hair from the thick bun on your head and let it cascade down your bare shoulders.
You had almost finished brushing our your locks when you notice the room has somehow changed… as if in the blink of an eye everything was sheathed in a faint blue glow. A familiar blue…
“Wait no!” You could barely yelp out before you ass meets a different surface in an instant. “Ah!” You gasp and open your eyes to see that you’re no longer in your own bed, but in Law’s. You blink rapidly for a few moments to try and regain your surroundings. You catch your breath.
You look up and see Law standing at the edge of his bed, looking at you with his shirt unbuttoned. Did he already have it unbuttoned when you were drinking… or did he take it off since then…?
“Gods, Law.” You sigh and shake your head. “You can’t keep doing that to people. You could have just called my snail or something.”
“Heard Shachi’s been keeping the line busy tonight.” Law looks down at your barely covered form on his bed. You push your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around them. He smirks. “So… is it true?” Law walks slowly around to the side of the bed, eyes never leaving yours. He was like an animal stalking its prey.
“T-the orgasm thing?! T-thats what you brought me here to talk about?!” You could feel your cheeks flush bright red. You sink your head further behind your legs. “I-it’s really not a big deal…” You turn your eyes down to avoid his gaze.
“You know, the human orgasm is really just a tool.” Law continues eyeing your body and ignoring what you had just said. “The reason it feels so good goes back to our earliest days of evolution. All living organisms, even plants, exist with one similar purpose in common. Do you know what that is, y/n?”
You pick your head up a bit from behind your knees.
“T-to… n-not get eaten by a larger thing?” You sputter out.
“Reproduction.” Law answers his own question. “Every creature is designed with a primal need to create more of itself…” He paces towards his nightstand and back before taking his massive sword off his back and setting it against the bedpost. “The male orgasm is necessary for human reproduction, obviously. But the female orgasm…” He trails off and you look up and lock eyes. “Is it a bit more complicated…”
“O-okay?”
“Some professionals say the spasming of the female reproductive organs during orgasm allows for easier penetration through the cervix for the ejaculate to pass through… and some say the female orgasm doesn’t even exist at all…”
“Are you seriously doctor-ing me about this?!?” You finally find your voice a bit stronger in your throat. “I’ve lived this long without it and-“
“I however, y/n, don’t care what the purpose of it is. And I do know it exists. And I plan on giving you at least one this evening.” Law says as he sheds his button down off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Tattoos on full display, his chiseled abdominal muscles right at your eye level paired with the topic of conversation made you press your legs together even harder.
“C-captain that is highly unnecessary and unprof-“ You try to protest shakily.
“Nonsense.” Law steps so his thighs are against the edge of the bed. His right hand comes up to drag two fingers up your calf and rest his palm on your knee. He rubbed soft circles onto your knee with his thumb. “Now if you’re done being so stubborn, we can get started.”
You leaned back on your elbows and blinked up at the man standing before you, your captain. You couldn’t believe this was really happening, but you were too stunned to question it. You trusted him with your life and more, why not let him try and help you?
“Alright.” You say softly, more to yourself than to Law.
“Good. Now take your clothes off.”
You cock your head back in surprise and your eyes widen.
“Getting straight to it I guess…” You chuckle nervously.
“We can go slower, if you’d like?” Law takes his hand off your leg, a genuine look of care in his grey eyes.
“No no! I-it’s fine! I just didn’t, you know… like… well I wasn’t really planning for anyone to see me naked tonight is all!” You say awkwardly.
“The only thing I care about tonight is pleasuring you. Will you let me?”
You don’t say anything in response, but you lift your thin grey camisole over your head and throw it to the floor. You didn’t look up to see Law’s response, you just shimmied your shorts down your legs and resumed your position laying on Law’s bed.
Fully bare in front of your captain, you could feel your cheeks become hotter than they’ve ever been.
“So what should-“ You begin.
“Fucking gorgeous.” Law interrupts.
“S-sorry?” You question.
“You are so fucking hot. So pretty.” Law was no longer staring into your eyes, but raking his gaze all over your naked body. “Spread your legs for me, yah?” Law asks, a bit more pleading than his normal demanding tone. It was like something shifted in him once you had taken your clothes off. He returns his hand to your knee, bringing his other hand as well this time to gently push your legs open to expose your sex to him. You hear him suck in a breath.
Suddenly, Law pounces on you. You’re knocked back on the bed further and your head hits the mattress. Law chuckles playfully above you as he supports himself on his hands, black shaggy hair falling towards your face.
“Hi.” He grins down at you.
“H-hi..” You manage to smile back. Law leans down further and begins placing wet kisses along your neck, craning your head to the side almost involuntarily. “O-oh okay.. t-that’s fine… AH!” You feel a cold hand pinch your left nipple.
“So sensitive… this is going to be easy..” You feel Law’s mouth curve into a smile as he litters more kisses on you, this time across your collarbone. He moves his head lower and captures your right nipple in his soft lips and sucks gently. You let out a long sigh and throw your head back against the mattress further. Quiet gasps left your mouth as he worked your chest in his hands and tongue.
Without fully realizing that Law’s hand had left your breast, you feel it cup your mound firmly without warning. You try to close your legs instinctively at the sudden contact.
“Ah ah, no y/n. You’ve been hiding this pretty thing from me for too long.” Law says as he pulls back from your chest. He pressed his fingers against the top of your slit and started rubbing it in circles. “I promise it’ll feel so good.”
Law leans up and places a gentle kiss on your parted mouth, you were too dazed to kiss him back just yet. He pulls away and settles himself on the floor on his knees in front of where you were laying. Strong arms hook under your knees and drag you swiftly so that your legs were hanging off the bed and your sex was mere inches from his hungry gaze and spit-slicked lips.
“Even more fucking beautiful than I’d imagined…” Law says as he spreads your pussy with his thumb and forefinger, exposing your throbbing clit and dripping hole to him. “So eager and ready for me…”
“Wait you imagi- SHIT!” You cry out as you feel Law’s hot tongue lap at your clit. It was so good, so thoughtful, so precise… he knew exactly what he was doing. “Oh my god-“ You had never received better head and he was only just getting started… maybe he was going to fulfill his promise. He alternative between suckling at your sensitive pearl and taking wide swaths over your whole sex with his entire mouth, as if he was trying to drink up every last drop your pussy was offering him.
“So sweet…” You could barely understand what Law was muttering about, he was so drunk off your essence that all you could really hear was pained moans and groans of “mmhmmpph” as he enjoyed your taste. Your back was arching off the bed and you grabbed at Law’s hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you as you wanted to make sure he kept going.
You moaned loudly as he slipped two fingers into your eager hole. He distracted you with harsh sucks to your clit as he crooked his fingers upwards inside of you.
“Wait fuck!” You cry out, feeling a foreign sensation as Law pulled on that spot inside your walls.
“Yeah there it is baby… there it is right there… let it happen…” Law cooed into your wetness as he continued to hammer into your sweet spot with his two fingers. He resumed his ministrations on your clit.
“Law! I can’t!” You gasp as that warmth and pressure in your lower half grew stronger and tighter.
“You can… get out of that pretty little head of yours, babe. Stop thinking and just let it go…”
You try to center yourself and clear your mind, eliminating all thoughts except for the feeling of Law’s hands and mouth on you. It wasn’t hard to do, his presence took over your every sense entirely… the heady smell of his cedar cologne, the absolute determined and lust-filled look in his eyes that were peeking up at you from between your legs, and the overwhelming feeling of his mouth lapping up your juices with fervor.
“I-I think… ah! Fuck!” Your shoulders lurch forward on their own, your walls starting to tighten sporadically around Law’s thick fingers.
“You’re so close, pretty girl… just a little more… squeeze those tits for me, yah?” Law asks before returning his mouth to your throbbing nub.
You do as you’re told and you wrap your manicured hands around your own breasts. You pull desperately at your nipples and cry out from the intense pleasure.
“Law!” You moan your captain’s name as tears prick the corners of your eyes from the sensation.
“Cum.” Law growls.
With a strangled scream, everything in your body released and your breath caught in your throat. Euphoric waves pulsed from your sex outwards and you felt the tears fall freely from your lash line as your legs shook. Your scream turned into a moan, and then fell into a whine as you suddenly felt too sensitive to have Law’s touch on you and you squirmed away.
You caught your breath after what could have been 30 seconds or 5 minutes and take a look between your legs. Law stared up at you, face and bangs soaked in some sort of liquid… your liquid… and a stupid grin plastered across his face.
“Holy fuck, I’m sorry I-“ You stutter out through heaving breaths.
“Don’t.” Law stops you. “Don’t apologize. That was so fucking hot. Didn’t peg you for a squirter. Nice.” He rubs his hands on your thighs as he stands up. Your face flushes impossibly redder. “How do you feel?” Law asks.
“I…” You flop your head back onto Law’s bed. “I feel like I got hit by a sea train but also incredibly light? My legs feel like pudding.” You sit back up on your elbows. “Law… captain… That was amazing…” You smile up at him.
“Good.” Law looks down at the mess you’ve made between your legs and on his comforter. He looks down at his chest and sees even more remnants of your release.
“How about we get cleaned up before bed and I can show you a few more things, yah? You’re staying with me tonight.” Law offers you a hand and you stand up on shaky legs to follow him to the bathroom.
“Hmmm maybe this time it can be your turn?” You glance down at Law’s obvious bulge straining against his spotted jeans. “I owe you one, right?” You smirk.
— —
>:)
#one piece#one piece fanfiction#one piece anime#one piece live action#one piece netflix#one piece fanart#one piece fandom#law x reader#one piece smut#trafalgar law#one piece trafalgar law#trafalgar d law#one piece law#law one piece#trafalgar law x reader#trafalgar one piece#trafalgar op#trafalgar d law x reader#trafalgardwaterlaw
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spill your guts or fill your guts
all i have to say is, i miss this man so much
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
When Harry told you that the Late Late Show asked him to do the 'Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts' segment with you as the guest, you didn't think twice before accepting the invitation.
However, as you sat in front of a table full of plates with bizarre and disgusting food, your boyfriend in front of you ready to ask you uncomfortable questions and cameras rolling catching your every reaction, you started to regret considering it in the first place.
"How are you feeling about this?" Harry asked when the cheers and applause died down, giving you his million dollar smile that made everyone drool over him.
"I can't believe I agreed to do this." You said shaking your head as you adjusted your top, giving a nervous smile to the audience.
Harry turned his head to the camera before speaking, "This is our first time, playing the game I mean," he smirked for a second, making the audience cheer and shake your head again, "And the last time we will do it also, right love?" and the blush didn't fail to appear in your cheeks at the pet name, because no matter how long you and Harry had been together, he could still make you blush like the first time.
"Right, indeed," you nodded your head, "Let's take a look at the food we have on the table."
"Okay so, we have Bug Trifle," Harry said and the audience instantly let out a collective sound of disgust, "Yeah ew," he mimicked making you laugh and he smiled slightly because your nerves were slowly fading away, "Jellyfish," the audience groaned again and Harry couldn't help himself before he mimicked them one more time "Yeah, ugh!" you laughed again as he continued naming the food for the game, that consisted in giant water scorpion, 1,000 year old eggnog, cow blood and pork tongue jelly, cod sperm, salmon smoothie and bull penis.
"So I'll ask the first question, the producers have not shown us these ahead of time, and before I choose the food you'll have to eat I want to say something," Harry paused to look at the camera for a minute before turning to you again, "I love you babe, I consider myself a good boyfriend, and I hope I'm still a good boyfriend after this," the audience erupted in cheers and howls, and the blush rushed into your cheeks again, "That being said, let's start with the 1,000 year old eggnog."
"Nooo!" you couldn't help but squeal when the food was placed in front of you, "You know I love you too but you might end up taking the couch tonight!" Harry chuckled and the audience laughed along with him, "Is the cinnamon supposed to make this any better?" you grabbed the cinnamon stick making a disgusted face at the drink.
"Give it a sniff." Harry spread his arms as it was the most obvious thing.
"Why?" you asked but sniffed the drink anyway, "Oh my god! That's disgusting!" Harry laughed and you felt the urge to throw up without even tasting it yet.
"Come on love, It's gonna be fine," Harry sent you a wink and you rolled your eyes with affection, "Ready?"
"No! But let's get this over with."
"Okay," Harry said as he grabbed the card to read the first question, and when he let out a devilish laugh you knew you were in for a ride, "You are great friends with the girls from BlackPink, you have been on tour together and released multiple collaborations, rank the members Jennie, Lisa, Jisoo and Rosé."
He finished the question and the audience erupted in screams and cheers, it was no secret that you and the BlackPink girls were the best of friends and they were dying to hear your answer.
You grabbed the cup and moved it close to your face scrunching your nose at the smell, "Hold on, I think I can answer it," Harry raised his brow and tilted his head at you before you continued, "I mean, I love all of them so much, and this doesn't mean I love any of them any less, It's just based on how close-"
"Drink the eggnog." Harry interrupted your rant making the audience laugh.
"Noooo!" you protested, refusing to drink the beverage, "Okay, it would be like, Jennie, Rosé, Jisoo and Lisa."
You said quickly and instantly covered your face in embarrassment, even thought the girls would understand that it's all part of the game.
"Whoo!" Harry said laughing and putting an amused face, "That was controversial, love."
"Oh shut up, It's your turn."
"Alright, now you choose something for me that I would have to eat."
"I'll do the sperm." you said turning the table to place the food in front of him.
"Okay."
"Here you go."
"Okay." he said again and the crowd laughed for a minute.
"Just so all you know, this is exactly how an argument between us looks like, me yelling like a maniac and him just saying okay," the audience laughed again and Harry just shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.
"Alright," you said before clearing your throat and grabbing the card with his question, "Oh I'm dying to know this," your smirked before continuing, "Which songs on your One Direction albums are about me?"
Harry instantly covered his eyes and started laughing at the question, over the years fans have speculated about songs by the band were about you, since Harry confirmed he had a crush on you ever since you were on tour together.
With the crowd cheering and your expectantly look on him, Harry grabbed the napkin that was on the table to put it on his neck and try to cut the cod sperm, "Sooo, I would say track number-"
"No! Answer it or eat it!" you interrupted him and he had no other choice but to grab a piece with the fork that instantly made him make a disgusted face.
"Just don't look at it."
"Oh yeah, that fixes everything. Just don't look at it!" Harry sassed at you, "What we doing?" he looked at the camera almost in disbelief.
"This was your idea! Now go," and with a final look at you, he put the cod sperm on his mouth and started chewing it, looking directly at the camera as he did it.
"Just swallow it, why do you keep chewing on it."
"To spit or to swallow, that is the question," and the crowd broke down in laughs again at his cheekiness as he spit the cod sperm on the bucket beside him, "Really carries an aftertaste, fancy a kiss, love?" he tried to stand up and you stopped him immediately.
"Nope! No kissing until we wash our mouths properly!"
"Okay so, I'll give you the salmon smoothie now."
And if Harry wasn't your boyfriend that you loved him so much and you weren't on live television, you swore you could murder him on the spot for giving you the food that you hated the most.
"Why are you doing this to me? You know I hate salmon."
"Come on love, I'm putting you up for a challenge," you rolled your eyes and he smiled before grabbing the card with your question, "Okay, you were part of Versace's newest campaign alongside some of the most popular supermodels in the world, who was the most unlikable out of all of them?"
"I have the answer. I can't say it, though," and without further notice, you grabbed the glass and took a big gulp of the salmon smoothie, feeling disgusted when the flavor hit your tongue and grabbing a glass of water to erase the aftertaste.
"Watching you drink that made me feel sick." Harry handed you his napkin and you wiped your mouth as you looked around the table to choose the next food for him.
"Okay, I'll give you the bug trifle," you grabbed the card with the question, "We have been dating for three years now, do you see yourself dating me for another three years?"
"That's easy, yes," he shrugged and the audience went nuts at his confession, and your cheeks were blushing again as your heart melted.
"You're such a sap, and on national television too!" you teased him and he srugged again.
"I'm just a boy who's in love, can you blame me?" The crowd awed and you rolled your eyes as you encouraged him to give you your next food.
"I think we're going to go with bull penis," he cheekily smiled for a moment, "Yeah, bull penis. You ready?"
"No, but you could go."
"It's just bull penis," he said as he grabbed the next card, and when he read what was on it he instantly let out a mischievous laugh that made you nervous about what was coming, "Okay, who is the most surprising celeb to ever slide into your DMs?"
"Who is he?" Harry yelled after a few minutes of silence from you and you laughed at his antics, "That's information I must know, babe."
"I feel like I can say it, right?"
"You're telling me who was it off camera anyway, so?"
"Shut up!" you paused for a moment to think about if you should whether or not reveal that the most surprising celebrity that tried to hit on you via Instagram was no other than Liam Payne, your boyfriend's former bandmate, even tho he knew that you and Harry were happily in a relationship and you couldn't be less interested.
"I think I'm eating the penis," deciding to be a nice person and not embarrass him on national television, you said and grabbed a piece of it to put in your mouth, "Oh my god! That was disgusting."
You grabbed the bucket beside you and threw the piece in as Harry laughed.
"Just so we're clear, however was that bloke, I hope you know she's taken, by me." Harry shrugged and gave the camera an innocent look.
"For your last question I'm giving you... the scorpion thing," you read his question and it was your turn to give him a devilish look, "Between Louis, Liam, Niall and Zayn rank their solo-"
And before you could even finish the question, Harry already had the giant scorpion on his mouth, making you, the audience on set and his thousands of fans watching at home scream and laugh.
He spat on the bucket after chewing for a minute, took a big gulp of water and wiped his mouth before turning to the camera to wrap up the segment.
"That was 'Spill your guts or fill your guts', we'll be right back with more of the Late Late Show!"
#harry styles#harry styles fake instagram#harry styles imagine#harry styles fluff#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurb#harry styles one shot#harry styles writing#harry styles x you#harry styles fic#harry styles au#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles headcanon#harry styles fake social media#harry styles fic rec#harrysfolklore#harry styles instagram concept#harry styles headcannon#harry styles fanfic#harry styles story
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I am so sorry for the person I will become in March. PEOPLE magazine released an excerpt from chapter one of Sunrise on the Reaping. Read below
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“Happy birthday, Haymitch!”
The upside of being born on reaping day is that you can sleep late on your birthday. It’s pretty much downhill from there. A day off school hardly compensates for the terror of the name drawing. Even if you survive that, nobody feels like having cake after watching two kids being hauled off to the Capitol for slaughter. I roll over and pull the sheet over my head.
“Happy birthday!” My 10-year-old brother, Sid, gives my shoulder a shake. “You said be your rooster. You said you wanted to get to the woods at daylight.”
It’s true. I’m hoping to finish my work before the ceremony so I can devote the afternoon to the two things I love best — wasting time and being with my girl, Lenore Dove. My ma makes indulging in either of these a challenge, since she regularly announces that no job is too hard or dirty or tricky for me, and even the poorest people can scrape up a few pennies to dump their misery on somebody else. But given the dual occasions of the day, I think she’ll allow for a bit of freedom as long as my work is done. It’s the Gamemakers who might ruin my plans.
“Haymitch!” wails Sid. “The sun’s coming up!”
“All right, all right. I’m up, too.” I roll straight off the mattress onto the floor and pull on a pair of shorts made from a government-issued flour sack. The words "courtesy of the Capitol" end up stamped across my butt. My ma wastes nothing. Widowed young when my pa died in a coal mine fire, she’s raised Sid and me by taking in laundry and making every bit of anything count. The hardwood ashes in the fire pit are saved for lye soap. Eggshells get ground up to fertilize the garden. Someday these shorts will be torn into strips and woven into a rug.
I finish dressing and toss Sid back in his bed, where he burrows right down in the patchwork quilt. In the kitchen, I grab a piece of corn bread, an upgrade for my birthday instead of the gritty, dark stuff made from the Capitol flour. Out back, my ma’s already stirring a steaming kettle of clothes with a stick, her muscles straining as she flips a pair of miner’s overalls. She’s only 35, but life’s sorrows have already cut lines into her face, like they do.
Ma catches sight of me in the doorway and wipes her brow. “Happy 16th. Sauce on the stove.”
“Thanks, Ma.” I find a saucepan of stewed plums and scoop some on my bread before I head out. I found these in the woods the other day, but it’s a nice surprise to have them all hot and sugared. “Need you to fill the cistern today,” Ma says as I pass.
We’ve got cold running water, only it comes out in a thin stream that would take an age to fill a bucket. There’s a special barrel of pure rainwater she charges extra for because the clothes come out softer, but she uses our well water for most of the laundry. What with pumping and hauling, filling the cistern’s a two-hour job even with Sid’s help.
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” I ask.
“I’m running low and I’ve got a mountain of wash to do,” she answers.
"This afternoon, then,” I say, trying to hide my frustration. If the reaping’s done by one, and assuming we’re not part of this year’s sacrifice, I can finish the water by three and still see Lenore Dove.
A blanket of mist wraps protectively around the worn, gray houses of the Seam. It would be soothing if it wasn’t for the scattered cries of children being chased in their dreams. In the last few weeks, as the Fiftieth Hunger Games has drawn closer, these sounds have become more frequent, much like the anxious thoughts I work hard to keep at bay. The second Quarter Quell. Twice as many kids. No point in worrying, I tell myself, there’s nothing you can do about it. Like two Hunger Games in one. No way to control the outcome of the reaping or what follows it. So don’t feed the nightmares. Don’t let yourself panic. Don’t give the Capitol that. They’ve taken enough already.
#the hunger games#thg#haymitch abernathy#IM SO EXCITED!?#haymitch would be a cancer#and on REAPING DAY#sunrise on the reaping
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Hi! Could you possibly do something with Eddie Diaz? Maybe his Tia sets you up on a date 🙏🏽
this one was so cute and fun to write 🙊 let me know if you'd want a part 2!
Dating in the 21st Century
wc: 831
Pepa Diaz has been your mom’s client for years now. No one gave manicures like her and Pepa had ended up becoming her best friend in the process. You'd even met Pepa once or twice at the salon, and the occasional lunch your mom dragged you to.
It wasn't uncommon for your mom to try to set you up, it had become somewhat of a ritual of you gently letting guys down and reporting back to your mom on everything that had gone wrong on the date. So when she came to you to tell you about Pepa’s nephew, you couldn't hold back the sigh that escaped you.
“Mama, that's very sweet of Pepa, but I don't know if I have another blind date in me,” you called over your shoulder while you finished mopping the front of the salon. You didn't work there full time anymore, but you still helped out where you could.
Your mom tsk’ed you and pinched your side, “Don't be so pessimistic! I wouldn't tell you about him if I didn't think it was a good idea. Pepa showed me pictures, he's very pretty, mija,” she wiggled her eyebrows and managed to pull a small smile out of you, “Just one date, yeah? You can leave early if you hate it, but promise me you’ll try. His name is Eddie, you'll love him.”
You never really could say no to your mom, ultimately. You cursed her internally while doing the finishing touches to your makeup and adjusting your sundress. With any luck, you wouldn't have to go through this whole routine again anytime soon. Maybe your mom would give you a break after this one. After a final glance in the mirror, you threw your bag over your shoulder and left to meet your date at a small cafe you'd agreed on earlier in the week.
You arrived to find Eddie waiting by the entrance in a cream, long sleeved shirt and dark wash jeans. In an effort to keep an open mind like you'd promised your mom, you let yourself admire the way his shirt tightened around his biceps. So Pepa wasn't lying, he was attractive. “Hi, Eddie right?” You smiled and held a hand out to shake his.
After introducing yourself, you both ordered a latte and a pastry before finding a table on the patio to sit in the sun. Eddie was a perfect gentleman, he paid for your drink, held your chair out for you, made sure the sun wasn't in your eyes. You felt a sudden relief and let yourself relax into your seat. “Your Tia is your biggest fan, by the way. Her and my mom wouldn't let me rest until I agreed to meet the 'most amazing young man in LA’,” you teased, grinning at Eddie over the rim of your mug.
Eddie blushed easily and you filed that away for later. “She's all talk. She's just getting tired of me being single,” he laughed and leaned back in his chair, “you'd think her full time job was setting me up on dates.” You let out a dramatic groan, “You too? My mom bought me a subscription to a dating app for my birthday last year!”
This made Eddie let out a shocked laugh and you noticed the way his eyes crinkled and you were already thinking of ways to get him to laugh more. You took turns telling first date horror stories and making each other laugh. Eddie was good at that, you found. You hadn't laughed like that in ages, not in a way that wasn't forced or awkward. Eddie told you about his son, showed you pictures, and the way you took in each one made Eddie’s heart leap with possibilities. Maybe his Tia was right, maybe you'd be good for him.
���I just feel like there's so much pressure to date, you know? I have to act a certain way, say the right things, it's exhausting. I just want to be myself,” you sighed and Eddie felt more secure than he had in years. He agreed wholeheartedly and you felt comfort in knowing that you were with someone who wasn't interested in putting on an act or playing some stupid game.
After another few hours and more shared pastries, Eddie walked you to your car. For the first time in what felt like forever, you didn't feel the need to come up with some lame excuse and you found yourself wishing the day was longer. You didn't have to ask if Eddie felt the same way, he pressed a careful kiss to your cheek and squeezed your hands in both of his own. “Can I see you again?” he whispered and you nodded, returning the kiss to his cheek, “Please.”
Your mom and Pepa spent their next appointment gossiping over your date, and the two dates after. And they were totally not smug about it, only saying ‘I told you so’ a reasonable four times.
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Plantheat (Vash x F!Reader)
Plot: About once a year Vash's heat rolls around and while he is worried about the position it puts you in, you enjoy all the positions.
Series: None (oneshot)
Pairing: Vash x F!Reader
Raiting: NSFW!! 18+!! R!! Explicit!! Minors DNI
Tags: no use of y/n, plantheat, rutting, pwp, smut, light BDSM, mention of breeding kink, cum kink ig, hand job, blowjob, p in v sex, joyous use of a couch, copious amount of... cum, rough sex, aphrodisiac, some spanking, blushing Vash → rutting Vash
Word count: 4.3k
Author's Note: If you know me or my other work... no you don't. Idk where this came from and it has already been revised... it was worse.
Vash has been avoiding your gaze all morning, generally curling up in bed and pulling the blanket over his head. He insists he is feeling sick, but you suspect it's something quite a bit different. You go along with his behavior, only giving him a peck on the cheek from behind before you get out of bed again.
"I will bring you something to eat; surely that will make you feel better," you say from the door.
"Thank you, love, but I am not hungry. I'll just go take a shower." His muffled voice sounds from underneath layers of fabric. This answer confirms your suspicions, and you leave for the kitchen. There are only a few reasons your man would refuse food, and being sick isn't one of them.
You eat your late breakfast as you see him slinking out of the bedroom and into the bathroom next door. He held a bundle of towels, and the sweet smell following him leaves no room for doubt about what is really going on. You take a deep whiff and lick your lips, savoring the scent. You can finish your plate and clean up in the time it takes him to shower. He usually refuses to waste that much water, but the grunts you hear through the door reveal he is doing more than just washing.
You bite your lip, wanting to go in there, but stop yourself. Every time he tries to hide his heat, and each time he fails, yet seeing him struggle with it in the beginning always amuses you. So instead, you settle in on the couch, where you have a great view of the bathroom door. From the suppressed noises, you assume he jerked himself off at least twice, surely hoping to put off the effects of his time of the year. You try to think back to the last time, and it seems like it hasn't been quite a year yet, but you aren't complaining. Vash might think he puts you in an awful position with his unquenchable need that arises during this time, but actually you quite enjoy all the positions you end up finding yourself in.
He finally exits the room, a large fluffy towel around his waist and a smaller one on his shoulders, catching the water droplets from his hair. His scarred and augmented chest is on full display, and you admire his broad shoulders. His body is a marvel to you, and even on a regular day, a sight like this makes your mouth water.
"Hello, my eyes are up here!" Vash tries to crack a joke, and one of his hands goes to scratch the back of his neck.
"I know. But I am not looking at them right now," you tease. "Come closer and let me get a better look. Do a spin while you're at it."
You see a reddish hue flush over his chest and neck while he walks closer to you. You can tell he's a bit nervous, but he obliges and does a slow turn, giving you a full view.
"Happy? I should go back to bed." He sounds very awkward, as he avoids looking straight at you and instead gazes at the bedroom door. With him came the same sweet smell as before, and it makes you painfully aware of the yearning in your belly, a desire to spread your legs right away. The smell alone is enough to turn you on, but tasting him would spell the end of your little game.
"Later. You took such a long shower; surely you feel a bit better now." You keep a careful eye on him as you speak. "You're all wet still; I'm surprised you're not shivering. Come here; I'll help you."
You reach out and tug gently on the towel wrapped around his waist. He obliges, but the blush is deepening on his face. He glances down at you as you place your hand on his stomach, wiping some droplets onto your thumb before sticking it in your mouth. You suck your finger dry and see his eyes widening.
"What? You used a lot of water; let's not waste any more." You say with a grin and pull him closer to run your lips over his skin, kissing away the wetness. You can feel his heart racing under your touch, and the maddening smell intensifies.
"Darling, I should..." A shudder runs through his body. "Go to bed."
"Don't you like it?" You run your tongue over the curves and valleys of his muscles, your hands firmly holding on to his hips.
"Oh, you know I do. It's just that…" He sounds breathless, and the crimson of his cheeks is accompanied by a pleading look in his eyes.
"You want to fuck my brains out." You finish his sentence with a smirk and pull away a bit to see him better.
"Yes. Yes, I do," he admits with a guilty look in his eyes.
"Why don't you?" You look at his face as his expression shifts from one microscopic emotion to the next. You don't actually need him to answer; you know his reasoning from the years before.
"I don't want you to feel used. I don't want to hurt you. I know it can get… intense," he swallows, and you pull the edge of his towel until it falls down. "And what if you get pregnant?"
"What if? Come on, daddy, don't worry about that." You say with a sultry voice, "Go on, give it your best shot."
"Don't say that," he exhales, and you can tell it gets harder and harder for him to keep his composure.
"Why not?" you smirk as your one hand wraps around his half flaccid cock, feeling it twitch at your touch. You let it slide through your loose grip until you reach the tip, your thumb rubbing against the sensitive spot, smearing the large glob of pre-cum that had already formed there.
"I can't resist you." He studders slightly and reaches out his hand to touch your cheek. "I want you. I want you so badly."
You feel a rush of desire wash over you as his words send shivers down your spine. You lean in closer to kiss his dry shaft, your fingers twisting just below the tip, causing him to let out a soft moan of pleasure.
"I'm right here," you say, barely pulling your lips away from his skin as you look up. "Use me. Any way you want. Any way you need."
He bites his lips hard, the redness not leaving his face as he meets your gaze. He watches you trace your lips along his length as your hand starts to move back and forth. Sloppier kisses leave plenty of spit behind for your hand to glide smoothly. As he is fully erect, the tip leaks with his arousal, providing plenty of lubrication. His eyes never leave yours as you continue to stroke him, his breath quickening with each movement. You are careful not to taste any of him, pulling away and instead adding your other hand to the mix.
His body leans back in pleasure as you increase the intensity. He arches his back and lets out a slight moan as he enjoys your touch. One hand strokes along the length while the other twists around the tip. He closes his eyes and loses himself in the sensation. The sweet smell of his aphrodisiac fills the air, and your whole body longs for it. You feel your own arousal growing stronger with each passing moment, the wetness collecting between your legs. You use your semi-clear head to tease him a bit longer; you know his quirks and know the best ways to build him up. You know exactly how to push his buttons and make him lose control, and with his especially short fuse today, you enjoy this while you can. His moans get louder and less guarded. It gives you massive satisfaction to hear him like that, seeing his muscles ripple as his body is overtaken by pleasure. He's putty in your hands, completely at your mercy. It does not take long to get him to his edge, only to lessen the stimulation and deny his orgasm. His eyes shoot at you again as you grin.
"Oh no, no, you don't get to simply torture me." Vash says, and there is an edge to his voice; the heat is taking him over, revealing his more primal and wild sides. "I won't let you have all the fun."
His left hand grips your jaw, and his right one grabs the back of your head, entangling his fingers in your hair as he pulls your head back. You can only guess that if you weren't still holding his cock tightly, he would have crashed into you for a fierce kiss, but this is not what happens. As you look up with your mouth pried open, he rolls his mouth and parts his lips to let some spit drip off the tip of his tongue. It lands on yours, and the aphrodisiac immediately fills your senses. You feel a surge of desire rush through your body. You want more. You need more.
He looks satisfied as your hungry gaze moves back on his dick. You feel ravenous for more and desperate to taste the sweetness again. Desperate to pull the pleasure from his body. You lick the fingers of one of your hands, savoring the remnants of his essence that still linger on your skin, but it is not enough. Sticking out our tongue, you place his tip on it, collecting the constantly leaking pre-cum that's a hint of what's still to come. You can't wait to have him inside you, filling you up completely, but for now, you want to taste him in the back of your throat. The desire grows, and the heat in your belly rises with each passing second. He has opened the floodgates, and you're sure you've soaked through more than just your underwear.
Hungrily, you start sucking on him while both your hands busy themselves with stimulating the rest of his cock. His hand, holding on to your hair, tightens, urging you on even as you gag on him. Your head is flooded with nothing but the desire to become his personal cum dump. The intensity of the moment consumes you, and you find yourself lost in the pleasure of submission. His moans of pleasure only fuel your own arousal, pushing you to go further and deeper, with noises of enjoyment escaping your lungs. In that moment, you surrender completely to the overwhelming sensation of being his willing plaything. You slide off the couch to kneel before him, ready to fulfill his every desire.
One of your hands goes to rub your pussy through your pants, but the friction is not nearly enough. You want him all over your body, but your own pleasure comes second. You're here to please him, to have him fill you to the brim.
His groans intensify as you rub his most sensitive spot against the slightly rougher texture of your tongue. Your hand still works on the length of his cock as you feel him twitch under your touch. You know he's close, and you're determined to make him come undone. As he reaches the peak of his pleasure, you can feel his body tense and his breath quicken. With a final, deliberate movement, you bring him to the edge and watch as he releases with a deep, guttural moan. Satisfaction washes over you as his cum fills your mouth, sending a new rush of desire over you. The sweet taste that fogs your senses and judgment is irresistible as you swallow; another wave comes as you squeeze every drop out of him.
You look pleadingly up at him as you lick the taste of him from your lips. You want more. You need to please him; all that is in your head is him. His body, his cock, his seed. You want to be completely consumed by him. You want him to ravage your skin. The thought can cross your mind as you feel him shift under your touch. He reaches down, sliding his hands under your arms and lifting you up off the ground effortlessly, like one would do with a child. As your feet touch the floor, he releases you only to wrap his arms around your body, keeping you upright even as your legs still adjust. He leans you backwards, his strong hand pressing on your lower back so you're flush with his stomach, and his lips capture yours. Adrenaline courses through your body the moment his tongue sweeps through your mouth, leaving more sweetness behind. You feel your heart racing faster. He breathes heavily into your mouth during the kiss, his hands gripping you tightly and possessively.
He takes a few steps forward, forcing you to stumble backwards, but you might as well have done nothing as he drags you to the edge of the couch, roughly turns you around, and bends you over the armrest. One hand presses on your back as if telling you to stay down. The other hand slides down between your legs to cup your clad sex, feeling the wetness seeping through the layers of fabric. You feel a surge of desire and anticipation; you need his touch like you need air. You stay with your face down in the couch cushion and your ass up even as he removes both of his hands.
"Good girl." His low voice praises you as you feel him take hold of the waist of your pants. He pulls them down slowly, feeling the resistance before your ass pops out. He swallows hard as his mouth waters at the sight, and he pushes the pants and underwear down to your ankles. He slaps you hard on your bare skin, leaving it red and tingling, making you yelp. You feel a rush of excitement as he leans in closer, his swollen cock pressed against your crack as he whispers close to your ear. "No time for pleasantries, Mayfly."
In a twisted way, he warned you to brace yourself for what was about to happen next. Quickly, he pulls away from you, and you feel his tip press against your entrance as he lines himself up. One of his long fingered hands grabs hold of your hip as he thrusts forward into your sopping pussy with no mercy. You cry out in pleasure and pain as he fills you. He wastes no time as he pulls back again and thrusts back in with even more force. Your legs tremble at the delicious pain of friction inside you as you still adjust to his girth. Your body arches in response to his relentless pace, feeling a mixture of pleasure and pain with every powerful thrust. As his fingers dig into the flesh of our hips, yours dig into the cushion beneath you.
His pace is intense and unyielding, driving you to the brink of ecstasy. Every breath escapes you with moans, even as your walls adjust to him. His long, hard strokes send waves of pleasure coursing through your body, overwhelming your senses with pure bliss. He lets out a few grunts through gritted teeth as your pleasures grow. The aphrodisiac he is constantly leaking makes everything tingle, while your sense of time and self slip away completely. All else disappears; it's just the overwhelming sensation in your cunt that travels up your belly as he rearranges your guts. Every touch and thrust is an exquisite torment that you never want to end.
Wild tremors of lust ripple through your being as Vash releases one of his hands only to grab hold of your hair and pull your head back, making you prop yourself up on your hands, your neck extended as far back as it goes. His blood is on fire while it courses through his veins, carrying the desperation of wanting to fill you up. His other hand, too, glides from your hip, sliding down the slope of your ass onto your back as he rams ferociously into you. Your pussy clenches around him, pulling him in deeper and deeper until he reaches his breaking point. With a groan, he releases himself inside of you, filling you with his hot cum. You feel the warmth spreading inside you, making you moan with pleasure. He keeps thrusting into you, showing no sign of slowing down, even as he makes you reach your climax, crying out his name in pleasure. Every impact he makes against your cervix pushes some of the hot, creamy liquid out of your body, making it drip over your folds.
He pulls on your hair harder, and the hand on your back wraps around to help you get up. You arch your back, sticking your ass out even as he pulls you close enough to kiss your neck. Vash whispers softly in your ear, "You're mine."
This only makes you ache more, even as the high of your first orgasm still lingers. You slip out one of your feet from the mess of pants to prop your knee on the armrest as Vash's throbbing cock continues to pound into you relentlessly. He has no cooldown period in his current state, continuing to drive you to the brink of pleasure and pain. The hand holding your hair moves down over your lower belly to your aching clit. His fingers brush over it with quick motions, filling the small room with even more wet sounds. The arm around you shifts up so his long fingers can wrap around your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure. The intense moans of pleasure escape you as choked cries. The next climax chases the last as you tremble in his grip, your fingers digging into the flesh of his right arm. The pleasure is overwhelming, as you barely perceive his own moans.
The satisfaction only lasts until the euphoria fades away, leaving you needing more. He pulls you closer, his cock in you as deep as it will go. He pauses his rutting for a moment, releasing your windpipe, and as you gasp for more air, he sticks the fingers of his other hand into your mouth, feeling the vibrations of your moans as you taste both of you on them, but mostly the overwhelming sweetness, sending you into a frenzy again.
You put both feet on the ground again, gripping his dick tighter as he sucks on your neck. You feel thick liquid dripping down your thighs. Your head is filled with thoughts of how to get him moving again as your tongue twirls around his fingers. You can't wait for him to come inside you again; that's all that matters. His free hand explores your body, tugging at your top as it passes over the fabric. You moan softly, your body arching in response to his touch, but as he reaches your thighs, he pulls away and out of you.
"This won't do." Vash takes a step to the left. The prosthesis pushes you forward a bit to bend again. "Spread your legs." He commands, and you comply. His fingers run up your inner thighs, sending shivers down your spine as he collects the cum leaking from your cunt. Vash fingers smear it on your pussy, pushing some back inside.
"I think you should just fill me up again." you say pleadingly, hands leaning on the armrest of the couch. "Please?"
You feel his wet hand run over your ass cheek before smacking it hard and squeezing it tight. You lick your lips again, missing the sweet taste of him, while your sex longs for him. Your breath is heavy as you wait for his answer.
"Tell me what you want." His voice is quiet but has an edge you don't usually hear. You feel a surge of desire coursing through your body as his lips brush your ear.
"I want you to take me. Use me, please. Do whatever you want; just please fill me with your cum. No, drown me in it. I'm begging you." Your voice gets whinier and weaker as you feel his hand explore your body. "Pin me down and fuck me."
"That's my girl," he growls in your ear before turning you around, ripping your shirt down the middle, and pulling it roughly off. His hands grab your waist, and you jump up, wrapping your legs around his middle. Your lips find his as you cup his face with your hands. The sweetness sweeps you away again, and your tongue explores the cavity of his mouth to find more. Vash carries you to the bedroom to continue having his way with you.
He throws you on the bed and wastes no time before climbing in after you. You look at him, your eyes trailing down his magnificent face and body to the still hard cock swaying between his legs, eager for more. His left hand captures your wrists as he pushes them to the bed above you. Vash's lips crash on yours again in a fiery kiss, causing your body to tingle with desire.
You spread your legs wide as he settles between them. His whole body pins you down, trapping you underneath him as his free hand helps his tip glide along your slick folds, teasing you with his touch before pushing into your depths. The sensation of being filled by him makes you moan in ecstasy against his lips, knowing that he is the only one who can make you feel this way.
His thrusts are shallow at first as he grinds his hip against yours. But soon he picks up the pace, filling you with each powerful thrust, rocking your whole body with each stroke. As the intensity builds, your breath becomes ragged. The room is filled with the sounds of your combined moans and the rhythmic slapping of wet skin on skin. You can feel the tension building within you, knowing that you are on the brink of an intense release. With each movement, he drives you closer to the edge, pushing you towards a climax that promises to be explosive. The pleasure is overwhelming, consuming every fiber of your being. Just when you think you can't take any more, the wave crashes over you, sending you spiraling into ecstasy. Your body shudders with pleasure as you ride out the intense climax. Loud cries escape your lungs as Vash pulls back, releasing your pinned hands to straighten up more.
He doesn't relent for a moment, continuing to pound into you with all the energy meant for turning a whole town into a sinful pleasure paradise. Your mind goes blank as you feel his hand push down on your lower belly, lost in the moment of pure ecstasy. Every touch, every movement sends you deeper into a state of euphoria that you never want to end. Your pussy clamps down around him, and Vash lets out a moan of satisfaction, increasing the speed at which he's ramming into you. It's enough to have him coming into you again, each thrust causing more of his seed to escape your cunt and drip down your crack. You shudder in pleasure as you feel him release, hands gripping the sheets beneath. You arch your back and moan loudly.
Time loses all meaning. It is just pleasure, and one orgasm chasing the other for both of you. It fills you with happiness each time he comes undone inside you. It fills you with a kind of satisfaction your own climax doesn't bring for long. As his releases become more and more frequent, to the point where there is barely any time where he isn't shooting you up, you are in a pleasure induced bliss. You feel like you are floating on a cloud of ecstasy. He has grabbed your hips to raise your lower half up off the bed to slam his dick into your cunt with more urgency than before. His cum, mixed with your own juices, drips down your back, forming a puddle underneath your ass as he continues to thrust deeply and passionately. You moan in pleasure, feeling another climax approach like a freight train. You try your best to roll your hips on his dick as he holds them tight off the bed. Your hands grab your breasts, pinching on the hard nipples. Your body feels exhausted but is fueled by the aphrodisiac still in your system. You crave it like a drug.
Vash grunts in satisfaction as he comes again, and the wave washing over you pushes you over the edge too, your walls contracting around him in a pulsing rhythm so hard while he pulls back that he pops out. You whimper as, instead of slamming back into you, the length of his cock slides over your clit while he cums. You shake as he makes no effort to correct his aim, instead allowing himself to enjoy the rough texture of your lower lips. Each thrust leaves you gasping for breath and covers you with another of his loads. Your stomach and chest are slick with his cum, and some makes its way onto your tongue, making your cunt gush again as you long for him. Your body trembles with pleasure as you eagerly anticipate the next round of passion. You suck on your finger as you taste him on it, and you feel happiness as all the seed meant for populating a town with his offspring is all yours.
Did you like this? Go check out my MASTERLIST (most of my other stuff is a lot more tame. Update: well, now there's an equally explicit Knives version of Plantheat too) and drop a follow for any and all future projects!
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MINESTREAM
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SYPNOSIS > Wanting to start a new stream series with his best friends, Jay had a bright idea of playing some simple Minecraft with them. Everything was normal, until he realises there is another person in the call with them. He quickly learns that it was ni-ki’s older sister, (name). Watch how streaming a simple game of Minecraft can dig up some interesting feelings between the main leads.
FIFTEEN – that man is a f*cking simp
MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT
a/n: i used papago for like the translation so please correct me if I’m wrong😭
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with the night wind blowing at your hair as you walked around with jay, you can’t help but closed your eyes. it was a nice walk at night. you had spent the afternoon with him at the cafe and talked a lot about a bunch of things.
you found out he liked a bunch of older songs, especially rock songs. he played the guitar and was trying to play more often. you also learnt he was decently fluent in Japanese, which surprised you.
“you know Japanese?” you say a little in shock and awe.
“yeah, I learnt it so that I didn’t have to keep staring at the subtitle and just actually concentrate on the anime I was watching. took a long time though but it was worth it at the end. i’m still learning more phrases.”
“that’s so cool!”
“ありがとうございます (thank you).” jay replies.
“you sound like a local. i’m impressed. did riki ever accidentally speak to you in Japanese?”
“he did. maybe once or twice. i understood what he said so it was fine.”
“well, you sound natural. maybe even better than me in Japanese.” you say.
jay laughs. his laughter was truly adorable. you couldn’t help but melt at it. it made you realise that being alone with jay made you feel super comfortable. due to your past experiences with disgusting guys in japan. you couldn’t stay alone with any guy without feeling unsafe. that of course did not include ni-ki, he was your brother after all, and heeseung.
and now, currently after having a heartfelt conversation at the cafe for a long time, the sun had set. you and jay were walking around the park and towards the campus grounds. there was a cyclist coming closer to the both of you so jay grabs your hand and pulls you to the side so you wouldn’t crash into the cyclist.
“oh. thank you, I didn’t realise there was someone.” you say. jay snorts.
“maybe, you shouldn’t aimlessly walk with your eyes closed.” he squeezes your hand since he was still holding it.
“I was enjoying my peace. the night feels cool and nice so why not, you know? besides, it’s the weekends tomorrow. I just need a small breather before I have to go back to sitting in my bedroom and painting.”
jay hums. the both of you continued to walk with your hands intertwined. neither of you minded and really remembered that jay’s hand was still interlocked with yours. in fact, it actually felt comfortable like it was meant to be.
was this fate?
right as those 3 words popped into your thoughts, jay’s phone rings. he answered it with his other hand still walking with you hand in hand. you had kept quiet, just listening in to his conversation with whoever it was.
“I’m doing fine. mmm, I’ll try to visit you guys during summer break. no. I don’t have a girlfriend.” it caught your attention. you knew jay was a good looking guy, tons of girls would’ve loved to talk to him so why doesn’t he have a girlfriend.
“mom, I know you’re worried about me. I can handle it. I’m only 22 this year. yes, I’m doing well in college as per usual.” he chuckles slightly. “I don’t want to go on a blind date, mom. I want to find my own girlfriend. someone that understands me and likes what I do.”
his eyes met with yours as he finishes his words. your heart stops. you nearly had a heart attack because why would jay just stare at you as he finishes his sentence. what did that mean? there is no way he likes you…right? it was too early! he can’t like you that way.
jay finishes up his call with his mom. he places his phone back in his pocket and turns to face you. “so what are you thinking of doing during our summer break?”
“mmm, I’m not sure. I haven’t thought about it. probably more streaming.”
“do you wanna stream with me? I probably wouldn’t go out much during the break.”
“I thought you were going to visit your parents?”
“I am but we could stream together after I visit them.”
“you aren’t staying for a week?”
“my parents are usually busy, they travel around a lot so they’ll probably fly out a day or two after I visit them.” jay explains. you hummed.
“me and riki would would definitely be free.”
“perfect. I could ask the others if they’d like to play too.”
finally, you had arrived in front of your dorm’s apartment building. unfortunately, jay lets go of your hand. the warmth was all gone and you already missed it.
“rest well and don’t overdo yourself. I know it’s tempting for you to just continue doing your artwork but you need to rest.”
“yes, jay. I know. I won’t overdo myself.”
“that’s my good girl.” he ruffles your hair. “well, I have to go. the boys probably would expect me to come back soon. they can’t survive without me. the dorm would’ve burnt down by now.” jay jokes.
you laughed, “alright. before you go, can I ask you something?”
“sure.”
“can we stream tomorrow?”
“of course.”
you had stepped forward and quickly left a peck on jay’s cheek before bolting in to your apartment building. jay holds the cheek that you had left a kiss on as he watches your figure growing smaller. a stupid smile adorning his face, he was smitten.
you had opened your front door after taking an elevator up to the floor. it slams shut as you entered it and laid your back against it. your heart racing quickly, the heat flaming against your cheeks.
“oneechan, what are you doing?” ni-ki appears at the hallway, his eyebrow raised as he looks at you in question.
“oh my god, I- riki, why are you walking so softly. when did you stand there?” you say as you were flustered.
“I was about to walk to the kitchen but I heard the front door slam. what happened?”
“nothing. just went out.”
“was there another stalker?” his voice sounding a little serious.
“oh, no no. no stalker, just umm i saw a flying cockroach outside.” you lied. the worry in ni-ki’s eyes dissipated, it was quickly replaced with fear.
“we really have to move. oneechan, I’m going to find us an apartment that’s better than here and is equally as near to school.”
“umm, we don’t have to.”
“I don’t care, I’m paying for the rent. you don’t need to worry.”
“riki!”
“consider this as a big early birthday present.” ni-ki skips over to you and pecks your cheek. “only the best for you big sis!”
you had to tiptoe to pat his head, “you have to stop spending money on me, riki. I can buy things on my own.”
“not until you get that streamer money.”
“well, can you really blame me for joining an art course because it’s my passion?”
“not at all, oneechan! you just have to not feel bad every time me and yvette noona want to pay something for you.”
“but I’ll owe you guys.” you pout.
“shhhh.” ni-ki grabs you and pushes you towards your bedroom door. “you don’t have to feel bad, I’ll do anything for you and any one of my friends! trust me, I’ll even ask sunoo hyung for house hunting advice.”
“is he even a reliable source-” ni-ki stops pushing you to your bedroom when you reach the middle of your room.
“he is a very reliable source. now, get some rest! I’ll find a house by the morning and then confirm stuff by next week. we’ll be in a new apartment in two weeks time.” ni-ki blows a kiss to you and shuts the door.
you sighed. ni-ki was an amazing younger brother and you love him to the moon and back. he’s a one of a kind brother, anyone would want him. however, you felt so burdened by the fact that you felt like you owe something to him. you knew he didn’t care if you paid back or not and he always treats you. it’s just the guilt creeping up on you.
you looked down at your phone and glanced at the lockscreen, it was a baby photo of ni-ki. everything you did was for him. your parents could always trust you with ni-ki and vice versa. with them running a company back in Japan, it was hard for them to come home. hence, you had to grow up for ni-ki. of course, your parents were grateful. they always brought both you and ni-ki out as a little treat. it wasn’t a surprise when ni-ki wanted to fly out to Seoul with you to go college. he’s a constant in your life and your parents knew that. hence, they didn’t say no to ni-ki and allowed him to take the same flight as you.
you had taken a shower quickly and changed into your pyjamas before deciding that you had to sleep. you had to continue up painting before streaming again tomorrow. just as you dried your hair and then threw yourself on the bed, you can’t help but remember what you did when you came home. you hid your face behind the pillows.
as for jay…
he was busy giggling and kicking his feet in his bedroom. jake and sunghoon were confused as to why jay was just mindlessly walking to his bedroom and then they heard a ‘girlish’ giggle from jay’s room. both jake and sunghoon looked at each other in shock.
“he’s gone insane.” sunghoon says. jake nods.
“didn’t he go out with (name) just now?” jake asks.
slowly the put the pieces together, sunghoon’s eyes widened. “we’ve truly lost him.”
“that man is a fucking simp.” both sunghoon and jake say at the same time.
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Daryl x Librarian Reader
Not long enough to be a one shot // Probably not short enough to be a Drabble
Hey! I just wanna say I do see your requests and I do plan on finishing ongoing fics and such but I have been grasping at straws for creativity. Writers block is kicking my butt on top of family events and adultly duties. Plz believe me when I say I check my inbox and drafts daily to see which one I can work with and I’m trying to get back on my game!
Summary: Recalling a short innocent fling Daryl had with a librarian when he was young. (Pre Apoc // Canon Universe)
Masterlist
Warnings:brief mention of sex, profanity
(fem!reader) (reader description: shy, reserved, bashful, long hair)
Later in his life, Daryl would be known for his stoic demeanor and heroic feats, but before all the destruction and societal collapse, Daryl was once young and exuberantly charming. Still, given his family ties, he had a reputation. His father was a well known drunken hothead and his brother was considered a local terrorist.
Daryl, though, was a fairly agreeable guy despite his habit of losing his temper. In the years before he started drifting around with Merle, he was had his share of innocent fun and sweet flings.
Perhaps one of his most memorable interests was a girl by the name of Y/N, who worked at the local library. Daryl had decided to get his GED that fall, in hopes of scoring a job at the local auto shop. The manager told him if he had a diploma or something like it, he had a job.
He spent a lot of time in the library trying to study, but of course he was distracted by the shy beauty spending hours on end organizing books. To most, there was nothing special about her. She dressed in browns and grays, her makeup was never anything to look twice at, and she was overall very reserved and bashful. Her eyes never lingered on anyone else’s for too long, her hair was always brushed out straight and tucked behind her ears.
So, it was of course a surprise to all when a small town bad boy took interest in her. It was subtle at first, but anyone who payed attention would have picked up on the flirtatious half smiles and the gentle brush of his fingers against hers when he passed her a book for checkout. He never missed an opportunity to ask her a simple question or make any kind of small talk.
She was a bit more subtle, though. Her language was quiet and soft, mostly speaking through avoidant eyes and chewed up lips. She squirmed under the pressures of his tactics and he ate that shit up.
He realized quickly that she’d never open up in her work environment. That would have been unprofessional, and she was a careful girl.
So, when he was ready to ask her out, he decided to approach her after work. He waited outside, chain smoking in his truck until the library closed. When she came out and locked up, he approached her casually and asked her out on a date to the bar. She wasn’t a drinker, which he figured, but it was a small town. It was either the bar or the lake, and the lake was a well known hookup spot. He thought asking her there might be disrespectful.
Despite her reservations, she said yes, and that might be picked her up at 8pm sharp. He had changed into his nicest jeans and his favorite button-up, and he even went out and got some cologne for the occasion. He was pleasantly surprised to see her step out of her front door in a cute dress. Her hair was done in waves, a contrast to her typical pin-straight mane, and even her makeup was a tad brighter.
He grinned warmly at her as she walked up, earning a cheeky blush in return.
“Ya look real cute.” He told her, stepping to the side and pulling the passenger door open wide. She chuckled awkwardly as she climbed in the seat, thanking him before he shut her in the truck.
The ride to the bar had gotten off to a quiet start. It was sort of an uncomfortable silence, but mostly because they were both unsure how to begin. Eventually, he passed her a kind smile as he turned a corner, and asked her how old she was.
“22. You?”
“24.” He answered.
“What made you want your GED?” She wondered.
“For a job.” He shrugged.
“Oh.” She nodded as they pulled up to the bar.
“Wait here.” He told her as he removed the keys from the ignition and rushed to open her for for her. A pleased smile crept over her features at his chivalry as he offered her a hand to step down. She accepted his help, and thanked him once more as he let her in the bar.
Music and chatter filled the air inside, and admittedly it was overwhelming at first. He glanced around for a good table and ushered her over when he found it.
“Get comfortable. I’ll go get us some drinks.” He said in her ear over the loud music. She set her bag down before she slid herself into the booth, and a few moments later Daryl returned with two mixed drinks. He handed her one as he sat across from her. “It’s a Long Island Iced Tea. They’re strong but they don’t taste bad.” He explained.
She took a small sip to evaluate the taste. She’d only ever really drank wine on occasion. He was right, though. The taste was okay.
He was also right about it being strong, because halfway through her glass and they were laughing at each other as they talked about whatever came up. She wasn’t typically so chatty, but she liked the buzz.
“Wow. I didn’t think I’d have this much fun at the bar.” She admitted at some point.
“Yeah, this stinky ass joint ain’t half bad.” he agreed. “Ya never been here?”
“No, I don’t drink much.” She shrugged.
“Y’ain’t missin’ that much. It’s good to habe fun without booze.”
“Hmm. I dunno.” She giggled. “I’m having a pretty good time.”
Silence fell between them as their eyes met. He smirked at the way her hands fidgeted with her glass. In the silence, their gazes spoke a thousand words. They had quite a few dates after that. Mostly to the bar, but occasionally a movie or a simple dinner at her place. They never slept together, but he didn’t mind it much. His experiences were usually drunken and blurry the next day. He also just enjoyed her company.
Things didn’t end on a bad note, either. She was only working through her final semester of college before she went and took a job in an elementary school library in another town. Daryl ended up getting his GED and a job at the auto shop.
Life went on, and she became a mere memory, but occasionally he thought of her and wondered if she was still around. She probably got married and had babies, he figured. Some kind of white-picket-fence lifestyle. Regardless, he was thankful for the good memories. He didn’t have many to look back on before the outbreak.
tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix @superbowlisgay @liizzygrant @eddiemunsonsupremecy
#daryl dixon#daryl x reader#twd daryl#the walking dead daryl#daryl x female reader#daryl twd#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl x you#daryl x y/n
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Shameless - chap. 1
Sukuna x Reader - MDNI!!
Summary: You didn't expect to end up under that guy you met on your weekend getaway, but you're glad you did.
Tags: reader-insert, pov second person, p in v, creamp/e, size k/nk, c/nnilingus
Posted on ao3 as a longfic
It’s at a hockey game that you first meet Sukuna Ryoumen.
Minnesota Wild versus Seattle Kraken. You’re a Seattle fan through and through, and you were lucky enough to be visiting your friend in the East the very weekend your favourite team was playing there. You bought tickets as soon as you realized the dates lined up.
Fast forward two weeks, and here you are. You’re donning your navy blue jersey, the one you got at your first Seattle game. Your friends, Shoko and Utahime, are getting seated to your left.
On your right is an adorable pink-haired little kid, probably around six or seven. He turns to say something to the guy next to him—possibly the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life.
He’s big. Like, at least twice your size, if not triple. His arms are crossed, and the flexed muscles show through his sweater—a deep green one. It matches the Minnesota hat he wears on top of his hair, the same shade of pink as the kid’s. He’s got interesting tattoos on his face.
Despite him being the enemy, you can’t stop your eyes from dragging up and down his body. He looks like he’s never smiled a day in his life, but when the kid taps his shoulder to talk to him, his face lights up. He answers with enthusiasm, and says something to make the little boy start giggling. Hot and good with kids? They don’t make them like this anymore.
You might be drooling, but luckily you’re saved when Shoko nudges you to wake you from your trance. “Whoa, dude. You were totally staring at that guy.”
“I was justified, though. Look at him!” You discreetly side-eye the mysterious man to your right. “Hot hockey dad? Sign me up!”
“He’s a Minnesota fan. Might as well give up now. What’re you gonna do when you drive back on Monday?” Shoko has a good point—but what’s the harm in a little hallway crush?
“He also might be married, if he’s got a kid,” says Utahime, taking a bite out of a comically large pretzel.
“I’ll check for a wedding band. D’you think I could find a way to talk to him?” You look over to see the man tickle the boy, making him erupt into contagious little-kid giggles.
Shoko sighs. “You’re something special, man. No, I don’t know how you’re gonna seduce a married father.”
“Not seduce, and potentially not married, either. God forbid I have a little hope, Sho.”
“I think that what Shoko is saying is to set your expectations very low,” Utahime tells you, very wisely. “If you talk, you talk, and if you don’t, you don’t. It’ll be weird if you try to force anything.”
Shoko nods in agreement. “Also, if you humiliate the shit out of yourself in front of him, we don’t know you.”
“Never seen you in our lives.” Utahime nibbles at her pretzel again.
“Thanks, guys. I love hearing how much you appreciate and value my company.”
“Knock ‘em dead, bro.”
The first goal is scored, and you cheer with the other Seattle fans. Hot Dad’s son stands up, too, jumping with you.
“Wrong team, Yuji,” he says. “We like the green ones.”
“Aww..” The boy—Yuji—pouts. “Why can’t I cheer for the blue ones?”
“Because that’s not our team. You live here, Yuji. Don’t you wanna support people from your own state?”
“Yeah, but you live in Seattle. Why don’t you like your city?”
He lives in Seattle?! And Yuji doesn’t live with him… Maybe he’s only an uncle?
“I do like my city, but I used to live here. I grew up with this team. I’m only in Seattle so I can go to school.”
He’s in university—you wonder if you’ll see him around? Probably not. Hot Uncle will most likely stay in your fantasies.
The game finishes before you know it. Nothing interesting happens—other than Seattle winning—for the rest of the weekend. Soon, it’s time for you to go back to your city and start the new school year.
Your first week is uneventful; it’s your second year, so you don’t need to go to all the networking events you forced yourself into attending last year. It’s just straight into lessons.
You heard about a few different parties, but you’d rather be there with at least a few people you know, and none of your friends were interested. Satoru mentioned that he wanted to host one, so you’d go to his, but that’s about it. This year, you’re mostly focused on your grades.
Well, that’s what you thought. All your ambitions fly out the window when a familiar tattooed face sits down next to you in your Sociology lesson.
“This might sound crazy,” he whispers. “But were you at a hockey game last weekend?”
Holy shit. He recognizes you?
“Uh, yeah. In Minnesota, right? I think we were sitting next to each other?”
“Mhm. I was with my brother, Yuji. I knew you looked familiar. Glad to know I’m not crazy.”
You chuckle. “If it wasn’t you, I’d be a little confused. Not many pink-haired powerlifters around here.”
He laughs. “Thanks—Oh, I can’t believe I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Sukuna Ryoumen.”
You tell him your name as well. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but is cut off by your professor beginning his lecture.
“Let’s talk later,” he mouths to you. You nod and smile to yourself.
About 30 minutes after your lecture, you have this strange feeling that you’re being followed.
“Hey,” a familiar voice calls behind you. You were right. The speaker quickens his pace to reach you. “What’s up?”
“Nice to see you again! I don’t have much going on, just heading to the library. You?”
Sukuna shrugs. “I’ve got a class in that direction at two. Otherwise I don’t have anything.”
“It’s one forty-five, you should probably get going. Oh, but do you have plans this evening?”
“Nah, I was just gonna watch TV or something. Why do you ask?”
“My friend Satoru is throwing a party tonight. It starts at ten, if you want to join us.”
“I’m down. Here, I’ll give you my number, so you can text me the address.” Sukuna pulls a random pen out of his pocket. He reaches for your hand and scribbles his number on it.
You laugh, ignoring the way your hand tingles where he touched it. “I’ll text you. See you tonight, hopefully?”
“See you tonight,” he agrees.
—
“Sukuna! You made it!” You wave over the giant who’s just entered the room. He towers over most of the people—he’s even taller than Satoru, and definitely bigger overall. Sukuna has the most muscle you’ve seen on a human. Something about his physique makes you want to climb him like a tree, but that’s an inside thought.
His gravelly voice brings you back to the present. “Yeah, I’m here. Do you know where I could get a drink?”
“Sure. Why don’t you come to the kitchen with me and I’ll grab you one?” You grab his (huge, veiny, rough, masculine) hand and drag him through the crowd.
Once you’re in the kitchen, Sukuna takes a seat on a stool at the counter. “What can I get for you, sir?”
He smiles and you almost collapse. But you persevere. “I’ll just get a beer, thanks.”
“Alright, then I guess I’ll have one too.” You pull two random longnecks from Satoru’s fridge . You try to look cool and open them using the counter, but of course, the caps go flying. You pick them up whilst trying to regain your dignity, ignoring Sukuna’s barely concealed snicker. “Something funny?” You ask, handing him his bottle.
“Nothing at all.” He grins at you again, and your knees start wobbling. But again, you persevere. You skirt around the counter and take a seat next to Sukuna, taking a long swig of your drink. You gag a little—it’s been too long since you last had beer, and you forgot how much of an acquired taste it is.
“So,” Sukuna starts. “Whose house is this again?”
“My friend Satoru. He’s, like, old money rich, so his parents got him this place when he started uni. Suguru lives with him, too. Satoru dated my friend Utahime—the one who lives in Minnesota—but they decided they were better friends. And also that they were both gay.”
“Ah. So are Satoru and Suguru…”
“Yep. I mean, I don’t think they’re official yet, but Suguru’s been into Satoru since we were kids. And they’re definitely fucking. Haven’t seen him in his own bedroom for months.”
“Oh.”
The two of you chat while you finish your beers. Sukuna actually makes great conversation. He’s funny, too. Hot and funny? He’s gotta be stupid, or something.
“Truth or dare!”
“Truth, I guess,” you sigh. Why did you agree to play this game in the first place? If you know one thing about your friends, it’s that they really hate seeing you comfortable.
Satoru’s grin makes your stomach churn. “If you had to fuck someone in this circle right now, who would it be?”
You glance around. Nanami, Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, Sukuna, and two girls whose names you don’t know. You only really have one option (not that you would have chosen anyone over him anyways). Your voice cracks slightly as you answer, “Sukuna.” Your cheeks flare as you feel his eyes on you, but you don’t have it in you to feel shame.
Two rounds later, it’s Sukuna’s turn.
Suguru asks the highly-anticipated question. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare.” His eyes are on you as he says it. You can feel them burning into your flesh.
“I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the circle.”
Sukuna’s eyes are still glued to you as he stands up. He doesn’t avert his gaze, not as he offers you his hand and brings you to your feet. Especially not as he slides his hand behind your neck, burying itself into your hair. He only stops looking at you when he closes his eyes and lifts your mouth to his.
It feels like everything you’ve ever dreamed of. His lips are shockingly soft, and they dance against yours so perfectly. Your mouth parts and his tongue slides in, caressing you so carefully yet so powerfully. It’s not long before you’re devouring each others’ faces.
Satoru clears his throat. “I love that you guys are happy, but respectfully, please get a room.”
The two of you pull apart quickly. You return to your respective seats and continue the game, but the vibe is a little different. Y’know, after you just sucked Sukuna’s tongue in front of five other people.
Nothing interesting happens for the rest of the game, other than Sukuna giving you sex eyes the whole time. As soon as you’re all finished, he steals you away from your conversation with Satoru.
“Hey. Satoru, right?” Sukuna’s hand slips around your waist. “Nice party. Unfortunately, I’m here to steal this one away from you.“ He places a kiss on the top of your head.
Satoru snorts. “She’s all yours. Oh, and all the rooms upstairs are fair game, just don’t get cream on my furniture.”
You blush furiously as Sukuna laughs. “Thanks, man.” He guides you towards the stairs and into a hallway.
“What was that?” you ask. “During the game, I mean.”
“Oh, you mean this?” He smirks, pulling your face up to meet his again. When your lips connect, you nearly decompose, melting into his touch. He’s gentler this time, more careful. One of his hands is behind your neck, threading through your hair, while the other pulls you in by your waist. You can feel his erection grow in between your bodies, and he’s big. You can’t help but imagine how it would feel—in your mouth, in your pussy…
You're breathless when you finally break away from the kiss, for multiple reasons.
“Y-Yeah, I mean that,” you squeak out.
Sukuna pulls you into a random, empty bedroom and shuts the door behind you.
His mouth meets yours yet again as he collapses with you on the bed. His lips pepper kisses along your neck , and he makes his way down your body. “Been wanting you since I met you,” he murmurs between pecks. “So fuckin’ small n’ delicate. Thinkin’ of you getting split apart on my fuckin’ cock.”
You shiver at the thought of it. Sukuna’s fat dick pounding into you. His hands bruising your waist as he fucks up into your tiny cunt. You picture him pumping you full with his cum, overflowing your pussy with his seed. “Please,” you whine. “Fuck me, Sukuna, I need it. I’ve needed it for so long…”
He nips at your collarbone. “Mm, gonna fuck you so good, baby. But first, I gotta get you all ready for me.” His hands run down your body, cupping your breasts through your shirt with a gentle squeeze. They trail down, all the way to your thighs. He flips your skirt up and massages the skin right next to your panties. He plants kisses on the insides of your legs, finishing with a quick peck of your clit through the fabric. Even the slightest sensation eases a moan out of you.
“Don’t tease me,” you cry. “I want you, please!”
“Wait, let me just grab a condom.” You deflate slightly as Sukuna pats down his pockets.
You weren’t going to suggest this, but it looks like you might have to, considering Sukuna is still patting away.
“I’m clean. If, y’know. If you’re comfortable with that.”
His eyes light up, but then he frowns. “I haven’t gotten tested in a while. I couldn’t put you at risk.”
You hate how responsible he is. “And no condom?”
“Nope. I’m sorry. I wanted this as bad as you do.” He really does look disappointed, and so does his boner. “I’d still eat your pussy, though, if you let me.”
“Fuck, please do. I want you so bad,” you sigh, thinking about your soaking pussy.
Sukuna groans. His rough hands grasp your thighs, pushing them apart, and he rubs a knuckle along the soaked fabric of your panties. Your cunt aches with need. Sukuna’s fingers leave your core, making you whine, but he makes up for it when he hooks his index into the waistband of your panties and tugs them down. Your pussy clenches when the cool air hits it. Sukuna presses close-mouthed kisses to the soft skin of your thighs, making his way towards where you need him the most.
He parts your sopping folds with two fingers, and his tongue darts out to lick a stripe up your cunt. You cry out in pleasure.
“F-fuck… hnngh…! M-more, more!” you whimper.
Sukuna continues lapping at your hole, while his hands take a bruising hold on your hips. You can feel yourself nearing your limit as he begins sucking at your swollen clit. You’re nearly screaming as your fingers find sanctuary in his hair, pulling at it as hard as you can. You think it can’t get any better, when Sukuna decides to push two fingers into your center.
“Fuck! Fuck, I’m coming, I’m coming…”
You’re pushed off the edge as Sukuna starts thrusting with his fingers. Your pussy clenches, your body convulsing as he continues his assault on your cunt. Your vision goes white, the only thing you can feel being his tongue and his fingers.
You recover from your orgasm, panting. Sukuna’s touch leaves your pussy, and you can feel your hole leaking. Sukuna collapses next to you, sucking your cum off his fingers. “You taste so fucking good, y’know that?” He grins as you blush. “Here, I’ll show you.”
He grabs you by the waist and pulls you on top of him, then brings his lips up to yours, encasing them in a kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, tangling itself with yours. The way his body feels pressing against yours is enough to satisfy you for a lifetime.
#smut#jjk#jjk x reader#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#jjk smut#ao3 fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#female reader#x reader#ao3#ao3 link#ao3 writer#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#ryoumen sukuna#rey rambling
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I can't stop thinking about that old grumpy man. Why do I like Swansea so much when I know I would hate it if an old man talked to me like how he talks to the crew.
Obviously there is the fact that he is the only one actually doing something against Jimmy which I gotta stan.
But more than that I find his story really touching and tragic in such a realistic way. The fact that he went through getting ride of an addication, being sober for multiple years, getting a steady job and building a family. All of this hardship to get somewhere in his life that should have bring him happiness and it just left him feeling unfulfilled. So much so that when looking back, the highlight of his life was his time passing out drunk on his couch with his only concern being the empty bottle in his hand.
More of my incoherents thoughts on why I love the old man below :
His situation happens because he took the path that was given to him by society without thinking twice since everything told him to do so, as we can see in one of the video on the Tv that shows capitalist propaganda of the perfect man, balanced between his job at the factory and his family. This is what was shown to him as how to achieve happiness, how to be a good man. So he started to work to get there and every achievements he reached, getting a jobs, a credit card, a family, which didn't bring him the feeling of fulfilment he has been promised. So he just thought that it wasn't enough and kept working toward the next goal because the clock is ticking. He never took the time to sit and think about his life because of that, or even to appreciate what he already had. To realise at the end, that he never once felt the content this life was supposed to bring him. This tie into the critics of late stage capitalism of the game because we can imagine that maybe he would have been happier if he didn't force himself into that mold after getting clean.
Next, I want to say that it's so unbelievably hard to get completly ride of an addiction all by your own ( which seems to be swansea case ) and the fact that for him it wasn't even worth it. The fact that for him in his last moments, getting ride his alcoholism was the wrong path because being an alcoholic is the only other option he ever known since he never had the time to consider that there was other options ( also maybe he would have never ended on this ship if he hadn't stop..). It's horrifying to me. I don’t think he has been living his whole life thinking that, maybe a thought here and there, but the fact that it's the fear of dying alone in some ditch that makes him take this turn in his life and that at the end he realise, after all of that, he'll still die alone in some shitty crashed spaceship, must be why this is his last thoughts.
To finish, there is the fact that Swansea is not a good guy, and he knows it, he acknowledged that he is still a drunkard at heart, that to some degree he prefer the carefreeness of being an alcoholic that having a loving family. Yet he still always try to do good things for other and put effort into it. He regret his drunk past and yet never get back to it because he knows people relay on him now, the devs even said that he celebrates his soberversary by buying himself expensive snickers. It shows that even if his heart say otherwise, he knows that this decision, at least, was the good one. The most telling example is how he wanted to give a way out to Daisuke by hiding the only working cryopods for him. The fact that the only regret he choose to voice on his death bed is not being able to save this "annoying kid" even though he has a whole life of regret before meting him. That he is willing to do the horrible but necessary act of putting Daisuke out of his misery himself while reassuring him when doing so.
And this is were his relationship with Daisuke is even more tragic to me because what he meant by Dai "could have a taught him a thing or two" is he could have taught him about enjoying the little things that you have in the present moment. Daisuke is described as someone who didn’t have anything going on for him, "no vision for the futur, no talent" but it didnt prevent him from having a blast learning something new, being helpful or just eating something sugery. Since Swansea strikes me as the "it's too late to change" type of person, I don't think he would do something drastic to change his lifestyle if he had the opportunity to do an introspection. This is why I think the kind of mindset Daisuke had, could have brought some peace to Swansea mind's in this late stage of his life.
anyway
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#tw addiction#mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#mangle rambles#this is crushing me#Addictions scares me and the idea of getting ride of one after years and finally reaching a life that on paper should make you happy#But you just feel empty even tho you did everything right#When you try to help people out of their addictions you tell them that they would feel and be better after without a doubt#but imagine if it's not the case
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coffee and basketball
pairing: kate martin x fem reader! 2022-2023 season!
warnings: fluff! friends to lovers trope!? small mention of drinking! mentions of anxiety/fear of love!
authors note: pls be gentle this is my first fic
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dec 5th 2022 ~ post iowa win against iowa state (dec 4th). score 70-57. kate martin with 13 points.
reader’s pov
the energy in iowa city was booming after last night’s win. i’ve been working at this coffee shop in iowa city since my freshman year of college and i’ve become accustomed to talking “game talk” my entire shift the day after a game, and if any of the players decide to stop in to do homework or for a quick drink, i sympathize as i watch them get trapped into nonstop conversations about basketball. iowa city is extremely proud of and cherishes our women’s basketball team, and quite frankly you never hear the end of it when you’re living here.
our coffee shop gets quite busy everyday, and my shift passes by with ease. as i’m finishing making the last order i took before clocking out, i see two familiar blondes walk in.
“hiiii!!! great game you guys!! your usuals today?”
“hey y/n thank you, yes please! how are you? when are you actually going to come to a game in person!” monika exclaimed. after working here for so long, we’ve developed a genuine friendship, sometimes catching up for a drink or just enjoying each other’s company in our apartments.
“i know, i know.. i promise i will before the season ends!” i laughed as i made their drinks. “kate, you did really good last night, i really wish i could’ve been there”.
i could see kate blushing out of the corner of my eye as I finished making their drinks, and monika nudging her. “y/n i am going to drag you to the next home game myself, kate always looks around and hopes you’re the-“ monika was interrupted by kate obnoxiously faking a cough attack. i laughed, blushing and handed them their drinks. as i handed kate her drink, our fingertips slightly touched and we made eye contact.
“in the meantime maybe we can go to open gym tonight? i can rebound for you and give you time to reenact some of your moves from the game for me” i said as i smiled up at kate with my eyebrows raised. although i was NOT short, yet kate disagrees, she was still 8 inches taller than me as I stood at 5’4. “we can meet at my apartment at 6 if you’re up for it”.
kate knew what i was doing. i knew what i was doing.
kate’s pov
my palms were immediately sweating. i looked down at her and honestly just forgot every single thing she’s said since i walked in because i cannot stop looking at her eyes and how well they compliment her dark hair, she just dyed it - i can tell. My eyes scan over her exposed tattoos on her arm and i quickly look back into her eyes so i don’t look like more of a creep than i already do.
“6pm is good. i’ll be there. at 6”, i tried playing it cool. she laughed, shaking her head and saying her quick goodbyes as she had to rush to her 2 o’clock class.
“you know you said 6 twice. i think she knew what time considering SHE asked YOU” monika explained while almost tumbling over laughing. “i mean kate, you should’ve seen your face. you two have been doing this for a year now. why have you not made a move on her? she’s clearly interested in you”
i sighed, “monika I don’t know. i really do like her but it’s just scary. i don’t know if i can commit to something, especially right now. basketball is our life and how will someone ever be able to fall in love with me if i can only see them for a few hours a week?” monika rubbed my shoulder and brought me in for a hug.
“just because you are a D1 athlete does not mean this is your entire life. you still deserve to have a life outside of basketball, and if anyone, she would be the most understanding” monika said, “you’ve got to make a move before she gives up. i know she’s into you kate. you deserve to feel and be loved”.
she really always was right.
we spent the rest of the day doing homework together and making lunch. as it got closer to 6, i could feel the knots in my stomach getting worse. luckily, we lived in the same apartment complex so it was a quick walk to her apartment.
5:55pm and i’m already at her door. is that too early? too desperate?
i knock a few times to let her know i’m here. i could just say i came early so i could see her cats
i looked down twiddling my thumbs, patiently waiting.
“coming!” i heard faintly from her apartment. she opened the door and quickly embraced me.
“kate hi! i just have to feed my cats before we leave so just come in for a minute” she said while frantically trying to feed her cats before they tried jumping into the food. i stepped into her apartment and patiently waited, laughing as her cats were jumping up her legs and meowing.
“you know, i’ve always been a dog person but i love your cats. they are just so adorable and have such a personality” i remarked.
“hah yeah, you can take them whenever. they are the best for cuddling but feeding them is still terrifying” she laughed.
she collected her bag, which i offered to hold, her water bottle and keys. we locked up her apartment and walked down to her car.
“midnights?” we asked in unison, both laughing after realizing we jinxed each other. i adore that she loves taylor swift almost as much as i do. i plugged in my phone to her aux and shuffled the album. as we started driving to our practice gym, i couldn’t help but steal glances at her, imagining what it would be like if we were more than friends, if i wasn’t so scared, i thought. i wouldn’t be afraid to hold her hand or her thigh while one of us drives. i wouldn’t be afraid to kiss her at every red light. i wouldn’t be afraid of love with her.
we pulled into the parking lot and i quickly grabbed both of our bags, and we made our way inside. no one had the practice gym booked for tonight, so it was just us. i put in my code to enter the gym, and we settled our stuff down.
“so.. what are we doing today coach kate” she smiled widely at me. i grinned and grabbed the rack of basketballs, pulling it next to the free throw line.
“well, let’s work on some free throw shots first”.
reader’s pov
after an hour of rebounding for kate and even taking some shots for myself, i decided to line myself up at the free throw line. i was never one to play sports, but i’ve always loved watching them. i’ve always been so jealous of people’s hand-eye coordination, as it never seemed to work for me which led to me burying myself in studies and clubs for years.
i try to fix my form like kate taught me, then launched it.
miss.
again, i grabbed another ball and launched it.
miss.
and again, and again. miss. miss. miss.
kate stifled a laugh watching me, and as i turned to glare at her she put her arms up in surrender.
“here, let me help you. we’ve already gone over this y/n, are you missing on purpose?” she questioned. i shook my head, my breath getting faster the closer she got to me. i faced the basket with the ball in my hands hoping to hide my blush.
“here, move over a little” kate said as she put her hands on my waist, moving me to the right a little. “now put your right hand here, and your left hand here” she said as she guided my hands from behind. all i could focus on was her breath on my neck and how close our bodies were without touching. “now shoot”
straight net.
“see! you can do it! but, can you guard me?” she questioned as she quickly knocked the new ball out of my hands, dribbling away from me.
“kate, of course i can guard you” i laughed chasing after her. we played 1 on 1 for a few minutes, her scoring on me multiple times and me not even able to keep the ball in my hands for more than a minute. as i jumped up to block her shot, i tumbled over her as we both fell to the ground. her arms were quick to grab my waist to ensure i fell on her instead of the hard wood court.
“kate!” i exclaimed laughing, “you could’ve hurt yourself and lisa would have actually hunted me down and killed me!”
we were both laughing as i rolled off of her and laid next to her on the ground. she turned over to look at me with a wide smile. we grabbed each other’s hands as we helped each other up, yet i stumbled into her again.
“a little clumsy tonight aren’t we?” she teased. her hands hesitant to continue holding my waist as we stood centimeters apart.
“i guess you just make me a little nervous” i confidently stated. our eyes stayed locked in for a minute, and for a split second i swore i saw her look at my lips, until she quickly pulled away almost breaking out in a sprint to our bags.
“we should get going, the janitors will be here soon to start locking up” she hurriedly said.
with a heavy sigh, i walked towards the exit grabbing my keys and water bottle as we made our way to the exit.
-
the car ride to the apartment complex was silent. i felt uneasy. is it me? is she just not into me? i thought. as i pulled in to my spot, kate offered to walk me back up to my apartment. the walk was long,
and silent. as i got to my door, i pulled out my key as fast as i could to unlock the door. “thank you for walking me kate, goodnight” i said as i tried rushing into my apartment. before i could shut my door, she put her hand out to hold it open”
“wait y/n,” she hesitated, “there’s been something i’ve been meaning to do for a while now”. kate strides towards me, reaching out to put one hand on my hip and one hand on my check, quickly pulling me up towards her and before i knew it, she kissed me.
she really kissed me.
her lips were soft. i could feel our smiles through the kiss and my heart nearly beating out of my chest, i wonder if she felt it too. kate pulled away first, looking down at me smiling, moving both hands to my cheeks.
“goodnight y/n” she said as she kissed my forehead. she backed away towards the door, and left before i could say a word.
i sheepishly slid my back down the cold wooden front door and made my way down to the floor. between the heat on my cheeks, tingling sensation on my lips, and the sound of my heartbeat thumping through my chest, nothing else in the world mattered in that moment. i delicately brought my finger to my lips, trying to relive the feeling through the sensations. my cheeks were hot and hurting. 'have I ever smiled this big in my life?', I thought. my legs slightly shaking as i slowly got up, making my way through my apartment to my bedroom. everything was bright even with all of my lights off. i sat down at my vanity, staring at myself in the mirror. through the slight shine of the exposed moonlight, i could see the red and pink flush all over my face. my phone buzzed in my sweater pocket.
i had a great time, the text read, see you tmrw for my usual? :)
i held the phone to my chest tightly, feeling the coldness of the screen through my clothes, but nothing else was cold. everything was warm because she kissed me.
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Post-epilogue Everlark family. Rated T for theme.
The phone in the bakery rings twice before Peeta hears Katniss start talking to whoever called up. Maybe an order for a birthday cake or a customer asking when they'd be closing. Only Katniss's voice gets more tense than usual, and then there's the slam of the receiver and the door from the back counter to the bakery swinging open.
"Peeta Mellark, go get your daughter," Katniss says. "She's in the principal's office for getting into a fight."
"A fight? Our girl?" She's always had her mother's spirit, but other than wrestling her brother, she'd never fought in her twelve years of life.
"Oh, don't get like that. She slapped another girl and started pulling her hair, everybody saw it. You're the one who wanted her, so you go down to the school and get her."
"All right, have a cookie and some tea while I'm gone," Peeta says. "I'll go ahead and sort this all out."
Down at the school, Peeta sits in the principal's office next to their daughter while the principals lays out what happened and that their daughter will go home early that day and have a one-day suspension the next, and then a week of detention when she gets back to school. The girl slouches with her arms folded, rolling her eyes whenever the principal talks about this "unprecedented act of violence."
But Peeta knows their girl. So he says, "Her mother and I will talk to her about this. Thank you."
The girl looks so much like her mother while walking out of the school, silent and scowling, that Peeta can't help but be amused, though mostly concerned. What made her act this way?
Once they're off school grounds, Peeta says, "Once you're ready to talk, we'll talk. But we have to do it before you go back to school."
"I'm not going back!" she says. "Not as long as Junie Macdonald goes there."
"You rather go work for Uncle Haymitch?" Peeta asks. "Because if you don't go to school, that's where you'll be heading instead."
Their daughter lets out a squeal of protest and stays quiet the rest of the way to the bakery. Peeta brings them around the back door so that he can go up front and talk to Katniss, let her know the deal he came to with their daughter. The time and tea must have calmed her down, because she nods, her glare toward the back room at a minimum.
They finish out the day at the bakery, go back home, and have dinner all without the girl saying anything. As they send the kids to bed, though, their daughter lingers back. Katniss and Peeta have curled themselves up on the couch as they do every night, ready to have a few moments alone, but the girl still stands there at the edge of the rug, nervous.
"Momma?" the girl says. "Were you ever in love with Representative Hawthorne?"
"Rep---baby, where did you hear anything about that?" Katniss asks.
"So it's true?" She asks, disgust and betrayal in her voice. "And you wanted to marry him instead of Daddy?"
"Now hold on just a minute there young lady." Katniss shakes her finger. "Where are you hearing these crazy rumors in the first place?"
"Junie Macdonald," the girl says. "She's been going on for weeks now about how her uncle knows Representative Hawthorne and that before your Games, the two of you were going together, only Daddy made the whole country think you were in love so you had to act like it and then you went so crazy at the end of the war, Hawthorne didn't want you and that's the only reason why you married Daddy."
While Katniss looks horrified, Peeta laughs. Throws his head back against the couch, wide-open and laughs, his belly tremoring against his wife's side. She gives him a smack.
"And just what about this is funny to you?" she asks.
"The fact that it's the same story I told myself when I was hijacked," Peeta says. "And now here people are, just as crazy as I was back then."
Katniss shakes her head, but starts smiling along with her husband. Really, people did believe the darnedest things. Nearly thirty years after the war and some little girl was still making up stories about them.
"So it's not true?" the girl asks. "It's like those bad memories you get, and it isn't real?"
"You already know Daddy and I had to act like we did in those videos they show in class. And that it took time for me to fall in love with him. Well, the whole truth of it is that I used to be friends with Gale Hawthorne and after the Games he told me he was in love with me. Only after the war, we had too many differences to even be friends. I'd never have married him, and I'd have always fallen in love with Daddy."
The girl's shoulders relax. Peeta asks, "Sweet pea, is that why you fought Junie? Because she was saying stuff about me and Momma?"
"I'm used to the talk about you two being crazy," she says. "But I couldn't stand her saying you two didn't love each other. That some other man was supposed to be my daddy."
"I can guarantee you, no other man would've ever been your daddy," Katniss says. "So don't you pay her any mind when you go back to school, all right? She's just trying to rile you up."
"She's always been jealous that I'm famous and everyone in Panem wants to know about me," the girl says with a haughty tilt of her chin. "Now she's making up lies!"
"You? Famous?" Katniss scoffs. "Daddy and I are famous. What you are is in trouble. You'll be getting up with Daddy to work at the bakery tomorrow, so get to bed."
Their daughter gives a groan and marches off to go up the stairs, but pauses halfway up to see her parents exchange a kiss and a pair of smiles. Junie Macdonald was jealous, and the girl decided she'd never listen to a word that idiot said again.
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So I have been reading Valfrey’s honour tier list over and thinking for a while about it. I considered doing it with Wolfbell since it is in fact supposed to be for the tourney contestants, but poor kid is both just a kid and also not finished her entire story. I feel as to judge her now when she has not yet come full circle and overcome her challenges would be unfair to her.
So we’re going to submit the bastard that is Flare Okarda. Who’s my current running oc to become the tourney participant in next year’s tournament (if there is one) and he has made it his personal goal to anger Valfrey as much as possible.
Valfrey of course belongs to @gethoce
For a quick summary of Flare’s character:
He is an original species called a pjofur, who through technological means have achieved ‘reincarnation’. A term used to describe a process in which the memories and personality of an individual are computerized and placed into an organic vessel in order to ‘bring someone back to life’, a process of which has long since robbed the species of their souls.
Flare is a rogue member of the pjofur society, formally known as Jokull, on his third reincarnation something happened and he developed a fatal logic error in his programming that caused him to descend into severe aggression and insanity.
Jokull eventually attacked his assigned romantic partner when she tried to check in on him, almost killing her. He stole a copy of the reincarnation equipment blueprint, deleted his all his backups, and fled the planet and became a fugitive, further descending into madness until he became someone else who couldn’t recognize himself as Jokull anymore, and this person named himself Flare after the intense feeling of being mentally burned alive he felt when he first lost control.
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One must live their life for a purpose such as serving a shogun or protecting one's people.
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Ah, purpose and servitude. Gross. Disgusting. Boo, even. Flare has a very rocky relationship with purpose and an even rockier time with the concept of serving someone or said purpose, stemming from his time as Jokull before being plagued by the fatal logic error.
Flare would admit his concept of both purpose and serving said purpose to be limited to one very far end of the spectrum, an extremism which has permanently spoiled his outlook on the overall concept making him unwilling to even try to accept there is other, kinder purposes and things to serve. All he can think about was that Jokull was always just intended to be an extension of Jakob. A trophy son and ticket to bragging rights. A cog in the machine only the machine sits in a glass box all shiny and squeak less and flawless.
That was what he had been brought into the world to do, and Jokull stripped himself of any and all individuality for it and denied himself anything that wasn’t serving the society. That was his purpose. His only purpose, for both of his reincarnations. Flare often says that Jokull played their game twice without a single selfish thought or complaint. And what good did it ever do him in the end? When the fatal logic error happened, all his fancy, glorious high end contributions to society did not buy him a single ticket of mercy and he was thrown into the fire.
Flare doesn’t want to be like him. He doesn’t want to ever be more fancy person calculator instead of a being. He’s not Jokull. He’s not the cog in the machine and wants no part of it. The society can rot for all he cares. He is going to live completely selfishly, he’s not going to bend to any one purpose, he’s going to have fun, and everyone else can kick rocks with their teeth.
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If left without a purpose one must make it their mission to find one.
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Flare’s commitment to having a purpose is equivalent to that to-do list you said you were going to make, and maybe you did but now it’s sitting somewhere in your workspace collecting dust.
He claims his purpose is to fuck around and find out, like how his prime goal with this is simply be the biggest disgrace to Valfrey’s honour code possible. To be free to do what he wants when he wants, ignoring he’s often at the mercy (of which there is none) of the fatal logic error that forces him to do things regardless if he actually wants to do them or not.
He is a force of destruction and chaos with no linear path or progression. His goals ever changing. For all his insistence that he does in fact have a purpose, he is stuck in place, making no true progress, hardly ever finishing the projects he starts before he loses track and jumps to something else, all while continuing his steady descent into further mental instability.
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Be the master of one's emotions, yet do not rob yourself of your whimsy for it’d poison your mind.
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Control is the last thing he has over his emotions. It’s like trying to control a tornado, or more accurately an intense electrical storm. He has severe emotional dysfunction, his thoughts and feelings and unyielding and uncontrollable torrent of lights and pulsing sounds that has no off switch.
He often describes his feelings as ‘you’re in a room and the lights are strobing and the speaker is on full volume and you have your hand in a bath of electrically charged water also the tag on the back of your shirt is itching you’.
Despite this, he often claims to be horribly bored and under stimulated. This leads him to being uncontrollably aggressive, and he will impulsively pursue experiences, no matter how unpleasant or risky they might be. Often this throws him into the path of combat, the aforementioned aggression Flare exhibits often unrivalled. These can manifest into unhinged outbursts known as flares.
Flare’s lack of control over how he feels stems back to the fatal logic error, which continuously misinforms the brain inside the vessel on how to manage chemicals and hormones, leading to disastrous outcomes and highly immoral decisions.
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Always be honest unless doing so risks the safety of those you swore to protect.
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Flare will lie without second thought if it will benefit him, Flare is rarely honest unless it’s to give his ‘honest opinion’ on you, and by that he means he’s going to insult the hell out of you. His one and only circumstance to always telling the truth is if you can get him to agree to a set of ‘game rules’ and make him join some game.
He’s not particularly sure why (he blames Jokull, as usual) but if he plays a game while he may not completely obey the rules, he will be completely and openly honest that he did in fact break the rules and a truthful explanation as to why he felt it was necessary to do so.
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Do not steal unless it is to protect.
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Flare steals about as easily as he tells lies and makes insults. You can bolt something down and that’s only a temporary solution especially if he decides he really wants that thing.
From stealing the copy of the reincarnation technology, to the player’s handbook he possesses (though he claims that he didn’t steal such he found it and while that’s technically true it wasn’t his to take) to arguably Jokull’s entire life and person, to the lives of several people, Flare has taken a lot. And he has really no intentions of stopping any time soon.
He’ll debate with you if stealing to protect himself from boredom or the brain itch of realllllllllly wanting that item is a valid loophole though!
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Do not sneak attack when a fair battle is possible.
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Flare isn’t necessarily one for sneak attacks, even if he has no issue employing them regardless of the ‘fairness’ of the battle. He often marches right up to his enemies, who, confused by his boldness that often falls into the range of being straight up suicidal, are rarely ready for him to launch into the levels of extreme aggression he is capable of, especially when he outwardly exhibits no means of causing notable levels of damage.
It truly depends on what the person has done to trigger his ire, but usually when such is triggered he will simply go straight into mauling whatever angered him, no warning and no declaration of battle. It is less a battle and more a vicious one sided attack resulting in murder.
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There is no honour in being outnumbered, use usually unfair tactics to even the playing field when the odds are stacked against you.
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The one and only rule of Valfrey’s that he can get behind. Flare often picks fights in which he’s at the disadvantage, causing him to employ surprisingly creative and effective tactics to gain an upper hand in a fight.
Flare’s primary tactic is to make combative use of his mind reading ability. By using such, he can see where his opponent will try to dodge to, allowing him to immediately turn his attack to that position, or get some kind of warning as to what his opponent(s) might have planned and counterattack. While he is unhinged and spontaneous, operating off the concept of ‘if I don’t know what I’m doing you sure as hell don’t’, he will briefly and with a surprising rate of success preform tactical actions based on what he gathers from his mind reading.
He is not afraid to fight dirty.
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Respect yourself, keep yourself healthy and well groomed.
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Respect is a concept Flare has very, very little of, much less respect for himself. Often at the whim of a self directed sadism, he will often cause himself harm or even cause his own death just for kicks and mental stimulation. Sometimes, death comes because he couldn’t be bothered to care for himself, he could tell you in graphic detail what the process of starving to death actually feels like.
He often looks like he has stuck his hand in a toaster, bags under his eyes are common, all too often some bone is fractured or broken and not being tended to, or some stab wound has been patched up in a messy hurry.
He insists there’s little reason to dedicate a lot of time and care to his vessel. It is replaceable and temporary. If he dies, or gets lethally hurt, he can simply make a new one. His attachment to himself, his vessel, even his identity, is held together by a few highly strained threads that might just snap at any second.
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Stay true to your principles.
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Hypocrisy is his middle name. Probably. Does his kind have middle names? He hates hypocrites. Maybe that’s one of the reasons he hates himself so much.
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Do not slaughter your own kin (members of your clan or similar concepts) unless they strike first.
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Oh look at that, one whole brownie point for him. He almost killed one of his kind, Jokull’s assigned partner, but he didn’t. And he’s not come in direct contact with any other members of his kind since.
But there’s not much stopping him from killing another member of his kind should they meet. They’ll probably just reincarnate anyways.
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Take vengeance on those who have wronged you or your kin.
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Oh he will. And he is. Not his kin, he doesn’t have any. But for himself absolutely. Kind of… Not really- he never has ever taken any kind of revenge on Jakob, or whoever it was who gave him the fatal logic error.
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Be polite and respectful to those who deserve it.
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For as smart as Flare is you could probably win a bet with him by telling him you’ll give him something if he can define two words of your choice, and if he needs to give you something.
And he’ll agree because he thinks you’re gonna pull out a word like pseudonym or tacenda, only you tell him to define politeness and respect and he just gives you a death glare instead.
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If one serves something like a clan or leader that disrespects them or otherwise goes against their principles the clan does no longer deserve to be named kin.
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….well, the queen can’t go against her principles of treating the society like a hive when she’s the one who set it up like that. And then Nightmare had no principles to begin with so can you REALLY break rules if they don’t even exist? But Flare would argue they’re both bitches so, maybe, that counts.
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Do not disrespect Valfrey.
Uhhh- Flare I don’t think that’s a good idea-
#kirby#hoshi no kirby#kirby right back at ya#kirby oc#art#kirby art#kirby au#kirby of the stars#digital artist#kirby wolfbell au#valfrey#flare okarda#others ocs#he’s about to get his ass beat
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summary: you're tired of your relatives asking you if you're still single every Christmas. on the spur of the moment, you lie that your have boyfriend. luckily, your best friend sweeps in like your knight in shining armor to save the day pairing: jin x reader genre: romcom with a lil angst, best friends to fake dating to lovers warnings: nosy annoying relatives, lying, fake dating trope, one bed mentioned, some crying, insecurities, confessions, kissing, it is quite mild tbh author's note: the title is super lame but hey, Jin likes dad jokes so here we go 🤷 also i intended to post this for his bday but didn't have enough time to finish it word count: 2.4k
Christmas is the loneliest time of the year for you. Even though you spend it with your relatives, they always make a point of asking whether you are still single. Spoiler alert: you are. It's gotten annoying that they don't appreciate you for your academic and personal achievements and they are only interested in your relationship status. You are so tired of the recurring question which is why you dread Christmas so much. A few weeks before it, you get a call from your parents.
"You're coming home for the holidays, right?"
"Of course, mom," you respond, rolling your eyes.
"So…have you found a special someone?"
There it is. Again. Ugh.
"If I hear this one more time…" you sigh.
"Got it," your mom chuckles condescendingly, which frustrates you to no end.
You don't know what spirit possesses you to do what you do next but the words are out of your mouth before you can think twice about it.
"I actually have a boyfriend but maybe if you weren't nagging me about it every Christmas, I would have told you earlier."
"You do?" your mom exclaims, surprise evident in her voice."Well, isn't that wonderful! You should bring him, introduce him into the family."
"He's really busy, mom, I don't think he'll make it," you keep lying, trying to get out of the situation you'd brought upon yourself.
"Nonsense, no one works on Christmas. I expect to see the happy couple soon. And no excuses!"
Before you could argue, your mom hangs up. Great. Now you have two weeks to magically find a boyfriend to bring home for the holidays.
You are sitting on your best friend's couch, playing games with him.
"Damn, you're so good at this!" you shout in fake annoyance at being defeated but you are actually happy for him. You know how much Jin loves winning.
"What can I say? I was born this way," he smirks confidently and puts the console on the table.
"Humble, as always," you tease him, nudging his shoulder.
"So, do you have any plans for Christmas?"
"Ugh, don't remind me."
"Why? I thought you loved Christmas movies and decorations and all things Christmas-related," Jin tells you and you are beyond touched to have someone who knows you that well and remembers such details.
"I do, but…I got myself in a bit of a predicament."
"Do share," he turns to the side so that he can face you.
"Well, you know how my relatives always ask whether I'm still single? And they're especially persistent around the holidays."
"I know," he laughs. "You've only complained about it like a hundred times."
"Sorry," you grimace at your own predisposition to torment your best friend everytime something goes wrong in your life. "So, um…this year I told my mom I have a boyfriend."
"And I learn about this now?" Jin puts a hand on his heart, expressing disappointment that you'd kept such a big secret from him.
"What? No, I don't have a boyfriend. I lied to my mom and now she expects me to bring a guy to meet the family."
"Oh, shit," he now understands why you're not looking forward to Christmas.
"Yep. I'm such a mess. Everyone will be so mad at me when I come home alone. Again. Kill me now."
"Well…you don't have to be alone."
"Huh?"
"Hear me out. What if I pretend to be your boyfriend? Just for the holidays. Then, your relatives would get off your back."
"Jin…I can't ask this of you."
"Good thing you're not asking. I came up with this brilliant idea myself. If it bothers you, you can tell them we broke up some time next year. Don't you want one Christmas of your relatives not repeating the same old annoying question?"
"I do want it, more than anything. But I would hate to inconvenience you…"
"Come on, it will be fun! My parents are spending this Christmas in Australia, drinking cocktails and soaking in the sun. It's not like I have anything special planned. It would be delightful to spend it with my best friend," Jin keeps talking and you are almost convinced.
"What about your best friend's super messy family?" you try to change his mind.
"Oh, I'm sure I'll charm the pants off them."
You are not worried about how your relatives will immediatelly fall in love with Jin. You are concerned that it will be you being charmed…
You are revising every small detail while Jin is driving his car to your grandparents' place.
"When did we start dating?" you ask him.
"Three months ago. We naturally realized that we are great friends and would make an even greater couple," he responds without hesitation. "How did I ask you out?"
"You told me I am the best thing that happened to you and I would make you the happiest man in the world if I went on a date with you," you reply naturally. "What was our first date like?"
"We went to watch a movie together, after that we had dinner at a lovely restaurant and I walked you to your apartment where I kissed you in front of the doorstep."
"The roses! You forgot to mention the roses!" you cry out, almost panicking. This has to be perfect or your snoopy relatives might suspect something.
"I was supposed to bring roses to your grandparents? I thought the wine would be enough," Jin mumbles in confusion.
"No, for the first date details! We agreed that you'd mention the roses. What if…what if they ask and we mess something up and…"
"Darling, relax. We've got this. We've been best friends for seven years. We know each other well enough to handle anything."
You try to ignore the way your heart flutters when he calls you darling. Damnit. When he'd suggested pretending, you hadn't thought about the fact that it wouldn't be pretending on your part.
"Do you trust me?" Jin asks.
"Unequivocally," you assure him. It is yourself you don't trust.
Once he parks the car, you are immediately greeted by a bunch of your relatives.
"Come, come! It is lovely to meet you," your mom welcomes Jin.
"Mom, this is my best friend," you say by force of habit and then correct yourself, "and now my boyfriend, Jin."
"Nice to meet you, ma'am," Jin shakes her hand politely.
"Pfft, call me by my name," your mom says and introduces herself.
Quickly enough, your poor bestie is hounded by your grandparents, your aunt, your cousin and her kids. It's a lot of excitement considering you'd just arrived and you are already looking forward to going to bed. You love your relatives but sometimes they can be…a lot.
Jin, however, seems to be thriving. He talks to your mom about cooking, to your grandparents about fishing and politics, to your aunt and cousin about acting and singing. Even the kids seem to love him, as he takes the time to play hide and seek with them. He also promises to build a snowman with them when it is warmer tomorrow. You have no reason to worry and yet, seeing him naturally fit in with them on their first meeting…when you have felt like an outsider your whole life, is enough to bring tears to your eyes. You excuse yourself from the table, saying you need to use the bathroom.
Not expecting anyone to notice your absence, you cry quietly in your room, feeling as if you have never been good enough and your relatives were always disappointed in you. You hear a soft knock on the door, which takes you by surprise.
"You alright, love?" Jin asks.
You let him in and he wraps you up in one of his warm hugs that have the magical ability to make you stop crying.
"What's wrong? I thought it was going well," he whispers, not wanting anyone to overhear.
"It's going splendidly," you agree. "It's just that…they love you more than they do me."
"That can't be true, you're the most precious granddaughter, niece and cousin anyone could possibly have."
You sniffle and look up at him.
"You only say that 'cause I'm your best friend," you try to make light out of the situation.
"Girlfriend," he corrects you with a wink.
"Right," you chuckle through the tears.
"Come on. Let's not give them the opportunity to discuss us behind our backs," Jin jokes and you decide to return to the table. He gives you the strength needed to face them again.
The Christmas holidays go by smoothly and in the blink of an eye. The days are filled with laughter, hot chocolate, yummy meals, wholesome Christmas movies, cozy socks and snowball fights with your cousin's kids. This might be the best Christmas you've ever had. You wonder if it's Jin's presence that made it so special and heartwarming. During the family dinners, he is the life of the party, always knowing the right thing to say to each and every one of your relatives. And when the two of you are alone, cuddled up in your room, he is your rock. You know you can count on him and tell him everything that has bothered you. And you know that he would understand you and comfort you like nobody else could.
Which is why it hurts so much when he is now driving you both back to the city. The pretense is over. You would no longer have an excuse to hold his hand or sleep in the same bed as him or kiss his cheek so openly. He is back to being your best friend. And perhaps that's the way it should be. You couldn't risk your friendship by doing something stupid like confessing your undying love for him. No, that would certainly be a terrible idea. Perhaps more terrible than having him as a fake boyfriend for the holidays.
"What's on your mind?" Jin asks.
"Hm?"
"I can see the gears turning in your head. Something is bothering you."
"Hey, aren't you supposed to look at the road instead of the gears in my head?" you tease him.
"I can multitask. Come on, just tell me."
"It's nothing. I just found myself wishing the Christmas holidays could last longer. I really had an amazing time, which doesn't usually happen around my relatives."
"Glad I could be of service," Jin smirks proudly, making you laugh. You would never grow tired of his casually confident nature.
Silence ensues for a couple of minutes and you are back to worrying and thinking about your unresolved feelings for your best friend. When suddenly, he interrupts your thought process with an unexpected suggestion.
"How about we have a second Christmas?"
"A second Christmas?" you repeat in confusion.
"My place. Just the two of us. We'll do all the things we didn't have the chance to do at your grandparents' house."
"Such as?" you inquire, wondering what you've missed.
"We'll play games and I'll make you my famous roast beef. We'll have midnight snacks and watch anime with no one judging us. We'll bake Christmas cookies together and we could even go ice-skating."
"That…sounds lovely. I'm in," you immediately agree, excited to have a second Christmas with Jin. Maybe, just maybe, a miracle will happen.
The next day, you arrive at his place and are amazed to find how magically decorated it is.
"Ta-da! Welcome to your own personal winter wonderland."
"My goodness, Jin, it looks incredible! How did you achieve all this so quickly and all by yourself? You must be exhausted."
"Nah, it was my pleasure. And besides, seeing the smile on your face is the best Christmas present I could hope for," he responds.
"Merry second Christmas to you, too," you grin and give him a hug. It feels so natural and like you were meant to end up right there.
As promised, the two of you get to do all the things you couldn't at your grandparents'. You watch the spiciest animes with zero shame, you eat ramen at 1am and you play violent games that would make your relatives gasp in horror. It is genuinely the most incredible Christmas. Even more incredible than the time you spent with your family.
But all good things inevitably come to an end. Tomorrow, it is time for both you and Jin to go back to work. And with that, the magical holidays will be over. You don't want them to be. You wish you could stay in this bubble forever, with Jin's arms wrapped around you.
"I should probably head home. You have to wake up early tomorrow."
"Or…you could stay. We can share the bed," Jin suggests and you can swear you hear a hopeful hint in his voice.
"Jin…we're no longer surrounded by my nosy relatives. You don't have to pretend it's okay with you to have me intruding on your personal space."
"Who said I was pretending?" he whispers and you probably shouldn't but you allow yourself to dream. There is no way he feels the same…or is there?
"Don't…don't say stuff like that if you don't mean it," you mumble, feeling more vulnerable than ever.
"I'm tired of hiding it, sweetheart," he sighs and presses his hand against your cheek. "I only offered the whole fake dating thing because I was hoping you would finally get the hint and realize how important you are to me. But in case it wasn't obvious enough, let me spell it out for you. I. Am. Crazy. About. You."
You blink in shock.
"Pinch me so I know I'm not dreaming. You…like me back?"
"How about I do something better?" Jin smiles softly and leans in to kiss you. It is slow and sweet, just as how you'd imagined it hundreds of times. No, scratch that. It is so much better. He makes you feel so special and loved. You wish you had confessed earlier. You have been missing out on so many Christmas kisses.
"Look up," Jin says gently once he finally breaks the kiss.
You do as he asks and you realize that you have somehow ended up under a mistletoe decoration he must have put up and you haven't noticed before.
"Aww, man, did you only kiss me because of that mistletoe?"
"Let me take you to my room and prove you otherwise," Jin vows, grabs your hand and urges you to follow his lead.
Christmas is truly the most wonderful time of the year.
The End
#bts#jin#jin x reader#jin fluff#bts fluff#seokjin x reader#bts fic#bts x reader#kim seokjin#seokjin#seokjin fluff#bts fanfic#jin fanfic#christmas fic#holiday fic#writing
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Millie Bright x Reader
Part Five: Lover’s Auction
Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, you and your girlfriend had become inseparable! Millie had asked you to be hers one evening in front of the TV, she had injured her knee and pulled out of the last national camp of the year; a blessing in disguise as you got a full week off together to have you her all to yourself. You’d barely left Millie’s house during the week and were preparing to watch her teammates play at Wembley against the Netherlands, snuggled up on the sofa you found yourself thankful that she was injured as it meant you didn’t have to sit outside for hours in the freezing cold. You loved watching her play but you definitely enjoy it more when the weather is nice! The TV was on with the commentators mumbling in the background while you scrambled around the kitchen fetching the snacks that your dad usually supplies when you heard Millie’s name mentioned – once, twice, three time in the space of 5 minutes. “Right, I’m making a game!” pulling out the wine from the fridge. “Every time you’re mentioned, I’m gonna drink!” you laughed, pouring yourself a large glass of rosé and taking three big gulps. “Me too then!” Millie snatched the bottle from your hands and leant over you to take a glass from the top of the cupboard. “Every time you act like the boss, I’m gonna drink!” she laughed sarcastically while giving you the side eye. It’s not a secret that you had become quite vocal during Millie’s games lately, sometimes she says that she can even hear you when on the pitch. “We’re gonna need another bottle then” muttering to yourself with wide eyes as you pulled another from the fridge and went to get comfy on the sofa.
Snuggled up ready for the game to start it didn’t take you long to become mouthy over the starting line up causing Millie to already finish her first glass. During the game she couldn’t keep her eyes off you - she had to keep an eye on when she should be drinking but more importantly, she couldn’t help but admire how far you’d come from when you first met. Millie found herself watching you more intently then the actual match and even when she was watching the TV, she kept looking out the corner of her eye whenever you jolted in frustration or excitement. “Why do you keep looking at me weirdo?” You’d noticed since the game started but waited until near the end to point it out, climbing over the cushions to plop yourselves onto her lap. Both bottles of wine were almost finished and your words had become a little slurred but not enough to be worried about a hangover in the morning. “I’m just in awe..” she shook her head in a way that suggested she didn’t believe what she was saying - that’s because she couldn’t. Your head tilted with examining eyes, eager to get her to talk more. “Of you! How far you’ve come! Four months ago if you told me we’d be here, drinking over how many opinions my girlfriend has on football I wouldn’t have believed it! I’m so proud of you!” she said, scooping your body into a giant bear hug. You stopped listening when you heard that word, you have no idea what was said after it! Peeling yourself out of her strong arms in shock, your eyes wide and barely able to blink made her worry. “What did you say?” you asked, wanting confirmation before making your next move. “I’m proud of you!” Millie was smiling ear to ear, she hadn’t even registered what she had said. “No, the other part..” you whispered cautiously, watching Millie’s eyes search the room as she racked her brain. You knew it had hit when her lips parted, she had realised what she said which sent a little wave of panic through her brain. “Is there something wrong that?” she chuckled nervously, “well it’s kinda tradition to ask first, no?” Realising she did actually want you to be her girlfriend and it wasn’t just an accidental slip suddenly gave you all the power to play with her. “Is it not obvious that I want you to be?” still trying to joke her way out of it. You shook your head in a slow and pent up way, you wanted her to say it properly, not accidentally. “(Y/f/n) will you be my girlfriend?” she asked, taking your smaller hands in hers. “No, actually I don’t think…” you watched the cheeky smile drop in worry for a split second before twigging that you were being purposely annoying. “Nothing would make me happier!” you came clean, launching yourself on top of her, clutching her face in your palms to confirm your answer with a kiss.
“Where are we going?” Millie asked excitedly from the passenger seat of the car, you’d arranged a surprise for your girl before you both have to go back to work. “You didn’t tell me last time, I’m not telling you this time” you teased, your hand settling on her thigh as you pulled away. Since meeting Millie something inside of you had awoken, it’s like the sadness in your soul from losing your mum had been overwritten by finding her - she was like a giant plaster for your heart, as corny as that sounds. As an heiress for your father’s company you were aware that you were more privileged than most people and wanted to share that with Millie in a way that she wouldn’t contest to. She never just lets you buy things for her.. which is nice in a way but you want to treat the girl you’re falling in love with and there’s still at least one thing she doesn’t know about you yet! As you pulled into an empty looking airfield her face was full of confusion wondering what was about to happen, she kept looking over at you for clues or guidance but your face wasn’t giving anything away just yet. She watched you be waved through the gates by a warden who called you Miss (y/l/n) which told her you were known to them and parked up on what seemed like a runway. Millie’s eyebrows furrowed as she turned to you looking for any sort of clue she could get, you smiled sweetly and got out of the car, walking round to open her door and offer your hand. “What’s.. happening?” she said apprehensively, glancing around at the empty field, “you’ll see” you remained coy and mysterious as you grabbed your coats out the boot and wrapped her arm round your shoulder.
You guided your girlfriend around to the back of a warehouse looking building where a row of helicopters came into view, “are you scared of flying?” you asked sheepishly, hoping to everything she’d say no. Thankfully she shook her head, “perfect” you smiled, tiptoeing to reach her lips. Leading her over to the closest helicopter you opened the door and helped her inside, Millie was silent for a while, wondering what the hell was happening and looked even more confused when you got in the pilot’s seat! “Now, I don’t do this for just anybody, so you better be a good passenger!” squeezing her thigh with reassurance as you leaned over her body to strap her into the seat. “You do know how to fly right?” she simpered a little with caution in her voice, you chuckled lightly at her question “I got my pilots license before I got my driving license!” flicking on all the right buttons and whirring up the propellor. Tapping your microphone you asked if she could hear you through her headphones, noticing she was biting her inner lip and looked apprehensive. “Do you trust me?” you interrupted her worried thoughts, the question making her breath out a big sigh. “With my life” she said quietly making this one of the only times you’ve ever heard her not be loud and excitable - you’re sure she will love it once you’re in the air! “Shall we?” you asked, desperately wanting to do this but didn’t want to push her into anything she didn’t want to do. You made sure to offer her the same courtesy that she had been showing you all these months with the thing that made you worried. “Yeah! Sorry, I’m just a bit in shock!” she laughed, seemingly snapping out of her funk, she just had to get over the hurdle of you being a pilot before she could fully immerse herself in the experience. You radioed into the tower to clear you for take off and raised your gear shift to lift you off the ground.
Before flying off towards your destination you had an idea of how to calm her nerves and circled over central London pointing out the spots she knows all too well from the ground – Big Ben, the London Eye, Buckingham Palace. It was such a clear night that you could even see the Wembley Arch in the distance. “Who are the men playing tonight?” you asked her through the headphones, “Man U, why?” she responded, “shall we take a look?” making a small detour towards Stamford Bridge, you’re not allowed to fly directly over the stadium but she could see enough from where you were. “Oh my god! This is so cool!” she screamed, making you turn down the volume a little as you watched her take photos out of the window. You hovered for a short period before turning around and headed off towards Southend again.
Landing at a busier airport than the one you left, there was a car waiting to take you to your next destination. As you walked towards it, Millie pulled you back, “sorry, can we just talk about what happened please?” still shocked at how you own a helicopter, you can fly the helicopter and that she’s just got from London to Southend in less than 20 minutes.. by you, her pilot.. in a helicopter! Your little adventure had earned b dathe exact reaction you were expecting and spoke about how learning to fly was a life goal when you were a child, you’ve always been fascinated by the sky – the sun, moon, planets, stars and seeing the world from above that getting your flying license was the first thing you wanted to do when you finished school. You don’t fly a lot nowadays and save it for special occasions or when the traffic is backed up, “it’s just quicker sometimes.. and more romantic! Tell me that wasn’t romantic!” winking as you opened the car door. “Of all the things I thought you may have planned for tonight, that certainly wasn’t one of them!” she laughed nervously, still in awe at how you pulled that off. You had booked your dad’s chauffeur to drive you to your next destination and as you pulled up, a nigh on empty field with a dozen young girls came into view. Millie knew exactly what it was when she looked out the window then snapped her neck to look back at you - you’d bought her to your old training ground. “Give me a sec okay” leaning over to kiss her before getting out of the car, leaving no time for questions. You left Millie there to come to terms with what was happening, watching out the window as you embraced the person she assumed was the coach.
“(Y/n)! I can’t believe you’re here, look at you!” the older lady gushed, “I didn’t know if you’d remember me Miss” you smiled, slightly emotional to be back in the place that bought you so much joy and sadness. “Oh please, call me Maggie!” swooping you into another giant hug. She understood why you stopped going all those years ago but the nostalgia warmed you inside like mum was hugging you too. Millie had awakened something that you’d tried hard to push down for 20 years, you used to love playing on this pitch, no matter how scrappy it was - it’s certainly had an upgrade since then but could still use some more work! Millie watched from the car as you pointed towards it, noticing the coach nodding before you came running back to her. “The girls have a game tonight, do you want to stay and watch?” you asked, holding out your hand to help her out of the car. “I’d honestly love nothing more” she said with a glint in her eye, knowing this was such a massive step for you. Millie had been keen not to push your boundaries when it came to talking about football but was so happy to be part of this journey with you, you held her coat open as she slipped her arms through and lead her into the town hall that backed onto the field.
Gathering in the small hall with a few parents you collected some hot drinks from the counter and wandered around looking at the photo clad walls. You skimmed from black and white photos to beige, faded to brightly coloured newer ones. Millie joined you with some raffle tickets they were selling to raise money for a new lawn mower, passing you a couple of strips then draped her arms around your neck as she stood behind. “That’s me” you said with a quiver, pointing at the faded and fuzzy 90s photo hung up on the wall. Proudly standing tall with your chest puffed out in the middle of a team photo from 1999. “Nice hair” Millie nudged you, knocking the tears welling in your eyes away as you snickered at the bowl haircut, “that’s so I could play with the boys too” you laughed, sinking back into her as she tightened her grip around you. “I bet little (y/n) didn’t expect to see you back here” she said quietly as her chin rested onto your shoulder. “Is that your mum?” pointing at the photo next to the team, you nodded gently. “You look so alike” Millie kissed the top of your head, “she used to call me her mini me” reaching out to stroke your mum’s beautiful face. “And is that a player of the match award?” she said a bit louder, knowing she had to keep talking so you didn’t fall into sad hole. You leant closer, squinting at the framed newspaper article –
Goalkeeper (y/f/n) saves the day for Southend Girls once again!
Southend Girls were playing Billericay Juniors tonight and they’ve been on a bit of a losing streak, you’d hoped maybe they would be inspired by meeting a real life Lioness, just like you were all those years ago. “You don’t mind do you?” you wondered if maybe you’d overstepped, walking out to the field with your styrofoam cups of tea, it was starting to get cold. The crowd was made up of the parents of the girls who were huddled into a circle, Maggie welcomed you both over as she introduced you. “Girls, this is (y/n) she used to play here when she was your age and this is Millie Bright, she plays for Chelsea and England”. The smiles on the girls’ faces were undeniable and listening to Millie give them a pep talk made you so happy inside. The girls won their first game this season and afterwards both teams took a group photo with Millie, “this will be framed and hung up next time you come (y/n), please don’t leave it as long next time”, Maggie hugged you both one last time before making your way back to the car. You talked with Millie the entire journey back to the airport, you’d been inspired to start training as a coach for young girls and wanted to build the team into something more, something for all girls - young and old. Maggie is getting close to retirement age and is looking for a replacement, you’d be the perfect fit if you can ace the training! You’d been sleeping on this idea for a while but wanted to visit to make sure you could handle it. Instead of running away from the sadness you wanted to bask in the happiness that the team bought you for years.
Following The River Thames back to London you had so much on your mind - can I go into football coaching with absolutely no experience apart from when I was 6 years old? Would it even be possible? What will dad think? He thinks I’m destined to take over the company but what will he think of my other ideas? I guess I could do both. What the fuck have I just done?! “You okay captain?” Millie’s soothing voice floated into your ears through the headphones snapping you out of the spiralling thoughts. “What have I just done?” you asked back to her as you flew over Dartford Crossing, looking at the traffic backed up like always gave relief that you were not stuck in it on the ground. “You’ve just done something amazingly positive!” she said animatedly, looking at you with pure joy in her eyes like you were the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, even with the London Skyline glistening up ahead. Her hand went to grab your thigh like she always does but pulled back quickly wondering if it was okay to touch you while you were flying, you noticed her hand waving around in confusion and plucked it out of the air, placing it where it wouldn’t hinder your control of the aircraft. You always hold each other when you’re driving but she didn’t know if the same etiquette was okay to do in a helicopter! “I’m going to support you every step of the way” she assured you, squeezing a little tighter to make sure her words sunk in. Millie had a wonderful way of recognising your patterns of overthinking and opening the conversation around them, she’s incredibly attentive to the way you go silent for long periods and know that’s when your ‘messy brain’ starts to take hold.
Floating back down to earth you then drove back to her place, greeting the dogs at the doorway and changing into an oversized tee Millie gave you for when you stay at hers. She sat down on the sofa, tapping the cushion for you to come snuggle into her, laying your head on her lap she stroked your hair gently. “I’m so proud of you baby” she leant down to kiss you, “today must have taken a lot of energy” kissing you on the forehead this time. It had taken a lot of energy to plan everything and you were a bit worried that you had maybe set yourself up for failure with the coaching thing but it was positive energy to start with, you’re just second guessing yourself. You know deep down that this is your destiny, maybe dad knew this when he invited Millie to the auction, he did seem particularly happy when you were outside together and has accepted her into the family with the greatest ease. Today was the start of something special, something memorable and with Millie by your side you know you can do anything.
#millie bright#millie bright x reader#lionesses#lionesses x reader#woso x reader#woso masterlist#woso series#woso fic#woso community#woso imagine#woso one shot#woso fanfics#wlw series#wlw fanfic#wlw fiction
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