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catsukkii · 2 months ago

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Prohero!katsuki — with florist reader

IN WHICH… katsuki was Inlove with a girl at the flower shop, ever since his mom brought him when he was little. He was always a bully to her because he couldn’t process his emotions. Eventually, he went to UA Highschool and moved on to become a pro-hero, leaving them no time to talk and leaving on bad terms, katsuki comes home for the holidays and tries to fix things, but damn she got even prettier.

Pairing; Katsuki bakugo x Afab!reader (she/her.)

Content contains; fem!reader, fluff fluff fluffy, swearing, cheesy love stuff, mentions of katsuki being a dick when he was younger, I think that’s it (lmk if u notice anything else!)

Word count; 1.6k

A/N; WOWOWOWO I got carried away I’m so sorry nobody’s gonna read ts LMAOO

Prohero!katsuki whos smitten with the cute girl who owns a flower shop, his mom used to visit it all the time when he was young, always buying potted plants and pretty flowers to decorate around the house, he always thought the owners daughter was pretty but of course he was a little shit when he was younger and was mean to her.

Prohero!katsuki who knows he was a dick when he was younger, he’s still repairing old relationships since middle school like izuku, he wants to build a relationship with you, but he figured you were off doing something for yourself at this point.

Prohero!katsuki who visits his mom back at home for the holidays, getting to spend time with family. His mom was decorating the house and wanted some pretty red poinsettias for the holiday spirit, of course she would have to visit her favorite florist shop.

“katsuki! do you remember that old florist shop we used to go to when you were just a small thing?” she speaks while putting some garland up, katsuki putting up some christmas collectibles on the shelfs, he froze once he heard this but quickly shook it off.

“yeah ma, I do. you’d drag me there all the damn time.” he rolls his eyes at the memory as she glared at him.

“you were so mean to that little girl! I remember having to yell at you so many times…” she tuts and shakes her head thinking back on the boys antics when he was younger, he has grown a lot and she’s seriously proud of him even if she doesn’t always say it.

“yeah…I know.” he grumbles out lowly, sighing to himself.

“yknow, her mother got to old to run the shop so she’s took over,” katsuki paused his movements at this, gears immediately turning in his head. “I want some red poinsettias, like we always got for the holidays. Why don’t you go get them so you can apologize to the poor girl? she runs the shop all herself now, and she asks about you sometimes.”

she explains finishing up the garland she was wrapping around various things. You asked about him? why? surely it couldn’t of been anything good, you were probably praying on his downfall and with good reason unfortunately.

Prohero!katsuki who immediately takes her up on her offer, she always knew katsuki was smitten with the girl, so it was a little bit of a scheme on her part. He drives over, his luxury car looking silly among your little mint green beetle car in the parking lot.

Prohero!katsuki who sits in his car for atleast 10 minutes contemplating what the fuck he would even say to you. he eventually gets the courage and strides in, seeing you sit with a bored expression twirling a pen in your hand. You got even prettier over the years, he can feel his face flush but he quickly shakes it off. He’s merely here because he was mean to you and wanted to rekindle a friendship, not some cheesy love story.

Prohero!katsuki who walks up to the counter with a gruff expression, crossing his arms and mumbling “red poinsettias…” you look up at him with confusion, barely understanding him.

“excuse me? sorry I couldn’t he—“ your jaw dropped at the sight, fucking katsuki bakugo was here after all these years..and jeez was he hot. He grew to a good 6’ at least and Jesus was he STRONG.

“…katsuki?” You question with a gasp, immediately turning your slouch into sitting straight up.

Prohero!katsuki who clears his throat and speaks up, “yeah…hey y/n.” he sheepishly looked around and scratched the back of his neck, he didn’t know if he could handle looking into your pretty eyes anymore.

Prohero!katsuki who cant help the smirk that crawls onto his face once you smile brightly up at him.

“omg katsuki! It’s been years— holy shit you’ve grown so much!?” you blurt out various realizations and stand up from behind your register, walking out from behind the counter with your hands on your hips, ready to catch up for the time missed.

Prohero!katsuki who is slightly overwhelmed by your greeting, grateful? yes. confused? also yes. how could you not hate him after he was a total dick? then again you truly were the sweetest girl no matter what. You never snapped back at katsuki when you were young, only crying.

Prohero!katsuki who gets a smug look when you talk about how strong and tall he’s gotten. “you’ve grown alot aswell.” he smiles down at you, before averting his gaze to look at his shoes and avoid eye contact at all costs.

“I can’t believe you’re a hero now! I only got to hear about you through your mom, I’ve been to busy trying to keep the shop from closing I haven’t had time for anything else.”

he frowned at this, it must be alot for a young girl like you to handle all by yourself.

“We barely have business and your moms probably the only reason the store hasn’t been closed yet…”

his frown grew evidently wider, you barely have business anymore? you guys had the best shop! that’s why his mother loved it so much! It was cheap, the quality was beautiful, and the service was excellent! how could you be falling out of business?

Prohero!katsuki who wears a look of pity for you for the first time in years. he sighs before looking at you and speaking,

“that sucks, I think you’re the best shop, sorry these extras can’t see that.”

it caught you off guard to hear him so sympathetic, you can’t help but let out a giggle at the irony of his drastic change over the years. you push his shoulder lightly,

“look at you being all nice and sympathetic! the katsuki I last saw would rather die then feel bad for me!” you smiled up at him brightly.

“yeah about that…” he trails off with a sigh. “I kind of came to apologize. I was dumb as a kid and…just a dick for my own personal reasons, but it’s not an excuse when you were nothing but nice to me. I’ve grown a lot and I’m still fixing relationships from back then so uhh..I’m sorry.” he finishes his speech and it makes you frown at his heartfelt words.

“awww…katsuki!” You rush over to him and wrap your arms around him tightly, he stiffens at first but eases into it and loosely wraps his arm around you with a breathy laugh.

“yeah yeah…you were always an emotional shit.” despite his sass he has a wide grin on his face, you pull away from the hug and roll your eyes, a few seconds of silence goes by before it hits you.

“the poinsettias!” you facepalm and rush around the store to where the pretty red flowers were potted, you grabbed the pot and brought it back to the counter where katsuki was waiting.

Prohero!katsuki who watches you intently as you work, “so do you want them potted or just the flower?” you ask simply. “I don’t know what the fuckin’ hag wants.” he replies with a scoff as if you asked him the most preposterous question.

“katsuki! be nice! she’s a wonderful lady..” he rolls his eyes at you and grunts. “I’ll just give you some of both, on the house seriously.” he scowls at you and shakes his head.

Prohero!katsuki “none a’ that shit.” you laugh at his antics, grabbing a knife to cut the stems. “seriously katsuki, we never get business. I’m probably gonna have to put all of these in our already very crowded garden if they don’t sell anyway.” you explain continuing your work on the flowers.

Prohero!katsuki who ponders for a moment before ultimately speaking up and deciding, “alright give me 10. I’ll double the price.” before you can even try to argue he’s pulling out his wallet, causing your jaw to drop and you quickly spin around to fully meet his gaze.

“nono! katsuki seriously it’s fine! I don’t wanna do that especially after all your moms done for the store.”

he gives you the meanest glare he can muster and just continues to ignore you and pull out money, you sigh but are grateful nonetheless. You grab some more of the flowers from their section, equally dividing it to be 5 bouquets and 5 pots. you made quick small talk as you worked catching up on eachothers lifes, he couldn’t help but blush just at your mere presence, not that you were any better off, you couldn’t look at him without your eyes drifting to his muscular body. you hand him the pretty flowers and offer to help load them into his car, he only accepts to talk to you longer if we’re being honest.

Prohero!katsuki who just doesn’t wanna say goodbye yet. “hey uh..I know ma wouldn’t mind if you went for dinner with us, if you don’t got plans that is.” he mumbles and glances around overwhelmed with nerves at your possible rejection.

Prohero!katsuki who lights up when you excitedly scream, “oh my gosh yes! thank you that’s so sweet..” and offers you a ride there, promising to bring you back after dinner so you can get your car and drive home.

Prohero!katsuki who is already smitten with the cute florist girl once again, and gets relentlessly teased by his mother when he walks through the door with her.

Prohero!katsuki who seriously hopes a sweet girl like you will welcome him back into your life, he’ll even help promote your shop if you let him. he just wants the cute florist girl to be just as down bad as he is.

a/n; guys pls this is cute (I think.) give it a chance…

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wilonevys · 2 months ago

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𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 (𝟏/𝟐)

the list of the smaus i've read and liked so far!

completed ✔️ - discontinued/on hold ❌ personal favourites 💎 - ongoing 🟩 - smut/nsfw 🔞

note: any smau that hasn’t been updated in over a year will be considered discontinued.

en- sunghoon and maknae line smau recs click HERE!

txt smau recs click HERE!

sorry for the tags!

links are under the cut!

hyung line/multiple

𓆩♡𓆪 « confident » ✔️ 💎💎💎 🔞 by @bambisgirl

SYNOPSIS. after graduating high-school and having a major glow-up over summer, you became more confident in yourself and got the title of the most popular girl at decelis university in your first week of freshman year. you instantly dethroned all of the sophomore girls, on top of being so pretty, kind, smart and sexy… girl you have it all. yet you’re still the same kind, naïve and funny y/n that can’t refuse anyone coming her way. after all, you know what they say… confidence makes a girl sexy but kindness is key!

𓆩♡𓆪 « no nut november » ✔️ 🔞 by @jayflrt

SUMMARY ▸ four men suppressing their carnal instincts for thirty days doesn’t sound plausible, but it’s no nut november, so victory is crucial. yet, there’s only one obstacle keeping lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, and park sunghoon from their prize: you. game on, boys.

𓆩♡𓆪 « to do: find a boyfriend » 🟩 by @seokgyuu

being single for three and a half years all of your friends are tired of your constant whining. while your girlfriends want you to just get laid, your boy-friends, on the other hand, just think you should pick one of them to date. ignoring them all, you instead decide to try out a dating app to find your match.

𓆩♡𓆪 « r u online? » ❌ (on hold) 💎 by @hoonvrs

SYNOPSIS seems like there’s a small problem between the four best friends when they each find themselves crushing on the same girl. now it’s left up to you to decide who’s your endgame.

𓆩♡𓆪 « zoom » ❌ 💎 🔞 by @enhas-bestie

SYNOPSIS: In which Y/N has a zoom meeting and it turns out that her TA! is incredibly hot. Things escalate. Chaos ensures.

lee heeseung

𓆩♡𓆪 « buy one, take me » ✔️ by @heeracha

synopsis: with his best friend asking him for help because said best friend was scared he wasn't "boyfriend material" enough, heeseung looks for flower shops for his best friend's girlfriend. thankfully, jake knows someone from the university who has an aunt that owns a flower shop, you. now, heeseung messages you and shyly, but shamelessly asks if he can get any promos or discounts to which you shamelessly answered him, "buy one, take me". heeseung doesn't pass on this, of course. after all, you are pretty damn cute.

𓆩♡𓆪 « you, me and the moon » ✔️ by @heeracha

synopsis: lee heeseung is a famous frat boy who is known to be mysterious since he would always stay at the corner to observe people passing by but he does not like the fact that his eyes would linger a little longer on you than he likes to admit because who the fuck is he kidding? you're way too good for him.

𓆩♡𓆪 « so sick ! » ✔️ 💎💎💎 by @yeonjunszn

summary: when your boyfriend of almost eight years cheats on you your senior year of university, you decide that you’re done with anything and everything to do with love. that is, until you meet a guy who sings love songs for a living.

𓆩♡𓆪 « hands on you » ✔️ 💎 💎 by @thatfeelinwhenyou

IN WHICH; I-LAND 2 happened and you debuted first place as the leader of LUMIÈRE. Having been told that your group is involved in a lore crossover with ENHYPEN, you navigate work, friendship, and love while trying to make it in an industry filled with animosity and condemnation. When life throws you lemons, you gotta make lemonades chuck it right back!

𓆩♡𓆪 « the revenge pact » ✔️ by @boyfhee

synopsis: lee heeseung is the handsome yet good for nothing mysterious boy living a floor below you, who dropped out of college and is living quite a lavish life. when you get fired from your job, ending up struggling to make your ends meet and failing to pay the rent, heeseung offers you rather an eccentric proposal : pay the rent or be his girlfriend.

𓆩♡𓆪 « sugar daddy » ✔️ 💎 by @jayflrt

SUMMARY ▸ in which heeseung accidentally becomes your sugar daddy, but funding a sugar baby is hard when you’re a broke college student.

𓆩♡𓆪 « a stoner's guide to starbucks » ✔️ 💎 by @jayflrt

SUMMARY ▸ in which you work at the starbucks where heeseung is a regular at (and considered a public enemy). also he only goes when he’s stoned off his ass.

𓆩♡𓆪 « poison » ✔️ 🔞 by @onlyjaeyun

synopsis: new city, new people, a new life. after finally getting the chance to live your dreams, you're ready to close old chapters, only for a certain someone who's always been off limits to open again...

𓆩♡𓆪 « verboten » ✔️ 🔞 by @heesbaby

SYNOPSIS; a bad stroke of luck saw lee heeseung, your dads coworker, moving into your small apartment until he found his feet again. emotionally unavailable and a workaholic, you were going to try your absolute hardest to make him loosen up. even if it meant breaking a few of the house rules he'd set out.

𓆩♡𓆪 « anonymous » ✔️ 🔞 by @heesbaby

synopsis: heeseung had been your biggest supporter for months under the pseudonym ethan, sending you money in return for content and interactions. he stuck around, spending half his paycheck just for your attention, until the delusions of your work convinced him you were his.

𓆩♡𓆪 « a little dramatic » 🟩 by @heeliopheelia

yn: knock knock

heeseung: who's there?

yn: your annoying best friend

heeseung: your annoying best friend who?

yn: your annoying best friend who has to do a kissing scene in the school play but she's never been kissed before and needs you to teach her how to do it so that she doesn't make a fool out of herself in front of her crush

...in other words heeseung's down bad, yn is an idiot in denial and riki gives everyone a headache.

𓆩♡𓆪« trainees » 🟩 💎 by @hoonvrs

SYNOPSIS heeseung wasn’t known as ‘the ace’ for nothing, constantly ranking number one after every monthly evaluation. then suddenly a new name takentakes over first place — baek ‘Rin’, and heeseung doesn’t take lightly to competition.

𓆩♡𓆪 « fancam » ❌ 💎💎 by @bambisgirl

SYNOPSIS. you’re a rookie camerawoman for kpop music shows and you’re designed to film lee heeseung’s focused fancams for this enhypen comeback. you know he’s just an idol but… you spent $500 on a 4k mirrorless full frame 12.1 mp camera just to catch a better glimpse of him.

𓆩♡𓆪 « reality check » ❌ 💎💎 by @yunverse

SYNOPSIS › Shocked by the sudden revelations, yn realizes that she has been pulled into another world belonging to her favourite reverse-harem novel as the female lead’s best friend. Content with her new life, she excitedly watches from the sidelines knowing every single encounter in the novel would be unravelling right in front of her. However, as time goes on, she slowly comes to the horrifying realization that the characters she seemingly idolized are not who they seem to be.

𓆩♡𓆪 « nevertheless, (ft. park jay) » ❌ by @postalenha

SYNOPSIS, after a horrendous break up, you met a guy at a bar. you two instantly clicked and got close the whole night, so close that the two of you almost kissed. but you ran off, and planned to never see him again. but what will happen if one day, a commotion started at your university; girls going crazy over the new handsome guy in fashion design. and there you see the man standing with a butterfly tattoo on his nape. the same man from the bar, looking for you.

park jongseong

𓆩♡𓆪 « adore you » ✔️ 💎💎 by @enzenwriting

Summary: Debuting as BE:LIFT Lab’s next solo artist, you reunite with your best friend Jungwon in Enhypen! With the groups’ quick fondness towards you, a certain member is sure he adores you extra with brotherly and senior care! But what if Jay finds that this doting is unlike his feeling towards his younger members because he definitely does not want to kiss Yang Jungwon like he does to you?!

𓆩♡𓆪 « reparations » ✔️ (short smau) 💎 by @jayflrt

SUMMARY ▸ in which jay is a dog.

𓆩♡𓆪 « deuce! » ✔️ 💎💎 by @jaeminvore

summary: one may ask, what would happen if you put a prodigy and a hard worker in one room? Absolute chaos. Jay and Y/N absolutely hated each other’s guts. Having been rivals from middle school until present, it’s a cruel twist of fate that they ended up going to the same university years later. To make matters even worse, both have been selected as captains for the men’s and women’s volleyball team respectively.

The coaches, the managers—hell, both teams knew they had to put an end to this ridiculous beef as they were slowly tarnishing the esteemed reputation of both teams, but the question is: how?

𓆩♡𓆪 « strictly business » ✔️ 🔞 💎 by @onlyjaeyun

synopsis: two people, two different stories, two different hearts, one capital city. a story in which a young secretary from a small town manages to bring a new breath of fresh air into the life of seoul's most famous and untouchable ceo.

𓆩♡𓆪 « more than this » ✔️ 🔞 by @heesbaby

in a society where hybrid's were still made to feel like nothing, you wanted to show jay how much more he was worth

𓆩♡𓆪 « are you blackmailing me? » ✔️ by @liliansun

Synopsis: Jay has his eyes on you, but you couldn’t care less. When he finally musters up the courage to speak to you, you ask him about his friend instead. In attempts to salvage his chance, he agrees to help you if you help him in return.

𓆩♡𓆪 « 21st century girl » ✔️ 💎 by @hoonvrs

SYNOPSIS where jay 'claims’ he has a girlfriend but none of his friends believe him because how are you a girl in the 21st century and don't have any social media, right? and if you and jay continue to let them think your relationship is fake for entertainment purposes, nobody has to know.

𓆩♡𓆪 « yours forever in 786 » 🟩 🔞 by @jayflrt

SUMMARY ▸ after being blackmailed into accepting an assignment, jay park, a young private detective, is thrown back into college. this time, though, he’s at an ivy league and tasked to follow you to uncover what dark secrets your old money family is hiding. in doing this, jay must fraternize with your inner circle by joining a secret society called the "order of kryptos.” what he doesn’t realize is that the deeper he gets into his mission, the more he starts to lose himself.

𓆩♡𓆪 « knock me down » ❌ 💎 by @nekkodiaries

SUMMARY: park jay lives life as a hot-headed gamer by day and.. well.. still a hot-headed gamer by night— except he secretly goes by the name killstrike. after losing a pubg duo match, he finds himself trash-talking his teammate notursniper, who happens to be the mysterious classmate he's been admiring for over a year and more.

𓆩♡𓆪 « friendzoned » ❌ by @szniki

summary! - nishimura yn has been pining for her best friend jay park since 7th grade, but she’s well aware that jay will continue to be oblivious and had accepted that she’s stuck in the friendzone, that is until she befriends a foreign exchange student from australia and jay can’t help but feel jealous over how quick yn and her new friend are bonding

𓆩♡𓆪 « can i call you tonight? » ❌ by @heesbaby

yn needs money. that’s the only reason she keeps agreeing to babysit jay’s son each week. nothing was ever going to blossom out of it, not with jay - a workaholic 6 years older than her. she keeps telling herself that every time his smile lingers a little too long on his lips, but each time she dials his number into her phone, he picks up before the second ring.

𓆩♡𓆪 « nevertheless, (ft. lee heeseung) » ❌ by @postalenha

sim jaeyun

𓆩♡𓆪 « the world's a little blurry » ✔️ by @0x1lovebot

synopsis: having feelings for someone who’s in a relationship is already so hard to deal with. so imagine jake’s struggle when the taken girl that he’s had feelings for for years comes to him for help in physics. will he actually move on or will the lines start to blur between tutoring and romance?

𓆩♡𓆪 « doctors orders » ✔️ 💎💎 🔞 by @heesbaby

synopsis. jake was a little concerned by how often you were sat in his waiting room, but he couldn't deny how he searched his appointment list each morning hoping to see your name

𓆩♡𓆪 « after hours » ✔️ 💎 🔞 by @heesbaby

SYNOPSIS; jake sim, bassist of AFTERHOURS and all round terrible guy, so deep in his self absorbed world where everything went his way and everyone fell at his feet. he hardly noticed you moving in next door until he caught a glimpse of you in the hallway. completely uninterested in your neighbour, you did you best to ignore his advances. that was until you found yourself humming along to the songs he practiced every night.

𓆩♡𓆪 « hype boy » ✔️ 💎 💎 🔞 by @onlyjaeyun

synopsis: after years of hiding himself in the responsibility of raising his youngest brother, jaeyun finally finds himself falling head over heels for the sweet college student from next door...

𓆩♡𓆪 « maybe we could be together » ✔️ 💎💎 by @jaeminvore

summary: in which Y/N has already accepted the fact that she will never be anything more than a best friend to Jake. She’s fine. She’s kept it all together for so long. However, Sunoo is a force to reckon with and he will do anything in his power to get Jake and Y/N together—Oh, and not to mention Sunoo really hates Jake’s current girlfriend, much to the annoyance of Y/N.

𓆩♡𓆪 « nights with you » ✔️ by @nvertheless

sypnosis — jake sim couldn’t sleep at night. with the stress of school taking over him he wasn’t able to fall asleep anymore.. until he gets recommend a nightly lofi channel to fall asleep to and it works really well for him.. not knowing your the owner of that nightly lofi channel.. and u possibly have the biggest crush on jake..

𓆩♡𓆪 « cigarettes » ✔️ 💎 💎 by @hoonvrs

SYNOPSIS where university student jake develops a little crush on the girl he sees with a cigarette between her lips in the smoking area and decides he needs to impress her. how else would he do that except calling his smoker friend to teach him how to smoke ( spoiler: it doesn’t go so well. )

𓆩♡𓆪 « boomerang » ✔️ 💎 by @amakumos

SYNOPSIS: you and jake sim have always been academic rivals. it was always you against him for top of the class, and jake is sure that you two were made to hate each other. a couple years later when you debut and become an idol, you find yourself talking to him again - but it’s in a group chat with other aussie idols, and perhaps you realise that he isn’t that insufferable.

𓆩♡𓆪 « equation for disaster » ✔️ 💎 by @amakumos

SYNOPSIS — much to you and your boyfriend jake’s delight, there’s going to be a math championship for idols now. with both of you hellbent on winning, you two decide to be rivals again for just a little while. may the best star-crossed hater win. (the sequel to boomerang.)

𓆩♡𓆪 « collie duty » ✔️ by @filmbyjy

SYNOPSIS > being the new CEO to the ‘Sim Corp’ was hard and stressful. jake didn’t have much time to spend with layla and so he decides to get a dogsitter, you. though, you were originally already his secretary. how will dog sitting bring you two closer?

𓆩♡𓆪 « one note » 🟩 by @filmbyjy

SYNOPSIS > When you turned 18, you heard your best friend’s favourite song. Turns out, it was just one of the various signs to finding your soulmate. However, you couldn’t bring this up to jake. Not when he was in a happy relationship with your other best friend! Would you choose heartbreak or sacrifice your happiness for the sake of keeping the friendship

𓆩♡𓆪 « consequences of a one night stand » ✔️ 💎 🔞 by @luvyeni

( synopsis ). in which after a drunken hookup , y/n y/ln and are jake left with some heavy consequences and now they have to come to terms with it.

𓆩♡𓆪 « all about you » ✔️ by @heeliopheelia

synopsis: finding it harder and harder to keep your feelings hidden from one of your best friends, with each day you become more restless. with the confession constantly resting on the tip of your tongue, you wonder how much longer you’ll be able to keep your sweet secret to yourself. little did you know, the exact same question has been haunting jake’s mind, keeping him just as unsettled as you.

𓆩♡𓆪 « cat & dog » ❌ by @yeongwonie

SYNOPSIS a year after his notorious 10 months ending fairy, jake is confident that the occasional jokes and furry allegations have subsided. he's wrong, unfortunately, and no amount of teasing from his members could've prepared him for his ult—you—seeing the video.

𓆩♡𓆪 « lucid dream » ❌ 💎 by @yyunari

SYNOPSIS . many might recognize y/n as one of the most beloved and rounded 4th generation idols. being in aespa brought her a lot of popularity and made her really well known, especially for her talents and bubbly personality. when y/n becomes a music bank mc along with enhypen’s sunghoon, what will happen when she meets her old high school crush from back in australia?

𓆩♡𓆪 « cupid's cure » ❌ by @amakumos

synopsis. as the new admins of cupid’s corner, gunwook and eunchae make it their mission to get back some of the couples that jungwon’s girlfriend had unintentionally broken up. one of the couples on their list are you and jake sim, also known as the self proclaimed “rizzler of oz”. you haven’t talked to jake since the breakup — because one, you don’t think you’re quite over him yet, and two, you have zero reason to speak to him! that is, until eunchae works her “magic” — she decides to post a confession (apparently coming from jake himself), saying that he still loves you.

𓆩♡𓆪 « pinky promise » ❌ by @sunboki

THE LAST SUMMER you spent with Jake Sim was the beginning of a disaster and it all began with a pinky promise. You left Australia a few days before high school to become a trainee under BigHit Entertainment, sending you far away from home, from Jake. Well, you didn’t know it back then, but Jake had also come to Korea as a trainee a year later, and fate worked its magic when you’re both selected as KBS MC’s together. The pinky promise in question? A promise to be together till the end.

note: sunghoon and maknae line smaus will be on another post! tumblr being a bitch and doesn't let me add more links :(

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sukirichi · 7 months ago

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WHEN I SEE YOU AGAIN | G. SATORU x READER

You’ve been pretending not to see ghosts your whole life in order to blend in perfectly, but you can’t ignore the cute ghost with a bright smile standing in front of your door.

cw. ghost! gojo. fem! reader. minimal fluff. graphic depictions of murder. angst. hurt no comfort. mentions of grief. mentions of being under the influence (alcohol and drugs.) characters with depression. unedited.

notes. wrote a lil something for gojo since it’s been a while since i wrote any jjk fics and i missed it :( also should i open requests again? i miss writing one shots lol

wc. 7k

You met him on the first night of winter.

Eager to get home after a long and tiring day at work, you blow hot air on your freezing palms to keep them warm before stuffing it deep in your coat pockets. The walk home was less than fifteen minutes, and you’ve always refused to buy a car because you enjoyed the journey and wanted to familiarize yourself more with the city. You previously lived in the outskirts, but after a phone call from the main department telling you you were promoted and had to transfer in the city, you found yourself packing up on the weekend and renting a cheap apartment.

Located in the middle of everything – convenience stores, medical facilities, popular bars, and a quaint looking flower shop with a cute florist – you thought your apartment was perfect. It was a little shabby, you had to admit. The plumbing didn’t work well and electricity got cut off at random times in the night that resulted in a headache because you couldn’t send that damn email, but the landlord offered an extremely cheap rent that you couldn’t refuse. Plus, it was only a few minutes walk from your office and your neighbors were peaceful.

Well, most of them anyway.

Your neighbors consisted of mostly old couples who were so silent and desolate that you often forgot they existed, your eyes widening whenever you saw an unfamiliar old lady walking and asking you how your day was before realizing, Oh, she’s Mrs. Oliver, I completely forgot. Save for the married couple who were always throwing pots and pans at each other because darn Ronald couldn’t put the toilet seat back down, your place was placid. The landlord was ecstatic when you saw her poster and inquired for a unit, muttering something about not getting enough tenants to keep the place going because of ‘a traumatic issue.’

You’d really rather not ask what it was.

Besides, you’ve never been curious enough of what the world has to offer, simply because you see things – or rather fragments of people – that you’d rather not see. Ever since you started seeing ghosts at a young age of four, people avoided you like the plague, calling you a ‘freak’ and whatnot. Your family soon moved away to a much smaller place in the city because they couldn’t handle seeing their child who often talked to ghosts and sat in corners alone while laughing by herself be criticized by others. They didn’t believe you, of course, often calling it a ‘lonely child’s imagination.’ They sent you to multiple therapists who always assured you that they would listen to whatever problems you were having to cause you to be this way.

Unfortunately for them, there wasn’t anything wrong with you. You weren’t lonely at all. You saw a dozen ghosts every day who were always ecstatic at finding out you could see them, and they were more than willing to interact. As a child, you always thought ghosts were more interesting than actual people because they had an unlimited amount of time to converse with you, and they have had so many experiences to share with you.

When you grew older, however, you started to see yourself in other’s eyes, realization dawning on you that on social norms, you are, indeed, a freak.

Determined to fit in more and also sick of being faced with countless counselors who strongly believed you had a traumatic experience when your whole life has been nothing but bland and plain, you started ignoring them. It wasn’t easy at first, though. These ghosts have always kept you company while everyone gave you the side eye without knowing who you really were, and you admit you felt lonely in the beginning and a little guilty when they were convinced you couldn’t see them anymore.

You participated more in school activities and even joined a photography club in high school (you had to quit a month later because ghosts kept appearing on your photos, and you had to burn them in order not to freak anyone out) and with each baby step you took, you started to fit in more. The proud look your parents had on their faces when you had finally become ‘normal’ and even got an award for being an exemplary student was enough to keep you going on this journey, and you ignored the lonely spirits so hard that you eventually started seeing less and less of them.

Until now.

Standing in front of your door was a young man, his back awkwardly bent and long, beautiful fingers fiddling awkwardly with one another. He stood barefoot yet wore a comfy looking blue university hoodie and grey sweatpants, and his silver hair seemed shiny and healthy enough to not consider him a homeless man who was lost and simply wandering. Tipping your head to the side, you rack your brain to remember if you had any neighbours like him.

His head snaps in your direction.

He is definitely not your neighbour. You would have remembered such a cute looking guy.

He had unnaturally ethereal futures, prominent cheekbones becoming more pronounced when you meet his eyes, and you blink to gain control over your body when you realize you’ve been staring too long than what would be considered acceptable. You don’t even deny you’ve been checking him out, although you do ignore the almost puppy-like way his eyes lit up at the sight of you, causing your heart to jump a little. Just a little. You also liked how his hair complimented perfectly with his pale skin – he seemed like an exact embodiment of winter.

You walk forward, spinning your keys at the end of your pointer finger. Smiling at him politely, you paused in your tracks. He’d been blocking your door. “Hello, is there something I can help you with?”

No matter how cute he was, you wouldn’t hesitate to break his nose if he was a criminal.

His pretty hands come up to his face to cover his mouth falling open, and you take a step back when he does a little jump and starts laughing. “You can see me?”

“Uhm, yes,” you answer. “You’re blocking my door, so yeah, I can very much see you.”

As if realizing just now he stood in the way of you and your comfortable bed, who was calling out to you by now, he mutters a quick apology under his breath before stepping aside, a goofy grin remaining on his face and his childish behavior makes you scoff in amusement. He was still watching you even after you’ve unlocked your door, and you sigh at him. “Is there any reason you’re still standing outside my apartment, or should I call the police?”

Instead of looking worried like you expected him to, his smile only gets bigger. “Actually, I live here, well… I used to.”

You stare at him blankly with a slack expression on your face, watching as his features turn sheepish. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Looking down on his bare feet, you mumble a curse under your breath when you realize he’s hovering.

“Not again,” you say to yourself before placing a palm against your forehead. It’s been years since you last saw a ghost, why did you have to see them now out of all times? A new branch is opening up and your superiors have given you the project of making sure the launch goes well, and you didn’t really want a ghost bothering you with your biggest task of all time. You worked hard for this promotion, you didn’t want to take one step forward and two steps back. Glaring at the undeniably attractive ghost who still hovered in your doorway, you decided he wasn’t your problem.

“Well, goodnight.”

You slam the door on him and trudge towards your bedroom, ignoring his “Wait!” as you unwrap the red scarf around your neck and plop on your bed almost lazily, moaning when your stiff muscles finally relax. The bed was so soft and warm because you’d left the heater on accidentally, and you’re about to be sent to dreamland when a voice beside you speaks up.

“You should take off your makeup before going to bed.”

Opening your eyes and coming face-to-face with the ghost who was resting his chin in both of his hands and laying on your bed, you grab a pillow and throw it at him, and he grins when the object goes past him completely. “Get out of my house, stop bothering me!”

“Technically, darling, this is still my house,” he tells you and starts sitting up before crossing his legs. “The unit was still named after me before you came.”

“Then why wasn’t I informed about that?”

“I was murdered here four years ago,” he deadpans, soft voice flitting into a murmur as he plays with his fingers again, refusing to look at you. “That’s why I never left. Judging from what you said earlier, you can see ghosts, and you know exactly why we’re still here.”

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you stumble over your words. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know and–”

“It’s quite alright,” he shrugs.

Silence soon joins the two of you; the ghost playing with the ends of your blanket with a far-off look in his face while you study his features, and something tugs at your heart. The reason why ghosts remain here instead of passing on like they were supposed to was because it meant someone was still holding on to them and absolutely refused to let go, or if they had unfinished business that needed to be resolved before they could go in peace. You’ve met ghosts like him who were murdered, and all of them remained with a seething rage and insatiable need for revenge, unable to accept that there wasn’t much they could do in their state.

As for the one sitting in your ghost, a small smile tugs at the end of his pink lips as he takes in your bedroom, amusement dancing in his eyes at the amount of stuffed animals you had and some framed photos of you as a child.

“You decorate much better than me, and you’re a lot more organized, too. This place was such a mess back when I was still alive.”

There was an unmissable hint of sadness behind his voice, and you can’t help but ask his name. “I’m Satoru,” he grins, “and for the record, I’ve always been here, just floating through time and space, but not the afterworld yet. For some reason, ever since you arrived, I just appeared back where I left off.”

You nod and take in his words, noticing how he clears his throat and sends a sheepish look your way. “If it’s not too much of a bother, can I ask for your help?”

“What is it?”

He stands up and heads toward your desk, although you supposed it was his since the furniture had already been here before you came. You didn’t think too much about it back then and only felt grateful that you had one less piece of furniture to buy, especially since it was empty. Apparently not, because Satoru keeps digging around through your files with his tongue peeking out his lips, and you vaguely recall that ghosts are able to touch things after feeding off of energy from living beings.

Letting out an ‘aha!’ when his hand finally lands on what he’s looking for, he tenderly places a photo on your outstretched palm with a shy smile. Inside the photo was a beautiful man, probably in his mid twenties, his hair up in a messy bun as he grinned at the camera. Beside him, Satoru’s eyes are closed with his head thrown back in laughter, relishing the feeling of that warm sunny day, and you unconsciously frown at it.

“His name’s Suguru,” he began, his eyes turning glossy at the sight of the polaroid. “He was my best friend before I died.”

Pursing your lips and feeling the tension thicken the room, you ask him, “Why are you telling me this?”

“He’s the reason why I can’t go,” he admits, shoulders dropping while his eyes remain trained on her. “He blames himself for everything and refuses to accept that I’m gone, that’s why I’m still here.”

You remain silent and take a deep breath, your head pounding at the situation. It was a beautiful first night of winter, the perfect weather for you to do your work from home while nestling a cup of hot cocoa in your hands, yet it seems your plans changed and you have to help this ghost out. A part of you wants to reach out and embrace him in a hug, but you know you’ll only end up stumbling on your own feet and clearly, Satoru wants to move on to the next chapter of his journey.

“Can you please tell him I’m okay now?”

When he looks at you like that, shoulders hanging low and an almost shy smile decorating his innocent features, it’s hard to say no.

“I will.”

Through the past few weeks since you’ve met Satoru, your life seemed to light up like a Christmas tree without you noticing. He was a funny guy and often pulled pranks on you, like slamming the cabinets open and closed or leaving your window open in the middle of the night, laughing when you shout at him as your teeth chatter and you slam your windows shut.

“I could have died from the cold, you idiot!”

He keeps laughing as if he didn’t nearly kill you with hypothermia, “Well, if you die, I guess we’ll be together then,” and even has the audacity to wiggle his eyebrows. You scowl at him and pull your jacket closer to your body, asking what he wants from you because he never goes this far to demand for your attention unless he wants something from you.

“What do you want this time?”

“I wanted to finish that series we were watching the other day,” he pouts rather childishly, “You always tell me not to watch it without you.”

On a particular weekend where you felt like your brains were about to explode from exhaustion due to your work piling up, you refused to wake up until noon, and you felt thankful Satoru knew how tired you were and let you have your much needed rest. When you woke up, a bowl of cereal was already waiting for you in your kitchen island, meaning the reason you felt tired even after that long slumber was because he fed off your energy to give you food.

Feeling thankful for the simple, sweet action, you munched on it happily. It wasn’t anything special and the corn flakes had gone too crusty for your liking, but Satoru’s happiness at you appreciating what he prepared was worth it. After breakfast, you dumped the bowl into the sink and planned to wash it later, opting to flick through Netflix for a good show. Satoru had excitedly pointed at one title that he said he’s always wanted to watch, and the two of you became hooked on it soon enough. Lunch and dinner were both forgotten as you two sat beside each other, your leg against his. Although you couldn’t exactly feel him, his presence was warm.

You and Satoru had been so immersed in the show and unexpected turn of events that time flew by and it was already half past three. He was the first to notice and he jumped from his seat, his hands waving worriedly in a comical manner. “I’m so sorry I made you skip your meals! Aren’t you hungry, you should have some pizza delivered or something.”

Glancing at the clock, you hummed when you realized it was indeed late. You weren’t feeling hungry since you were mostly abeyant, and nothing was open to deliver food around this time anyway. “It’s okay,” you shrug, “I’m not really hungry, and that show is addicting. Oh, and don’t watch it without me! I know you always go ahead when I’m not home!”

Satoru huffs and plops down next to you dramatically, rolling his eyes and taunting you. “Then don’t go to work, Little Miss Manager.”

You poke your finger with his forehead but it only passes through and he laughs, “I need money to survive, idiot.”

“Whatever,” he dismisses and points to your bedroom. “You’ve still got to edit your final draft, so you have to wake up early. Go to bed, don’t worry about the dish, I’ll handle it.”

“Liar, you’ll only feed from my energy so you can play video games!”

“Hey, you can’t blame me!” He counters back as he proceeds to your sink and pumps out soap to the sponge, “You were the one who bought me that console!”

“Only because you kept whining to me how much you wanted it,” you retorted before yawning, and his eyes softened at the sight of you. He rarely gets to see you dressed so comfortably in a loose shirt, cardigan and pajama pants since you were such a busy woman whose fashion sense monotonously consisted of pearl white button-up blouses and knee-length pencil skirts. Prudish and preppy, he thought, but it suits you just fine.

“You should sleep now,” he reminds you with a nod of his head back to your bedroom, and you obey, simply because your eyes were sore and tired from binge watching. You’re in the process of cocooning yourself under the covers when he calls out in a sing-song voice, “Thank you for the console, by the way. I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“Shut up!” You scream, and his rambunctious laugh was the last thing you heard before your body wholeheartedly welcomed sleep.

You’ve been thinking about that day ever since, the moment replaying over and over again in your head, successfully distracting you from focusing on your work. Even your co-workers have noticed that you’re lusterlacking lately, but how could you focus on anything else when you had a charming yet lonely ghost who was waiting for you at home?

For days on end, you can only think about the cheerful and carefree sound of his laugh as if he had so much happiness in his lithe body that he couldn’t contain. Your heart always got tugged in its heartstrings whenever you had trouble falling asleep and he sat beside you in your bed, singing you lullabies and caressing your cheek. You started to feel him now – the gush of air in your skin meant he was pressing onto you, and the more you got attached to him, the more you got confused with your feelings.

He never told you how he was murdered and you never asked, figuring it would be too sensitive for him, and your hands balled into fists each time you remembered he was dead. Satoru is such a precious person who only has too much love to give, and it was completely unfair and outrageous that his life was taken away from him in a single flash. You’ve done your research at work, and only a few articles came up regarding his death. The case remains a mystery and still unsolved until it was completely closed due to lack of leads or suspects, but the police force highly suspected someone had broken in and committed homicide without theft, since not a single belonging of him got touched. They concluded that the murderer was drunk and lost, because he was a well-loved person in their campus, and they couldn’t find anyone who could possibly harbor abhorrence for the sweet boy.

But most of all, a part of you wants him to stay. He frequently asks you if you’ve talked to Suguru, and you always denied it, making up an excuse about how he was hard to find because he graduated years ago. ‘He’s hard to find,’ you would tell him one day, and ‘He doesn’t have social media,’ the next. Even though he told you he majored in Forensics, you couldn’t find anyone in the city.

It’s a half lie. You never found Suguru, because you never looked for him in the first place.

You know it’s selfish of you to be this way, because you know Satoru wants to move on. He doesn’t say anything about it and keeps laughing instead, but sometimes when he thinks you’re too immersed in your work to notice him, you look at him. Being around you only reminds him of what he no longer has, and one look at him has you knowing he was someone who loved life. Satoru loved to travel with his friends, and he still had so many dreams left unfulfilled that made him feel empty yet desperate to be in the afterworld.

However, it is hard for you to let him go.

No matter how much you try to fit in, deep inside, you know you will always be too different from the rest. You still struggled with socializing and didn’t have a single friend yet a hundred acquaintances, and you never realized how lonely you were until he came. His smile lit up the whole room and his laugh was melodious, and you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who cared so much for you. He liked to play games and pull pranks on you quite often, but underneath all that lies a kind heart.

Satoru knows exactly when his jokes go too far and apologizes right away, promising not to do something to upset you again and always doing something entirely new to cheer you up. On nights where you’re feeling absolutely drained or you carried home your anger at your co-workers, you go to sleep without taking off your makeup. When you wake, there’s used wipes in the bin, the hovering boy in your apartment proud of his work. Sometimes you forget to cover yourself in blankets too, plopping on top of the sheets almost lifelessly. It’s in those times that he shows how much he cares for you, and you soon wake up feeling warm surrounded by heavy blankets and freshly cooked breakfast.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were falling for him. It made interacting with him difficult, because you knew you had to let him go, yet you couldn’t.

He watches you carefully and gauges your reaction, waiting to see if you’ll finish the series with him or not. It’s a Wednesday night, or more accurately an early morning on Thursday and the launch happens in less than a week. Logically, it is much better to go back to sleep and refuse, but he is rocking his weight on his heels back and forth, and you realize perhaps he has been lonely since his death too.

“Fine,” you agree, and now he’s bouncing excitedly next to you on your couch as he keeps pressing buttons in your remote.

“You’re the best, you know that?”

You only hum in response, and Satoru soon becomes lost in the show. Your eyes aren’t focused on the screen – on him rather. Placed on top of your fist lies your cheek as you study his side profile, trying to memorize the slope of his nose and the snow-white hair that keeps falling onto his eyes that makes him flip it to the side every now and then to watch the show. His right leg keeps bouncing up and down, a habit he had when he was anxiously anticipating something, and then stopping before his left leg went bouncing instead, meaning he didn’t like the situation.

Tearing your eyes away from him, you smile sadly when you realize his favorite character had been betrayed. “Did you see that? That freaking woman, he only loved her and she snitched him out like that?!”

Shrugging one shoulder and feeling your eyes become droopy, you reply, “Well, he’s a grave robber, Satoru, he was only nice to her because he liked her. She had every right to mislead him.”

“I don’t understand, but okay,” he relents and leans back, eyes closing before he intertwines his hands behind his neck and murmurs, “I hated the ending.”

“Not everyone gets happy endings,” you add grimly, watching the muscles underneath his hoodie flex at your comment. The two of you remain silent for a few minutes, and plucking up the courage, you breathe in sharply before slowly lowering yourself until your head is on his shoulder.

You keep yourself still in order not to fall, and your eyes remain fixated on his hand, silently yearning to be able to touch him. If he was alive, would his skin be as warm as his presence? His hand flexes and trails from his lap until it’s beside yours, and you hear him swallow audibly before locking your fingers with his.

A tear falls down your face. You could feel him.

Satoru hums a familiar tune, and you chuckle happily when you recognize it’s the song he always sings to you to make you sleep, his fingers rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles.

His other hand tilts your chin upwards until you’re looking directly at his eyes. You hold in your breath, his lips only a centimeter away from yours. If you lean forward, you could kiss him… but you don’t.

“Why are you crying?”

Because I don’t want you to go.

“Nothing,” you lie and offer a forced smile which he notices, but doesn’t comment about it. “I just feel happy.”

He nods slowly before leaning forward, and he gets so close that you can faintly see his freckles that dot across his cheeks lovingly, and your eyes flutter shut when his lips press against yours. Satoru sighs as if he’s been waiting too long to do that, and he is pushing against you so softly, so tenderly, that it almost fits the same atmosphere your heart creates. He is soft in everything he does, from his innocent features and smile that puts the stars to shame, to how he holds you and caresses you. His hand trails from your neck to pull you closer, and you moan when his tongue peeks out and playfully coaxes yours out to play. Tears are streaming down your face when you kiss him back slowly, tongues moving in sync as they danced harmoniously instead of battling each other for dominance. Caressing your face that fits perfectly in his hand, he brushes away your tears with the pad of his thumbs.

A moment passes before you two are breathing heavily with your foreheads pressed against each other, and the silence is broken when he speaks, his voice coming out raspy and out of breath.

“Suguru… has been struggling long before I died.”

“What?”

“My best friend… he got into a rough patch. Had troubles with his parents, went down the wrong path, and met dangerous people. I’d heard rumors he was going around skipping class and talking to people I’ve never seen before, but I chose to ignore it. Suguru would’ve told me everything once he was ready. And I was stupid, you know? I saw it. I saw how he stopped smiling, how he’d lost weight. How his eyes no longer looked happy,” Satoru’s hands trembled, the blue of his eyes hauntingly dark. “One night, I overheard him talking to someone on the phone. I’ve never heard him that angry, and I got worried. I wanted to stop him from whatever he’ll end up doing so I invited him over but… Next thing I know, he came over here, drunk and high, and stabbed me until I bled to death.”

You gasp and shudder as you imagine the scene, Satoru lying on his bed as he waited anxiously for his friend. You see him smiling at Suguru excitedly because he’d actually come, but fear replaces it when his friend succumbs to the madness. The image of Satoru drowning in his own pool of blood made you clench your jaw.

“There had to be evidence left.”

Satoru smiles sadly as if to tell you it doesn’t bother him anymore, but you can’t shake it off. How can a man be so blinded in his own misery that he could take his own best friend’s life? “He was a forensics major; he knew how to cover up his crime.”

A pregnant pause fills the room as you furrow your brows, the sound of the cold wind tapping against your windows as you rack your head to make a decision. Now that you knew the truth, you had to tell the police about it, but how would they believe you if there was no evidence found? And if the case was cleared, and Suguru had finally moved on, that means...

“You can ask me to stay.”

“What?” You breathe out, looking at his eyes with sadness pooling in them. He’s smiling, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You pull away from him completely until he’s at an arm’s length away. He doesn’t look hurt by your action but he sighs, reaching out for you and pausing with his hand mid-air when you raise a palm to stop him.

He must’ve known you’re in love with him. Just as he also knows that once he leaves, you’ll be hurt, and he doesn’t want you to feel that.

You shake your head and stand up harshly. The tears now uncontrollable as you slam your bedroom door to his face. You’re slightly thankful he doesn’t come after you and leaves you alone instead. You needed time. Time to think, time to put his needs over yours - time to forget him. Rummaging through the documents on your desk, you keep looking for it until the polaroid is clutched between your fingers, and you silently place it in your handbag.

Tomorrow, you would set things straight.

Suguru Geto was a hard man to find. He’d fled from the spotlight as one of the best students of his university after Satoru Gojo’s death. The image of his best friend, who was always in high spirits and laughed without a care in the world, covered in his own blood was a sight that scarred him for the rest of her life.

But there was one more person who hadn’t moved on from that night.

Ieri Shoko, the woman who ran first at the hospital when Satoru’s parents were away for a business trip. She didn’t want to believe it at first. Satoru had always seemed so full of life, so in love with what the world had to offer. He’d been so young – it just couldn’t be. They had to be lying, right?

But when she finally saw her friend’s bloodied corpse on that cold hospital bed, she’d fallen apart.

She went to sleep crying to herself every night, regretting and blaming everything on herself. Her instinct told her it was Suguru who had done this to him. She barged into his dorm room, screaming and flailing, punching the taller man and effectively breaking his nose as she dragged him down by the collar. Suguru was already questioned by the police after Satoru’s murder, but his alibi of being in a bar was factual, and they had proven his innocence after checking surveillance cameras. He was only gone for a few minutes before he appeared on the dance floor all over again, and they believed him when he said he only disappeared to go to the restroom.

Presumably to wash the blood off his hands.

Shoko didn’t believe it. “Tell me you didn’t kill him, tell me!”

Suguru growls, frustrated at her for even accusing him of doing such a horrendous thing, and he feigns his innocence as he pries her hands away from his collar. “I didn’t do it, Ieri, I was at a bar!”

“Bullshit!” She screams, slamming a vase onto the floor and dropping down to the floor as sobs wrecked through her body. “I smelled your perfume the moment I walked in. I know it was you…”

His eyes widened, but he remained silent because she had always been smart and too observant for her own good. He shrugs his collar back into place and goes back to his bedroom, but not before darkly muttering, “I didn’t do it, I didn’t kill him…”

Four years later, and you’re sitting in front of Officer Kento, an intimidating man with empty eyes staring at you hardly, his face devoid of any emotion. He’d been the same officer who worked on Satoru’s case before it was closed. “And why should I believe you? Ghosts don’t exist.”

You snap your head up from your lap to him and scowl, “I just want to help you here, Officer. You need to re-open this case.”

He abruptly stands up and slams his palm harshly against the desk, his eyes filled with rage as he stares down at you. “You don’t think I haven’t tried before?!”

“Well then, try harder!” You fumed, standing up. “If you don’t resolve this case, he’s going to remain here forever, lost and nowhere to go. Do you really want him to suffer even after his death?”

“How am I supposed to believe everything you say is true?”

Plucking out their polaroid from your bag and shoving it to his chest, you watch as he crumbles piece by piece. He holds the photo tentatively before cradling it to his chest, and what you presumed was a cold-hearted man was actually just a lost person.

“I don’t know why you closed that case, but it isn’t over. He’s still here, and he needs our help.”

You turn away from him to give him peace and wrap your fingers around the doorknob, “Suguru Geto is out there walking freely. You can still make a difference, Sir. It’s not too late.”

Happiness was a concept you believed to be fleeting.

One moment, you are giggling with the ghosts who tell you funny stories and whisper mischievously in your ear the correct answers in your pre-school days, and the next moment you are pressing a hand against your car windows, watching as the only people you considered friends are witnessing you leave without a goodbye.

That feeling comes back again and again, from little moments such as eating lunch with your high school friends and making empty promises to keep in touch after graduation, giggling when a cute boy comes by and asks for your number. But like any other moment in your life where you feel happy, that feeling dissipates as fast as it came.

The bell attached to the door chimes to signal a customer, and the cute florist you met on the first day you moved to this city, Choso, looks up from the pot he’s currently watering. Bowing politely, he sends a pleased smile upon the sight of you.

You tuck a stray hair behind your ear and return the smile back, his musky perfume blending in well with the sweet aroma of flowers as he stops in front of you. “Hi, I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize sheepishly, “Our latest branch just opened downtown, so I was a bit busy with that.”

“Oh, you work for that bookshop everyone’s been talking about non-stop?” You nod and laugh at his question, proud of yourself that the new opening had been successful. The state campus was only three bus rides away, and with the extensive amount of books your bookstore offered, along with its affordable prices, everyone’s been talking about it. “I’m proud of you, it was a success,” he commends, rubbing his dirties hands on his apron before opening the door for you. What can I get you?”

Personally, you thought Choso was a bit too rugged to be working in a floral shop. He always seemed to carry himself in such an awkward manner and had an authoritative yet welcoming aura to him, his shy smiles the highlights of your day. “I want to give it to my friend. Today’s their special day.”

“I see,” Choso’s eyes are already scanning the plethora of flowers he has in his shop, his brows pinching together in thought. “Can you tell me a little bit about them? It’d help to make their bouquet more personal.”

A smile makes its way to your face. “They’re… bright, carefree, innocent, and pure. They almost seem like an angel, if you ask me. I was also thinking about something that represents young love, and… new beginnings?”

You have absolutely no idea what you’re saying. The words coming out of your mouth are beyond your control. You’re sure you’re making a fool out of yourself, but Choso nods understandingly, frows burrowed before he snaps his fingers and turns to you. “White roses describe all of those, but if you want, I can whip up more flowers for you.”

He makes a move to get his scissors and starts listing off flowers with the same meanings, but you run up to him and not so accidentally wrap your hands around his to get him to stop. His eyes widen at your close proximity. You clear your throat and take a step backward, fighting the urge to smile when his cheeks are dusted a fine pink. “White roses itself are fine, thank you.”

He gulps and heads towards the back door, coming out later with a bouquet of white roses. You reach for your wallet before his arm wraps around your wris, his smile wobbly and hesitant. “It’s on the house. You can pay me back with a cup of coffee next time.”

Eyebrows rising at his smoothness, you gratefully accept the flowers and cradle it near to your chest. “A cup of coffee it is.”

Choso chuckles shyly and ducks his head, and you leave the shop with a wave of your hand before walking further and further. Your surroundings shift from the high-rise building and busy streets to a hill covered in trees sprawled out everywhere, flowers blooming and withering at every corner. Sitting down on the soil with your legs crossed, you place the bouquet in front of his headstone, his framed polaroid with Suguru standing in front of you.

It’s been exactly seven days since you last saw Satoru.

After countless sleepless nights of phone calls from Officer Kento, he’d finally cracked the case with your help. Suguru Geto was found. He’d confessed to all his crimes, his handsome face weary yet relieved. It seemed he’d never once forgotten about that night when he betrayed his friend, and just before he was ushered behind bars, he turned to you. You wished you felt anger towards him for what he did, but there was only sadness. Only regret in his eyes. He looked so tired, so hopeless.

“Thank you,” he said softly, “Thank you for finding me.”

A nod was all you could give. Suguru felt so familiar, yet so strange. You’ve heard tons of stories about him from Satoru, all about their happiest moments together. He’d been his closest friend, the one he shared so many dreams with, and the one who knew him the most. Maybe he knew Satoru wouldn’t fight back once his demons consumed him. Maybe when Suguru was holding his friend’s bloodied hand in the night, he knew – Satoru was never mad at him. He only wanted to save his friend. Maybe he knew Satoru wasn’t completely dead yet, not when he lived in everyone’s heart, and most especially yours.

That night when you returned home, the apartment felt colder than ever. Normally, it would mean a ghost lingered. But there was no longer the sound of Satoru’s humming, and the dishes were left half-washed in your sink. And for the first time in your life, you hated your eyes and how it gave you the ability to see the traces he left behind.

Because you wished you had enough time to say goodbye. You wish you had told him everything, but the thought of being another tether to the living realm weighed down on you. You couldn’t do that to him. He had to go. For Satoru to truly move into the next life, you had to close your heart and forget him. Just as Suguru’s forgiven himself, and just as Shoko’s accepted her friend’s death - you too had to say goodbye.

Tears clouded your vision.

The white remnants of his soul sparkled in your apartment. For the last time, you watched as the blue of his hoodie finally disappeared, his hands scrubbing your dishes away fading into nothingness. The plate drops and breaks. Satoru stood, his legs vanishing bit by bit as he saw the running water through his hands. He’d wanted to return your apartment to the way it was before he’d met you, but he knew – his time was running out. He didn’t have energy left to turn everything off.

The water floods your apartment. The new series he’d dearly loved still plays on the TV.

But he was here – hugged by the earth and decorated with flowers, smiling at you from far away even when you could no longer see him. Placing the bouquet of white roses down at his grave, you smiled at the photo they’d taken months before he died. He still looked just as beautiful – all wide smiles, kind eyes, and soft hands.

To you, he was still alive in your heart.

“I’ll see you around, Satoru.”

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spencereidluver · 6 months ago

Text

L is for Lover Boy

december 14, 2008

summary: After you have to drive back to your apartment for the third time in two days to get stuff, Spencer clears out two drawers in his dresser for you while you're gone and can't wait to show you.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: just lots of fluff and spence being a good bf

“No, don’t go,” Spencer says as he gently claws at your hips trying to pull you back into him. You were cuddled up with him on the sofa in his living room watching some documentary he’d put on. This was your third day at Spencer’s house, having come over Friday after work and spending the night, then being begged not to leave, so after paying a quick visit to your home in order to get a toothbrush, clothes, and anything else your heart desired, you returned to Spencer’s apartment for a second night.

“Spencer, baby, I have to,” you try to pry his hands from your hips, though he is a lot stronger than he looks. He gets a hold of you, pulling you onto his lap. He starts to tickle your ribs, making you hunch over him. You try to push his hands away, but ultimately fail as you yell his name between giggles.

“Stay and I’ll stop,” he smiles into your neck.

“One more night,” you say and grab his wrists in order to calm his movements. “But I have to go home and get work clothes, so let me go.”

He pouts, but obliges. It’s so hard to tell such a sweet boy no, plus falling asleep in his arms every night is something you could see yourself getting used to.

“Fine, but hurry. I want to cuddle,” he sighs.

You lean down, planting a kiss on his forehead and fluffing his hair with your fingers. “I love you, Spencie,” you say. “I love you.”

You trudge to the door of his apartment, slipping your shoes and coat on and grabbing your keys. “I’ll be back,” you call out to Spencer before you exit the apartment and make your way to the stairs and out to your car.

_____

At your apartment, you grabbed the one clean work outfit you still had and tossed it over your shoulder. You’d been at Spencer’s place so much recently you hadn’t done laundry in weeks. He was gonna be sad when you broke the news that tonight was the last night. For now anyways. You loved staying with Spencer… The only issue was all your stuff was at your house.

You studied the walls of your apartment. How was it that a place you’d been so comfortable in for so long had become barren? How was it that Spencer’s presence is truly what made you feel at home? You neared the entryway of your unit, letting your fingers track on the surface of the wooden table to the side of the door. You brought your hand up to your eye level: Dust. Your apartment had sat empty for so long that even the most communal surfaces had become neglected. Normally you’d stop to wipe the dust clean, but right now, all that was filling your consciousness was returning to Spencer. You grabbed the pack of gum off the dust-covered table and clenched your keys in your fist. You rush out the door of your apartment and head straight for the elevator.

_____

You’re practically tripping over your own feet as you rush back into Spencer’s apartment complex. You take the stairs as you don’t see waiting on the elevator as time efficient since you’re only going up to the second floor. As you approach his unit, you slow your steps, careful not to alarm any of the tenets. You reach his door, shuffling the items in your hands in order to knock. Two hits of your fist on the wood and the golden number “twenty-three” is replaced by a smiling Spencer Reid.

“Hey Spence,” you say, handing over the bag in your arms as he’d grabbed the strap, signaling he wanted to take it from you. He was always chivalrous: opening doors, wrapping you in his sweaters, buying you flowers, and this was another example of such. He always carried your bag for you, even if he had his own. If there was anything Spencer could do to make your day the slightest bit simpler, he was jumping to it. His world revolved around making you happy. And he did a damn good job of it.

“Hi, how was your apartment?” He asked as he stepped aside so you could enter his. He followed you, shutting the door and turning the lock behind him.

“It was alright,” you said. “Just how I left it.” You watched as he placed your bag gently on the counter. He was always extremely gentle with your things, even if he didn’t need to be. He cared as much for your things as he did for you, and treated all things, great or small, as if they were as delicate as his love for you.

“That’s good, I’m glad no one had intruded in your absence.” He turned his attention away from the direction of the counter and toward you. His eyes focused on your face, studying you. “Hey, I want to show you something,” he said as he brought his hand up to meet your waist. He pulled you into a hug, letting his hands linger on you after you’d pulled back. He stared at you for a moment before pulling you back into him, his lips crashing into yours. The kiss was rough- like getting hit by a bus. A very pleasant bus, but a bus nonetheless. His hands gripped on your waist, surely leaving marks, as his lips moved feverishly into yours.

You giggled into his kiss, pushing him away gently by his chest. He gives a small pout which makes you feel a bit bad, so you lean to give him one last small peck. He smiles.

“Sorry,” he says, his cheeks forming a light blush, “I just love you.” His hands fall from your waist. He shuffles to the front of you, grabbing your hand and pulling you behind him as he leads you to his bedroom.

“I love you, Spence,” you say while trailing behind him. “So much. Now, what are you showing me?” He drops your hand as you enter his room, moving it to the small of your back and giving you a slight shove in the direction of one of his closet.

Spencer’s closet was a small room jutting out of the wall adjacent to the door. In it was a six drawer chest, a floor mirror, and a horizontal rod that harbored his polo shirts, sweaters, and suit jackets. In front of the mirror sat his three pairs of shoes- his black converse, his brown leather dress shoes, and his black suede dress shoes. Typically, his converse were just thrown in front, as they were his most common choice and he didn’t see the effort to put them back nicely every single time was worth it. You took notice of the fact that they were set up nicely like the two pairs of dress shoes, him even having tied them to make it more visually appealing. You also noticed the knickknacks he had atop his dresser had been rearranged, and some books had been relocated from somewhere.

“You cleaned your closet!” you said, reaching out to fondle the Curta calculator that was placed on the edge of the dresser.

“I did,” he responded, still having ahold of your back. “Open the bottom drawers.”

You were a bit confused. Why was he giving you a closet tour? What could possibly be so intriguing about the contents of these drawers that he had to give you the rundown? You obliged nonetheless, partially because you were curious, but mostly because you could sense his excitement and knew this was a big thing for him.

Leaning down to grab the parallel knobs on the very bottom drawer, you braced for something slightly heavy, a wooden drawer filled with clothing, but were taken aback when the drawer practically flew open. It was empty. You were confused. Was he getting a head start on spring cleaning? Maybe you just opened the wrong drawer. You silently opened the next drawer up, it being empty as well.

You stood and faced Spencer who had a big goofy grin on his face. You furrowed your brows at him, softening your voice to say, “I’m confused.”

“It's for you,” he said, still with his dorky smile. “I just thought, since you’ve been staying here so often, and I really hate to have you traveling to and from your apartment for five minutes every other day, maybe you could store some of your clothes and things here.”

“Spencer, I-”

You must’ve had a passive tone because his smile faded as the words fell out your mouth.

“I-if you don’t want to then I understand, I know we really just started dating and rushing things is statistically bad for relationships, and I’m n-not saying you should move in with me, I just-”

“Spencer,” you interrupted him, desperate to save him from his pointless embarrassment. His eyes are wide as he looks down at you, almost as if he’s pleading. “Spence, this is so sweet,” you say, “it’s perfect.”

His smile, though more calm this time, returns. “Really?” he asks.

“Really. Such a good idea too.” You ruffle his hair. “I love you.”

His smile widens, his eyes squinting from the contortion of his cheeks.

He can barely spit out an “I love you too,” before his expression changes to one of remembrance.

“Oh!” he exclaims, “I also took my books out of this nightstand, you can put stuff in there too.” He gestured to the nightstand on the closet side- the right side- your side- of the bed.

‘That’s where those books on the dresser came from,’ you thought to yourself. You glance at the bed, noticing that he’d not only done your laundry, but also folded your clothes and separated them by outfits for you.

“Wow,” you say as your hand grazes the fabric of the folded clothing, “you really didn’t have to do all this, Spencer.”

“I know,” he said, “but I wanted to.” He picks up one of the stacks of your clothing off the bed and carries it the few steps to the closet. “You want to go ahead and put these in here?” He gestures toward the dresser.

“Sure, these can be my ‘Spencer’ clothes!”

He giggles at your little pun. That was something you loved about Spencer; no matter how bad a joke you made was, he always laughed. Maybe he was just being nice, but it made you feel good, so you weren’t complaining.

_____

You awoke before Spencer for the first time since you’ve been staying over.

‘Doing all that rearranging last night must’ve really knocked him out,’ you thought.

You lied still in his embrace, careful not to move a muscle. He was lying on his back, left arm tucked underneath you, right draped across your waist. You lied on your stomach, left leg wrapped around his hips, the other down parallel to his. Your head rested on his chest allowing you to hear every breath taken by him. You were worried if you moved even a tiny bit it would stir him awake and this would end. You were far too comfortable in his arms and with your thoughts to do such a thing.

Unintentionally, you found yourself matching his breathing patterns. You found yourself unintentionally matching a lot of Spencer’s mannerisms as of recently. Granted, you spent almost all your time with him, but you could never have ‘too much’ Spencer Reid. You thought about what he said last night: “I know we really just started dating.” While technically he was correct, it had only been three months since your first date, and a little over two since you guys had become official, it felt like a lifetime with him. Maybe this was because you were just as close before, the only difference now being that you kiss. Sometimes you have to remind yourself this is his first relationship. You’d be lying if you didn’t say you were weary to begin the relationship at first, though now you’re more than happy you did. Spencer has been the best decision of your life. Turning him from your nerdy best friend to the love of your life has been the best decision. He was perfect.

Spencer stirred beneath you, rolling over and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You reached your hand up, tangling it in his hair, and gently ran your nails through his scalp. He brought his knees up toward his chest, now lying in a loose fetal position with his legs tucked into the gap yours left. He was like a baby. Your baby.

You could hear his breath getting caught in his throat as his body fought to stay asleep.

“Hey,” you whispered softly into his ear as you let your hand trace down his hairline to cup his jaw. He gave you a small groan in response, being awake but not yet conscious.

“Spence baby,” you hummed. You tilted his face up toward you while rubbing your thumb back and forth on his sharp jawline. You pressed several small kisses on his forehead. From the way he was leaning into you, it was obvious he was awake. You looked down at him, his eyes still shut.

“G’morning,” Spencer mumbled as his eyes fluttered open and met yours.

“How’d you sleep?” You brushed a stray piece of hair from in front of his eyes.

“Pretty good. I uh, I had a dream about you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. We were just reading. You know, actually they say when you dream of your partner it means you’re wanting to spend more time with them, which is strange because aside from when you went home for an hour last night we’ve been together for the past 56 hours with no cases as a distraction. That’s the longest time we’ve been together.”

Only Spencer could wake up and immediately start sharing facts.

“Maybe it means you enjoyed the last 56 hours and wish for them to continue, rather than for them to come into existence since they already have.”

He smiles at you, in awe. “That- that’s a really good point.” “You’re not the only smart one, Dr. Reid.” You boop his nose to acknowledge that you’re teasing him. Spencer sometimes struggles with social cues; it doesn’t take a genius to know that. You always try your hardest to do something to let him know you’re just teasing.

He’s still smiling. “Y/n, you never fail to amaze me.”

His eyes sparkle in the light. More than usual. A tear falls from his left eye. He’s crying.

You wipe the tear away and grab his chin, lifting up toward you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You ask, using your soft voice again. Another set of tears falls from his eyes.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong,” he said, “I just…” His voice hitched. Tears stream down his face seemingly uncontrollably. “I just love you so much, Y/n.”

“I love you, Spencer.” You say earnestly, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss on his salty, tear soaked, lips. He melted into the kiss instantly, chasing your lips as you pulled away.

“Please, Y/n. Kiss me,” he said, sitting up to allow easier access. You sat up as well, criss-crossing your legs in front of you to match Spencer. You lean forward, grabbing ahold of his thighs to keep yourself from face planting into him. He doesn’t waste a second before he’s pressing his lips onto yours. You taste his tears with every opening of your mouth. He still has morning breath, you know you do too, but that taste belongs to what you call home. This boy, this bed, this room, this apartment; it's your home.

_____

next chapter: M is for Merry Christmas

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version!

_____

a/n: hi! long time no see... i'm really sorry for my unannounced absence :( i got really busy with school and work and just had a major burnout. i'm really gonna try to push some stories out for you guys as i really do enjoy writing them and seeing your guys' reaction to them. thank you guys for sticking with me

_____

Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!

_____

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@hookergutss @random-3455 @nmw-am @bookworm124 @hizzielover @jem08

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencereidluver #spencer reid a-z

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k-hotchoisan · 9 months ago

Text

the scentist

Your neighbour—Choi San—is such a gentleman on top of being a complete hunk and smelling so fuckin good. Especially so when he offers his hoodie when he sees you being drenched. Well, nothing could come out of such a simple gesture of kindness, right?

Genres/Warnings: perverted & obsessed scentist!San, Olfactophilia (sexual arousal from scent), masturbation on clothing, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, cumming untouched, armlock (light) breeding, pussy drunk San💙

💙 @san-network 💜

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @jeon-ify

A/N: WE BEEN KNEW THAT I’D LEAVE MY FAVOURITE MAN FOR THE LAST!! 😮‍💨 don’t be sad that this event is ending ok,, we got more to cum come 🥰 thank u for giving my fics so much love as always!!

🩷back to staying perverted

Lavender. Sweet pea. Azalea. Gardenia.

The scents of the florals fill his lab, something he’s so used to already. As the concoction bubbles, he walks over to the other flowers potted along the shelf, pressing the petals against his nose, taking in their smell before he pulls away. He pulls off his goggles, walking over to his desk, staring at the standing whiteboard, filled to the corners with flower names, chemical compounds, and other miscellaneous details. Even though he’s doing fine, he feels that something is missing. Choi San feels stale and stuck.

The rain is pattering down heavily against the pavement, he stares at the raindrops hitting the leaves of his plants. San often gets compliments on how beautiful his plants are, and how natural he is at gardening. San would don his signature smile and he would thank them for the compliment. Sometimes, his neighbours would come by to ask for gardening advice and San would gladly entertain them. This evening was no different. Another one of his neigbours who was growing greens had wanted to express appreciation by buying San his favorite fertilizers. Stacking them neatly in his cabinet, San then decides to head down to the reception to receive his parcel.

Fuck. The downpour was so sudden. It totally caught you off guard, and you were drenched before you realised it. You make it to the entrance of your apartment complex, shivering slightly from the air conditioning. You shake off the excess water off your arms, and when you look up, your heartbeat quickens—your apartment complex crush is standing at his letterbox, filtering through his mail while he holds a parcel in his arms. He’s in a grey hoodie, and for some reason, it makes him look big, and it’s driving you insane. Shit, shit, shit. You pray that he doesn’t turn around and see you.

“Hey. Good evening y/n”, San greets cheerily. You force a smile, “Good evening San.”

San has his eyes on you, and you swear he’s eyeing you down—probably judging you for being drenched and shit.

“Looks like you reached back just in time”, he teases, and you pout.

“I feel like a drenched dog. Is this how dogs feel after a shower?” You reply, brushing your hands through your wet locks, all in an attempt to stop yourself from staring at San laugh—his voice is hypnotic enough to make you melt into a puddle already. The cold air from the air conditioning hits you once more, and this time you’re beginning to shiver uncontrollably on top of struggling to open your damn letterbox and not looking like a circus in front of your crush.

You focus on fidgeting with your letterbox keys, your fingers reaching out to snatch the letters. When you close the latch, San has his hoodie unzipped, and he’s removing said outerwear.

“San, what are you-“

He’s about to hand you the hoodie, but he instead opts to put his parcels in your hands, and he fucking fits the hoodie around your shoulders, and when he does, his smell floods your senses. He smells like a mix of floral—with hints of spice and citrus, and although for a brief moment, you have it locked in some part of your brain. His fingers brush against yours as he takes his parcels and letters from you, and it doesn’t help that he’s in a black shirt that hugs his biceps, shoulders, and chest a little too well. You barely muster the strength to peel your eyes away, feeling your heart flutter when his fingers brush against yours as he retrieves his packages back from you.

You look up, hoping that the fluorescent lights don’t highlight the heat that’s rushing to your cheeks. You’re still shivering, but suddenly you don’t feel as cold as before.

“Thank you, San”, you smile. “I’ll wash it and return it to you ASAP.” San smiles in response and the both of you walk to the lift together, light conversations and laughter filling the spaces as your body and your heart gradually warm up.

San is exhausted—he’s been at the lab back to back, drafting report after report, and it’s been taking chunks out of him. Palm against his neck, he tilts his head, shutting his eyes as he stretches his neck, and then he sighs. His superiors finally approved his reports and now he has the god-given chance of going home and catching up on his sleep for the night.

The muffled sounds of his doorbell stir him up from his sleep. He doesn’t shift for a couple of seconds. Then his hands shift across the bedsheets to feel for his phone. The doorbell sounds a couple more times and San grunts in his groggy state, his fingers hitting against the edge of his phone, which he pulls closer to him to check the time.

It’s 2 pm. He crashed for 14 hours last night.

He slowly sits up, letting his sight adjust to the afternoon sun filtering through his windows before he walks over to the front door. He’s slightly grouchy from the amount of sleep he clocked in, but as he swings the door open, the remainder of his sleep dissipates when he sees that it’s you standing before him.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” You ask, rubbing your neck. “I wanted to return you this..”, you bring up a paper bag to San’s view. San is still registering this.

“But you weren’t home for the past couple of days, and I don’t have your phone number..”

San blinks. Then his hands reach out to take the paper bag, and his eyes glance downwards.

Ah, it’s his hoodie.

He looks up back to you. “Thank you. Don’t tell me you’ve been coming here every day to try to pass me this?”

“Yes and no..?” you answer with a smile. It spreads to San, who suddenly feels a shot of guilt for making you come to his unit when he wasn’t even there half of the time.

“I’ll treat you to dinner for the trouble I’ve put you through”, he says hastily. He thinks the way your eyes widen and how pink is flushing at the tip of your ears is so adorable, and then he cuts you off before you attempt to decline his offer, “Pass me your phone.”

The phone in your hand is in his now and he types in his phone number before he hands it back to you.

He leans in slightly closer, and there is a particular scent that slowly starts to make its way to his brain. Is it coming from you? For some reason, he hasn’t been able to get it out of his head since the day he lent you his hoodie. And there it was again, faint, but it was definitely there.

“Is there anything else I can help you with, y/n?”

He’s almost disappointed when he sees you shake your head, but at the same time, he has lab work to do, so he shuts the door after he sends you off with a smile, not knowing that you omitted that you wore his hoodie a couple more times after washing (mostly due to the cold weather).

He drops off the paper bag on his bedroom floor before he heads off to his home lab.

Unfortunately, the extra 14 hours of sleep still doesn’t spark inspiration for his chemistry, and he ends up spending barely an hour in his lab, mostly tending to his flowers, before he decides to call it a day.

San is back in his bedroom, and he decides to unpack his hoodie from the paper bag. His hands reach into the bag and retrieve the hoodie, and when he unfolds the hoodie, his mind immediately hazes at the scent coming off the garment. Fuck. It’s even more prominent. It’s the scent that he can’t get out of his fucking head, and now it’s pretty much in his hands.

You smell like fucking heaven, San thinks, placing the outerwear under his nostrils once more, inhaling, the smell completely entering the crevices of his mind. He groans and curses at the way his erection is pushing against his pants just from your fucking smell. It’s more than just the detergent you use—it’s so much more intimate and intoxicating than that, and it’s undoubtedly driving San fucking crazy. He’s so sure that this is the scent that he’s been chasing after.

San walks over to his bed, comfortable on the mattress while he pushes his pants past his thick thighs, his cockhead pushing against his underwear, forming a dark and wet spot. He inhales shakily, teasing himself, the precum thickening and staining more of his underwear. It doesn’t take him long to kick off his sweats and underwear completely, letting his cock spring out with a relieved sigh, before he slowly starts fucking his hand while his other hand has his head filled with your pheromones.

The thought of you on that rainy evening, the way the rain had drenched your white shirt through, your bra showing, cupping your tits so fucking teasingly. San wonders if you did it on purpose because he would have just ripped your shirt open right then and there. His repressed fantasies begin to bubble up—the thought of him inviting you to his unit instead, letting his hands feel you up, making sure your goosebumps are from his touches rather than the cold because he swears he can warm you up quickly. He would press himself against you, taking in your scent, before he’d slip his hands underneath your pathetic white shirt, cupping your tits, then sliding your pants off—he knows he can’t even wait till the both of you reach his bedroom—the furthest the both of you would go? The fucking couch.

Your smell floats, and it’s dragging him deeper and deeper. San bucks his hips against his hand, soft moans pouring out his lips, whining your name against the fragrant garment, his precum turning thicker by the minute. He’s liked you ever since he met you when you first moved in, and now you’re filling up every part of his olfactory senses. He’s desperate to fill you up with him, make sure you’re holding your shirt up with your teeth, your eyes filling up with tears as he slams his cock into your warm pussy, over and over, forcing yourself to stay quiet so the neighbours don’t hear.

Fucking hell. San’s thighs shake slightly at the thought of it. He takes another inhale, and it’s like a dopamine reset once more, perfect at the moment when he’s bringing himself to the edge. Your voice echoes in his head, the pretty sounds you’d make, the expressions that he would indulge in for himself.

Thick streams of cum bubble from his silt, and he almost suffocates himself from the sick pleasure of burying his face in his hoodie drenched in your scent, he catches his breath as the scent slowly fades when he pulls the hoodie from his face, panting from an orgasm that he knows will never be enough one time.

As San washes off his high in the warm showers, he decides to attempt to recreate your scent, wanting to keep it all for himself. And he knows just a hoodie isn’t gonna be enough.

You’ve been flipping your apartment upside down, looking for your panties. At first, you didn’t notice that one pair went missing—chalking it off as you misplacing your laundry. But when the second one you swore you dropped off in the fresh laundry hamper disappears, along with a third, you realise something was amiss. You retrace your steps—you did have a couple of people over recently, but the majority of them were your girl friends, if you minus off how you and San have been going over to each other’s places for meals ever since the both of you exchanged phone numbers. Undoubtedly, your feelings for him have grown exponentially, especially when the both of you spent time with each other in (almost) close proximity. San had always been polite and helped around with cleaning up the dishes, and he had a very endearing habit of leaning in closer to you—whether to just tease you or to hear you better—it would never fail to make you act flustered around him before you would roll your eyes and push him away.

Needless to say, the relationship had blossomed since that rainy evening. You just didn’t expect to grow so close with your apartment complex crush, and while there were nights where San’s face, San’s voice, San’s body would bubble up to the surface when your orgasms washed over you, leaving you squirming and shy once the post nut clarity hit, you thought to yourself that the relationship between the both of you was good enough for now.

You scratch your head, racking your brains as to where your panties might have magically disappeared to. You’re lost in thought until the ping from your phone brings you out of it. You go over to check, and it’s from San—reminding you of dinner at his place. Right, the panties can wait for now.

“I hope I’m not late”, you smile as San opens the door for you to let you in. San returns it, “No, I just placed the order. It’s gonna take awhile.”

You take a seat on his couch. No matter how many times you’ve been to his place recently, you always feel that it’s still so spacious.

Then he breaks your train of thought.

“Is there something you’d like to do while waiting?” You let your eyes wander around his apartment again, and they land on the potted plants on his window sill.

Your eyes dart away from how San is staring down—his body is facing towards you, giving you his fullest, and it’s making you slightly self-conscious.

“I’m wondering what you’re always so busy with.”, you say. You’re ready to be rejected when San doesn’t answer right away. Right, it’s probably something personal to him too. But you can’t help but overthink when he doesn’t reply immediately sometimes. It makes you feel so childlike.

He stands up, gesturing you to follow him. “It’s a little embarrassing”, San replies as he guides you to the tightly shut door. He presses his fingertip onto the keypad—it lights up green and San pushes the door knob down, and the door pushes open.

It is as if it is another world. The lights are dim and the air is a lot cooler, albeit slightly more humid thanks to the myriad amount of plants littered around the room. He has so many species—differentcolours and different flowers. The scents hit you next, the floral scent floating around your nostrils at different intensities.

“A whole nursery?” You exclaim, walking near to some of the flowers.

“Yes and no. It’s more of a lab”, San corrects you, walking over to the heavy desk just full of lab equipment. “Sorry, it’s kinda messy.”

You shake your head, still taking in the sight of his botanically busy room, amazed.

As you near more of the equipment, the scents grow stronger. The whole lab smells so fragrant, and you’re surprised that it’s not overpowering, to say the least.

“So, what do you do here exactly?” You ask, taking another whiff of the fragrance while staring at the rows of test tubes before you.

“I make scents. It’s just a side hobby of mine on top of my research”, San explains. He picks up a test tube and gestures you to take a whiff, and so you do, pleasantly surprised at how much the scent smells just like him.

“Then what’s your little project now?”

San pauses. He doesn’t look you in the eye for that split second. As he parts his mouth to answer, the doorbell rings, and it jumps him out of his thoughts. The food is here.

Seated across San, as you always do, San is plating the takeout while you prepare the utensils. The topic of his lab comes up again, but you completely forget about asking about his projects.

Midway through the conversation, the rice cake that you were trying to eat somehow slips off the utensil and drops onto your clothes, causing you to jump in surprise, somehow toppling your plate with the leftover sauce, on top of staining on your clothes, much to your dismay.

“Shit”, you curse, casting an irritated glance at the splatter on your clothes. The plate clatters on the floor. You stand there, slightly dumbfounded at the situation. You’re wondering if you should just head home to change out, considering that your unit isn’t too far from his. But before you have the chance to bring up that suggestion, San cuts you off.

“You can drop your clothes into the washing machine. In the meantime, you can borrow my hoodie. It should be on the clean laundry hamper.”

“San-“

He turns to you with a comforting smile. “It’s fine. Rice cake sauce isn’t the easiest to clean off when you leave it for too long. I’ll clean up the floor.”

You realise arguing with him isn’t work out in your favour, nor will it get the rice cake sauce off your clothes any quicker, so you decide to heed his words and head to his room.

Undressing yourself once you shut the door, you drop your soiled clothes into the washing machine. It was then you realise that you are pretty much naked, in Choi San’s fucking bedroom. Struggling to keep your head out of the gutter, you decide to focus on finding that damn grey hoodie. Your eyes scan his room, trying to search for the grey hoodie. And your eyes land on a thick-looking piece of garment on one of the laundry hampers. You walk over to pick it up.

You put his hoodie over, and there it is again—the spicy citrus smell. Choi San’s smell. Your thighs push against each other a little tighter this time. Then something in your peripherals catch your attention—a lace garment. You inch closer, and your heart drops.

It’s a pair of lace underwear.

Fuck. Is he seeing someone and he didn’t tell you? A thick lump forms in your throat.

And then it goes away when you start picking up another two more panties from the hamper, and the realisation hits you like a fucking truck—these are your fucking panties.

Things are not adding up in your brain, that’s for fucking sure.

At that moment, San bursts into the bedroom, and a panicked expression scribbled across his face. His eyes are blown wide open when they land on the three pairs of panties in your hands.

You stare back at him, almost mirroring his expression, the only difference being confusion for you instead.

The corner of San’s lips pull into a half smile. “Oops.”

“San, what’s the meaning of this?” You ask, feeling your face flush rapidly.

“Well”, San pauses. “you asked what scent I’m making next right? It’s yours.”

“My scent?” You echo back in question to him. San sighs, his shoulders relaxing as he inches closer to you, trapping you underneath him when you finally hit his bed.

“Yes, darling. Your scent”, his voice almost turning into a whisper, dropping octaves lower. “You’re so cruel—keeping something so intoxicating to yourself.”

You swallow hard. San’s eyes still reflect his usual gentle demeanor, but now it’s slowly being tinted with something else. Something more ominous. Despite that, it only draws you in, like a prey being slowly hypnotized by her predator. You should be shocked, terrified even, but the only thing streaming through the nerves of your brain is the internal begging for San to just eat you up right now.

You suddenly realise that the hoodie isn’t zipped up, the outerwear slipping down your arms. You remain still, your heartbeat slamming against your ribcage.

“You can run out of my apartment now. I’m giving you five seconds”, San tells you, and your mind is spinning at the thought of him even giving you a chance to leave.

Five seconds pass. You’re still staring up at the male above you, whose lips are curling into a satisfied smirk.

His fingers cup your jaw, and he tells you, “Open up.” Sparks splatter across your eyelids the moment his lips collide with yours. You pull him closer on instinct, the feeling of his thick erection behind the two layers of fabric sending you into an orbit on top of his tongue teasing yours. He pulls back, licking off the strings of saliva between the both of you. His gaze is locked onto yours.

“Please? Let me taste you. I promise I’ll make you feel so fucking good”, his request sounding more like a beg. Your mind is hazy. Choi San? In between your fucking legs? You swallow hard, and then you nod.

San lowers himself to your clothed cunt, his eyes shut in bliss when he presses himself against your pussy.

“Heaven”, is all he mutters, his eyes casting you a glazed expression that was definitely about to drive you fucking insane, before his fingers pull against the waistband of your panties, slipping them off you.

The moment you feel his tongue press against your pussy, your mind threatens to shut off. San is breathing heavily against your soaking pussy, taking in the sight, taste, and smell of what you’re finally giving to him. Every time your thighs jerk to shut at the sensation of his tongue licking you up, his hands push you open for him forcing you to take his tongue in your cunt, and it’s wiping out any remaining rational thoughts you didn’t even know you had.

Your fingers tug against his scalp, pushing your hips deeper onto his tongue, your back arched from how fucking good he feels. His tongue is lapping you up, teasing your clit over and over again once he hits the sweet spot, his fingers leaving imprints on your thighs when he hears you whine and moan his name.

All San can think about is how fucking amazing you taste—he knew it would be another fucking level than pressing his nose against the fabric of your panties and fucking into his hand for the past few weeks, but actually letting you fuck his face? He’s on fucking cloud nine.

His glazed-out eyes shift to look up at you, watching the way you’re squirming under him, the sounds of his wet tongue fucking you, tasting you, echoing around his room. Your cream and pussy are the only things he can register, and he wants to keep it for himself, forever.

“S-San-“, you cry out, your mind just threatening to blank out at every flick of his tongue. He’s building your orgasm at such a dangerous pace, and tears are pooling at the corners of your eyes when you feel something funny bubbling at the pit of your stomach. “I think I’m gonna fuck-“

“That’s it. Let it go for me. That’s a good fucking girl”, San encourages, before his tongue presses against your clit, giving you another lick before white washes over you, your cunt pulsing violently against his tongue from the sheer pleasure, then clear fluids splattering onto San’s pretty face—who seemed unfazed, considering he’s still lapping your cunt up, while you’re almost thrashing above him as the overstimulation starts to sink in. Your moans sound like cries when you beg him to stop. San doesn’t relent, and he only stops when he suddenly whimpers, switching over to kiss your thighs, decorating your plump flesh with love bites. He pushes a finger in, letting you stain and coat his fingers, enjoying your whines before he pulls out and towers over you.

“Fuck, if I’d known you’d taste this good, I would have stolen your panties sooner”, he mutters, cleaning his fingers with his tongue, desperate to taste you again.

You’re catching your breath from going through the most mind-blowing orgasm, watching San pulling his shirt over his head, and then slipping out of his sweats, your breath caught in your throat when his fat cock comes into view, thick and heavy, and covered in thick cum.

San’s fingers curl around your neck, and he lowers himself to litter kisses across your neck and jaw, it’s giving you goosebumps, your arms automatically wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.

He pauses right at the shell of your ear.

“I want to wear you over and over again. I want to lock you up in me—bottle you up so I can keep you for myself.”

“Then do it. I’m here for you to dip into your pretty little fantasies in, San.”

You swear you see something snap in the poor male, especially from the way he takes a deep inhale—shakily— before he parts your lips with his, leaving you breathless when your little steamy make-out session ends.

“You don’t know what you do to me, darling”, San cautions when he pulls back. His hair is tousled but fuck, he still looks so fucking good. “And I’m not stopping even if you’re screaming.”

Fuck.

He fucks his hand, soft sighs leaving his lips, as his cum dribbles down his length, before he lines up to your hole and pushes in easily.

You hear him groan above you, your eyes are fixated on the way he’s losing himself in your pussy, and your mind is finally growing blank the more his cock fills you up. He’s stretching you open so fucking good, filling you up to the hilt.

“You’re squeezing me so much, darling. Fuck. Are you fucking kidding me?” His eyebrows are scrunched, his hands holding your legs up while he lets you adjust to his cock.

But he doesn’t warn you before he starts moving, his impatience completely overriding any ounce of rationale he has left in him.

“So good. San, you feel so fucking good”, your moans sounding like cries whenever his hips snap against yours, the obscene sounds only adding to the tension.

“You take me so fucking well, darling”, San’s voice is ringing in your ears. “Look at your fucking pussy just swallowing me up like that.”

You don’t even reply to that, your eyes are rolled to the back of your head, and your head is somewhere in fucking heaven where San is definitely fucking you into.

Just when you feel that you were about fucking fall apart on his cock, he pulls out, and you barely manage to catch your breath when San instructs you to turn over. You do, your ass up for him, and he enters your cunt once more, before fucking into you from the back. You don’t fucking know how, but you swear that his cock feels even thicker from the back.

His hands press against your hips, fucking you deep before he lets his hands slide down your body and he stops at your neck, gesturing you to look up at him as he leans down to press his lips against yours—all while rearranging your guts from the back.

He lets you pull back when you feel your neck is growing sore, and then he puts his body weight onto you, his arm tucking underneath your neck.

“Such a good fucking girl for me. You feel so fucking amazing”, San whispers, tickling every crevice of your brain as he presses his nose against the curve between your neck and shoulder, his thrusts turning more like ruts. The arm lock around your neck isn’t cutting off oxygen thankfully, but the thought of him choking you out only drags you closer to your high.

“Cumming, I’m cumming San-“, you whimper, tears trickling from your eyes from how much his cock is constantly hitting in such deep fucking spots of your pussy.

“Me too, babe. Gonna fill you up so nice and good, that’s what you’d like, right?” San teases, his cock twitching in you before he groans, his warm cum filling you up so good right at the same time your orgasm hits you once more, making you squeeze even more cum from San, perfectly milking him dry in your pussy.

“So fucking perfect”, you hear San mutter, and you can’t help but flush, even though he just fucked every ounce of sanity out of you. His lips trail down the nape of your neck, his eyes are locked onto you, hazy and tinted with a hint of a growing obsession you could never tell.

He’s not letting go of you.

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez smut #smut #ateez fic #kpop smut #choi san smut #choi san ateez #ateez choi san #choi san x reader #choi san #san ateez #ateez san #san x y/n #san network #Spotify

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zozosrozo · 7 days ago

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Choi Su-bong/Thanos (Squid Game) x fem! reader HCS

IM OBSESSED WITH THIS MAN!!!!!

also first ever post?! it’s a little short, but hope ya enjoy!!

SFW:

• he ADORES physical touch

• touching u at every chance he gets, like even simple hand holding, leaning against u

• HE LOVES IT ESPECIALLY WHEN IT COMES FROM U!!

• casually grabs u by ur ass in public, or give u a lil slap. when u confront him about it, he acts like he dont know what are u talking about, then giggle

• using ur breast like fidget toy, when he’s stressed

• squeezing it, when he feels like it

• shoving his head between ur boobs, bro can stay like that for a good 10 minutes until he calms down

• if u ask him if he would still love u as a worm, he would tell u that he’s not a zoophile

• pet names!! baby, babe, princess are his favs!

• he’s not so good with commitment and stuff like that, would prefer an open relationship (one sided tho, he's so possesive of u)

• have huge jealousy issues when it comes to u

• a male species near u??? he goes into rage mode, getting aggressively touchy to claim u! show everyone that u are his!!

• would apologise to u with rap songs

“Y/N” he screamed outside your house. throwing rocks at the window to wake u up.

“what the fuck…” u muttered to yourself, as u walked over to the window to check what this idiot come up with this time.

as soon as he saw your face, he screamed again, his hands clutching onto his chest “SEÑORITA!!! I WANT TO APOLOGISE TO U!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!! U DO REALISE THAT ITS 3 AM RIGHT NOW???” u screamed back at him, slightly leaning forward through window.

“I LOVE U!!!!!” he get on his knees.

“ARE U HIGH?????” u asked, clearly pissed at his presence.

“HI!!!!!” he said as he waved his hands to u, enthusiastically with a goofy grin.

even after this response, u can’t tell if he’s high. that’s pretty much how he’s acting regardless if he’s on drugs or not.

he turn on boombox, a cliche beat hit your ears. he stands up and cleared his throat.

“Yo, I messed up, I admit it, I’m a clown,

Flirting like a fool when you weren’t around.

But I swear, it was harmless, just a slip of the tongue,

Now I’m here confessing where I went wrong.

I told her, "Hey, nice shoes," and that’s all I meant,

But now I’m in the doghouse, paying the rent.

Baby, you’re the star, the queen of my heart,

And that other conversation? A throwaway part.

She laughed at my joke, yeah, I felt kinda cool,

But now I see, I was the class clown fool.

I’d never trade you for some silly chat,

You’re the boss, the CEO, I’m just the doormat.

I’ll buy you flowers, write your name in the sky,

Sing off-key if it’ll dry your eyes.

I’ll even quit drugs if you need me to,

Just don’t leave me hangin’, I’m a mess without you.

So baby, I’m here, on my knees with this beat,

Admitting my crimes, can’t handle defeat.

Let’s laugh this off, put it in the past,

‘Cause you and me, girl, we’re built to last.”

he end up the song showing a small heart formed with his thumb and index finger.

u sighed “all right, come inside”

“YAYY!!!” he did a happy jump and clapped his feet in midair.

• tbh he’s so silly

• steals flowers from a random garden for u

• night visits, but uses a window instead of a door to enter ur place, literally like some kind of teenager

• even if u gave him the keys to ur apartment, he will use the window no matter what

it was dark outside, about 11 pm. u were coming back from work. damn how exhausted u felt. some arguments with clients, boss yelling at u. it was not ur best day for sure.

u checked ur phone. still no text from Thanos. why he was ghosting u? probably he don’t want to deal with ur complains about how bad ur day went.

u opened the apartment door. u don't give a damn about anything. you plan to go to bed right away, you don't have the strength to change your clothes, wash yourself or eat something.

you threw everything aside and went to the bedroom. when you turn on the light in the room, you see your boyfriend lying on his side, resting his head on his hand, rose in his teeth.

“U WANT TO GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK???” u flinched. u can’t get used to Thanos randomly spawning in ur house.

“and i missed u too, princess” he grinned, standing up and then theatrically hand over the rose to u.

“i brought ur fav burgers and lotta beer” he said, pointing out at ur kitchen.

“thanks” u smiled softly at him. u can’t help but melt inside at his behaviour. he’a an asshole, but what a cute asshole.

“no problem, babe” he leaned to u, giving u a tight hug. burying his face in the crook of ur neck.

• avoids deep emotional conversation

• would tell that he loves u, but he don’t put much weight into that

• he’s saying it casually like it’s common sense that he loves u

• painting each others nails!!!!

NSFW:

• pansexual king, but he wouldn’t label himself

• he don’t care about gender, he fucks who he consider as cute and that’s it!!

• when u ride him, he would comment something like: WROOM WROOM!! or YEEHAW!!!

• A TOTAL FREAK….

• piss kink (y’all can’t prove me wrong)

• HE LIKES IT DIRTY!!!!

• public sex

• like fingering u in a club or on a party, sometimes anal when he's high

• claiming u like that in front of other people?? IT TURNS HIM ON SO BADD

• never a sub, it would hurt his ego

• bro don’t know what gentle sex is

• always rough and aggressive

• smokes weed/cigarettes during sex, blowing smoke in your face

• talking about himself in third person "yeah, babe. the great Thanos will make u feel so good”

“u like that slut? u like Thanos’s dick that much??”

• he’s not into after care. usually he just rolls down on bed, doesn't even bother putting on clothes, hug u tightly and fall asleep like that

#squid game #squid game x reader #thanos squid game #thanos x reader #choi su bong #choi su bong x reader

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pupkashi · 1 year ago

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oranges

gojo knows how to peel oranges

a/n: just something simple inspired by the poem oranges by jean little, i cried the first time i read it, hope you guys enjoy <3

wordcount: 843

masterlist

there was a lot you did for satoru.

you helped ground him, reminded him to drink water, made him food, taught him how to fold clothes and do laundry, showed him all your favorites- from places to eat and videos to play.

you reminded him what love felt like, your tender touches late at night, gentle thumb pads wiping away hot tears, soft whispers and proclamations of love.

satoru always wondered what he did for you.

he didn’t think much of the quality time he’d spend with you, he thought that was a given. he often brushed past the shower of compliments he gave you daily, figuring that was the standard. the little gestures of holding doors open, buying you flowers, remembering your favorite candle scent and buying your shampoo seemed too natural to him for it to be considered and outward act of love.

“you want some oranges?” you asked, looking at him with a smile from the kitchen.

“i could go for some oranges” he replies, getting up from the couch and joining you in the kitchen, taking an orange in his hand.

his thumbs easily tear into through the peel, gently digging his finger and separating it seamlessly from the sweet fruit, continuing his motion until the peel comes completely off, all in one piece.

you on the other hand, are putting too much force into your thumb, your finger piercing straight into the flesh of the fruit, shrieking when the juice gets on your face a bit.

“how do you always peel it so neatly? i have never once been able to” you huff, setting the now punctured Orange on a towel, washing your hands in the sink before drying them off.

“cmon sweetheart it really isn’t that hard!” satoru grins, taking your orange and easily peeling it apart neatly. ��you have to do this, and then… get it there and boom!” his smile widening as he stares at you, a pout on your lips and an annoyed look in your eyes.

“yeah yeah mr. ‘I’m so good at everything’” you tease, tasking the orange from his hand and munching on a piece. “they’re sweet today” you smile, putting both your pieces and satoru’s in a bowl, heading back to the couch the two of you were on.

two weeks later the two of you are cooking dinner, reading off the recipe and realizing the dish called for an orange.

“can you hand me an orange?” you ask, turning around and thanking him as he hands it to you. you were determined to not make a mess this time, it’s just an orange after all.

but as gentle as you were, the peel wouldn’t budge, and the little force you applied proved to be just a little too much as your fingers pierced through the flesh again. you groaned in frustrations satoru already taking it from his hands, a smile on his face as he so easily peeled it.

“coulda just asked” he hums, handing you the orange, you’re glaring at him, giggling when he misses your nose.

“thank you angel boy,” you mumble, chopping the orange and adding it in.

one year later you’re sitting together in a grassy field, the wild blowing past the two of you, your laughter and love filled gazes scattered in the wind.

“i got some oranges from the market today!” you grin, taking them out of the wicker basket and showing them to your snowy haired lover. “you owe me breakfast in bed if i can finally peel this damn citrus fruit” you wager, satoru easily sitting back, a small smirk on his face as he nodded.

“I’ll do so breakfast in bed for a month if you peel it in one piece” your eyes widen at his proposition, nodding before looking at the fruit in your hands.

it’s only ten seconds later that you’re throwing yourself back, saying the fruit was obviously defective because ‘there’s no way the peel was that easy to cut through!’

satoru takes the oranges from you, peeling them perfectly and separating them into neat sections.

“I’m glad i have you to peel my citrus” you smile one night, taking the mandarin slices from his hand and humming in delight as the sweet taste hits your tastebuds.

“I’ll always peel your oranges for you” he replies, voice soft, his blue eyes seem a little lighter and his face a bit more relaxed as he looks at you.

it’s been years since then, and you never learned to peel oranges, the times you’d attempt to, juice would get everywhere and the peel coming off in chunks, the aftermath looked like an orange massacre.

satoru’s heart flutters when he sees the citrus fruit, knowing you’ll hand it to him, for him to peel for you. he knows you’ll always ask him to do this for you.

satoru is grateful everyday that you can’t peel oranges, because with the boundless things you do for him, he knows this is the one thing he’ll always be able to do for you.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

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agirlwithglam · 21 days ago

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a quote taken from buy yourself the damn flowers by Tam Kaur!

#agirlwithglam🎀✨#tam kaur #flowers #it girl #buy yourself the damn flowers #self love #self love tips #self care #quote #book #book quote #self loving

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emmyrosee · 11 months ago

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this is for the non curse bf!sukuna

when you first start going out he wouldn’t know what flowers to get you. he could ask you but- who tf asks their gf ‘hey what flowers do you like?’ he thinks that’s lame. so guy brings 5-6 diff flowers just for you.

can you imagine, him all tattooed and brooding buying you flowers in a pretty flower shop😭😭i’m crying :((((((

OKAY BUT IF HE DOES IT TO LIKE, ASK YOU TO BE HIS GF???

Like originally he was just going to take you out on a few dates, enjoy the company and yuuji and his Ma off his back, but that plan crumbled when he started to be the one to text you first. When he started to initiate dates. When he started to feel butterflies in his chest when you laughed.

Yuuji so graciously told him he had feelings and should cuff you before you get tired of him, and the idea swirls for a bit in Sukuna’s head before one night at four am, he storms into yuuji’s room and in a pure panic asks “how do I ask her out?”

Yuuji grumbles and throws a pillow at his brother, “flowers and candy, go back to bed.”

But Ryomen does anything but. Because there’s so many flowers and so many candies, how will he know which is your favorite? And as much as he’d love to ask you, it would ruin the surprise of being so excited at being his girlfriend that you’d have to say yes- a little manipulative, perhaps, but he’s not perfect despite what he says.

So he kinda goes… crazy.

He buys you all sorts of candy, everything from sour to chocolate, to even some cotton candy grapes and gummy bear watermelon and more candy flavored candy, all to put in a small bag that dangles from his thick wrist.

Next is the flower shop, and that’s even more stressful because how is he supposed to pick between roses and peonies and assorted and god knows what other breeds of flowers there are- one time, as a kid, he saw yuuji give a little boy a fistful of yellow dandelions, can’t he just do that?

According to the swipe of his credit card after picking out seven bouquets…. No. Apparently not.

He lugs everything out to his car with grunts of efforts, texting you telling you to be home because the smell of flowers is making him nauseous and the candy is probably melting in the warmth of the sun.

SENT please tell me you’re home?

Schnookums (god he needs to change that, why’d you ever put yourself as something so feral in his phone?) why, you coming over??

SENT no I’m making conversation

Of course that question means I’m coming over

Schnookums yayyyy okay 🥺💙

He scoffs before making a floor to your house, nerves making him speed a little too fast and almost run a few too many red lights, and he’s grateful that the cops he passed have mercy on him and let him get to your house without a ticket or handcuffs.

He gathers his bundle back in his arms and blindly makes his way up your driveway, using the sheer grace of the gods watching over him to not trip and crush everything under him. He sneezes god knows how many times, and once he’s finally at your door, he doesn’t know how long it takes him to knock successfully, but after 5 tries, he finally nails it.

And after a few short seconds, you open the door with a gasp of excitement. “What did you do!”

“I wasn’t- fuck!” The flowers start to slip as he tries to peer over them to look at you. You’re quick to make a move to help him catch them. “Fuck. God damn it. Ugh.” He clears his throat, “I wasn’t sure what flowers to get, so… I bought them all.”

“Whats in the bag?”

“An absolutely feral amount of sweets.”

You’re beaming at him, so excited between the gesture and seeing him that you immediately toss your arms around him, the crinkling of the bouquets being what snaps you back to life.

“Ah shit.”

“Sorry! Sorry!! I just… this is so sweet,” you say, smiling.

“Well, I uhh…. I wanted… you and I’ve been kinda… going out for a while….”

“Yeah?” You ask, and with the way your eyes widen and jaw slacks slightly, you know what he’s going to ask.

And he knows you’re going to make him do it.

“And I really… really have enjoyed it.” He takes a deep breath, “not sure why, but-“

“Shut up,” you snicker.

“But I kinda… want to do it. More. And… not let you do it with other people.”

“Okay,” you giggle.

“And I’m told the only way to do that is to make you my girlfr-“

“YES!” You scream, wrapping your arms around him again, and when he makes a noise of protest, you grab the flowers to put them on the ground, hugging him again tightly.

Tightly enough his organs hurt and his breath can’t get into his body, but this feels so right, so good and so comforting that he’d let you do it forever. He kisses your head and cradles it, letting the bag rest against your back.

“I can’t believe you went through all this trouble for me,” you murmur against him.

He chuckles, “don’t thank me too much yet. We still need to find vases for all of these because I’ll be damned if I let my kind gesture die within twelve hours.”

“I don’t even know if I own a vase.”

He stiffens, and you snicker in his grip.

“Well then I hope your don’t like your kitchen sink too much.”

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amostnobleyandere · 4 months ago

Text

Persephone, Swept Away Into the Deep

Yandere! Wriothesley x GN! Reader

Summary: You’re a florist who catches the eye of the Duke, ruler of the underworld in Fontaine—and as the object of his affection, there’s nothing you can do to avoid your fate.

Warning(s): yandere, toxic behavior, possessive behavior, mention of blood, violence (Wriothesley beats someone up), stalking, obsessive behavior, unjust execution of the law, possessive behavior, corrupt official Wriothesley (?), drugging (needle injection), kidnapping, captivity, implied stalking, non-consensual touching, forced romantic relationship

A/N: I’m not sure if I did a good job at translating the themes ✨ of the hades and Persephone myth (however slight they may be in this particular fanfic) but I tried ;)

—————————

Every happy customer that came out of your shop would inevitably spread your business through tongue—that’s just the way things worked in Fontaine.

Of course, you weren’t complaining. You were running a thriving business and their lively conversations often brought you joy and pride. The little gardener on off of main street, the florist who sells the most beautiful bouquets you’ve ever seen, the flower shop tucked away like a hidden gem, they’d say, fondness in their tone and the echo of good memories in their minds.

You were proud of the lifestyle you had made for yourself and the reputation you had garnered. Your natural green thumb had made your shop quite popular among commoners and socialites alike, as anyone of any class could stroll inside to find something for a person precious to them; whether it was a child, a spouse, a friend, or an infatuation, you had helped mold their stories, crafting and shifting them around petals and bows.

Though some days, you let yourself dream. Of petals and bows, not meant for someone else, but meant for you. Though your business had seen many love stories, its owner had yet to find a love of their own.

On your worst days, you scoffed and thought to yourself about how ironic your life was.

But…some days, your aching romantic heart would have you sighing wistfully as you watched customer after customer buy carefully cultivated blooms to gift to their beloved. They would leave gleefully, only for you to remain in your shop, watching them walk out with a piece of you. A piece that you wanted to give to your own special someone.

Always watching, never experiencing.

And then suddenly, everything you had built was being torn down by the one thing you desired the most.

—————————

On a day that was insultingly ordinary considering the damning events that followed it, you were sitting in your shop, furiously pruning flowers and cutting stems and leaves. You were a little behind in work, so you had kept your shop open later than you usually would.

A festival was going to be thrown at the center of the city, and that meant you were busier than ever. Business was slow at the time, but it always picked up during events, as it was common for people to take advantage of the merry mood and ask out the apple of their eye, or propose, or buy a bouquet just to enjoy life.

And your bouquets were certainly beautiful, as you had heard from the many couples that walked into your shop, fawning over the arrangements and each other. You were sure you would see many lovers come into your shop once the joyous celebrations began.

You sighed, feeling the solitude of the your profession begin to seem depressing. It made you happy knowing your creations would be appreciated, yet, you knew the festival would end up torturing your heart with the same stale loneliness you often felt.

Friends had invited you to come with them to enjoy the festival together, so you weren’t all alone. Ultimately, you had declined.

Business would be booming.

…Plus, it wouldn’t be as special if you couldn’t go with someone special. It would only hurt to go out into the bustling streets and to see all those people holding hands, touching arms, carrying your bouquets, while your side was cold and your hands were empty…

You snipped at a rainbow rose a little too hard, hissing as the tip of the shears nicked your finger. You watched in mild panic and exasperation as the blood began to fill the small cut, feeling a sting form in your finger. Reaching for the medical kit you kept close by, you swiftly treated and bandaged yourself, watching the gauze go from white to a bright red.

Shaking your head, you waved away the pain and your nasty thoughts. You were sure your friends would be fine without you and, more than anything, you needed to be here to sell your flowers. It would be a waste to throw out your beautiful blooms because you let them wither, and soon customers would be grabbing for them…and who knows? Maybe you might meet someone.

Maybe you would even find someone to enjoy the festival with….

You heard the telltale ding of a bell and looked up, peaking out from behind the wall of floral remains you had constructed around yourself.

A man walked into the shop, and the first thing you noticed is that he was handsome. And big. Like, slightly intimidating big. A large, built stature, with broad shoulders and heavy boots on long legs. You pinched yourself, feeling your cheeks slightly heat up. Who were you to get flustered? And by a stranger? Pull it together.

“Hello!” You greeted cheerily, thankfully turning on your usual customer service voice without problem. “How can I help you today?”

“You’re still open?” The man asked, a note of surprise in his voice. The question sounded weirdly familiar for it to be spoken by a stranger, but you chose to ignore it. Plenty of people knew your hours, it wouldn’t be odd for one of them to send a new customer over.

You paused, taking him in. The stranger was tall, dark, and brooding, a person that looked strangely out of place in your little safe haven that was crammed to the brim with mosaics of colorful flora.

However, his eyes were the clearest color you had ever seen. They were like steel in their cool quickness, taking seconds to size you up. You unconsciously shrunk under the pressure of his gaze. Still, you smiled up at him.

“Yes, sir. We’re still open. What can I get for you?”

“Well, to tell you the truth, I’m not exactly sure. I came here because of a recommendation; they say you’re the best in town, with the freshest flowers. I’m guessing you outsource from the country?”

“No, sir. I grow them myself.” You said, still smiling sweetly.

A flash of recognition behind those steel eyes. “Ah. You’re the owner then?”

“Yes, sir.”

He hummed, looking away in thought. “I’d like an all blue bouquet—something with an air of delicacy to it. Nothing too fancy, just something pretty and light.”

That sounded…really romantic. Delicate? Pretty? Those were words people used to describe bouquets with romantic intentions behind them. You had heard them time and time again, as you carefully put together arrangements and your customer fawned over the person it was for, tone sugary sweet. Those words never failed to clog up your chest with a bitter jealously.

A feeling of disappointment filled your chest and your heart sank. Of course, he was already going with someone. It seemed that everyone, except for you, had a date for the festival. Of course. That made sense. Anyone that good looking would most likely have a date—

You smiled, sweeping away the disappointment and putting back on a false merry face. You had just met this man, really. What was there to be sad about? You decided to fill the silence that was quickly making you want to curl up into a ball and hide.

“So you’ve got a date for the festival? I’m sure they’ll love it, since you seem to know what they’ll like. Can I get a name for the order?”

“Wriothesley. And, no. I haven’t got a date.”

Your brain short circuited.

“But you’re so good looking?” You blurted out, the thought in your head coming out of your mouth without warning.

Wriothesley looked momentarily stunned, and you wanted to scream. Of all the times to embarrass yourself in front of a cute guy, it had to be now—

“A-Ah!” You stuttered out. “I’m sorry! Sometimes my mouth moves faster than my brain! I just said what I was thinking, I hope you’re not insulted by it…or uncomfortable….not that I meant to insult you—“

He laughed, the sound startling you. When he looked at you again, he seemed less guarded, his eyes shining with mirth as he gazed at you with interest. Oh, and that smile. Oh wow. That. Wow.

“You know, people are usually too afraid to say stuff like that to my face. Or really, they’re too afraid to say anything to my face. Guess I was just lucky to meet you today, huh?” He grinned and let his voice drop as he spoke. The glint in his eyes turned bright, like a dancing flame. He leaned into your space, letting one arm rest on the counter.

You felt the smooth words roll down your back and over your skin, excitement or fear (or maybe a mix of both) running up your spine and through the rest of your body.

You laughed, trying to play off his words as if they were meant to be friendly. (At least, you thought they were meant to be friendly.) Maybe the naturally deep tone of his voice and his intimidating aura made your brain misinterpret harmless words as…predatory.

You grinned. “Well, I don’t know about luck, but everyone deserves a compliment every once in a while, right?”

He leaned back, that dangerous glint disappearing into his eyes as if it was never there. He crossed his arms, looking smug.

“Right.”

Silence filled the air again, and your curiosity got the best of you quickly.

“Goodness, I’m sorry but who is this for then?”

He chuckled and you were immediately relieved that he wasn’t annoyed with you. People didn’t like it when others pried into their business. The thought of Wriothesley with his leather boots, pretty face, and icy eyes glaring at you with disdain nearly sent you into shock.

“It’s for…a co-worker, you could say.” He continued. “She does a lot for me and I thought it might be nice to get her a gift to show my appreciation. Everyone’s in a good mood with the festival coming around, so I might as well, you know?” He smiled. “Sorry to disappoint you, though. No romantic feelings involved.”

You nodded, a weird feeling of relief filling your chest after finding out that a man you didn’t know and that you probably would never see again did not have a date for the festival.

Maybe you were just glad to know that you wouldn’t be the only person going without a partner.

You began to gather sample flowers, spreading them out between you fingers and taking comfort in the familiar weight of them in your hands.

“Not disappointed at all.” I’m also single, you thought, but thankfully didn’t say out loud. “I guess I’ve just gotten so used to lovebirds walking into my shop, I was surprised you weren’t one of them.”

“Because of my face?” He asked, amusement seeping into his tone. You wanted to smack that smile right off of his smug, beautiful face. Of course, you wouldn’t, because that would be a crime to everyone else who had eyes. You couldn’t mess up that piece of art.

You nodded, your face burning. “Because of your face.” You confirmed.

“Well, I’m flattered.” He said.

You thrusted the sample flowers out in front of you, mortified that he was making your already embarrassing situation worse with teasing.

“Pick out the ones you like.” You said, your face practically on fire.

He did, without further comment at that, but a smirk pulled at his lips the entire time. He looked at you, with that grin molded onto his perfect lips, more than he did the flowers in your hands.

He refrained from torturing you with teasing remarks for the rest of the conversation, and when you told him it would be ready for pick up in a few hours, he gently placed a bag of mora on the counter.

Only when he was walking out the door did you realize how much mora he had given you.

Your eyes bulged as you peeked into the bag, nearly fainting at the amount. Who carries this much on them?! What if he had gotten robbed?! Well, he would probably never get robbed looking like…that, but still.

“Hey!! Wait—Sir!! You gave me way too much!”

He waved as he closed the door behind him, the bell ringing cheerily as he ignored you protests without even turning around.

You stood gaping behind the counter. You turned to the bag, determinedly picking out the correct amount and putting the rest away so that you could throw it at him when he came back. Not his face, though. Never his face.

A few hours later, he came back, his face neutral and undisturbed, like nothing in the world could move him to react.

He saw you, and his expression twitched and changed, looking just as smug as when he left.

You wordlessly pushed his bouquet, which you had worked extra hard on out of spite, not because you wanted him to like it or anything, towards him. Again, without saying anything, you pushed the bag of mora back towards him.

He quirked an eyebrow but kept his mouth shut, also determined to win the quiet challenge that you had started. He (rather cheekily) slid the bag back towards you, a smile fighting to pull onto his face.

You, more forcefully this time, slid the bag back towards him, face betraying no emotion.

Eyes sparking with amusement, he held out his hand.

Oh my Archons. You thought. What does that mean? He doesn’t want to….does he? You hesitatingly raised your hand in response, suspicious of the man in front of you. He gently slid his hand under yours, making your heart pound in your rib cage. His gloves covered most of his hand, but the skin that did touch you was startlingly cold. Your skin downright tingled where his touched yours.

Whether it was from the temperature or just him, you didn’t know.

He placed the bag of mora in your hands, a graceless plop and a cheerily jingle sounding through the quiet room.

Okay. You take it back. This mora was going directly at his face.

“This mora is going right at your face.”

“What?”

“What?” You parroted. Inside, you were crying. The first time you’ve ever threatened a customer and it’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

He chuckled, the sound low and deep and long and archons even his laugh sounded angelic.

“I could’ve sworn you just—“

“I didn’t.” You cut him off, panicking. You pushed the bouquet towards him, hiding behind it. “Enjoy your day. Thank you for your purchase. Have fun at the festival.”

“…Thanks.” He said, still amused, but following your lead and taking the flowers from your waiting hands. For a moment, maybe on purpose, his hands brushed yours, the touch sending a spark of electricity up and down your arms, making your heart beat faster….Must have been the cold from his skin, sending you into shock or something.

He left the shop (without the bag of mora) and you wistfully thought that you would never see that beautiful face again, kicking yourself for not asking him out. You were both single, right? Right??

Ultimately, you went home with the same familiar wistful feeling that soon turned to giddiness at having almost held hands with such a handsome man—his personality was odd but that could be overlooked.

Overall, it was a good day.

——————————

Except he was there the next day.

And the next.

….And the next.

Everyday he would order a bouquet of a different color. Once he ran out of colors, he began grilling you on what kinds of flower combinations you liked best. You would tell him, practically shaking while trying to prevent yourself from imploding, and that’s what he would order. He spent an enormous amount of money at your shop as the ridiculous mora bag battles continued (you were going to throw it at his face, you really were. You just needed to muster up the courage).

He would take the flowers home, and you would be left with a burning face and a quivering heart.

Then one day he asked you if you would like to go out. With him. Together. And you said yes, tying a bow around his order with trembling hands as a strangling giddiness filled up your entire chest.

So, you went to the festival with him right after work.

For the first time in weeks you were closing the shop and stepping out into the fresh air during the middle of the day.

You had an amazing time.

You found out that Wriothesley was extremely funny, and that his dry, sarcastic wit could have you doubling over and laughing in seconds. You found out that he liked tea like, a lot. Like a concerning amount. You found out that the co-worker he gave the first of many bouquets to is a melusine and a nurse. You found out that he talked to the Chief Justice regularly and somehow knew a lot of important people.

You explained to Wriothesley that you actually did have a life outside of flowers. You told him about your friends, your hobbies, and whatever else you could think of in the moment, feeling comfortable with him after just a few hours together.

He bought you food, somehow correctly guessing your tastes at every stall you visited. When you protested and offered to buy him something in return, he merely shook his head with a smile and said you could buy him lunch another day.

You walked together through the streets under golden lights, eating delicious food and buying trinkets. At the end of the night, you tentatively inched your hand toward his, and he interlaced your fingers together, holding your warm palm against his cold one tightly.

You felt yourself grinning like an idiot, thinking that absolutely nothing could change the way you were feeling.

Everything was going great until you got back to your shop, laughing and chatting idly with the man beside you.

Your heart stopped as you realized that something was wrong, and your hand left Wriothesley’s for the first time that night as you ran towards the open door.

The entire place had been ransacked. The money in the cash register was gone. Your precious flowers—countless blooms that you had taken the time to grow and cut had either been stolen or trampled on. One window had been smashed in with a brick. You lifted up your foot, feeling the shattered glass break into smaller shards under the pressure—Archons, it was everywhere. Luckily, the small vault you keep most of your savings in was still closed but dented in multiple places and on its side.

You nearly collapsed on the floor right then and there. It was only Wriothesley, who caught you as you were falling to the ground, that kept you from completely breaking down. You were mourning. All of your flowers. All of your hard work, ripped from your hands, without so much as a warning.

You felt rage and misery burn in your chest, resulting in hot tears running down your face as you pathetically picked up the ruined flowers scattered across the shop floor. Next to you, shadow cast Wriothesley’s face in darkness, hiding his expression from view. You heard him assure you that he would take care of it, that he would fix all of this for you, as he told you not to worry in that perpetually assertive tone of his. Your muddled and distressed mind immediately clung onto it like a life line, desperate for something to ground you.

Wriothesley would take care of it, you told yourself. If not him, then who would help you?

—————————

You found out soon after that the man who had robbed you was a rival store owner whose business had gone under ever since you had moved in. His storefront was situated on one of the more populated streets, streets that saw more foot traffic and that attracted customers of a higher class. Still, he had been losing to you, a small shop on some nowhere street, for months. In the end, arrogance and jealousy had driven him to attempt destroying your business.

Whether it be from fear and intimidation, or hopelessness from losing all the money you had made in the past couple months, he had hoped that you would chose to pack up and leave after he ruined the inside of your shop.

Fortunately, he was not a master criminal. A few shop owners on your street had seen his face and identified him to the guards. According to rumors you had heard from friends, he fought the guards during his arrest, shouting that he was not some lowly commoner to be pushed around. The guards and some mysteriously clothed people flooded around him, dragging him to the court house and sentencing him within the hour. He was allowed to go back to his shop, as his home was above it, but was put on house arrest for the time being and had guards stationed outside of every window to await further punishment.

It had happened so…quickly.

Wriothesley, during all of this, was very supportive.

—————————

It all came crashing down on the last night of the festival, a week after you had been robbed.

You were in the process of walking home before you realized that you had left your keys in your bag.

…Which was at the shop.

…That you would have to go back to.

Groaning, you made yourself turn around and trek back towards the storefront so that you could actually get into your house.

As you walked down the main strip of stalls and shops, you realized with a bitter heart that you would have to pass the shop of the man who made your life hell to get there and back quickly. You were glad that he had been caught and sentenced swiftly, but you were still incredibly angry about the damage that had been done to your business. The mental and emotional wounds left from the shock of seeing everything you had worked for destroyed were still fresh.

You fastened your pace as the night lamps began to turn on, the sky quickly turning dark as they became your only source of light. You knew the city was mostly a safe place to live, but that didn’t mean crime never happened, and it would be just your luck for you to get robbed a second time.

Then there was shouting.

You slowed your pace as you heard a voice echo off the tall buildings, only amplifying the panicked screams.

Uh oh. Had you walked right into a crime scene?

You looked around you, noticing that there were no guards in sight. Hopefully they had noticed the trouble and were taking care of it.

You sighed. You really needed to get into your house, as you weren’t too keen on sleeping on a bench for the night. Cursing whatever being had brought this upon you, you continued forward, walking in the shadows and hoping to avoid whatever drama was happening near the home of the man who had robbed you.

You turned a corner, freezing as you took in the sight of a group of men huddled together, seemingly trying to apprehend someone—

Wait. Was that—

You recognized that figure—those boots—that coat…

What was your boyfriend doing here in the middle of the night?

Swiftly, you moved back out of the light, eyes trained on the man you could now clearly recognize. You watched as Wriothesley raised his fist, his knuckles connecting harshly with someone’s jaw. You startled at the harsh noise of skin splitting skin.

You felt yourself flinch as blood splattered across the pavement. For a moment, you were grateful for the imposing figures blocking your view of the violent scene.

The victim was splayed across the stone due to the force of the blow, thrown right into the circle of people that had formed around him, pathetically whimpering as he tried to pick himself up.

You watched as he was dragged away, looking genuinely terrified, screaming bloodcurdling words as he went mad with fear. His pleas fell on deaf ears as those around him stood still, Wriothesley silently watching as he was picked up and thrown into the back of a carriage. The door squealed as he yelled that he didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve to go to the Fortress of Meropide, please—doors slamming shut, cutting off his final sentence as the men and the carriage disappeared into the night.

Wriothesley stood under a street light, a short distance away from where you hid in the shadows. His body was tense, his back drawn tight as he gazed at the retreating carriage, with the man he had assaulted and doomed to a life in prison lying within.

You stumbled back, you feet scuffling against the pavement. The noise sounded like an explosion in the dead quiet of the street.

His entire body stilled. He turned around, almost in slow motion, his eyes widening in horror as your gazes met.

You spun on your heel and ran, heart pounding in your chest. Heavy footfalls followed you, leather hitting stone with threatening thumps that seemed to get closer to you with every passing second.

You got to your shop, flinging open the door and rushing to the back of the building, heading towards the closet where you kept all of your supplies. Hearing the bell above your door chime mockingly, signaling that Wriothesley was in your shop oh Archons, you slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside.

For some reason, you could have never imagined him being so violent. You were shocked and terrified, seeing your new boyfriend, who you had only ever thought of as safe, as anything but. Now you knew. He was dangerous. You were so stupid for trusting a complete stranger—

You heard him run towards your hiding place, calling out to you as the heavy foot falls slowed to a stop.

“Y/N.” He said, voice calm and level, betraying no emotion at all. It was like he was discussing the weather and hadn’t just chased you down the street.

Your breathe hitched in your throat. Somewhere, in your frayed mind, you hoped, prayed he would just go if you were quiet enough—

“I never meant for you to see that. I’m sorry. Let me explain.”

The doorknob began to turn. It stopped, hitting the lock.

You heard rustling and then a faint jangle as Wriothesley stepped away from the door.

You had left your keys in your bag.

The bag was on the counter, the keys were in your bag—

….He knew where you kept your keys?

You had never told him that.

The door knob began to turn. You grabbed onto the it with a white-knuckled grip, stopping it from the inside.

Your heart thrummed in your chest, beating rapidly as you desperately held onto the cool metal.

“Leave me alone!” Please was left unsaid. You shouted the words, terror making you shake and tremble.

Wriothesley fell silent. You heard him lean his weight against the door, his movements causing it to creak.

The doorknob stopped turning.

You prayed that he wouldn’t try to force it, or worse, break the door down. You didn’t know if it would hold, or if you could hold on, considering how strong he was.

You imagined his hulking figure standing outside, only a few mere inches of wood separating you, towering over you from your spot on the floor.

You were practically paralyzed with fear, and didn’t know what you would do if he actually managed to get in and get his hands on you—

“Damn it, I ruined it all, didn’t I?” Wriothesley murmured.

You jumped, not expecting the despairing admission amidst your racing thoughts that were trying to pinpoint where you had went wrong in life.

His usually playful voice was monotone, eerily flat for the self deprecating words he spoke.

You didn’t deign him with a response. You merely listened to the quiet that followed, feeling more scared than you would have been if he had been raging and banging on the door. There was something about the silence; something about it felt foreboding, like a threat was creeping up behind you and you couldn’t hear it no matter how hard you tried.

You heard him turn away a few minutes later, heavy footfalls walking towards the door, and finally the bell signaling his departure.

For a few minutes, you sat there and waited.

Eventually, you opened the closet just a sliver, looking out into the dim lighting with flickering eyes, checking every possible corner that he could be hiding in. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t in here.

You slid out of the closet and almost immediately ducked behind the counter, still shaking from the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

Shakily, you peeked out from behind the counter, checking for any sign of him outside. When you found the street to be devoid of him, you silently gasped in relief.

You ripped your keys out of the door with rushed hands.

You went home alone, without Wriothesley, who had taken it upon himself to personally walk you there almost every night of the week. A part of it felt strange to deviate from the routine, but you needed no reminder to know that the man you had trusted and spent time with all week was now a dangerous threat. You ran to the door of your home, opening it hurriedly and slamming it shut.

You tossed and turned as you slept that night, a doomed feeling settling in your churning stomach.

—————————

The next day, you took measures to start rebuilding. Perhaps you were just frantic to get back to some sense of normalcy after having the rug ripped out from under you the other night—or maybe you were desperate to have something to keep your mind off of the buzzing anxiety that was constantly gnawing at the back of your mind.

The man who broke in had already been put on trial and sentenced to an undetermined amount of time in the Fortress of Meropide, and had also been forced to cough up more than enough mora to cover the damages.

This, oddly enough, had all been told to you by a third party, someone hired by the court to watch over legal proceedings.

Someone was pulling the strings behind the case, and you didn’t want to think about who it was, just in case the pieces started falling together. (Deep down, you already knew.)

When you had heard he was being sent to the Fortress, you felt something in your gut twist unpleasantly, a kind of stone-like anxiety that weighed and sunk a permanent pit in your stomach. People who went there didn’t usually come back, or if they did, they weren’t the same. They weren’t viewed the same, either. What would happen to him once he came back? If he came back?

You shivered as the memory of him being dragged away resurfaced.

You sighed as you swept up errant pieces of class, determined to discard of every shard before you allowed any more precious customers or flowers to come through the door. The window had already been replaced, as a very nervous man had knocked on your door a few days after the…incident with Wriothesley, and claimed that he had been sent to repair it. You hadn’t even talked to anyone about fixing the window. A sinking feeling appeared in your chest as you watched the jumpy man chip away at glass and wood, his movements tense and swift. When you went to close the shop, you checked if you had locked the door three separate times before rushing home, practically running through the stone streets, running from absolutely nothing at all.

There was no sign of Wriothesley during the months it took your shop to recover. You were glad that he had taken what you had said to him in your moment of fear seriously. Still, you feared that he would show up on some random day, at some random time, and catch you off guard. That you would be reminded of the violence that seemed to follow him like a shadow, leaving trails of devastation in his wake.

Everyday you went home glancing over your shoulder while walking briskly down the street, always making sure to make it home before dark.

—————————

You unlocked the door to your home, hurriedly glancing behind you as you shoved the keys into the lock, pushing the door in quickly as it gave way. You closed and locked the door behind you, allowing yourself to relax minutely against the cool frame.

“Back so soon? I noticed you’ve been closing earlier nowadays. What’s that about?”

You froze, an ice cold fear creeping through your veins.

There, sitting in the dark of your unlit living room, was the man you had been simultaneously avoiding and thinking about constantly for months.

You could make out the silhouette of his hulking figure, leaning back into your favorite chair with his fingers laced together and knees spread apart, relaxed and causal. His eyes, which always held a mildly scrutinizing gaze, had turned razor sharp—they hadn’t moved from you since the moment you had stepped into the room. You were a pinned butterfly under that look, being dissected and picked apart by glacial, stormy irises.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, your voice coming out a little more shakily than intended. You tried not to hyperventilate. You really tried, but you could already feel your chest tightening, like just being in his presence was suffocating—

He stood up. Rooted in place, you didn’t dare move. If you tried to run, you knew he would catch you.

He moved towards you slowly, like he knew just as well as you did that you couldn’t escape.

He stopped a foot away from you, his height easily trumping yours, his figure casting a large, beastly shadow in the dim lighting.

You tilted your head back to look him in the eye. Even now, those icy eyes were beautiful. You thought it was unfair. Now that you knew what he was, what he was capable of, you thought, his eyes should come as warning. They were the eyes of a predator. And yet, still cold and steely, clear like cryo vision that hung from his hip, which you had never even seen until now.

Still beautiful, reminding you of clear water and arctic oceans and quiet. It was so quiet.

Neither of you spoke. Neither of you dared to break the careful silence.

He reached up, curled fingers gently caressing your cheek, dragging down along the side of your neck, as if a simple touch with too much force behind it would shatter you.

His eyes flickered to the place where your shirt had lifted to expose your collarbone, coat hanging off your shoulders and pulling the fabric down.

He ran his fingers over the exposed skin, making you shiver as you felt rough, calloused pads run across you gingerly, lightly. A delicate touch from a hardened man. He looked back at you, his eyes soft. Intense. Adoring. He had moved closer in the last few seconds, you remarked. You only noticed because you had to crane your head up more to look at him. His chest touched yours. He leaned down, ghosting his lips over your forehead. His hand had moved. One had settled on your waist, holding and trapping you close to him.

You felt a prick in the side of your neck, vision going black as you collapsed into his arms.

—————————

The next time you woke up, you weren’t in your house anymore. There was gauzy, heavy fabric hanging above you. You had been placed in a canopy bed in a room that was expensively furnished, and yet somehow untouched. You were in a bed, which was in a prison, at the bottom of the ocean.

Wriothesley walked in only an hour after you woke. You had a feeling he had been routinely checking to see if you were awake.

He looked down at you, his eyes painfully tender in a way that you regretted not noticing before. There was a fondness, a suffocating fondness, which told you that all those things he now whispered to you at night—how he wanted to protect you, how he had longed to have you for so long, how he had been watching you from afar with his heart in his hands, just waiting for the right moment to give it to you—

His eyes told you that they were all true.

Somehow, you couldn’t hate him.

Wriothesley had been living as a lonely prisoner in his own kingdom—his underwater kingdom that he ruled, because he thrived on the depths of the cold, dark ocean and its inhabitants that yielded to his power.

And yet the king of the underworld yearned for just a little bit of life. Life that you were familiar with—life that you thrived off of, and that thrived in return under your guidance. Life that you loved.

Life that had attracted you to him.

You didn’t know if anyone still talked about you on the surface; if they talked about your existence, or more so your disappearance, in hushed whispers with shifty eyes. No one talked about you down here—no one knew you existed, except for the head nurse and your husband.

You had been stolen away, under the ocean, that little shop off main street missing its owner forevermore.

You, who had always been surrounded by the life of the surface, had been transported to the underworld, a land of misery and lost souls, away from all life, surrounded and trapped by the love you once longed for—and mourning the life you once had.

—————————

Reader: *lets go of Wriothesley’s hand bc they got robbed*

Wriothesley: oh this jerk is gonna pay *sends the guy who robbed you to the bottom of the sea*

he’s been waiting to hold that hand for so long )):< wtf dude

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barbiesmuse · 6 months ago

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BETTER VERSION ⋆౨ৎ˚˖ ࣪

;ֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָsimon riley + reader

summary: in which you are constantly hoping for your empty shell of a husband to sweep you off your feet. but you find yourself dreaming about a better man.

tags: asshole!simon, dreams about sex, neglect, cheating but not really, simon refers to your pussy as “her.”

HEAD BARBIE'S ANNOUNCEMENTS: i think i'm back!! my dorm got broken into by a jackass frat boy so i've been buying new everything! do all men suck? everything has been so crazy lately i haven't been able to think straight! missed this dearly! thank you to the wonderful @ungodlybre for not only giving me this idea but letting me write it in my own special way! please check out her account she's amazing and has such a fun vibe! lots of love, natty. - ps. if this sounds weird it's because grammarly corrected literally everything. i am not proud of this, but i needed to get it out so i could finish my price fic!!

“But is it cheating if I love a better version of you?”

It was hard to figure out when Simon had stopped being the man you fell in love with. It wasn't a drastic change that happened unexpectedly. In fact, it was unnoticeable, how he stopped talking at dinner, how he never showered with you anymore, how he stopped getting you “just because” flowers. Yet the sex continued. It wasn't that he fell out of love with you, he'd be a fool if he had. It was the constant leaving that made him act in such ways. He felt as if he was not worthy of such a patient woman.

The past few nights, you had been dreaming of a man sweeping you off your feet and lighting a fire under you. A man who wouldn't use you strictly for sex then get deployed for six months. You knew Simon couldn't control when he had to go, but a small part of you wanted him to settle down. Maybe get an injury, just so you could have him to yourself for a few weeks, a month at most. You just missed Simon, not Ghost. Simon. Tonight was no different, you did the same ol' routine. Stumble up the stairs after having one too many glasses of wine, walk into your laundry room instead of your bedroom, and toss yourself onto the bed. It was pathetic, truly. You were a young sweet thing, it was a damn shame you settled for a many who treated you like a toy. It wasn't on purpose. He truly did love you, right? The sound of Simon's boots woke you from your slumber, the sound of him cursing himself under his breath made you giggle quietly. The sound of his voice comforting you, even though it was almost inaudible. As he walks through the door to your bedroom you smile sweetly, he couldn't help but smile right back. A sight for sore eyes. He didn't speak, no he wasn't worth it. He didn't even deserve to breathe the same air as you in his eyes. You were a goddess of a woman, he was simply an empty shell of a man. He could tell you were expecting more than a smile, but until he took off your panties in the middle of the night that's all you'd be getting. You watched as he undressed, your eyes flashing with admiration. Not at Simon, at the thought of a better man. When he turned around you would see the man you'd seen in your dreams. He would press a gentle kiss to your temple, caress your cheek before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. Instead, Simon stripped himself of all his clothes except for his red boxers and climbed into bed. There was a slight smell of musk, but you didn't mind. In fact, it was almost comforting. No words were spoken, but the two of you had a different way of communicating. His touch spoke for itself. Simon wasn't a man who had a way with words, but you understood him, and that was enough for him. He wraps his arm around your waist, your ass directly against his stomach. He pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder with a groan. He presses his forehead to your shoulder and you feel his soft lashes brush against your shoulder like a soft caress. You leaned your head against his shoulder, giving him access to mark your neck. He presses gentle kisses to your collarbone, trails up to your ear, and whispers softly.

“I know you've been dreaming about other men. I can't blame you, I haven't exactly been your prince charming.” He says, his teeth graze your earlobe. Your heart almost stops at his words, how could he have possibly known? You look up at him, shock painting a rather amusing picture on your pretty little face. His hands move from waist to fondle with your tits. A moan emerging from your plump lips, he smiles he could get used to that sound.

“Trust me sweet girl, I know i'm hurting you, I know I am. I'll make it better, okay? Just gotta trust me, love.” He says as his hands trail down to your lacy panties. He knows you wore them just for him, and he loves that. He loves how even though he treats you as merely a roommate, you still make sure you're all primped and pretty just for him and his cock. You can't help but nod, everything he's saying is true. He has been hurting you, and he knows it. Has he taken pleasure in it? Simon's hands trail down to your swollen clit, you can't help but buck your hips at the sudden touch. He lets out a quiet chuckle, his hot breath against your neck. He presses a kiss to your temple before sticking his fingers in your mouth, you whimper as he stuffs his large fingers in your mouth. “Suck, gotta get her ready for m' cock.” He says, his voice raspy. You do as your told, sucking his fingers coating them with your sweet spit. Just as you feel Simon slip a finger inside of your sweet pussy you're awoken by the sound of Simon barging into your shared room. You can't help but feel tears prick at your eyes as he looks you in the eye, no hint of emotion in them. It was all a dream? But it felt so real, his touch, his words, his presence. You tried to convince yourself it was real, yet you were at a loss for words. You look up at Simon once more, his cold eyes look you up and down before pushing his way into the bed. “M' sorry m' not the man you want me to be, but thank you for being the woman I need ya to be.” He says as he presses a kiss to the exact spot your dream man did, and a little part of you would like to think it was real. He was so close, yet so far away.

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ladyymiisa · 7 months ago

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MONEY, MONEY, MONEY!

summary: your loving boyfriend who spoils you rotten!

tags: hawks x fem!reader, barista!reader, fem pronouns used for reader, fluff

author’s note: hi sexies!!! i literally can’t stop thinking about hawks spoiling his gf god i want him so bad

it’s no secret that hawks is rich. being a hero has not only given him popularity but also a paycheque that would make anyone’s eyes pop out if they saw the numbers on it. like, this man’s credit card is black. that’s how rich he is. and you’d think he’d try to display it, right? maybe by driving a really expensive car, like a ferrari or something, or by only wearing designer clothes.

haha, wrong.

for as wealthy as he is, hawks rarely spoils himself. perhaps he feels selfish to have all of this, despite how hard he’s worked for it. he tells himself that it’s because he’s too busy to actually relish in everything that he owns, that he has more important matters to focus on, but a part of him knows that they’re just excuses to make up for how hung up he is on the past.

the past of his criminal, alcoholic father and emotionally distant mother, the past of his abuse and how neglected he was. because of it, he can’t bring himself to actually enjoy the things others would kill for.

at least until he meets you.

he meets you and suddenly he finds a new purpose for his money, other than keeping it in his bank account to collect dust.

to spoil you, of course!

to me, hawks is more of a giver rather than a receiver and i will die on this hill. he loves to pamper you, shower you in the most expensive gifts known to man and take you on the fanciest dates. from designer shoes to jewellery that would cost you three years worth of rent, this man makes it his life mission to ensure that you only get the best of the best.

and at first, it all seems like too much. you’re just an ordinary civilian working as a barista, nothing special. you don’t consider yourself someone worthy of being hawks’ object of affection, but hawks, sorry, keigo makes sure to put a stop to those silly thoughts immediately. besides the expensive gifts, he also shows you daily just how much you mean to him, which is more precious than any pair of diamond earrings he could ever gift you.

for as busy as he is, keigo never leaves you hanging, no matter how busy he is.

showing up on your balcony late at night with a bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand if he isn’t able to visit you during your day shift, or washing the dishes for you if you’re too tired are some of the ways in which he shows his love.

and you grow greedy because of it. everything be damned, you slowly turn into a spoiled princess and it’s all his fault.

do you feel guilty about it? maybe just a little. but only because you no longer shy away from asking keigo to buy you stuff.

oh, look! a perfume you’ve been eyeing for a while just became available online? all you have to do is bat your eyelashes prettily at him and next thing you know you have a small package waiting by your doorstep the following day.

your favourite makeup brand dropped a new collection? surely he won’t mind if you get every product available.

hm? you’re still working at that coffee shop? well, not anymore! keigo can’t possibly have his pretty baby working herself to death when he’s right there to ensure that you’re living as comfortably as possible. after all, there’s no need for you to work! your rent is taken care of by him and his credit card is basically yours, so don’t worry your pretty head about such silly things! he’s got you covered.

but in the end, it’s not those gifts that make you fall asleep with a smile on your face at night. it’s his love that has your heart fluttering inside your chest whenever he gives you that boyish grin of his, it’s his love that leaves your cheeks feeling sore after he says such a horrible joke that you can’t help but laugh at. and keigo makes sure to shower you in his love every single day. he is a pretty generous man after all.

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mncxbe · 8 months ago

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# pm!dazai who has a crush on his partner/rival ݁ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: jealous, slightly posessive dazai, mild enemies to lovers, dazai and his complicated feelings

"i can't believe you actually have a crush on Chibi. what's so special about him?" huffed the brunette, leaning against the lamppost behind him. the dim, golden light bounced off his brown curls, illuminatung his downcast expression.

"what, are you jealous?" you retorted, earning a scowl from Dazai. "don't be ridiculous."

it was mere hours ago that your archenemy found out that Chuuya asked you out on a date. an insignificant thing, really, but it vexed him. what on earth could you possibly see in that redhead midget? he just had to know, and as petty as it might be, he was dead set on changing your mind about going on that date. even if it meant following you back home and talking things out with you in front of your apartment at 9 p.m.

"i'm just saying, Nakahara isn't your type. i know it" argued the brunette, crossing his arms over his chest. "he's temperamental, immature, totally unfunny and shorter than you"

"maybe i'm into guys like that" you shrugged absentmindedly, applying an extra layer of gloss on your plump lips.

Dazai had to admit you looked absolutely stunning in that outfit. he felt his cheeks warm up as his gaze lingered on your lips but he quickly looked away, shaking his head. "that's not possible. are you really that desperate to get a boyfriend?"

"well, summer's coming soon. i need someone to take pretty pictures of me at the beach and to buy me flowers" you smiled, fully turning to face him "you got a problem with that?"

"you bet i do. that's just vain and i don't see where Chuuya comes in. you could date any other guy."

"yea, but i like Chuuya. besides, we get along well and he actually knows how to treat a woman"

and I don't? Dazai wanted to ask. his blood boiled, jealousy clouding his judgement as he peered down at you. imagining you and Chuuya together holding hands and walking down the halls of the Port Mafia's headquarters, kissing and cooing at each other like a lovey dovey couple made his stomach churn. it felt wrong in so many ways, yet here you were, waiting for the redhead to pick you up for a date. with each minute that passed Dazai's irritation grew.

"for someone who knows how to treat a woman he sure is late for your date" he scoffed, rolling his eyes. you took a step closer to the brunette, a mocking smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"you're acting so petty right now. damn, you must be really jealous"

"i'm not jealous" Dazai's sharp glare returned to you, clenching his fists as he leaned closer to you. "i just think it's stupid. you two would never work out"

"how do you know that?" you pressed, chuckling at his unfounded claim. you weren't used to seeing Dazai like this, so worked up about something so insignificant.

"because i know you and i know Chuuya and you're a recipe for disaster. i'll be damned if i let you get heartbroken by that idiot" without realizing, Dazai leaned closer to you, his body towering over yours. he was seething, glaring down at you. his chocolate brown eyes seemed almost black in the dark, menacing, a warning of his bad mood. you knew you should stop pushing him, but you just couldn't help yourself. you wanted him to say what he truly had on his mind.

"and who are you to say who gets to break my heart and who doesn't?" your words struck a cord and Dazai's features darkened. it was a damn good point: he wasn't your friend, just a colleague. no, your self proclaimed archenemy. although you've known each other for years, he knew there was no deeper connection between you than the childish rivalry. but that was enough to make Dazai grow attached and develop a sense of ownership over you. or maybe feelings? in any case, how could he possibly allow Chuuya to take you away from him? he swore he could see red before his eyes when your phone's screen lit up and he read Chuuya's name on display.

before you could answer Dazai seized your wrist, wrapping a hand around your jaw to tilt your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze. he brought his face mere inches away from your, so close you could feel his hot breath against your lips as he spoke. "who i am? i'm the one who's been by your side all this time, though thick and thin. yea, you're an annoying brat most of the time and i hate your guts but i'll be damned if i let Nakahara take you away from me. you're mine, got it? i'll take your stupid pictures at the beach and buy you flowers if that's what it takes for you to drop this stupid date"

your breath caught in your throat at his sudden outburst. did he actually confess? it didn't quite feel like it. your gaze mused on his features as you searched for answers, but you didn't find any in the sharp line of his mouth or the furrow of his brows. "so... what are you asking me to do?" you breathed out, a mere whisper that sent shivers down Dazai's spine. he let go of your wrist, wrapping a steady arm around your waist.

shit, he really didn't think this though. he's never been good with his words and now that he had you in his arms, so close he could smell your intoxicatung scent and feel the warmth of your breath on his skin his brain short-circuited. "i... i'm asking you to stay with me tonight. and from now on. i'll take you to dinner instead" he said softly, his harsh features melting away when you nodded. "thought you hated my guts" you chuckled, gathering the courage to cup his face with your hand. his skin was surprisingly soft. Dazai leaned into your touch, a shadow of a smile etching itself on his features "well... i wasn't lying. but i hate the idea of you dating Chuuya more. can't let him put his hands all over my pretty girl" sighed the brunette, his lips ghosting over yours "so? will you stay with me?"

goosebumps raised on your skin as you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips against his. the kiss was heated, desperate but oh so loving. threading his fingers through your hair, Dazai gently tugged at your roots, making you mewl into his mouth. when he pulled back, his signature smirk was back in place. "i'll take that as a yes then?"

"yea, idiot" you giggled, looking down at your phone to hide your blush. "just let me text Chuuya not to come then we can go grab some food"

Dazai nodded, taking a few steps back. he was beyond pleased with himself. though he didn't necessarrily planned to confess, things went smoother than he thought they would. and he finally got a date with the girl he liked and snatched her from Chuuya. there couldn't be any better turn of events. you watched Dazai lean back against the lamppost with a content smile and you could barely suppress a laughter.

opening Chuuya's chat, you quickly typed in a text.

AAGHHSJSJ!!! your plan worked Dazai asked me out. Chuuya you're a fucking genius thanks for this. i owe you big time bestie.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #dazai bsd #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai #dazai bungou stray dogs

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 1 year ago

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Didn’t Mean It » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: After a bad day at work, Bucky accidentally yells at Y/N without realizing it. When he does realize it, he buys her favorite flowers and snacks in a way of him apologizing.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, language, brief mention of alcohol, yelling, crying, kissing, pet names (doll, babydoll)

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

Bucky sighed as he walked through the door of yours and his apartment. He took off his jacket, tossing it onto the back of the couch before taking a seat and running his fingers through his hair. You walked in the living room, smiling when you seen that your boyfriend is home.

“You’re home!” You say, sitting down next to him.

You went to kiss his lips, but he turned his head and you ended up kissing his stubbly cheek making you frown in confusion.

“What’s wrong, Buck?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Nothing.” Bucky says, unwrapping your arms from his neck and stood up.

You stood up too and followed him to the kitchen. You watched as he opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. He opened it and took a sip of it. You approached him and wrapped your arms around his waist and looked up at him.

“Are you sure nothings wrong?” You asked.

“Nothings wrong! Stop asking!” He sets his beer on the counter. “I haven’t been home for 5 minutes and you’re already clinging to me!” He yells, pushing you away from him causing you to stumble a little.

He grabbed his beer and went back in the living room with you following behind him.

“Did something happen at work?” You asked.

“Nothing happened at work! How many fucking times are you gonna ask me the same damn question?!” He asks.

“I just—” Bucky interrupted you.

“You just what?” Bucky mocked you causing you to go quiet. “That’s what I thought. Now why don’t you shut the fuck up and stop being so god damn clingy.” He says.

Bucky has never yelled at you. Your bottom lip quivered. You turned around and went to the bedroom, closed and locked the door behind you and threw yourself on the bed and started crying. Realization hit Bucky a few minutes later.

“What the hell did I just do?!” Bucky asks himself.

He got up off the couch and went to the bedroom, only to find out that the door was locked. The door knob jiggling startled you.

“Doll?” He knocked on the door a couple times. “Doll please.” He pleaded.

You didn’t stay anything. You tried your best to muffle your cries with a pillow.

“Babydoll, I’m so sorry.” Bucky starts. “I didn’t mean to yell at you and say all of those things.” He says.

Bucky waited a moment, thinking that you would forgive him quickly and open the door, but you didn’t. He sighed and sat down on the ground next to the door, leaning his back against the wall.

“I’m here if you want to talk or if you need anything.” He says.

You didn’t even realize that you fell asleep until you woke up the next morning, still wearing the same clothes you wore yesterday. You rubbed your eyes and got out of bed and went to the bathroom. You looked in the mirror and seen your eyes all red and puffy from crying. You sighed and splashed some cold water on your face and dabbed it dry with a towel. You walked out of the bathroom and unlocked the bedroom door and opened it to see Bucky sleeping with his back against the wall. You quietly walked past him and went to the kitchen to make coffee. Bucky woke up after a few minutes and seen the bedroom door open. He quickly stood up and went in the bedroom, but didn’t see you in there. He checked the bathroom, but didn’t see you in there either. Bucky began to panic, thinking that you left him. That’s when the smell of coffee hit his nose. He immediately went to the kitchen to see you pouring yourself a cup of coffee. He let out a breath of relief and approached you, hugging you from behind.

“Morning, doll.” Bucky says softly and kissed your cheek.

You didn’t say anything. You used all of your strength to push him away and went to the living room with your cup of coffee and turned the TV on. Bucky followed you like a lost puppy.

“Babydoll, I’m sorry for the things I said last night.” He apologizes.

You still didn’t say anything. You stared straight at the TV and took a sip of your coffee.

“Babydoll please.” He pleaded, putting a comforting hand on your knee.

You pushed his hand off of your knee. Bucky sighed before standing up and grabbing his jacket.

“I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want. Let me know if you need anything.” He says before walking out of the apartment.

Bucky walked down the street with his hands in his pockets and looking down at the ground. His mind reflected on the memories of him yelling at you last night. “What the hell is wrong with me? Why the fuck would I yell at the love of my life?” Bucky thought to himself.

He looked up and seen your favorite market that’s down the street from the apartment complex you two live in. Bucky smiled to himself and went inside of it. He seen your favorite flowers and some of your favorite snacks. He picked out one of each snack and grabbed a bouquet of your favorite flowers and paid for everything. Meanwhile, you’re sitting on the couch and scrolling through social media with the TV playing as background noise. A shiver went through your body. You went to the bedroom to change into something warmer when one of Bucky’s sweatshirts caught your eye. You grabbed it and put it on, already feeling yourself getting warmed up. You went back to the living room and sat back down on the couch when you heard the door open and close. You knew it was Bucky, but didn’t pay much attention to it. Bucky walked in the living room with a couple of plastic bags and a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“I got these for you.” Bucky says, handing you the bouquet.

You looked at him silently and took the bouquet from his hand.

“I got you some of your favorite snacks at the market down the street.” He says, sitting next to you.

You looked in the bags without saying anything.

“It’s ok if you’re not ready to talk to me yet.” Bucky starts. “I just want you to know that I’m really sorry for the way I acted last night. I didn’t mean to yell at you and say all of those rude things to you. I just—” You silenced him with a kiss.

Bucky smiles against your lips and cupped your cheeks. You pulled away, looking into his beautiful blue eyes.

“I forgive you.” You say.

“You do?” He asks.

“Yes.” You nodded. “I mean I was upset that you yelled at me and then I realized that people have their moments.” You say.

Bucky smiles and kisses you passionately.

“I love you so much, doll.” He says softly against your lips.

“I love you too, Buck.” You say with a smile.

You pulled away from Bucky and stood up to put the flowers in a vase. You smiled when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“You’re wearing my sweatshirt.” He says, kissing your cheek.

“It’s warm and smells like you.” You say, leaning back against his body.

“How about we spend the rest of the day watching movies of your choice and eat those snacks I bought.” Bucky suggests.

“Mhmm, I like the sound of that.” You say, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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nieceeee · 1 month ago

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Can you do a story with ony about every time he buys her something she pays him back either in cash or getting him a gift just as expensive every time and he eventually catch’s on and asks her why to which she explains how at the end of her last relationship her ex was tryna to force her to pay him for “wasting his time” can it end in smut plz 🤭🤭😩

“ALL THE THINGS”

P/S: Most of your life your relationships have been transactional. You learned early on that nothing you get comes for free, especially with me. It was always a give and take. So when you got with Ony, you expected the same things. For every gift he got you, you made sure to double it because that's how the game goes right? Well Ony wasn't having that. He was going to get it through to you by any means necessary...

WC: 3.2k

A/N: DO NOT HATE ME! MNDI!! This took so much longer than I expected it to. But I hope you like it. It got me in my feelings a little bit ngl. Nicknames (pa, mamas, princess, babygirl) smutty, slight angst as well but there is smut and cute fluff, p in v, body worship, I think that’s all.

Life is about balance. The ebbs and flows are what makes the world go ‘round. Every action requires a reaction. It's a give and a take.

You took that literally.

Simply put, you have never known a love that wasn’t built on balance. And for as long as you could remember, every relationship you were involved in had been more of a checks and balances act that anything. It was all so…transactional.

See love has it's strings attached, no matter how the fairytales tries to spin it. It was an unwritten rule. In order to get what you wanted you had to give exactly that same thing or greater back. You needed to surpass expectations to have someone meet your own. You learned-- no, excelled at this. Now, could it have stemmed from deeper rooted insecurities of protecting yourself from being hurt. Sure.

I mean you were told at an early age from women in your life that nothing was truly free. Love, affections, kindness-- they all came with a cost. And you simply learned to play the game. Accept it with grace but never let them think they got one up on you. You remember the warning as clear as day. You kept your guard up, always matching every gesture, every gift, every ounce of attention you got from the people who mattered most. Because it had always been a give and take, and you’d be damned if you were ever the one left holding the bag.

Nonetheless this worked. It always worked. Until you met Ony.

Onyankopon came into your life like any other relationship would. He was sweet, charismatic, gentle. He was everything you could have ever asked for in a man. Patient, a rock when you needed him, and a safe space for you to just…be. When everything around you fell to chaos, he was the one thing that could lead you back into serenity. He quiet devotion to you was unmatched, making you feel seen and appreciated in every way a woman needed to be. Only was a simple gentleman who loved his lady. And he showed it even in the smallest of gestures--a hand-picked flower, a warm sweater on a cold day, a soft kiss on your forehead when you least expected it. It just felt right.

But with each gift, you felt a twinge of unease, a little tug in your chest. Those words repeating in your brain.

What was his endgame?

Ony loved you. Plain and simple. Anyone could see that. But yet you were so blinded by past hurt, you couldn’t step outside of your own head. Surely, he isn’t doing these things and expecting nothing back? No, it's just like before. So you did what you’ve always done. You matched him, made sure each gift was of equal or greater value. Yours needed to be more meaningful, more dramatic. You had to outdo him.

Every. Single. Time

It started early, a few weeks into your relationship--like when he bought you your favorite coffee from the cafe around the corner of your apartment that you loved so much. Of course you had to treat him to lunch the next day. “What’s this?” he asked when you walked in the house. He was working from home, headphones covering one of his ears. “I figured you were hungry so I wanted to bring you a treat.” you had replied. He smiled up at you, placing a gentle kiss against your temple. “Thank you baby girl.” his voice was soft with you, hands tracing gentle circles into your hips.

Further into your relationship, it continued. For you birthday, he bought you the beautiful tiffany princess cut diamond necklace that you were raving about one night as you scrolled on tiktok. “Omg, Pa look at this! It's gorgeous.” you had exclaimed. You saved it to your cart for you to buy later but he beat you to it. So what did you do? You bought him a Berluti Men’s leather jacket for his own birthday that you knew he had been eyeing for months.

But soon, the game escalated. You found yourself overthinking every little thing he did. Your mind wondering what you could give him in return. And no matter how hard you tried, you always felt like you had to top his gestures, matching him with something bigger, something better.

Ony had an inkling about your behavior for a while but he left it alone. Until your two year anniversary. That night, you sat together in his apartment, you hand him a gift--a black bag with two boxes inside. He smiles at you as he opens it up. Inside were two new grillz, one silver set and one gold set for his collection. His shocked expression morphed into a small smile of appreciation. “These are fire mamas, thank you so much.” he said before sitting them to the side. You smile bright at him “You deserve it baby.” you say to him.

Before you could even think, Ony placed the bag aside, reaching for a box from the table in front of him. You raised an eyebrow. "Hold up," Ony interrupted, his voice steady but serious. "I’ve got something for you too." He hands you the blue tiffany box with a bright white bow attached to the corner. “Wait,” you said, a little too quickly. “You didn’t get me anything else, did you? Because I just—"

He hands you the box, much smaller that the one you had given him. You hesitate for a moment as he opened it, revealing a stacked rose gold diamond ring. Your heart lurched in your chest. You blinked at the gift, unsure what to say. The ring was beautiful—perfect—but your immediate thought was that you needed to do better. Your mind raced, running through possible gifts you could return with, how you could top this beautiful piece of jewelry. Your instinct to outdo him kicked in, but then you saw the look on his face. He wasn’t waiting for you to match him.

“Ony…” you started, your voice wavering slightly. “I can’t just... take this. You know I—"

“Yeah, I know,” he said softly, cutting you off, his voice low. “That’s the problem.”

You blinked, confused. “The problem?” He sighed “I’ve been watching for a while and I didn’t know if I was for sure until now.” He lets you sit the box to the side and waits until you turn back towards him. “I noticed it a while back. The way your face contorts when you see me get you something. And before I know it you’ve repaid the favor.” he explains. “I mean we are in a relationship baby. That's what we do.” You attempt to laugh it off.

He leaned forward, his gaze steady as he watched you, his dark eyes soft but intense. “You’re not getting it, are you?” he said quietly, shaking his head. “You think everything has to be a transaction. That if I give you something, you have to give me something back. But that’s not how it works with me. Not with us.” he says “Ony, I’m not…” you speak up but you’re cut off

“Even in our bedroom. It’s like I can’t even please you without you feeling as if you need to outperform me.” He says. Your chest tightens at that statement. You hadn’t realized how much this had affected your relationship. You could see it now the wear and tear it was causing him. “Like don't get me wrong baby I love when we fuck but…sometimes I just want to make love to you.” he says gently.

You looked down at the ring, your fingers nervously tracing the gold, feeling the weight of his words. Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to process them.

“I don’t want you to match me,” Ony continued, his voice gentle but firm. “I’m not giving you this because I expect something in return. I’m giving it to you because I want to. Because I love you. And I don’t need anything back. Not right now, not ever.”

You swallowed hard, his words sinking deep. A lump formed in your throat as you felt the sting of emotion build up inside you. Ony wasn’t playing the game. He was giving you something real. Something without strings attached. Yet you struggled to accept it.

“I...” You found it hard to speak, the words getting caught in your throat. “I don’t know how to accept that. I’ve always had to give something back. I’ve always had to prove...”

“You don’t need to prove anything to me,” he interrupted softly, reaching out to take your hands in his, his touch warm and grounding. “Look,” he said gently. “I don’t know who he is that made you feel like this. Or who they were that told you that this is the only way you can receive love. It’s not.” He says softly ”But you don’t understand. It not okay for you to do for me and I don’t do for you.” You attempt to explain tears burning your eyes. “You can do for me. But do for me because you love me and appreciate me. Not because you feel like you have something to prove.”

“You don’t have to keep playing that game, baby. You’re enough just as you are. I love you, and that’s not conditional. It’s not about what you give me. It’s about what we give each other. And if you can’t accept that, then we need to have a different conversation.”

Your heart ached, a flood of emotions threatening to spill over. You had spent so much of your life protecting yourself, hiding behind the walls of your own expectations, and here was Ony, asking you to tear them down. To let him love you without the conditions you had always set in place.

You took a shaky breath, feeling the warmth of his hands around yours. “I’m scared,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“I know,” he replied, his voice tender, the understanding in his eyes never wavering. “But you don’t have to be anymore. You don’t have to do anything, or be anyone, to deserve my love. You’ve got me. No strings attached.”

And with those few words, you felt the walls inside you begin to crack. The tears you had been holding back finally spilled over as you let out a shaky breath, feeling the full weight of his words settle in your chest.

He caresses your head gently, kissing away your tears. You don’t move, allowing him to nurture you. Ony pulls you closer to him. Kissing down to your lips. After a few minutes, you pull back. “Your lips are salty.” you giggle. Laughter fills the air as tension leaves both your bodies. Ony picks the box up and opens it, the ring on full display. “Ony…” you start. “This is my vow to you. My vow to love you endlessly if you let me. To give you all of me and more. No questions asked. My promise that you have all of me.” he slips the ring onto your finger. “It's beautiful baby. Thank you.” you lean up and press a kiss against his lips. His kisses you gently, pulling your bottom lip into his mouth.

You whimper in his touch. “Ony.” you speak breathlessly. He hums before kissing you again. Heat rises in your body as his hands trail up your thighs. You whine, wiggling closer to him. Ony pulls back a bit from you. “Wha…” you startle. “I want you to allow me to love you and please you without conditions. Can you do that for me?” He asks. You look into his eyes burning with sincerity and a sense of newfound peace washes over you. “Yes” you answer and you feel yourself being lifted up. You smile as Ony carries you back into your bedroom and places you gently on the bed.

“Just let me worship you baby. Like you deserve.”

He speaks before gently removing your clothes. His eyes rake over your body, taking in the curves of every part of you. “Fuck, you're so fucking pretty.” he said, hands caressing every part of you. His fingertips trace your neck and down to your nipples, circling them gently. Your back lifts from the bed but he presses you back down carefully. “Relax mamas, let me take care of you.” he cooes, continuing his descent down your body. His feather light fingers move down your torso and to your thighs. He draws gentle shapes into your inner thighs, massaging your body to loosen you up. “Breathe deep for me mamas. In and out. Focus on your breathing.” he whispers before moving his head down to your pussy.

His nose grazes against your clit and your body jolts. Ony’s thick hands come back up and flatten you back against the mattress again. “Relax baby. Keep breathing for me.” You will your body to relax as he resumes his actions. Nose grazing against the meaty flesh, he begins to pepper soft kisses along your skin. Tantric breathing methods allow your body to release the tension you held in your muscles as Ony’s lips press against your already wet one. He makes out with your pussy, softly tugging your lips into his mouth and using his tongue to flick your clit ever so often.

“Fuck pa. Right there. Don’t stop.” you whine. Ony’s kisses are slow and deliberate. His pace is steady, tongue dragging from opening to clit, like a cat lapping at it's milk. “You so fucking sweet.” he growls into your pussy, warm breath blowing into your pussy. Your pussy clenches around nothing, causing more of your juice to pour out, landing right on his tongue. “Fuck.” You gasp for air. Your toes shape into ‘C’s as Ony explores your body. Mouth pleasuring you as his hands grip and knead at your flesh. Your juices drip down his chin as he slurps you down, soft moans release from his chest at the sight of your arousal. Ony’s dick hardens as he presses his hips into the mattress to relieve pressure while he honors your body. Your eyes roll back as your head presses back into the pillow, breathing doing little to keep shivers from racing through your body.

“Ony baby, please.” you whine, hips grinding against his face while his tongue fucks your center. Your pussy so wet, the sounds echoing through the room as she sings sweet music to him. Ony was in a trance, getting lost in your essence. The speed of his tongue increases causing sparks to sizzle underneath your skin, alerting your body of the pending release. Your moans get louder as your breathing gets heavy, Your hands reach down to grip the back of his head, hips stuttering against his face. “Ony, Fuck Pa, I’m gonna cum.” You’re borderline groveling as your body begins to convulse, saccharine secretions glaze his beard as you call out his name.

You struggle to catch your breath as Ony finally comes up for hair, lickign you from his lips. “You ready for me baby?” he asks, dick hardened beneath his boxers. “I-...” you breaths still trying to level themselves out, “Are you sure you don't need me to help you baby?” you manage to push out between breaths. “No mamas. Just let me praise you like the muse you are.” his deep praises caress the deepest parts of your heart, mending unspoken wounds with each word. He steps forward, pulling his dick from his boxers and gently slapping your swollen clit with his tip. “You’re my princess, yeah?” he asks softly looking down at the gold mine between your legs. “Y-yes.” you respond to him. “Remember that. Always.” he slips his tip through your entrance. “Onyyyy, fuck baby.” you body clenches, attempting to pull him in deeper. “Tell me you deserve it baby.” his eyes meet yours, brown irises burning with intensity. “I deserve iitttt…” your words drag as he sheaths himself all the way inside you.

“You deserve it all baby girl. You’re so fucking precious to me.” the sweet words contrast with the thickness of his voice as his hips jut forward, strokes deepening and increasing in speed. Only’s hands trail your body, one hand coming up to gentle press against your throat as the other locks your wrists above your head. His body leans closer, strokes shallowing as his hips grind into yours, words of praise whispered against your skin as he caters to every need that your body requests. Both bodies move in tandem as breaths deepen and arousals heighten. You feel your body teetering on the edge of another climax. Only can tell by the way your pussy grips him desperately, craving him.

“Ony, I’m..I’m c-close.” you cry out, body begging for him. “It's okay. Give it to me princess.” he commands. “Bless me with your essence baby. Release it all for me.”

You don't register the sounds being released are yours until your body starts to shake in his arms. Tears fall from the corners of your eyes slipping down your face and around your ears. Bed wet with your tears and your release as your aura explodes from inside of you. Ony’s breaths choppy as he requests, “Can I pour into you princess?” he whispers brokenly into your ear. Words don’t come so you feverishly nod your head in agreement. His growl follows his nut as you feel your pussy warm from his release coating your gummy walls. You both sit, holding each other as you come down from your high.

After a moment, Ony raises up. “All good or one more?” He asks using his thumb to swipe the tears from your eyes. “All good Pa. Thank you.” You let out. Ony rises up and goes into the bathroom. Your eyes flutter open and closed as you let yourself calm down. He returns with a warm towel and works on cleaning you up. He replaces your clothes with a warm t shirt of his and gets fresh blankets for the bed.

You sit and allow it. It feels good being on this side. Your heart feels light as you watch him move around the room getting everything comfortable for you. “Better?” He asks. “Better.” You repeat as a response. “Good. Now take your pretty ass down while I go get you something to eat.”

Ony didn’t ask for anything in return. He gave freely, unconditionally. And maybe, for the first time in your life, you realized you could do the same. He came back in the room with your food and slipped underneath the covers with you, pulling your body in his warmth. You pulled him into an embrace, wrapping your arms around him tightly, as if trying to hold onto the love he was offering you.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

“I love you too,” Ony murmured, holding you even tighter, as if he never wanted to let go.

In that moment, everything changed. You didn’t need to play the game anymore. You didn’t need to prove anything. You just needed to accept what was right in front of you: a love that was simple, pure, and free from the weight of expectations.

And for the first time in your life, it was enough.

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