#fic: my little corner of the world
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Okay but imagine mlcotw Jamie going to pride and crying when she sees the men giving 'free dad hugs'
do you want me to kill myself be so honest with me right now? WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT TO ME
And she would probably be going with all her friends too so they wouldn't get it like she can't tell Sirius why she's about to cry when she sees it. So she just has to stand there and watch as Sirius goes up for a hug and just sit with the realization that that will never be her dad. Effie would 100% be out there with her if Jamie asked her to but never Monty.
And then Regulus would have to take her away for a moment because she can't handle it and Lily would have to come up with an excuse as to why and she'd just be sitting there in the middle of pride when everyone is celebrating thinking about how her Dad doesn't love her the way he used to love her when she was "him"
#im so sad now#im devastated#im never getting over this fic#and i am actually killing monty rn#AND myself#i thought i was OVER this fic#I thought I was done#but I'll never be done#Jamie stole a piece of my heart and she won't give it back :(#fic: my little corner of the world
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Little Math AU drabble
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Dream doesn't realize, until Hob goes away for a conference over a long weekend, the degree to which his only form of self-care has become Hob. Hob encourages him to eat, and to get enough sleep, and to leave the house. With Hob absent he's found himself crouched on the floor for the twentieth hour in a row, bent awkwardly over his white board where he's laid it flat after getting tired of standing, scribbling furiously upside down while trying not to smudge any of the writing, several cups of half-finished coffee and piles of notes around him. He doesn't realize how much time has passed until he hears the front door open quietly and Hob creep in, setting his bag down carefully by the door.
The fact that Hob feels the need to tiptoe into his own flat at noon for fear Dream might still be sleeping should probably be a red flag for Dream in terms of his own sleep schedule. As it is he's too preoccupied by the fact that if Hob is home that means it must be Tuesday. He had not thought it was Tuesday.
Hob stops abruptly as he reaches the living room, staring down at Dream where he's frozen, balanced on all fours over his white board with one marker in his hand and another color held in his mouth.
"You look like something I'd not like to meet in the woods at night," Hob says. "How can you even balance like that?"
Dream tries to extract himself from his twisted position without smudging his writing or falling over. He mostly manages it and gets to his feet, shoulders popping loudly, swaying as all the blood rushes from his head. "I didn't want to smudge the writing."
"Let's get it off the floor, then," Hob says, and helps him set the whiteboard back upright. This makes some of the text upside down. Hob tilts his head trying to read it.
"I solved it," Dream tells him. Now that he's stopped thinking about it, and started thinking about Hob instead, he couldn't possibly explain what he solved. He's been thinking about it for thirty-six hours. Possibly he needs to stop thinking about it now.
"No clue what this says," Hob says. "But I believe you."
He turns to Dream then, taking Dream's face between his hands and giving him a kiss. Dream hums, leaning into him.
"How was the conference?" he asks.
"Oh, delightful, they had an open bar. S'the only thing that saved it, really."
Dream is aware that Hob doesn't particularly enjoy academic conferences as they usually involve much sitting around and listening to slow presentations. He smiles to imagine Hob coping with the unbearable dullness by having altogether too many drinks in the hotel bar. "A terrible ordeal, I'm sure."
"Mmm. Missed you." He runs his fingers through Dream's hair, drawing him closer. "When's the last time you slept?"
"How could you--"
Hob chuckles. "You look like death."
Ah. Dream frowns, thinking. "...Sunday. Perhaps. I was... preoccupied."
"You know if you sleep your brain will have time to process the information and you might solve it faster," Hob tells him. Hob is becoming far too advanced, Dream thinks. He's graduated from simply telling Dream sleep is good for him to citing manipulative reasons that Dream might actually be compelled to agree with.
"Next time I'll call you each night and tell you a bedtime story," Hob says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "But only if you sleep."
Of course, there is also the bribery.
Dream swallows. He has missed Hob. "Or perhaps now?"
Hob laughs. "Oh, darling." He slips his hand under Dream's shirt. "You at least have to eat something first. Did you eat anything at all while I was away?"
"Coffee," Dream says. And a lot of it.
"Dream, I left you food in the fridge."
"I was preoccupied," Dream insists.
"I'll need to create some kind of rewards system for you, like for the rats that press the lever," Hob muses. "Only the food is the task instead of the reward."
"What is the reward, then?" Dream asks.
Hob just winks.
"How will that work if you are not here?" Dream asks, frowning.
Hob takes Dream's hips in his hands. "Mmm, I'm sure we can figure it out."
Hob's voice in his ear might well inspire Dream to set aside his work. It is one of the only things that can.
"In the meantime, you need to eat something," Hob tells him, and kisses him on the cheek, and Dream knows that, exhausted from traveling or not, Hob will make him something to eat, and get him to shower and take care of himself, and then, when they've slept, will listen to Dream talking extensively about the proof he's solved, no matter that he doesn't understand it himself.
(Hob always says he's incapable of understanding it, but Dream does not think that's true. Dream is just not very good at explaining his reasoning; it's so intuitive to him that he forgets the steps necessary to make it clear to anyone else. But then, Hob often underestimates himself.)
Hob listens to him describe it anyway. Takes care of him. And he does the same now, takes Dream into the kitchen to have some water while Hob cooks him some pasta. He always takes such good care of Dream.
And Dream thinks, while sitting on the counter and watching, hazy from exhaustion and full of warmth, that one day he's going to marry him.
#littl drabble#complex mathematics#dreamling#my writing#i am hiding in the corner at a party writing fic on my phone bc socializing is horrible. help#had a few drinks and went from 'wow i love love' to 'theres no point building a life in this wretched world' within an hour so 🙂 haha
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kpanniversary2024, prompt 9: Trust
Kim realized pretty quickly why he had been attacked. Curiosity killed the cat had given it away but even without it, it was clear the reason had been to stop his investigation from advancing. The investigation about one of the most earth-shattering events that had happened in his life. Tankhun’s kidnapping. Right now, he was at a dead end. He needed a lead, anything to move his investigation forward. He had been working alone all this time but a tiny voice in his head was giving him ideas. Pete had skills. Pete was loyal, not only to his family - to Korn - but to him as well. He had proven that by becoming a human shield for him. Kim would be a fool to deny that. And Pete liked Tankhun. He had never complained like the others had, begging Korn to transfer them to him or Kinn. He was good to his brother, a fact Kim was thankful for. So maybe, it was worth a try. He knew it was a risk, such a huge risk, so many things could go wrong and yet- “Pete,” he said, his voice wavering. Kim made a decision. He made it by saying something he had been certain he would go through his entire life without uttering. “I need your help.”
(Snippet from The Knight's Pawn because I love that fic to death ❤️)
#I had like 2 other ideas that had to do with VP for this prompt#but I had zero brainworms to expand upon them today and I'm tired so take sth I've written already#this fic is probably the most self indulgent shit I've ever written#only to be topped by the yet not-fully-written sequel-but-not-really Kim(&)Pete fic I plan on posting one day#these two mean the world to me#I'm here in my little corner playing with them don't mind me#whoever wants to join me feel free#we have angst and repressed feelings we're cool here#kpanniversary2024#pete saengtham#kim theerapanyakul#snippet
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see i'm not even opposed to the concept of canon/trickster Ellu surviving but the thing is in order for it to happen there would need to be a second vulnerable conversation regarding his side of things. where he couldn't lie his way out of it either. So basically he's fucked
#unless the dlc coincidentally gives me exactly that skjgs which i doubt#it's only something that'd be achievable in a fic world where Daeran has his own sidequest he's doing in the sidelines kjdfg#he's the one that romances the kc after all might as well be paying attention#succeed any one in a series of really high dc (but decreasing through the course of the game) hidden perception checks to trigger a convo-#where he can corner the little fucker into admitting the council thing and all but say out loud he's going to throw himself into the wound#from that point on convincing him not to do it wouldn't be That hard. frankly the noticing itself is half the battle#from then on the more time they got left till threshold the easier the convincing would be but tbh again the bar isn't that high#even if he noticed at the very last moment in the room with areelu- if he said something he could sway him with little effort#cause again ellu doesn't WANT to die/get shyka'd he's just completely guilt ridden about the council-#the essences he got already and on top of that he's just convinced he'd never get a happy ending#which gets sadder the more you think on the fact that he has reality altering powers <3 and yet#anyway yes that fic exists in my head but it'll never be put to paper because writing canon characters scares me
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ur the only x reader writer for me 🧎🏽♀️🧎🏽♀️🧎🏽♀️🧎🏽♀️🧎🏽♀️🧎🏽♀️🧎🏽♀️🧎🏽♀️ nd the only one i follow (nd will ever follow) god bless 🙏🏽 and hope ur having a great day ❤️
what if i die
#no seriously if i die where are u going to get ur x reader fics... this is a practical logistical question!!!!!!#also have the best day little guy!!! i'm cheerin u on from my corner of the great wide world!!!#liv got mail
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Oh. Huh.
#they moved nagamas to ao3? which makes sense all the reasons given for it ect ect#idk if i really wanna go That out of my way for it though........ it was really fun/a huge test of my abilities when i participated#but like. this is my confession. my cardinal sin maybe. but i barely if ever read fic (and obvs ao3 is more than fic it's a whole archive)#and if i do. i'm only doing it about characters i like generally but am not really that heavily invested in.#like i can read an ike/soren. have a little fun w it. maybe aa fics. kinda fun.#but i live in a beautifyl world on an island in my mind palace where alfonse is ambiguously but distinctly queer/mlm#deeply elaborate inner world about it. so much internal lore. the alfonse that lives in my head is so important to me.#if i see anyone doing him wrong i'm going to kill them on sight. i'm so sorry. i won't even lie or joke i'm straight up not normal about it.#LIKE it used to be WORSE ACTUALLY..... i have had to grow as a person. to be nicies. so we can all play touys and hold hands.#i'm not even being dramatic. it is that serious.#i'm not vaguing i'm jusf trying to find a way to explain that sometimes.#transmasc who had an emotionally devastating breakup on account of incompatibility 🫵 are you being normal about women.#like my core point here. sometimes you do gotta self reflect on the load bearing coping mechanism#and sometimes your world gets a little fuller for it! wow! so beaitfylf.... congrasts on being nicies 😊👍#but you could not pay me to venture into ao3 about a character i'm heavily invested in. i will kill us both.#and. obvs. what. started this ramble. nagamas is probably its own thing on there#but that is too far out of my comfort zone. you cannot pull me out of this dark corner. i live here. i'll die anywhere else.#huge props and shoutouts to fic writers though like! cool valid art medium i've even considered myself#i'm too comic brained though. i'd have to hone a whole ass other skillset also. like. i'm not a stranger to writing#but i'm def rusty. and really again my one true love is words WITH images#i just. don't wanna come off like i'm shitting on fic i respect fic so much. i just don't often indulge in it#and i am. such. a high strung bitch. that is entirely a me issue. you don't gotta worry about that! 🫡#we can ALL play touys ... with each other or side by side or separately. peace and love 💖
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little mouse
{toge inumaki x f!reader}
summary: toge inumaki, the barista at your local campus coffee shop, is the cutest man to ever cross your life— the both of you clicking fast and becoming the best of friends as the years flew by together… but you were in love. uncertain of crossing that line between friendship and lovers as you focused mainly on trying to see if he even liked you back. but as for toge? he was focused on trying not to burden you for the rest of your life because of his inability to speak, wanting you and only you, but juggling and tormented over his labored silent existence, hurting you in the process.
warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, college!au, FLUUUFFFF SO MUCH, pet names, TOGE LOVES YOU BROOO, angst!!! but with comfort!!, happy ending, SMUTTTT, p in v sex, fingering, creampie, doggy hehe, mentions of alcohol and drinking, sorority party, toge is a barista ouuu, cursing, best friends to lovers trope, reader and toge argue, all characters are aged up.
word count: 15.2k
authors note: YEEEOOOOWWWWW this fic was originally NOOTTTT supposed to be 15k but i’ve said it once and i’ll say it again I CAN NEVA STOP YAPPING MY GOD??? i hope you guys love this one as much as i do though it is SOOOOOO CUTEEE man :(( thank you SO SO MUCH for your love and support as ALWAYS, AND I LOVE YOUUUU AHHH MWAH MWAH HAVE A GOOD DAY OKAY <333
anyone that was a regular at the shop knew toge inumaki didn’t really ever speak.
and it was something you found out on your first day of college, running to the nearest coffee shop at eight-thirty in the fucking morning looking for something to snack on and wake you up before lecture, choosing to go to the one just around the corner from campus through a recommendation of a friend— but not knowing at all that you were about to run into the cutest man to ever plague your god damn existence, as well as your bestest friend in the entire world.
toge was the main barista and cashier at the shop, his mixology skill incomparable as no one else on the floor could replicate it successfully without errors the way he did— ringing customers up while simultaneously throwing coffee bases and syrups in a blender, topping each corresponding one with whipped cream on various orders before sliding it over to the pick up counter, all without even breaking a sweat through the times that you’ve shamefully watched him work from your little table before or after classes.
the first time you met him, you thought he was just having a bad day… and that he also hated you.
you had politely told him your order while at the same time ogling his handsome face— a small and simple sweet vanilla cold brew drink with a little blueberry scone on the side— when toge didn’t even spare you a glance and just tapped in your order on the screen, turning the tablet over to showcase the total before moving to the back to get started on your drink, not a single word leaving his scarf covered mouth as you silently paid and got a table.
it’s not like you were expecting anything out of it, but you hoped you would at least catch the color of his eyes before you had to leave.
and it went on like that for a total of four days— you saying the exact same order but just switching up the little pastry depending on your mood (it only consisting of your usual three— blueberry scone, cake pop, and cheese danish), toge’s eyes never leaving the register or drinks he made as you waited, and him sliding over your order in record time as he got started on attending the next customer.
on the fifth day, toge finally looked up.
the way he took your order didn’t change, but when it came to placing it over the pick up counter where you stood, your eyes widened when you noticed he was already looking at you, a grin on his face as he personally handed you your drink instead of sliding it over.
his eyes were purple.
and you just about fucking screamed, your days of hopelessly coming in to try and ridiculously take longer peeks at his face whenever you could finally paying off in that moment— and not expecting whatsoever to see the sides of his mouth marked with tattooed snake eyes either.
that day was also the day you noticed toge knew sign language.
most of the time toge took orders quickly without a word and punched in requests, but from time to time when a customer had a question about a menu item or what the passcode to the bathroom was, he always had a little whiteboard next to him with a black marker to scribble out what he needed to say— regulars already knowing how he communicated and not batting a single strange eye.
but on that day, a new customer came in that you didn’t recognize to be a regular, signing to one of the confused employees at the cash register until the employee turned around and tapped toge on the shoulder, pointing and saying words you couldn’t really hear before he quickly nodded and put down the blender he was holding, going over to sign.
you were mesmerized by it, the way his hands and fingers came together and away from each other to form different words and sentences completely unknown to those who didn’t understand the language, something that was beautiful to you and made you want to actually learn so you could potentially have the liberty to talk to him some time in the future if you could.
the next time you came into the shop early in the morning, toge was at the register. and upon seeing you walk in, he smoothly looked down and started typing away already on the screen, seemingly not listening and leaving you standing there confused.
“um—” you stammered. “can i…”
you trailed off as you watched him pick up his whiteboard and uncap the marker, scribbling.
‘i remembered your order.’
you froze, your heart doing enormous leaps considering this was the first time toge actually spoke to you apart from getting your order down and smiling at you.
“oh! really?” you laughed nervously. “…do i come in here too often then?”
he gave you a friendly grin and shook his head, erasing what he had before writing again.
‘do you want a blueberry scone, cake pop, or cheese danish?’
your eyes bulged. “you know that too?!”
he laughed, the sound making your hands clammy as you giggled along with him shyly.
“i’ll do a cake pop today!” you smiled. “i’m running a little late and that’s— easy to eat.. you know—”
he gave you a thumbs up and nodded, signaling with his head for you to wait by the pick up counter as he scribbled another few words, turning the whiteboard around.
‘i’ll see you tomorrow :)’
your cheeks flushed pink.
“y—yeah!” you spoke gingerly. “i’ll see you toge.”
the next few times after that toge would absolutely beam whenever you came into the shop, having already scribbled down your three choices of your usual pastries before having it ready for you at the pick up counter once you chose, even every now and then asking you a simple thing or two about your classes and major from the register as you sat by your table, him propping his little whiteboard up for you to see.
and ever since you saw that toge knew sign language, you wanted to know too, your desire to communicate with him more efficiently a silly priority on your mind as you signed up for entry level sign language courses at your college, trying to learn as much as you possibly could so it’d be easier for him not always having to step back and write.
“wait wait!” you put your hands out one slow morning upon arriving at the shop, toge stopping mid tap on the screen just as he was about to input your order, eyeing you.
your fingers shook a little as you slowly signed your order and choice of pastry for the day, trying to remember and grasp what you practiced repeatedly the night before, hoping your efforts would successfully come across and that you didn’t look like a fucking idiot.
but his focused eyes followed your movements, carefully watching you sign with pinched brows until you eventually finished— a slow pearly white smile spreading across is face as his gaze flickered to yours before writing on his whiteboard, turning it.
‘you know sign language?’
“barely!” you sputtered. “i um.. i started taking classes a couple of months ago but i’m not very good… did you— get it though? what i said?”
he quickly nodded.
‘it was a little choppy but good! good job y/n :)’
you breathed out a sigh of relief, a hand over your hammering chest as you swallowed.
“oh thank god.” you breathed. “i was worried i looked stupid or was accidentally telling you something weird.”
he laughed and waved you off, a slight tint to his cheeks as he wrote.
‘how’s learning it overall?’
“hard as fuck.” you mumbled, but peering up at him with a smile. “i’m trying though! i really love the language and i love learning it… it’s just hard because my professor kind of sucks and teaches it too fast.”
he hummed, moving around in the back while preparing your order before coming around through the little swinging door and over to your usual table, you standing dumbfounded at the register still as he stood there with your pastry and his whiteboard.
toge pointed to your seat.
“oh!” you gasped, walking over and taking a seat, smiling gratefully once he placed your coffee and cheese danish down for you, but stiffening once he scooched the chair out across from you and sat, your cheeks ablaze again.
“you wanna—” you looked at him with furrowed brows. “you wanna sit with me?”
he laughed a little and nodded.
“but the…” you pointed to the cash register.
he uncapped his marker and wrote, turning the board over.
‘it’s a slow day. if someone comes in i’ll just go.’
“oh— okay!” you breathed out nervously, wringing your fingers together as you kept them on your lap.
your thoughts were speeding across every corner of your mind, not knowing exactly why toge chose to sit with you right now but hanging on to the moment anyways, you anxiously trying to come up with things to say to get to know him a little better.
“i like your um..” you pointed to the corners of your mouth. “—your tattoos. did they hurt?”
he smiled and wrote.
‘thanks :) and not really, my throat hurts more than the tattooing itself hehe.’
your eyes snapped up to his.
“your throat?” you asked softly. “is it okay?”
‘oh it’s fine!’ he wrote. ‘well no but it just hurts a lot when i talk so i just don’t.’
you hummed in understanding, the missing puzzle as to why exactly toge never spoke out loud to anyone in the first place finally clicking into place.
“i’m sorry toge…” you expressed sweetly. “have you tried— well i assume you have but… like getting it checked out? or maybe honey with lemon or—”
he turned his board around.
‘yeah :P nothing really works. L for me.’
you giggled, and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth in a smile.
‘can you show me what else you know in sign language?’
“ohhh this is it.” you swallowed. “you’re about to laugh in my face and think i’m stupid.”
he laughed and gave you a look.
‘you’re silly. just show me.’
you huffed before timidly showing him very basic simple phrases that you managed to pick up from class out of the millions that were shown— short choppy kiddy words that didn’t even serve to get by in a quick conversation, but enough for simple one worded responses.
“oh! and i like this one the most!—” you put the bases of your palms together and rubbed a little.
toge let out a squeaky cute laugh as he watched you before quickly picking up his marker and writing.
‘cheese? your favorite thing to sign is cheese?’
“yeah!—” you giggled shyly. “it’s funnn! and i never fuck it up.”
he nodded with a gleam in his eye.
‘i could teach you sign language if you want.’
you froze, eyes wide as you looked at him.
“seriously?” you quickly leaned forward. “are— are you sure? you definitely don’t have to at all toge… i don’t want to burden you or anything.”
his eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head.
‘not burden at all.’ he wrote. ‘i’m a lazy fart i don’t do much besides this so it’s fine.’
you giggled and nodded excitedly, a hopeful shine in your eyes as you looked at him.
“o—okay!” you agreed. “i’d like that a lot… thank you toge!”
he was so nice.
and just as he was about to write something else, a customer came through the doors and up to the cash register, toge quickly scribbling something down before standing and showing you, walking backwards.
‘i’ll talk to you later little mouse :)’
you laughed loudly, a hand flying over your mouth as you did.
that nickname stuck.
“bye toge!” you responded kindly, gathering your things before heading out for the day with your coffee and pastry.
unfortunately for you, midterm season came and knocked the absolute shit out of you for a week, you unable to go back to the coffee shop to see toge until it was all fucking over, your heart heavy over the fact that you literally failed your sign language test, but giddy and excited nonetheless to finally see him after a while and go back to your usual happy routine.
and as for toge, he was left utterly confused.
was he too forward? did you think it was weird when he called you little mouse? did you think he was weird?
was it something he did? why had you stopped coming into the shop after going in continuously for like weeks at this point?
and he had just gotten the courage to look you in the eye too.
toge literally had your order ready every single day with your three pastries warmed up and toasted if need be, your sweet vanilla cold brew drink ready to go the moment you walked through those doors at any given point and time… but you just didn’t come. him leaning on the register counter bored out of his mind and dejected over the disappearance of the pretty nice girl that always came in and talked to him at his work, ending up always drinking the coffee he made for you silently and munching on the three pastries you chose between when it was time to close.
but when you finally came in, early in the morning like you always did and looking forward to seeing him again— toge was hunched over the counter with his chin propped up on his hand like he had been for the past week, you unknowing of that as you walked over with a smile.
“hi toge!”
he shot up, eyes wide with his palms flat on the counter.
“y/n!—”
he spoke.
toge spoke and he immediately cowered over in a fit of painful sounding coughs that racked through his body, his mouth shoved into his elbow as he quickly pushed through the doors and walked to the back, leaving you there wide eyed and completely fucking shocked.
he said your name.
“toge..?” you called softly, timidly as you leaned over the counter to try and catch a look at him from inside the employee break room, still hearing faint coughing. “hey— are you okay?”
he returned to the floor chugging back a bottle of cough syrup like nothing before tossing it into the nearest bin and swallowing, snatching his marker to write on the mini whiteboard, holding it up.
‘where the fuck have you been?’
you looked at him with an apologetic little face, your eyes soft.
“i’m sorryyy!” you whined. “i’m so sorry it was midterm week for me and i was grinding so hard and i just didn’t have time to come in… it was torture.”
you guiltily bit your lip. “…are you mad at me?”
he shook his head slowly, his shoulders visibly relaxing at the confirmation that it wasn’t anything he did that could’ve potentially put you off.
‘not at all mouse :P.’ he wrote before reaching to the side and sliding over your already made coffee and three pastries, lined up.
and surprise crossed your face.
“you had it ready?” you gasped. “toge! thank you!”
you quickly opened your book bag and he placed a hand over your arm, stopping you and shaking his head ‘no.’
“no?” you asked softly. “what do you mean? i’m just gonna pay.”
toge only shook his head again with a small smile, nudging his head over for you to sit at your usual table.
your shoulders slumped. “now what would you do if i just burst out crying right now.”
he laughed loudly and let go of your arm to write, leaving a burning fuzzy feeling on your skin in return.
‘cry? why?’
“because you’re so nice!” you whined. “please let me pay. i already feel bad not coming in for a week… especially after you offered to teach me sign language.”
‘go sit down mouse. i’ll sit with you in a little bit.’
you begrudgingly stood in place before nodding and taking your drink with your bag of pastries, walking over to the side and plopping down on a seat.
toge had a bit of a rush in and couldn’t join you for nearly an hour, him constantly shooting you apologetic looks and you frantically waving him off and reassuring him that it was okay, you astronomically thankful that you didn’t have class that day until later in the evening.
but when the rush was eventually over, toge dropped down on the seat across from yours with a big tired sigh and his whiteboard, head down.
you gently poked his arm then, and he looked up.
“is your throat okay?” you asked, face serious. “and you?”
he nodded, giving you a warm smile before grabbing his marker.
‘it happens sometimes, i just slipped up. L for me again.’
you smiled sadly and retracted your hand from across the table to settle back over your lap.
“i like your voice… if that makes you feel any better.” you spoke shyly, looking down at your fingers.
toge bit the inside of his cheek and smiled cheekily.
‘thanks mouse… but i know something that’ll make me feel even better hehe.’
“what?” you asked curiously.
he wrote.
‘give me your number before you disappear on me again you little rat.’
“hey!” you whined. “i thought i was a mouse..”
he chuckled cutely and nudged your foot gently from underneath the table, erasing and writing again.
‘i’m just kidding. we need to set up those sign language lessons soon though :D.’
and at the reminder of that you groaned, body slumping over the table as toge eyed you confusedly.
“you’re gonna laugh. or be mad. or disappointed. or all three..” you mumbled, voice slightly muffled.
he poked your head repeatedly and you lifted it, chin resting lazily on the table as he looked at you expectantly.
“i failed my sign language midterm.”
toge snorted but quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, and you whined again before shoving your face back down as he quickly shook you by the shoulders, trying to get you to look up again.
“no no no i’m a disgrace i’m a failure i studied so fucking hard for nothing it’s over i’m not cut out—”
he kept shaking and delicately pinching you before you finally looked up again.
“what.” you mumbled, eyes dragging to his propped up whiteboard.
‘i’m sorry i laughed… but don’t worry you’ll pass the next one. you’ll be okay.’
“and how do you know.” you grumbled.
‘because now you have delicious me, duh :P’
you giggled softly and lifted yourself from the table, leaning back against your chair.
he gave you a warm knowing smile before writing again.
‘cheer up mouse… i promise i’ll help you.’
a slow cutesy grin spread across your face, one that made him swallow hard as you looked at him through your lashes.
“thank you toge… do you— do you work tomorrow?”
his gaze flickered up in thought before he shook his head, eyes landing back on yours.
“maybe we could start… tomorrow? if you’re free? and if— if it’s okay of course!” you stammered nervously, gnawing at your bottom lip as you waited for his response.
his cheeks fluttered pink a little before quickly nodding.
“okay!” you breathed excitedly. “great! we could do it here? or—”
he frantically shook his head no and uncapped his marker.
‘my dickhead manager will pull me to work if i’m here on my day off.’
you laughed and nodded. “okay not here then.. where? we can try my place but i already know my parents are gonna be annoying about bringing a guy over so..”
he smiled and looked down to write.
‘we can do my apartment mouse. i live alone.’
your eyes widened. “you have your own place? really?”
he slowly nodded.
“that’s so cool toge! oh my goodness i can’t wait to see it now!”
you bounced enthusiastically in your seat and he chuckled, perplexed as to why you would ever be excited to see something like that, but choosing not to question it.
‘it’s kind of small, and i mainly just sleep and be lazy if i’m not working or streaming.’
you tilted your head. “streaming..?”
he pursed his lips and looked down again to scribble, an embarrassed undertone to his face before propping the whiteboard up.
‘i play games and stream to earn extra money on the side like a little loser.’
you giggled, your eyebrows slightly furrowing before relaxing. “why would that make you a little loser toge? you’re making money while doing something you like… i think that’s really fun!”
an eager attractive grin ran across his face before quickly writing again.
‘i’m glad you think so :) but give me your number neow.’
“oh that’s right!” you beamed, taking his offered whiteboard and marker before quickly writing down your number with a heart in the corner, passing it back.
“just text me whenever and we can set a time for tomorrow okay?”
he nodded, his eyes trained to the heart you drew.
for the rest of his shift, toge spent it bouncing around between your table and back to the cash register to take orders and make drinks, seemingly finishing each beverage ten times fucking faster than usual just so he could come over and talk to you before you had to leave again for your evening class.
but you didn’t want to leave whatsoever, and you even juggled the possibility of skipping class to stay longer with toge, but the next class happened to be sign language, and you didn’t want to fail another fucking midterm by not showing up and missing material.
you threw your trash away before grabbing your book bag and slinging it over your shoulder once it was time, you slowly and timidly trying to get toge’s attention as you walked to the exit.
your shy raised hand caught his eye in between him blending and pouring drinks, toge quickly putting everything down and reaching for the whiteboard from the register, erasing whatever he had from a previous customer to write and flipping it over with a silly smile.
‘bye mouse!’ it read. ‘i’ll see you tomorrow! :P.’
and that was nearly two and a half years ago, the heart you drew in the corner of his whiteboard still there to this day as he answered questions, responded, or scribbled directions in any given situation with it no matter if it was in or outside of work— always wanting to have a little part of you with him wherever he went.
toge also kept his promise and taught you sign language, you trying so so fucking hard every waking day you spent with him at his cute little studio apartment— learning phrases and properly constructing it into sentences that actually made sense as you both sat sprawled on the floor for hours on end, him patient and kind as he watched you shakily sign and accept his gentle corrections with an open mind.
but although your sentences were continuously choppy and a little off at that point in time, they were definitely in way better condition than when you tried to study and learn it on your own… and toge was unsurprisingly a really good teacher— ten times more helpful than your literal freaking licensed professor whom you had started with, as toge would actually take the time to write and explain each concept in the best way he possibly could for you to understand.
now you were comfortable enough with it to respond in very simple sentences and phrases, but stronger at understanding it whenever toge signed to you, a plus when he clumsily forgot his whiteboard somewhere or when he just didn’t want to use it.
and ever since that first day you went over to his place to learn and study, you literally never went a day without going back again, your cute routine with him being going to his apartment every second of the day to hang out with him or do the things that you needed to do— some that could easily be done in your own space and home and room, but you refusing to for the sole purpose of wanting to be with toge all of the time, him feeling the exact same way and going as far as to giving you a copy of the key to his apartment.
(toge :D): MOUSE
(toge :D): MOUSE
your phone buzzed repeatedly just as you were walking up the steps to toge’s floor, you nearly dropping it over the uncontrollable buzz.
(toge :D): LITTLE MOUSE
(you): YES <3
(toge :D): ouuu a heart?? i didn’t know we were married :P
you let out a giggle and quickly typed a response, your face hot.
(you): mmm i don’t know my ring finger is quite literally bare right now :/ maybe next time!
(toge :D): YOOOOO
(toge :D): it’s because it’s gonna be under your pillow
(toge :D): like from the tooth fairy
(toge :D): a big shiny cock
(toge :D): I MEAN ROCK
(toge :D): ROCK I MEANT ROCK SORRY
you burst out laughing as you readjusted your book bag on your shoulder and turned the corner, nearing his apartment number.
(toge :D): …please still come over
(toge :D): oh wait that’s why i texted you! :P
(toge :D:) WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU
(toge :D): YOU’RE LATE MOUSE
(you): LMFAAOOO
(you): IM COMMINGGGG i’m literally down the hall sir
(you): but now that you yelled at me HMMMM i don’t feel like going today <//3
(toge :D): NO
(toge :D): i’m sorry i’m on my knees
(toge :D): i’m begging
(toge :D): i even brought you a blueberry scone from work
(toge :D): and i’ll buy you whatever you want
(toge :D): FUCK COME OVER NOOOWWWWW
(you): SAY PLEASE AND ADDRESS ME CORRECTLY
(toge :D): PLEEEAASSEEE MOUUSEE
you bit your lip in attempts at suppressing your giddy smile, it not really fucking working as you arrived at his door, pulling your keys out from your bag and shuffling through them to find his— one that had a tiny onigiri design on it.
(you): coming!! <33
(toge :D): so you’re saying we’re married again :P
the door clicked open upon you twisting the key in, stepping inside before closing it behind you while juggling your textbooks and locking it, toge seated on his little gaming chair when he swiveled around and waved at you with a big smile, standing.
“toge!” you gasped exhaustedly, stepping over to him. “you have got to help me please my god—”
he grabbed the textbooks from your arms and walked over to his desk, setting them down before turning back around and giving you a curious look.
‘what’s wrong?’ he signed.
“everything! everything is wrong sign language two is not for the weak oh my goodness gracious—”
you flopped down with your back flat on his bed, eyes shut in agony as he watched you amusedly.
“my professor’s teaching us grammar now and it just gets harder! i don’t know where to properly put anything or— or sign anything.”
he giggled softly and you peeked an eye open, looking at him.
‘i’ll help you mouse.’ he signed, stretching a hand out and you taking it, letting him pull you up to sit as you lazily did so.
“but i ask you too much.” you pouted. “and i feel bad every time i do, especially when you’re playing.”
he snorted, going over to his little dining table and pulling out a chair, lifting it over to his desk gaming set up area and placing it down before ushering you over with his hand.
“nuh uh.” you shook your head.
toge gave you a half lidded look and sat on the dining chair, him always saving his big comfy gaming chair for you whenever you sat with him at his desk since the first time you came over— his eyes expectant.
you deeply sighed and stood, trudging over to his gaming chair before plopping yourself down.
“you don’t have to toge… it’s okay.” you spoke gently. “you’ve been teaching me for like— two years already. my new year’s resolution was to stop bothering you about it and let you live.”
he slid his little whiteboard over and erased what he previously had, uncapping his marker and writing.
he showed you.
‘i’ll always help you and you know that :( and it doesn’t bother me you rat, i do it because i want to.’
or because he’s in love with you. either or.
you giggled and lifted your hand, your index finger erasing over the word ‘rat.’ “—it’s mouusee toge. it’s like you get off on abusing and hurting your bestest mestest friend.”
he laughed boyishly and put down his whiteboard, sliding over one of your textbooks from across the table to him and flipping through several pages, reading to try and see exactly where you were at by the sticky notes you left behind in the margins.
“don’t you have to stream today though?” you asked timidly. “like right now?”
he simply shrugged, turning a page as he reached over to write again on his board.
‘i can stream later tonight—’
he quickly turned it around again to add something just as you had finished reading, him flipping it back over.
‘—with you asleep on my bed. because you’re sleeping over. and that’s FINAL.’
you laughed loudly while leaning forward, your cheeks brewing up a little flush at the request even though you’ve slept over at his place plenty of times before— the thought of him actively wanting you to making your heart bounce around erratically in your chest.
“fuck i don’t know…” you feigned concern. “i’m not sure if i can toge i’m sorry.”
he slumped, eyes so sad that it made you almost sick to your stomach as you struggled to commit to the small bit.
‘why not?’ he signed.
“because i’m missing something.” you pouted.
‘missing?’ he signed again. ‘missing what?’
you snickered.
“my ring!” you extended your hand to him and wiggled your little fingers, you poking the tip of your tongue out to the side cutely. “the one you promised me over text.”
toge breathed out a laugh and nearly dropped dead at your cute expression, him mimicking you and sticking his tattooed tongue out before picking up his whiteboard from his lap to write.
‘i told you the tooth fairy has it :D you have to be patient little mouse.’
you giggled and put your arm down, giving him a stern silly look.
“kayyy thennn!” you dragged, sitting up in your chair and looking over your textbook. “i’ll be expecting my big shiny rock under my pillow in the morning sir.”
he saluted you and you grinned, the rest of the time being spent with toge trying to teach you as best as he could with you hopelessly following along, feeling like the dumbest bitch alive and embarrassed whenever you got something wrong.
but toge never minded, not one single bit— even when you made the same grammar mistake literally three times in a row and him correcting you each freaking time the same exact way, no sign of annoyance or frustration on his face as he worked with you.
and that’s one of the biggest reasons as to why you loved toge so much. since the moment you met him all he wanted to do was just help you, regardless of the fact if you were a stranger or not as he generously always put the things he needed to do aside for you— making sure you were always okay and getting the things you needed no matter how many times you told him he didn’t need to worry, you feeling special and appreciated whenever you were with him no matter what.
you hoped to god he felt the same… and you hoped you weren’t being straight delusional when you noticed the way he looked at you a little longer than he should have at times, or when you read too much into the casual little pecks on your head from him, or when you had told him how much you loved just studying on the floor beside him while he streamed but made a joke that sometimes you couldn’t see because it was so dark in his apartment, toge literally the next day buying you a little flower lily lamp to set and prop up right next to you so you could comfortably study, him laughing and wiping your tears when you ridiculously cried over his consideration.
so did that mean he loved you too?
“toge…” you murmured in the midst of him fixing a signage error of the word ‘before’ with his fingers.
he pointed to your hands so you could take note of the alteration he made, waiting for you to carry on then.
you smiled softly in gratitude before continuing.
“have you ever—” you pursed your lips. “have you ever um… well— actually nevermind—”
he blinked before slowly lifting his hands.
‘have i ever what?’ toge signed, and you quickly shook your head.
“nevermind! it’s okay.”
he gently nudged your foot with his, beckoning you to tell him as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
fuck.
okay if he kisses your head right now then you’ll tell him.
“i forgot toge.” you lied. “that’s why i said nevermind… oopsie!”
he laughed and leaned forward, pecking your forehead before reaching a hand up to ruffle up your hair.
fuck!
no you take it back you can’t do it you can’t—
‘silly.’ he signed, turning his attention back to your textbook and flipping a page.
he wondered what it was, but figured it would come back to you eventually and you’d tell him soon after.
by the end of the day, it was like there was an actual fucking light at the end of the tunnel for you and your sign language two class— you going from being over a thousand percent sure that you were about to pathetically fail the entire course, to having a shiny little sliver of hope because of toge’s ability to get anything through your big head and make you understand, feeling eternally grateful for him in many ways than one.
and you wanted him, so fucking bad, ever since you saw him at the coffee shop, that you thought in that moment while toge set up his bed for you to sleep in while you sat on his desk chair, dressed in his big white t-shirt and pajama pants, that if you just— maayybee tested the waters and crossed the line a little bit without it being too drastic, that you’d get your answer.
but did you want to know? what if he didn’t love you back? what the fuck were you supposed to do then?
cry and wither away, that’s what. you don’t think you’ve ever loved someone as much as you loved toge.
you hear the familiar squeaks of his black marker streaking against his little whiteboard, the sound pulling you from your thoughts and you looked up.
‘you’re so spacey today pretty. are you still worried about your class? :(‘
pretty.
“oh!” you stood. “no toge i feel a lot better about it actually because of you… thank you.”
he grinned, nodding before walking and leaning over his pc to set up his streaming session, mouse clicking away.
“toge—”
he looked over at you with his gorgeous purple eyes and you froze, cheeks heating up as your wobbly lips struggled to come together and fucking speak.
“nevermind nevermind—”
his eyes narrowed, snatching his whiteboard and quickly writing.
‘you did this earlier today too. tell me what’s wrong.’
“no.”
‘no?’ he signed. ‘tell me y/n.’
“no! not my name!” you dived dramatically on his comfy blanket filled bed and groaned. “you only call me by my name when you’re mad and i don’t like it.”
he sat next to you on the edge of the bed and pulled on your shoulder slightly, you fully turning around on your back and looking at him anxiously.
toge wished he could continuously beg you and ask you what was wrong so you’d just tell him— him at times sick of constantly having to pause and make you wait so he could get his point across, a painful fact that never left his mind and made him feel like the biggest burden in your life.
that’s why he never wanted to cross that line you both always seemed to lean over without meaning to. the line that’s kept you both on this limbo of half best friends and half more as he sometimes hugged you a lot longer or snuck in a couple of self indulgent cheek and hand kisses to your skin… but that’s as far as he’d really let himself get. toge didn’t want to permanently have you drag him along in your life no matter how much he wanted to be in it as something way more.
you deserved noise, you deserved loud love, you deserved someone who could actually speak to you— things he mourned over that he could never give you.
and he knew this. he’s known from the moment you walked into the coffee shop the very first time even though you swore up and down that he noticed you later, you unaware that he actually saw you right off the fucking bat on the first day and couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye— knowing you were going to be the biggest heartbreak of his life and ruin him if he so managed as to let you in when you kept coming back.
but toge was selfish, and he couldn’t help himself.
so he tried to compromise.
there’s nothing wrong with being just friends… right? a casual conversation between two people while he was at work? to then bid goodbye and say hello to every now and then?
except a quick conversation with you turned into ones that lasted almost his entire shift sometimes, and then casual meet ups turned into sleepovers at his apartment when he offered to teach you sign language, and then little hugs of farewell and hello’s turned into him kissing you practically fucking everywhere that wasn’t your mouth with the tightest embraces, him completely going against what he swore he wasn’t going to do and damning himself for life.
and even more so when you had joked about wanting a ring that one day, him actually going out the next day and buying you matching ones even though he didn’t even know if he was strong enough to actually give yours to you.
but toge was still freaking selfish.
because as you looked at him now, your gorgeous face anxious and thought-filled about things he wished you would tell him without worry, the outline and shape of your plush soft lips burning his pupils in such a way that it felt like a privilege, your body in his clothes—
made him want to speak the three worded phrase he was only allowed to say in his sleepy dreams if he was lucky.
“what toge?” you spoke softly, reaching a hand up to delicately card through the front pieces of his pale blonde hair, soft and silky as the outline of his tattooed snake eyes made you a little fuzzy.
he slowly shook his head, a far off look in his eye as he leaned over you, his face close and strained that your eyebrows pinched a little at his expression.
your hand proceeded to gently smooth down from his hair to the side of his cheek, cupping it and caressing over it with your thumb so lovingly that he nearly broke his oath.
if you said that you loved him… he wondered if he would crack. if you confessed and told him that you felt the same way, he juggled the possibility of ruining his own life by giving in and letting you take on the burden of his existence just to have you like he’s always wanted—
“i love you.” you told him.
toge’s big wide afraid eyes stared back at you as you smiled sheepishly, his breath caught in his throat.
“i—” you hesitated, playing with the hem of his shirt. “i really love you. like in the way where i want you to like— kiss me and stuff in your free time…”
he huffed a shocked breath, his face still just alarmed and strained and you started to believe that maybe you actually were delusional and misinterpreted things, his lack of anything making you second guess.
“i’m sorry.” you blurted. “i’m sorry i thought—”
and toge was still selfish as he let his lips fall down and crash against yours, moving so feverishly and hungrily that you couldn’t keep up as he dug his arms underneath you and around before pulling you up flush against his body, wanting you as close to him as humanely fucking possible incase he never got to do this again with you, the possibility horrifyingly still there.
“does this mean—” you spoke in between kisses, breathless. “does this mean you love me too—”
toge broke apart momentarily and quickly nodded, eyes ditzy and clouded as he panted against your lips, drunkenly lowering his head and linking his wet lips with yours again as he sloppily kissed you, laying you back down while you wrung your arms around his neck, you giddy and absolutely fucking enamored with him and that he was finally yours.
except he technically wasn’t… yet…
even when three full weeks had passed.
you still visited toge at work in the coffee shop in the mornings or the afternoon like you always did, ordering the same thing and going in to chat as he wrote his responses on his whiteboard— except now whenever rush hour would conclude, toge would greedily sneak in kisses with you at your table or hold the back of your hand to his cheek as you talked about your classes and your plans for the weekend, his conflicted mind putting his oath on the back burner for now as he tried to relish in the love he’s been wanting for so long.
and you were a little confused as to why toge hadn’t taken the initiative that night and asked you to be his girlfriend, but you didn’t complain, you too caught up in the moment when he would make out with you at his apartment in between study or streaming breaks with his hands literally all over you like a man starved, groping and squeezing at anything he could but never going over that last jump to do something intimate with you, your lovesick mind too in it to care at the moment.
that was the next compromise he made.
if you both just— just stayed this way. no official title no matter how much it pained him just so that he could continue doing these lovely lovely things with you whenever you both wanted, his mind thinking that since you both weren’t technically together that he wasn’t burdening you for life just yet, wanting to keep it this way for as long as he possibly could because toge didn’t fucking know what he was going to do when the time came for making it official.
well yes— he did know. but what he wanted to do and what he should do were two completely different things.
“togeee!” you bounded into the shop one morning, thankful that it was empty as you quickly leaned over the counter and pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek, him smiling wide with a flush to his face in response.
‘hi mouse :) <3’ he wrote on his whiteboard. ‘have you had something to eat yet?’
“i’m good im good! wait i haven’t ate but im good!” you spoke excitedly. “i come with newwsss. really fun news!”
he hummed and nodded, motioning for you to continue as he moved around in the back to get and warm up a breakfast sandwich for you.
“one of my friends from sign language told me she’s throwing a party at her sorority house and invited meee!” you beamed, hearing a little oven ping and then following him to your usual table so the both of you could sit.
toge gently slid your sandwich over upon scooting his chair up, warm and yummy as it sat pretty on a little pastel green plate and him signing ‘eat please’ as you grinned.
“and i know you told me once that you’ve never been to a college party, so i was wondering if you wanted to maybe.. come with me?”
he smiled softly.
‘when?’ toge signed.
“tomorrow night!” you responded, taking a bite out of your breakfast sandwich.
he nodded, thinking a little in his head before sliding his whiteboard over to write.
‘of course ill go mouse but it might be better without me.’
you faltered, swallowing. “without you? why?”
he erased and wrote again.
‘because i can’t talk. your friends might think it’s a little odd.’
“no they won’t.” you countered. “and that’s totally okay, toge. just bring your whiteboard.”
he snorted, shaking his head.
‘i’m not bringing my whiteboard silly that’s even worse.’
“but you’ll be with me.” you reasoned. “and i don’t really talk to anyone at school either besides her so it’s literally just you and i hanging out.”
you wiggled your brows. “and drinkinggg ehh?”
he laughed and eventually nodded, reaching across the table and taking your hands in his as he agreed to go, caressing his fingers over your wrists.
the familiar scent of coffee beans and vanilla— a scent you’ve come to know for almost three years now wafted and swirled around through your nose comfortingly, it permanently reminding you of toge and the time that you’ve spent with him.
he let go of your wrists to write.
‘how was sign language yesterday? are you still good?’
you swallowed the bite you were chewing on and held back a grimace.
“oh i’m doing horrendously again… but it’s all good! ignorance is bliss and i’m choosing hardcore ignorance right now.”
toge’s jaw dropped before he laughed in disbelief and picked up his marker.
‘you’re sleeping over at my place again so i can help you no exceptions sorry about it :p’
you giggled and nodded— saluting him, a mannerism you picked up on from him as he smiled brightly.
“but i do know this!” you exclaimed excitedly as you pressed the bases of your palms together and rubbed, signing the word ‘cheese’— your favorite.
toge laughed cutely and signed the same word back, unable to do much else as the doors chimed to the shop then and a group of students came in, toge’s chair scraping against the floor as he stood before giving you a quick kiss and a ruffle to your hair, his whiteboard in hand as he started making his way to the back.
‘i love you.’ he signed and you bit your bottom lip in a smile, your heart swelling obnoxiously as you watched him shuffle on and tap a few things into the register, nodding along to the groups order as you soon after gathered your things for your afternoon class.
and that night after toge taught you a little more sign language and helped you work on the things you were struggling with, you fell asleep rather earlier than usual on his bed— him reaching for one of his fluffy blankets and draping it over your sleeping gorgeous self and staring, slowly leaning down and pressing the softest kiss ever to your little warm cheek— his chest twisting and contorting with the desire to just fucking give in and stop his stupid ridiculous suffering, to just be selfish one last time and ask you to be his.
and maybe he could.
maybe toge could allow himself this one tiny thing— the most important pretty thing of all, he felt.
just once.
“toge?” you murmured sleepily, eyes pinching a little as you lazily reached out for him.
but what if you grew tired of him? of the silence?
he delicately took your outstretched hand and hummed in question.
“come sleep.” you mumbled. “with me.”
his eyes softened, the corners of his mouth curving as he carefully tapped his index finger against your cheek repeatedly, you straining your eyes open.
‘look under your pillow.’ he signed.
your groggy eyes narrowed in confusion, barely making out what he was signing in the dark but catching key words.
“under my pillow?”
he nodded, pointing.
you breathed in and propped yourself up on your elbow, lifting the pillow you were laying on and suddenly snapping the fuck awake.
a ring.
you shot up, sitting up fully as you looked at him.
he stood and reached over for his whiteboard and marker, uncapping it and writing for a moment before flipping it around and showing you.
‘i got us matching bestest mestest friends but also in love at the same time rings :]’
you picked it up, a dainty thin silver banned ring with a milky white heart in the middle, iridescent as it glowed against the moonlight streaming through his open window.
“toge—” you breathed out. “you actually… you actually got me a ring?”
he wrote, a sly little grin on his face.
‘the tooth fairy did mouse.’
you giggled then, a vibrant pink glow to your cheeks and still a little shocked as he took the jewelry piece from you and gently grabbed your hand, sliding it over your ring finger smoothly, his ring finger already having his shiny silver band on.
he put your hand down and grabbed his whiteboard again.
‘that ring is me promising to help you and love you and kiss you until i die.’ he wrote. ‘okay?’
you quickly nodded, absolutely cheesed as you threw your arms around his neck and pulled toge in— feeling so so happy and fresh and loved, like everything was officially falling into place after nearly three years of semi crossing lines and stolen glances and unanswered questions about what exactly you both were for the longest.
your pretty pretty face had toge in a daze as you looked at him like he carried the world on his shoulders, his mouth slowly coming closer and closer to yours before softly pressing against them— slow and tender as you tugged him down to you by his shirt until he climbed in and was in between your thighs.
each kiss exchange was sensual and a mouthful as you helped toge tug his shirt off over his head, your palms running over his bare skinned chest and back as he deepened his kisses, your hands quickly pulling your shirt off and his eyes bulging at the sight of your puffy tits snug and pretty in your bra.
you were desperate for him and didn’t even have to think twice about something like this as you reached and tugged a little at his jeans, signaling him to take them the fuck off—
‘baby.’ he signed shakily, not even sure why he was asking since he doesn’t think at this point he could stop, but needing to check in with you first. ‘are you sure?’
“fuck yeah i’m sure.” you whispered quickly and unzipped his pants, toge smiling big as he kicked his pants and everything else off, carefully helping you do the same until you were bare and vulnerable in front of him.
toge moved to place a hand on your thigh and you squeaked, suddenly bashful as you shyly covered your arms over your chest and squeezed your thighs together.
he leaned down and placed gentle soft kisses on your cheeks, patting a comforting hand over your head.
‘it’s okay mouse. you’re okay.’ he signed.
you nodded, comfort washing over you as you slowly let your thighs spread and your arms reveal you, his spit catching in his throat at the sight of your gorgeous fucking body beneath him, his dick embarrassingly already leaking a little bit of cum as you watched him pump it a few times.
‘you’re beautiful.’ he signed, and you blushed.
he drooled some spit over his fingers and slid it gently in between your folds, your bottom lip coming in between your teeth as you tried to hold back your moans, his digits prepping you while slipping through your hole deeming it fucking hard as he was completely lost in it, unaware of the way he was riling you up and already building up that familiar sensation in the pit of your tummy.
“t—toge—” your pussy clenched at the way he was fucking you with his fingers, keeping your thighs apart with his other arm as he was completely drowned in the gushy sticky sounds of your hole.
“you’re gonna make me cum and i—” you panted, cute whines slipping from your lips as he looked up at you. “—i wanna cum when you’re inside—”
his cock spasmed and a drop of cum drooped out at your yummy plea, his breathing trembling as he quickly nodded and squeezed your thigh endearingly, slowly slipping his fingers out and stuffing them into his mouth to suck your juices as he pumped his cock while lining it up with your hole.
toge sunk in his dick then, the both of you groaning at the way he filled you up so fucking nice and stretched you, your pussy literally grabbing his cock and sucking him inside easily as you gripped his shoulders tight.
“mmm!—” you whimpered, toge now slowly pumping his cock inside of you as he leaned over and propped himself up by his arms, hips tenderly and deliciously rolling in as he panted and softly whined in your ear.
you were so god damn tight, his throat literally closing at the lock you had around him as he fucked you slow and breathless, one of his hands coming down to grip your waist to try and keep himself grounded and from snapping his hips into yours brutally— him wanting to make love to you and not do that just yet.
toge ducked his head down and licked over a perky tit, your breath hitching and subconsciously spreading your legs wider as he closed his lips around your nipple— suckling and laying a flat tattooed tongue over it as you moaned.
“faster—” pant! “faster please baby—”
with a mouthful of your tit he snapped his hips up, you choking as he started going a lot quicker than you anticipated as your hand flew to your mouth to keep your moans in, your tits bouncing with every fuck.
“oh my god oh my god—”
toge suddenly pulled out and threw you over, tummy to the bed as he hauled your ass up and lined himself at your entrance again, wasting no time in pushing in and screwing you in the same pace he had before.
but this new position was an absolute delicacy as you drooled over his sheets at the way he rammed his cock, the recoil of your ass sending a shiver up his spine and roughly gripping your hips and ass in anyway he could, you screaming and whining into his pillow as a series of slaps to your ass cheeks from him echoed through his little studio.
toge was about to dump the biggest fucking load in you that it was embarrassing.
you reached a hand behind you and he quickly grabbed it, his thumb running over your skin soothingly as he pistoned roughly into your cunt, him groaning and whimpering over the squelching and leaking of your hole as he felt his dick harden— his cum on the brink of release.
“fuck fuck fuck—” you hiccuped into his pillow. “baby i’m gonna cum i’m gonna cum hah!—”
he gripped your hand harder and leaned down over you, rutting into your pussy as he heaved and pressed his lips up against your ear, choking out the word ‘cum’ so softly that it bypassed the confines of his situation, your eyes squeezing shut as the hardest fucking orgasm you had ever had in your life hit you like brick.
you felt toge’s hips snap up and still as his hot milky cum spilled through your walls with a grunt, gooey and slimy as it filled you up and left you squirming at the weight of it.
his breath fanned against your hair as he tried to calm it, his hand moving soothingly up and down your back as you weakly tried to gain back some consciousness, the both of you sweaty and spent with his softening dick sliding out slowly.
toge carefully nudged you back over and kissed you tenderly, his hands traveling from your back over to your tummy and smoothly caressing every part of you down to the sides of your thighs, eyes swelling in utter worship over you as he leaned back to look at you.
‘i love you baby.’ he signed, and you beamed.
and just as toge had finally decided to ask you to be his girlfriend then, to officially let go of the fears he had and let himself have you— there in your arms as you peppered sweet cute kisses all over his face and over his tattooed markings on the corners of his mouth, pulling him further in to rest and sleep?
toge had a horrendous day the following morning that threw it all away.
horrendous.
it started in the morning when he left your sleeping figure quietly with a kiss to your head for his shift at work that day, excited and in a never ending state of bliss from the night before as he drove to the shop.
except he had forgotten his whiteboard at home.
toge had realized when he was already fucking halfway into the drive, a full fledged twenty five minute one that he didn’t have time to go back and repeat as he pulled up to the parking lot— cursing himself for being such a dumbass and wondering how the fuck he was gonna answer specific questions from customers, especially since he was the only one really working today.
he figured he should be fine… right? usually the people that come in already know what to get and they just read it out to him.
but there’s always a few every single day without fail that ask questions toge needed his whiteboard for. and you didn’t have class that day— so the means of you coming down there were for nothing, at least not until the party later that night.
and he didn’t want to ask anything of you…
but he really needed it.
(toge :D): hi pretty mouseee i know you’re asleep i’m sorry but is there anyway you could come to the shop when you wake up and drop off my whiteboard please? i left it on the desk like a stupid fucking idiot EL OH EL
“inumaki.”
toge froze on his walk to open the shop and looked up from his phone, eyes blowing wide.
there his manager stood, who was also the owner of the coffee shop itself, a stern look on his face with crossed arms as they both stood in front of a shattered door and windows, shards of glass twinkling on the floor.
“did you lock up last night?”
toge nodded, eyebrows furrowed as he scanned the ground.
“everything?”
he went to nod again, but stopped.
he did… he did truly he did—
…oh.
he forgot to lock up and cash in the register.
toge quickly stepped over the glass and swung open the shattered door and over to the front counter, sure enough finding the register wide open and battered with not a single fucking penny left inside.
he groaned, his hands shooting up and digging the bases of his palms into his eyes as he leaned back, lips in a thin line at how utterly fucking stupid he was for forgetting to lock up the register and take in the money— the number one thing he was always supposed to do.
“what happened?” his manager asked, hands out. “have you been not locking it up?”
toge scrambled for his phone and pulled it from his back pocket, the thought of his job literally on the line because of this sending him for a fucking ride.
‘i always lock it up, honestly.’ he typed and showed his phone. ‘but i stupidly forgot last night and i can’t express enough to you how sorry i am.’
his manager sighed deeply and dropped his hands, looking over at the open register.
“you’ve consistently been one of my best.” he spoke. “but a mistake like this isn’t something small like forgetting to properly close and wipe down everything or put up the chairs.”
toge nodded understandingly, arms tightly crossed over his chest as he shamefully looked to the side, feeling like the biggest pathetic loser for doing something like this that could’ve been entirely avoided if he just did his damn job correctly.
“it’s alright.” his manager reached and patted a heavy hand to his shoulder. “it happens. it’s just unfortunate that we got broken into right when it did.”
toge looked at him.
“we can’t open today because there’s glass everywhere… so if you can stay and call up the insurance for the shop—” he pointed to the wall, their number amongst others typed and labeled. “—and file an insurance claim in any way you can for me that’d be great. i’m gonna go down to the police station and report.”
toge quickly nodded, typing again on his phone before showing him.
‘okay sounds good. i’m really really sorry and this won’t happen again.’
his manager waved him off with a smile. “don’t sweat, inumaki. i’m pretty sure i did this too when i was working except it was my works safe and not the register…”
softly chuckling, toge nodded once more and gave his manager a tiny wave as he patted his shoulder again before stepping around the glass, leaving.
regardless of being lucky enough to have such an understanding boss, toge still felt like complete and utter shit as he stood behind the counter slumped over after, on hold with the insurance company for thirty minutes now as he stared at the broken shards and the register.
you had gotten toge’s text the minute you woke up and quickly got up to get ready, not even bothering to change into anything different as you left with his pajamas on you and his little whiteboard, hopping into your car and speeding off knowing how much he needed it for work sometimes.
and when you pulled into the shops parking lot, confusedly already noticing scattered glass on the concrete walking up, you froze in front of the coffee shop upon seeing the windows and doors completely shattered— toge propping his forehead up with his palm on the counter solemnly.
“toge?”
he looked up.
“what happened?”
his shoulders dropped in relief and he slowly came around the counter, opening his arms a little and pulling you in as he buried his face into your hair, sighing.
you hugged him back. “are you okay? did this happen right now?”
he shook his head and stepped back, taking the whiteboard from you.
‘someone broke into the shop last night. but i forgot to lock up the register and cash in the money so they stole that too.’
“oh my god!” you gasped, hands flying over your mouth. “fuucckkkk was your manager mad? don’t tell me he fired you—”
toge erased and wrote before flipping the board over.
‘no just disappointed. but i still feel like such a fucking moron for forgetting and i hate that i did.’
“toge..” you sighed sadly, running your hands over his upper arms. “it’s okay you’re human baby. these things happen so don’t feel like that please..”
he nodded a little before ducking down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
you smiled and looked around.
“seeing the shop like this is nuts.”
he hummed in agreement.
toge stuck around for a little while, you next to him behind the counter still waiting on hold with the insurance company, feeling awfully bad for keeping you here when he knew you wanted to go shopping for a dress for the party, but him stupidly forgetting again that he couldn’t speak— too caught up in trying to make it up to his manager for his fuck up to think about how exactly he was going to talk to the insurance company on the other line, you demanding to help him.
sometime down the line when the insurance claim was filed, toge’s manager told him that if he wanted to open up the shop for the day he could, and to just sweep up the glass a little from the ground and fix up the place a little so it didn’t look like they just got robbed.
and because toge was still in his self dreaded state of guilt and shame over what happened, he immediately agreed to, trying to make up for his mistake and see if he could double the shop’s earnings for today.
“i could stay toge let me stay.” you pushed, but he only shook his head and sent you off to do the things he knew you needed to do with a pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek, telling you he’d see you at his place to get ready for the party.
but maybe toge was better off telling his manager a bit fat no and going home with you, because it was like everybody that came into the shop following that had eaten a big bag of dicks and salvaged the biggest fucking attitudes out of it to spit back in his face.
no one was understanding him. no one. not a single soul. even when he used his whiteboard to explain everything that certain customers needed, for some reason the extra effort of them having to just read putting them off and yelling and making toge’s shift a living hell.
and it’s not like he’s never managed shifts on his own either— never having an issue and still putting in and preparing orders efficiently like he was supposed to, but he figured the debacle from this morning was setting him off since he couldn’t do anything right at the moment, the attitude he was getting from literally every single fucking customer leaving him wishing he at least had one more person on the floor with him.
but toge was still blaming himself.
why couldn’t anyone understand him? why couldn’t he just speak? his life would be so much easier if he could… and you would’ve been his a long time ago.
so as toge sat there tiredly after work with his eyes closed on a stool next to you in his bathroom, you applying the finishing touches to your hair and makeup— you could practically feel toge’s exhaustion, frustration, and sadness seeping into your skin and insides over the shift he told you he had, your eyebrows pinching anxiously.
“we don’t have to go baby…” you murmured, looking down and playing with the rings on your fingers. “i would much rather stay here with you so you can relax for a little…”
he slowly peeled his eyes open, the sight of you standing there in front of him— so fucking beautiful in your dress and heels and dolled up in the way that you were, made his cheeks buzz pink as he slumped forward and mushed his cheek up against your tummy, wrapping his arms around you and shaking his head.
“are you sure?” you asked gently, running your fingers over his soft hair. “i don’t mind what we do toge… as long as with you i’m okay.”
his heart jumped as he looked up and gave you a cute smile, nodding.
you’d decided to meet in the middle and just go home early so toge could have enough rest for his shift tomorrow, him driving you both to the sorority house and parking a bit down the street amongst dozens of other cars, a little nervous and apprehensive and wondering what he was gonna do if any of your friends came up to talk to him— but the desire to make you happy and accompany you to something that you were so excited for far, far greater.
the night went smoothly for the most part, you in no time at all spotting your friend that initially invited you through the crowd along with some of your other friends that you had no idea were coming in the first place, introducing toge to each one and him giving a small smile and wave in response as he interlaced your fingers and gladly let you lead him to wherever you wanted through the dark and blue lit house, taking sips occasionally of the tequila orange liquor mix from his red solo cup and funnily from yours too— since you had gotten a different punch like flavor that he liked better.
“y/n? i didn’t know you were coming!”
your head snapped to the voice just as you were talking to toge, your eyes widening and a huge smile spreading across your face.
“oh hey! i didn’t know you were either!” you quickly turned to toge. “he’s in my sign language class the one i told you about that teaches us how to cuss—”
your friend laughed, “you talk about me y/n? interestinggg.”
toge quirked a brow.
“not like that—” you slapped his shoulder. “i talk about you so i can build up the stamina to rat you out.”
he gasped dramatically. “says the one who bothered me last class to teach her how to sign the word cunt.”
“no i didn’t— wait actually i did.”
your friend laughed again but diverted his attention momentarily to someone pulling on his arm a bit.
toge nudged you gently and you turned.
‘i’m gonna go get a drink mouse.’ he signed.
“okay!” you nodded. “i’ll wait for you here.”
he nodded, kissing your head before leaving— the kitchen not too far from where you both were originally at as he walked and threw away the drink he had initially and scanned the counter, looking for the fruity punch one you got before spotting it and picking one up from the rows of others, the smell of alcohol filling his nostrils.
“hey sorry to bother, which flavor is that?”
toge froze and looked over, a girl standing there and pointing at his cup.
oh shit.
toge pointed to his cup.
“yeah, which flavor is that one? i’ve tried the others but not that one yet.”
oh fuck.
why couldn’t he just talk?
the girl quirked a brow at his silence, and just when she was about to say something else, someone came through the kitchen.
“i think that one’s tutti frutti but i could be wrong.”
she turned to the other person and nodded, giving toge an awkward look before walking around him to get a cup for herself.
toge covered his eyes with a hand in complete fucking mortifying embarrassment, cheeks warm as he leaned against the kitchen sink in the lowest low he had ever lowed.
or so he thought.
because the sound of your loud pretty laughter had him slowly looking up and taking his hand away, you conversing so— so openly and freely with your friend from sign language triggering a hint of jealousy and bitterness in his chest. bitter as to why he was cursed to deal with something like this, bitter over the loser that was blatantly obviously flirting with you… but jealous of him that he was able to open his mouth and speak to you in whatever words and phrases he wanted, syllables flying out without any sort of pain or blood as a paying price like he had to.
that’s what you needed… that’s what you should have. not him.
not his inevitable silence and whiteboards and constant pauses, his lack of being able to tell you how much he loved you and how much you meant to him whenever, wherever… without being tied down to a marker or a phone.
his mixup from this morning, his customers not understanding him, everybody else not understanding him, has led him to believe that someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t carry the burden of even trying to.
toge knew from the very first time you came into the coffee shop that you were going to unknowingly break his heart if he let you in because of his situation… and fuck did he let you in.
and now he had to break yours so you could find and be with what you deserved.
toge walked over to you then, head down with his jaw tight and mind fogged over as you doubled over in laughter over something your friend said.
“wait—” you gasped. “wait toge he just told me that—”
“is he your boyfriend?” you friend asked, pointing to him.
well, toge still hadn’t really asked you… but he gave you a promise ring, and you were both wearing them tonight so—
your eyes snapped to toge, who was shaking his head no.
…no?
your brows furrowed.
“oh! i thought you guys were together, my bad.”
toge twitched over the way your friend sounded relieved, but you didn’t notice a thing, still looking at him with the most gutting look that made him want to scream.
“yeah.. my bad too.” you mumbled, your friend not catching it as he then got pulled by the shoulder to a different crowd, him calling over that he would come find you later on in the night.
“no?” you repeated to him.
‘come with me outside.’ he signed before slowly walking and leading you back to the kitchen and through the backyard doors, the chilling cold night air a refreshing break from the stuffiness inside.
“if this is a joke it’s not that funny toge.” you mumbled, hugging yourself as you closed the door behind you.
he looked at you sadly.
‘you shouldn’t be with me mouse.’ he signed.
“what?” you breathed out. “what are you talking about?”
‘i can’t give you what you need.’
“what i need?”
he nodded. ‘it won’t work. you and me.’
“toge—” your chest picked up speed, tears prickling a bit at your eyes. “you’re telling me all of this yet no answers— why won’t we work.”
‘you should be with someone that can talk to you and tell you that they love you and say anything without all of this baggage—’
“wait wait slow down i can’t—” you put your hands out. “you’re signing too fast i can’t understand you—”
you couldn’t understand him.
and toge realized that the reasoning he had would be something that you would counter and fight for, and something he would more than one hundred percent give in to you winning just so he could have you again.
he needed to make you hate him so it would be easier for you to move on.
toge dropped his arms, a defeated look on his face as he shoved a hand in his pocket for his phone, typing out a message to you.
you received it on the other end, your phone illuminating your face as you opened it.
(toge :D): i realized after we confessed that this isn’t what i want anymore and im sorry
your jaw dropped, eyes narrowing as you looked up at him.
“what the fuck do you mean.”
his thumbs shook as he typed, his heart pulling and screaming at the muscles and nerves tied to them for him to stop.
(toge :D): we’re better off as just friends. i’m really sorry that i realized after the fact. you deserve someone better anyways and i just don’t think it’s with me.
you let out a sob that ripped him to shreds, hand coming over your mouth in disbelief as you stared at the blurry screen in your grasp.
he realized this after the fact? after messing around with you for almost three years? after confessing to you and saying he loves you? after being intimate?
you felt fucking used.
“you’re realizing this now?” you shook your head. “toge— you realize we’ve been flirting like this for as long as we’ve known each other and all of a sudden you’re pulling back? after you got your fucking fill? after kissing me and telling me that you love me, and— and after—”
you ran an exasperated trembling hand through your hair. “toge we had sex and you’re telling me this isn’t what you want?”
god this is everything he wants.
but toge bit his tongue, him strained all over with a locked painful jaw as you yelled at him, his eyes glossy over how much he was hurting you as he stiffly nodded.
you stepped closer, jabbing a finger to his chest. “look at me in the eyes right now and tell me if our entire fucking friendship before leading up to our bullshit confessions was all a lie. tell me right now if this—” you held your hand up, the promise ring he gave you shimmering under the fairy lights of the backyard. “—was a lie when you promised me that you would always help me and love me.”
toge breathed in and out shakily, swallowing thickly as he slowly nodded, his entire body in absolute detriment.
holy fucking shit.
how long had you been this stupid for you to not realize the kind of person he actually was?
but— but it didn’t make any sense. this wasn’t toge. this wasn’t toge at all you didn’t know who the fuck you were yelling at right now because toge would never do this to you.
“do you know why i’m learning sign language in the first place?”
toge blinked back tears, shaking his head no.
“i started taking sign language for you, asshole!” you sobbed. “when i was stupidly crushing on you at the shop before we talked for the first time, i noticed you knew sign language and i signed up for you so it’d be easier for you to communicate with me without always having to use your whiteboard.”
he felt a pang to his heart, harshly wiping his eyes.
“but even then i don’t fucking care toge! you could have absolutely nothing to talk to me with and i’d still love you and do anything for you because that’s how much i’m in love you!”
you sobbed as your shoulders shook violently, hands covering your eyes.
“glad to know the feelings not mutual.”
oh he takes it back.
he takes it all back.
toge reached for your hands and you pushed him away.
“you’re so full of shit toge.” you sniffled. “if this is what you want then fine. take this fucking—”
you slipped the ring off from your finger and threw it at him, the feeling of it thudding against his chest and clinking to the ground beneath his feet close enough to a damn bullet.
he shook his head frantically, picking up your ring and following you up the steps of the porch, grabbing your hand and pulling you back, but you only shaking it off and trudging on forward.
“mouse—” he spoke. “please stop—”
the sound of his rare voice made you freeze in place, unmoving and feeling guilt pool in your stomach at the sound of him reeling over and coughing violently as a result.
he spoke to you… but his dreaded words from earlier still lingered in your mind, betrayal etched into your chest like a tattoo.
“don’t call me that.” you mumbled over your shoulder, swinging the door open to the kitchen and slamming it shut.
toge heard nothing from you for four weeks.
even through all of the calls and texts he sent you, he started to conclude that you actually blocked his number the moment you left him that night, unable to see his actual explanation through the masses of messages he sent you and still continued to even after confirming the thought that you had blocked him.
he couldn’t believe himself. he couldn’t believe he actually hurt you and drove you away like that.
and toge had never felt so much self hatred, missing you like fucking crazy throughout those weeks— it reminding him of that one time when you first started getting to know each other where you disappeared for a week, except far far worse now that you had both built so much together over the years.
his life felt empty now that you weren’t in it.
and funnily enough, his job— something he had gotten before you, now solely reminding him of you as he tried to work without throwing something over the random flashbacks he’d have of that night, blending and serving drinks and sliding them over the pickup counter all meaningless if you weren’t there at your usual table to give him a cheeky smile and sign the word ‘cheese’ to make him laugh on the other side.
his little mouse.
and toge silently cried almost every night at his desk, him clutching your ring.
you were basically the same way as him, if not fucking lower as you were the one that was practically presumably dumped and used, you unable to sleep for hours on end in your bed and your parents wondering what the hell happened between the two of you as they tried to console your tears through your restless nights, you half in denial that this was your reality and toge was out of your life.
after some time, you realized that you had left nearly half of your things in toge’s apartment, it settling into your mind how much time you actually spent with him and not at your own house as you constantly found yourself needing things but couldn’t have them because they were over there— one of those things unfortunately being your freaking sign language textbook.
there was absolutely no way you could get it, and you opted to borrowing your friends for the longest time… but by the time you reached the beginning of the fifth week without toge, you started feeling really bad for continuously bothering your friend for her book when you could just suck it up and get yours.
so you made your jumbled mind up and reached for your phone one day after your morning class, going to toge’s contact number and unblocking him before texting.
(you): hi. sorry to bother but i left some things in your apartment that i need. i was wondering if i could come by today to get them.
toge nearly jumped out of his skin at your pretty name flashing across his phone while he was lazily and depressingly laying in bed, scrambling to type back not even a minute later.
(toge): yes of course
(toge): i’m home right now if you want to come
(toge): and you’re never a bother
you pursed your lips, a lump building in your throat.
(you): okay. i’ll be there in a few minutes.
toge flung his scattered clothing inside his closet or literally anywhere that was out of eyesight, trying to turn his rut of a room back to how it looked like when you were always here, shaking out a big garbage bag and throwing all of his trash in there (along with all of the cake pop, cheese danish, and blueberry scone wrappers…), opening the blinds and straightening out his sheets.
you pulled into his apartment complex parking lot and parked not too long after, your hands drenched in sweat and your body rigid as you came up to his floor and over to his apartment number, knocking even though you had the key.
you almost turned back to leave once you heard his padded footsteps, but decided against is as he was already opening the door.
and my god, seeing him hurt a lot more than you thought it would.
his eyes were soft as they looked at you, and red like yours, him quickly stepping to the side to let you in and you doing so with your head down, not saying a single word.
“i think—” you shakily spoke, eyes already watering as he closed his door with a click. “i think i’m just gonna get my sign language textbook for now i’ll come back some other time for the rest—”
you felt a little tug at your hand, and you turned, his shoulders slumping at your teary eyes, stray droplets slipping down your cheeks already.
‘please don’t cry.’ he signed. ‘i’m so sorry for everything.’
you snorted, shaking your head as you reached behind you to get your textbook.
“sorry for stringing me along and using every part of me until you were bored? sure.”
he frantically shook his head no, panic rising in his chest as he watched you step around him and head for the door.
he couldn’t let you leave.
because he had a feeling if he did, he actually would never see you again.
toge quickly grabbed your wrist and tugged you back around.
“what toge—”
‘stay for a bit.’ he shakily signed. ‘please just stay and let me explain.’
you followed his signage, and your eyes narrowed. “explain what? there’s nothing to explain—”
toge swiped his phone from his bed and opened it, going to your contact to type out a message.
you hesitantly pulled yours out and waited, your phone vibrating against your hand once he sent it over.
(toge): i lied about absolutely everything i said that night. i don’t think any of those things at all. i’ve wanted you so fucking bad from the start y/n, i’ve been ready to be with you i don’t think for a second we’re better off as friends i want more with you always and for the rest of my life.
what?
he sent another message.
(toge): i said what i said because throughout our friendship i told myself like a fucking idiot that i couldn’t let you all the way in because i can’t talk. i kept thinking that you needed someone who you can talk to you whenever you want without having to always step back and read or write like you have to with me. i didn’t want you to carry that baggage and deal with me and i just felt like a burden, and i love you so fucking much that i wanted better for you.
you sniffled and wiped your cheeks, you rubbing away lonesome tears that landed on your phone screen.
(toge): but i’m selfish baby i’ve BEEN selfish. i said those horrible things to you so it’d be easier for you to move on and im so sorry. none of them are true. i don’t want you to move on from me. i didn’t use you i could never and that night we had sex was the most meaningful experience of my life. i love you more than anything in my life, and im gonna be selfish again and please ask you to come back to me. you’re my best friend and more, and i still believe that you need someone better and that can give you more than i can, but i just can’t let you go man i’ve been physically sick for four weeks without you.
you cried still and he typed again.
(toge): i’m selfish and i’m in love with you mouse. i’m sorry.
“toge!” you cried and chucked your phone to his bed, flinging your arms around his neck and pulling him in a tight embrace— the weight completely lifting off both of your shoulders at the feeling of your bodies pressed against each others like a perfect little key in a lock, toge hugging you back so so fucking tight with his face in your neck that he practically squeezed the air out of your lungs entirely.
“i love you.” he spoke, his words incredibly powerful in your ear even though it couldn’t have been more than a mere whisper, the sound and depth of his voice ringing through your head and one you wanted to remember forever and ever, feeling so incredibly loved over the fact that he’d use his voice for you even when it hurt him so much.
but he really didn’t need to. you just wanted him.
and you’ve never been so happy to hear someone tell you that they lied.
toge pulled back a bit and turned his head to the side, stuffing his mouth into the crook of his elbow and coughing.
you pressed your cheek against his once he was done, kissing it a few times beforehand and him closing his eyes at the feeling of your lips on his skin after so long.
“you okay?” you murmured softly, and he nodded.
“i love you too, toge.” you tightened your arms around his neck. “please don’t ever think that you’re a burden or giving me baggage to carry. i’ve never ever felt that way and neither should you.”
you stepped back and cupped his cheeks.
“i need you, baby. i don’t need anything or anyone else but you. someone that has the ability to talk can’t give me even ten percent of what you’ve been giving me. i’m happy with you. the happiest i’ve ever been is when i’m with you… okay?”
toge grinned, huge and shiny as he nodded and leaned forward and captured your lips in a kiss— the both of you utterly deprived as your mouths smacked and moved in haste, his hands running and squeezing over your body with labored breathing between the two of you.
he pulled apart for a second and you stopped.
“what baby?” you breathed, watching as he raised his arms.
‘please be my girlfriend mouse.’ he signed. ‘or i’ll die.’
you giggled cutely and a blush rose on both of your sore cheeks from smiling so much, you happily nodding and roughly pulling him back in to continue.
and how lucky was toge to have such a sweet little mouse that cared for him this much? for someone who couldn’t even speak? who had the greatest level of patience and not once ever complained about the burden she had to carry?
you learned sign language for him. solely for him. the reasons he was thinking about how he’d be baggage to you, was amazingly the total opposite on your end, as you didn’t want to be baggage to him when it came down to communication with you— as if something like that were ever even possible.
and you learned sign language for him— a totally beautiful and different and complex language that was iterated through the feeling of arms and body, to be read across with purposeful moving hands and symbols and diligent fingers— somehow looking even more beautiful when it was you that was doing it.
silence was toge’s greatest form of love… one that you received with open arms and acceptance without a twinge of judgement in your heart, and one that toge only ever wanted you to receive.
you.
his little mouse.
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#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#yuta okkotsu#gojo satoru#jjk fanfic#jjk x you#geto suguru#geto suguru x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk fluff#toge inumaki x you#toge inumaki x reader#toge inumaki#inumaki toge#gojo x you#jujutsu gojo#gojo fluff#gojo smut#jjk yuuta#jjk megumi#jjk geto#jjk gojo#jjk x reader#jjk smut#gojo x reader#nanami kento#choso kamo#toji fushiguro#nanami kento x reader#choso x reader
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FIREFLIES NEVER CAME ; SATORU GOJO
synopsis; your seat is close to the heater. that’s the only reason gojo comes there to warm up.
word count; 4.2k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, teen!satoru, set in a canon au, mutual pining, fluff, a little bittersweet (melancholic winter vibes <3), introvert/extrovert, reader is antisocial and dense as a brick (black cat vibes :3), also kind of self-deprecating, satoru is very shoujo manga coded, just lots of puppy love!! feat. wingman!suguru <3
a/n; this wasn’t meant to be a fic …… it was gonna be really short and sweet ……… (T_T) anyway i am very fond of this reader/character dynamic so i hope you enjoy reading abt my emotionally stunted kids 🫶 biggest mwah in the world dedicated to professor logan (@staryukis) for teaching me about physics so i could find a loophole in satoru’s infinity :3c all for the sake of lore-accurate (kinda) fluff <3
”what are you listening to?”
your seat is close to the heater.
it was nothing but a lucky draw, really. yaga-sensei was organizing the desks when you transferred, and so he gave you the first choice; one you had no trouble making, latching on to the chair in the very back, right by the window, right by the sole heater of the room. vital for surviving your chilly winter classes.
so there you sit. a warmth sneaks through your fuzzy socks, tends to your restless legs. your feet tap and tap, on the cold floorboards, in rhythm with your never-ending thoughts, spinning like a planet in orbit.
through the fogged-up, frosted glass of the window to your left, you observe the world. headphones covering your ears, safe and snug, muffling all noise. you watch as snow falls, wholly entranced, eyes stuck on the icy snowflakes descending from the wool-gray sky — blanketing the frostbitten landscape of the courtyard. it’s pretty, all those skeletal trees, glittering and gleaming like they have something to say. sometimes they look like stars.
”… hey. did you hear me?”
gojo is being particularly chatty, today.
out of the corner of your eye, you see him wave his hand right in front of your face. you’re almost certain he doesn’t realize that it’s rude; he must be used to all eyes being on him, from the moment he speaks.
with a flutter of your lashes, you lift your weary head. meeting his gaze, the blurry shine of your own visage, reflected in his circle-frame glasses. a soft tilt of his head, and then his lips are twitching upwards, just barely, snowy strands gliding across his forehead and falling over his face. like an excited puppy.
”what are you listening to?”
you read the words off his lips, all sound muffled by your headphones. quick to lift one of your hands, pulling one one of the heavy ear cushions away — letting all white noise in the room flood your senses. the snarls of the wind outside, ieiri’s laughter, the scribbling of geto’s pen against paper.
it’s overwhelming, but a small price to pay. his voice is softer than usual, during moments like these; there’s a pleasant lull to it.
gojo tips his head to the right, still awaiting your response. all you can do is stare, watching your own reflection, fingers gripping onto the edge of your desk. as if seeking to ground yourself.
with a spoonful of hesitance, you part your lips.
”… do you like music?”
the words seep out into the air, a softly exhaled breath. gojo watches you, silently, for just a moment.
then he gives you a shrug.
”i guess?” he hums, shifting his weight from one foot to another — hand slipping into the pocket of his uniform. ”that’s more suguru’s thing.”
ah.
your mouth forms around the syllable, as if responding, but not making any sound. gaze fleeing from his glasses, crumbling under their weight, straying towards the frosted window to your left. safe, familiar, rotting trees and twitching branches. snow just as pure as the boy in front of you.
silence overtakes you both, once more.
”... not gonna answer?” he asks, with another tilt of his head, absently rocking side to side as he lets out an exhale. ”is it a secret, or something?”
(it is, you think. but you can’t say it out loud.)
before you can part your lips again, the classroom door slides open — and you know it’s yaga-sensei just by the way his feet hit the floorboards, the decisive weight behind every step. you know even before he’s telling you to get back to your seats.
on cue, gojo stands up straighter, shooting you another glance. bright-eyed, easy-going, every star in the sky leaping out from the glimpse you get of his eyes when he angles his body. two blue pools, flecked with white, like frozen puddles in the street.
and then he’s strolling away.
gojo leaves, and you take off your headphones; stretching your legs underneath the desk. reaching for your ballpoint pencil, flipping open your textbook, and indulging in sleepy blinks, as yaga begins to drone on and on. you stifle a yawn with the sleeve of your blazer, resting your jaw on the heel of your palm. eyes inevitably straying towards a head of white hair.
but your name is called before you can get lost in your daydreams.
”page 27, from the top.”
your chair scrapes against the floorboards, as you sluggishly stand up. holding onto your textbook, flipping the pages until you land on the correct passage. with shaky hands, not enough to notice, you read out loud; voice controlled, almost monotone. all you can think is that you feel his frost-clad eyes on you, from the row straight ahead.
but you continue to speak. you speak until you reach the end of the page, until you’re allowed to take your seat again, happy to feel the warmth of the heater radiate against your legs. it’s this warmth that’s important, the most important thing of all.
without it, gojo wouldn’t bother to stop by your desk.
nearly every recess, as soon as yaga leaves the classroom, he’s waltzing over — leaning against the wall, stretching his arms out, purring contentedly as heat spreads throughout his body. you think he must run cold. chatting with you, just to pass the time, just until your teacher comes back. just to warm up.
then he’s leaving, again.
that’s all it is. a cold boy, and a heater by your desk — a conversation that otherwise wouldn’t have occured. even the strongest is vulnerable to changes in temperature, you suppose.
if warmth is all that binds him to you, it’s bound to dwindle away.
(you’re sure he’ll stop as soon as spring comes.)
the next day, gojo is nowhere to be seen. you saw yaga-sensei drag him out of the classroom this morning; something about a clan meeting, something you weren’t paying attention to.
but now you wish you had.
(it’s quiet, without him around. eerily so.)
with nothing to lose, and nothing else to do — you push your chair away from your desk, and walk up to your classmate, a question on your mind.
”… music? are you looking for recommendations?”
you nod.
geto blinks. caught off guard, you’re sure, surprised that you’d approach him without any prior coaxing. he’s usually the one striking up a conversation with you, like a responsible class president, making sure the weird kid doesn’t feel left out. you’re almost certain he doesn’t realize that it’s patronizing.
”hmm... well, that depends.” he gives you a smile, soft around the edges. it never feels as genuine as gojo’s, but it’s calming. ”what kind of music do you usually listen to?”
…
you glance down at the floor. bundling up the cuffs of your uniform, fingers clawing softly at the fabric, bottom lip trapped between two sets of teeth.
”… what kind of music does gojo like?”
silence. your words are barely spoken, just above a whisper, just like always, but geto picks up on them anyway. you can tell he does, can feel the weight of his keen eyes on your face. analytical.
then he parts his lips.
”… ohhh.” a low hum, ripe with meaning, buzzing at the bottom of his throat. the corners of his lips quirk up into a knowing smile. ”i see.”
heat rushes to your cheeks, blossoms under your skin. if he notices, he’s even more composed than you thought he was, because he doesn’t mention it. only continues to speak, in that soothing voice, crossing his arms in silent thought.
”hmm…” you follow his gaze, out towards the window, the same webs of frost as always. it’s not snowing, but you still can’t see the blue of the sky. ”i’ve never seen him listen to music before, so i wouldn’t know.”
you can’t help but deflate, at that.
geto only smiles. exhaling, through his nose, mildly humoured — though he’s good at hiding his amusement. ”… what do you think that means?”
a blink. your lashes flutter, as you gaze up at him.
”… huh?”
”satoru doesn’t listen to music, but he wants to know what you’re listening to.” he says the words almost coachingly, like he’s listing off a string of numbers. you realize he must have been listening in on your conversation, but it doesn’t bother you nearly as much as his tone. ”what do you think that means?”
…
(you haven’t got a clue.)
geto lets out a chuckle, laced with mirth, no longer trying to hide it. paired with a soft shake of his head, a crinkle to the corners of his eyes. ”why do you want to know about his taste in music, then?”
(… that’s a good question.)
he seems to notice your hesitance, your apprehension, the way your teeth seek to trap your bottom lip; always the victim of your muddled mind. you know the answer, of course you do — but it isn’t something you want others knowing.
thankfully, geto breaks the silence for you.
”i don’t think you need to try so hard, when it comes to him.” his voice is soft, almost sincere, something warmer than usual. glancing away when you meet his eyes. ”… he isn’t worth the effort, anyway.”
but that’s where he’s wrong.
satoru gojo is a special case. a special person. in the orbit of your life, there’s no star you’d rather keep — no one quite as ripe with colour.
geto couldn’t possibly understand, because gojo is always with him — always orbiting around him. he always will, until you graduate, probably even beyond that. geto has him. they’re the strongest, a pair, always matching their steps to one another. but you only have these quiet days, these chilly classes in between never-ending missions — and that’s all.
when the frost outside the window thaws, gojo will surely stop visiting your desk. your lonely little world.
that’s exactly why — you need to find a song. if you just teach him about something wonderful enough, if you can give him something other than warmth…
(… maybe he’ll stay with you even after spring comes.)
”next time, why don’t you say what’s on your mind?”
geto’s suggestion breaks you out of your thoughts. when you raise your head, to meet the warm pools of amber in his eyes, he gives you a smile. there’s nothing patronizing about the way he’s looking at you now — if anything, you think it may even be slightly fond, but you can never tell what he’s actually feeling. he’s frightening, like that, always a mirror to whatever situation he finds himself in. a chameleon, tilting his head at you.
… though you can’t help but fall victim to the kindness in his eyes. the velveteen purr of his voice.
”i’m sure he’ll appreciate that.”
a nervous pit opens up in your chest, an empty space that gnaws incessantly at your heart. will he?, you want to ask, but it feels like the words are made out of lead. you can’t get them out of your throat.
”… okay,” is all you end up whispering, a soft lull of your tongue. ”i’ll try… thank you.”
geto rewards you with a full smile.
”don’t mention it.”
spring is closer than you thought.
it’s all you can think, when you step onto the pavement, when you feel the morning air gnaw at your frostbitten cheeks. it’s freezing, it’s winter, but the signs of changing seasons are still there — a lonesome snowdrop, the crackle of an icy puddle beneath your feet. the frost is beginning to thaw.
in a month or so, spring will be here — there’s no stopping it.
”did you bring your card?”
your headphones rest around your neck, allowing you to listen in on your classmates' conversation. all four of you are together, for once, all first-years, walking towards the nearest konbini — at gojo’s insistence.
it’s been a week since you had that talk with geto, but you still haven’t made any progress with him.
”huh? was i supposed to?”
”… are you kidding me?”
you glance up at the pair. always walking just a little bit ahead, their tall statures obscuring the view in front of you; shoko lags behind, with lazy steps, a trail of tobacco drifting out into the crispy air. all while snowflakes fall from the sky, gently, landing in your hair, on your shoulders, melting on the inside of your palm when you hold it out to catch them. watching as they turn into droplets of water, slip through the gaps between your fingers.
someone taps your shoulder.
geto has snowflakes stuck in his hair. they’re melting, in the strands of ink-black framing his face, matching the colour of the thick polo jacket he’s wearing. a bright red scarf is tied around his throat, and there’s a weighty look in his eyes — something telling.
a silent cue.
he falls back, slowly but surely, into ieiri’s lazy pace. not before murmuring something unintelligible to gojo, and shooting you a wink — one that makes you frown, confused, a low heat blooming at the base of your spine and crawling up your neck.
and then you realize what he’s done.
gojo is looking right at you, through the black glass of his specs. only wearing a baseball jacket, no gloves or scarves to keep him warm, despite the harsh bite of the open air. for a guy who runs cold, he must not put much thought into his clothing.
more importantly…
it’s just the two of you, now.
you blink at him, silent as a mouse. it only takes a moment for him to start moving, for you to follow, taking your place beside him while staring right ahead. if he’s bothered by geto slinking away, he doesn’t show it — only continues to walk.
”… that’s so unfair.”
gojo’s voice breaks the silence. you turn your head to gaze at him, the way his lips wrap around the vowels, haphazardly hanging onto every word he speaks.
”just ’cause i have clan money,” he kicks at a pebble on the side of the road, wisps of white hair swaying with a shake of his head, ”suguru thinks i should pay for our snacks. isn’t that unfair?”
you hesitate. then you nod along, absently.
he seems to take that as a yes, because it makes him brighten — as if gleaming with your approval, standing a little straighter, puffing out his chest with an exhale that turns into white smoke.
”right? they only give it to me because they want me to come back to kyoto, anyway…” he trails off, holding the tip of his tongue between his lips. ”… not that it matters. anyway, i just think he’s oppressive.”
”… mm.”
from this angle, you can see a sliver of his eyes. can see the way he steals a glance at you, without even turning his head — hands slipping into his pockets. there’s a moment of silence, until he’s parting his lips again.
”… i can buy some for you, though.”
(you barely pick up on the words, spoken almost in a whisper — as if an afterthought.)
he clears his throat.
”… if you don’t have the money, i mean.”
you can’t help but blink, at that — lashes fluttering in rapid succession, wondering if you heard him correctly. he doesn’t seem keen on elaborating, though. walking on, ignoring all snowflakes descending from the sky, eager to nuzzle in between his locks. his infinity keeps them out.
”… why?”
it’s all you can say. all you can verbalize.
(in a story like this, why would the brightest star of all orbit around someone like you?)
gojo gives you another glance. his iris cuts into your skin, observes you on what you’re sure must be a molecular level. he lets silence linger, for a moment, tipping his head back to look up at the sky.
gray, and more gray. flecks of white. you’d see the same thing he does.
”hmm…” he lets out a breath, head falling forward again, snowy strands ghosting against the skin of his forehead. ”let’s call it a trade.”
another series of blinks.
gojo turns towards you, then — a fresh grin blooming on his lips. white teeth, pink gums. it makes him look boyish, innocent, just another city boy with too much time on his hands.
”i buy you snacks — and you tell me what music you’re always listening to.” he bends his body forward, tilts his head at the same time, all lanky and charming, like a big cat. ”deal?”
you stay silent.
he’s looking at your headphones, still left neglected around your neck. your gaze falls down to the icy concrete, the thin layer of frost, waiting to be melted by the first sunrays of spring. whenever that will be.
geto and shoko are still behind you — you can hear their low, muffled chatter, smell the remnants of tobacco in the air. and you swear you can practically hear geto’s words, echoing through your head.
(why do you think that is?)
gojo is still looking at you. expectantly, lips curled up into a lazy smile. he’s waiting, you know he is, and you also know he isn’t very good at that. you know a lot of things — what you don’t know is what to say. you don’t know if you can believe in whatever geto was insinuating, don’t know if you can grapple with your own longing to do so.
(next time, why don’t you say what’s on your mind?)
geto doesn’t get it. he doesn’t know what your feelings towards gojo truly look like. doesn’t know that what’s on your mind when he’s around is always something horrifically embarrassing. something like, i want to know more about you, or maybe i wish i could tell you more about me. something awfully cheesy, like — i’m jealous of how bright you shine, but i can’t help but like you anyway.
if i become your friend, would it be okay to say i understand your loneliness? that i notice it, even just by a fraction?
would that be okay with you?
(words that should be left unspoken.)
”… well, it’s not like you have to.” gojo exhales, again, the words a heavy weight seeping past his throat. his shoulders slump, as he turns forward, fingers trailing up to scratch at the back of his neck.
all you can think is that he’s getting ready to leave. that nothing will change, at this rate, that spring will wash winter away. that geto should be more direct with his advice, and that if it’s not the music itself that gojo is interested in knowing more about, then surely —
” — i don’t listen to anything.”
gojo stills. the words have flown past your lips before you can reach out and grasp them, slicing through the open air.
he spins around, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose at the sudden motion, exposing his widened eyes. those white lashes, fluttering softly, like a pair of doves eager to get above ground. you grip onto the insides of your pockets, warm and cozy against your freezing hands — it grounds you, keeps you tethered down to earth, down to him.
”music,” you continue, sputtering slightly, as if your lungs don’t quite know how to work under pressure. winter air seeps into your windpipe, cuts the skin there. ”i don’t listen to music.”
you lift your hands, fingers curling around the soft earmuffs wrapped around your neck, hesitantly meeting gojo’s gaze — an overlapping sequence, blanketing his view. then you’re gazing down.
”it’s just… comforting,” you try to explain, speaking softly. ”to wear them. white noise.. tires me out, so…”
the sentence trails off, unfinished. you feel silly. silly for saying anything at all, for building it up so much. silly for being the way that you are.
but when you look up at gojo, he’s brightened like a star.
white teeth, pink gums, that breathtakingly boyish grin. his blue eyes gleam with colour, almost spilling over the corners, like watercolour paint on a too-small canvas. he tilts his head, looking at you carefully, as if truly seeing you for the first time; absently swaying side to side.
if he had a tail, you’re sure it’d be wagging.
”i see!”
a silent breath spills into the air. your lips part, but no sound comes out, only vapour; heart pumping blood through your writhing veins, warming you up from the inside, a co-conspirator to the heat blooming in your cheeks. gojo continues to speak.
”i guess that counts,” he nods, crossing his arms with a satisfied hum. ”alright. i’ll get you any snacks you want! you can be greedy, it’s okay.”
a murmur of thanks escapes you, although you’d like to tell him there’s no need. something tells you denying him this would be like taking another step backwards, in this budding connection between you.
(… if you can even call it that.)
geto and ieiri catch up to your unmoving figures, finally, and only then does gojo spin on his heel and pick up his previous pace. calling back to you over his shoulder, a smile you can’t see but still hear.
”just don’t give any of it to those two, yeah?”
”cheapskate,” ieiri calls back, lone cigarette hanging between her lips. geto lets out something like a chuckle, his shoulder brushing up against yours.
you watch gojo’s back as he moves forward. unbothered, untethered. you think of him a snowflake in the breeze.
spring is almost here, now. it’s a bittersweet feeling, to know your conversations during recess will surely dwindle out — but at least you’ll have had this. one normal conversation, the knowledge that he was curious about you, even if you may just be the classmate by the heater in his eyes.
you’re too cold to keep him warm all on your own, so there’s no helping it. you’re willing to accept that some stars only show from the surface during winter.
you’re willing to accept this. it aches, a little, but you’ll be okay.
”i’ll take it things went well, then?”
geto is wearing his signature smile, when you look up at him. an expression of carefully concealed composure, lips curled up, but a knowing look in his eyes — something that borders on teasing.
you give him a nod, a bow of your head, to silently convey your appreciation. chameleon or not, you don’t really mind his ways. it’s hard to fake the warmth in his voice, when he speaks.
”i’m glad.”
the two of you watch gojo’s back, like birds gazing out at a body of water. silence lingers.
”won’t that moron get cold?”
ieiri’s voice cuts through the mold of your mind, low and gravelly, right beside you. she’s pointing towards gojo — the flimsy jacket he’s wearing.
you’re wondering the same thing.
geto casts her a glance over your head, before gazing down at you, seemingly noticing your curiosity. he lets out a low hum; reaching a hand out to brush away the snowflakes on his shoulders.
”temperature,” he begins, slipping his hands into his pockets; that familiar coaching tone to his voice, purposefully slow. ”is just a measure of atoms in rapid motion.”
you tilt your head, in tandem with ieiri — looking to your classmate for further elaboration. he seems to enjoy your confusion, lips curling up just a bit. gojo calls out to you, in the distance, waving both his hands, and geto returns it with a wave of his own.
an amber eye flicks towards you, an explanation on his tongue. ”his infinity can regulate that motion.”
… another tilt of your head.
geto lets out an amused breath. it scatters out into the air, a cloud of smoke, almost a chuckle.
”basically…” he sighs. ”he does just fine, in the cold. don’t worry about it. he’ll keep himself warm.”
ieiri mutters something, beneath her breath, something like you could have just said no, but you don’t really hear it. you think your heart must have climbed up, somehow; got caught in your windpipe.
ah.
gojo can keep himself warm.
the thought spins inside your mind, over and over, a realization that makes your inner palms feel clammy. stupid, silly, this pitter-patter of your heartbeat. but what else could it mean? if the cold doesn’t bother him, if he doesn’t run cold, then…
(he wouldn’t need it. he wouldn’t need it here, wouldn’t need it during recess, within the chilly walls of your classroom. he wouldn’t need it to stay warm.
gojo isn’t after your heater. if that’s true, then…)
…
you bury your nose in the soft wool of your scarf. breathing in the fading scent, vanilla and cinnamon, grounding you to earth, lingering in your nostrils. distracting you from the rush of warmth, that blooms in the frostbitten apples of your cheeks.
as if sensing your thoughts, or maybe just noticing your embarrassed expression, geto laughs — soft and breathy, shoulders shaking to your left. you hear it, only nuzzling deeper into the comfort of your scarf. feeling your heartbeat spin out of orbit.
in the distance, gojo continues to wave, yelling out something unintelligible. you could mistake him for a star.
spring is almost here, now. in just a month or so, it’ll be at your doorstep — waltzing right in.
(but you aren’t worried.)
#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#gojo fluff#jjk fluff
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I love your work so much and it makes me feel a certain way <33 BUTT im here to request something that I've been looking for 🤞🏽
Toji x Fan-Fiction-Writer ! Reader? I'll get on my knees if required 🫶🏽
𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐜(𝐤)𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!! | tōji fushiguro
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You know, some things are just not meant to be shared, such as fanfiction writing. And how the hell did your boyfriend, of all people, come to be the one to question you about your hobbies? You tell me, you dirty little writer…
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem fanfic writer! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - the reader is mid/late 20s; Toji's in his mid-30s - humor - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking, sucking and swiping) - deep impact position - degradation (slut, whore) - use of "Daddy" title - praise + humiliation - spitting - cervix fucking - little bit of rough sex - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (baby, cupcake, good girl, mama, princess, sweetheart, sweetie) - aftercare; taking a bath together - usage of a phone; erotic literature/writing - Toji teasing you to no end, the bastard, lol - reader wears glasses cuz why not, hehe - mention of drool/spit.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k (bless up)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: bro. this idea cooked so bad, i just HAD to make a fic for it, lmao!! apologies for doing this months late, hope I did the prompt justice, and ty for loving my works~☆
“Nooo, stop, Toji, give it back!”
“Hold on, baby, hold on…Phew, who knew ya liked wrtin’ dirty shit like this? The fuck is ‘pet play—’”
“Oh my God, stop it!”
This had to be, undoubtedly, the worst day of your life.
If there’s one thing every human being on Earth has in common, it’s their love for the weekends. They’re amazing — have two whole days to retreat and relinquish the turmoil and stress after five days straight. They’re the days when you can choose whichever activity you want to enjoy your leisure.
Some people catch up on sleep, others watch a show or try to cook up a new dish, and some go outside and hang out with friends. But then there are those weekdays where it’s satisfying enough to spend your day inside the comfort of your home, delighting in a hobby.
The hobby you chose to indulge in this weekend was writing. And right at this moment, you regret it being the activity you selected.
Why? For one, it wasn’t just any type of writing, like journalling or poetry. No, no; if it were, things would be easier for you to deal with now. Nope, it was fan fiction writing. The type of writing you’ve known since middle school and decided to jump in and try for about a year. What started as a curiosity turned out to be a hobby that took up your infatuation to the maximum level: writing pieces every night, taking up requests from your following over six thousand followers, and serving as an outlet to project your fantasies onto the Internet.
What type of fantasies, you might ask? The type you read in a room by yourself or in the corner away from prying eyes, under a blanket with your phone exhibiting the dark secrets that corrupt your mind, or the type that only could be accepted on the Internet and not from the judgmental looks of those in the real world.
But, most certainly, not the type of fantasies you wanted your boyfriend to see!
“Toji, please, give my computer back!”
“Nah, hold on; I wanna see this…Oh, what a title; ‘Fuck Me, Rail Me, Use Me, Daddy—‘“
“TOJI, STOP!”
Perhaps writing fan fiction with your boyfriend occupying your apartment wasn’t the best idea. But you wanted to get a draft don’t by the end of this weekend, and you were almost done with it. You were typing up a storm in your bedroom, sitting at your desk while your man, Toji Fushiguro, was doing at-home exercises in your living room.
And you could’ve sworn you had locked your computer before going to the bathroom. All you know is that after flushing and washing your hands, you opened your bedroom door to a horrifying sight: Toji, sweaty from his routine in his sweats and wife beater, holding up your laptop that showed the exact draft that you were working on! No, no, NO! You almost tripped dashing to take the device, but the older man was too quick and effortlessly dodged your attempts while still reading the material. And now you know why you are hopping around your room trying to catch the man and stop him from reading more of your stuff.
Spoiler alert: your efforts were beyond futile, huffing and puffing in complete defeat on your bed. Your boyfriend was sitting beside you, still reading aloud while scrolling through your drafts, to your dismay. Your ears and cheeks harbored an unbearable heat that you could cry at any second, and you covered your face in case it were to happen. God, please kill me now!
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, how many of these shits have you written?” Toji inquires, his forest green eyes scanning every draft as if the list were endless. “How long have you been doin’ this?”
“For…a while.” You can barely muster the confidence to utter an adequate response. How could I have forgotten to lock my damn computer?!
“How long’s a while?”
“Uhhh, a…a year?”
The silence was pinching your skin enough, but you don’t know if you preferred it over the next thing he said. “Wow, who would’ve thought my sweet angel was a dirty lil’ thing writing filth like this?” Oh, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. You can practically sense the smirk on his stupid, handsome face, pulling the scar off his lip! And it hurts your being that he laughs at you grabbing a pillow to scream into oblivion. “What a horny minx.”
You removed the pillow to tell him off. “It’s not all my fault! Most of those aren’t even my ideas; some of my followers asked me to write—“
“Followers?” God, would it have killed you to shut up? “So you got people readin’ your stuff?”
Downcast eyes to avoid his surveying ones, “W–Well, yes…People like how I write, so I…..Write whatever they ask me.”
“Oh, wow,” raven eyebrows lift while looking at the screen, flipping through the notes of your drafts to your blog with your completed works. “So over a hundred freaks like how freaky you write.”
“Hey, d–don’t say it like that!”
“Oh really?” You didn’t like how he said that, nor when he pulled up one of your drafts to read. “… ’You spread your legs on instinct as she sucks on your chest, and the woman takes the initiative by sliding a hand down to your—‘“
“Stop, stop, STOP!” You sit upright and try again to take the computer away from him, but Toji swiftly moves to the bedroom floor. Fuck! It was hopeless, so you groan in exasperation. “Quit it, Toji; you had your fun, so give it back!”
He didn’t think so; finding something new about you made him curious to no bounds. And for it to be a bit of a suggestive side of you? Oh, how ashamed you were of him finding this out tickled him. “Damn, there’s so much on here…Have you ever written ‘bout shit we’ve done?”
You couldn’t believe he asked you that question — you couldn’t believe you were in this situation at all! Are you serious ”—ly asking me that?!?”
“I’m not hearin’ a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’” Now, this is just diving into a more profound level of embarrassment than you could handle. “Did’ya?”
“……………yes.”
“Wait, fr’ real?! Which ones?”
“I’m not telling you! Just give me my laptop—“
“Hell nah,” his elbow is strong enough to keep you at bay—how pathetic on your part being treated like a kid. “I’m curious to see what my lil’ sweetheart is tellin’ strangers ‘bout how we do our business—“
“I’m not telling them anything!!” You retort. “I-I just use our experience as a means of…references when I’m writing,” thumbs find themselves fidgeting together. “It…It helps when I don’t know how to describe a feeling, or….what it’s like during certain…..positions.” Was the room getting stuffy, or were you shrinking under the growing pressure of every word coming out of your mouth? Who knows.
“Is there stuff y’ve written before that you’d like fr’ us to try?” Oh, for fuck’s sake, this was too much, bringing your –his– hoodie up to shield you from this predicament. And it only worsens when he stares your way, having you close up the hoodie by the drawstrings and collapse to his shoulder. Toji chuckles at your routing self, wrapping an arm around you. “Can’t even be honest fr’ a second.”
“Toji, pleaseeee,” whining doesn’t help, the older man moving the laptop out of your lazy attempt to retrieve it. “Give it baaack…!”
“Nnm, nnm, don’t wanna,” he places the device away to the ground and takes your hand with his. “Now I gotta read what weird shit you’ve been keepin’ ‘way from me.”
You shake your head frantically. “Please don’t! Don’t you think you’ve tormented me enough today?”
“Now, why would I ever get tired of fucking with ya?” The smirk on his face is still present after you open the hoodie to sneak a glare. “Shoulda thought ‘bout that and locked y’r laptop screen.”
“You’re such a fucking asshole…” his laugh at your words only proves your point, and you bury your face in his chest. This entire thing was so outrageous. How in the world were you this dumb enough not to double-check to make sure your computer was locked from prying eyes? What an amateurish move! Not even your closest friends know that you write fanfiction, so to have your boyfriend be the one to not only find out but bombard you with questions about your secret hobby is nothing short of humiliating. It can’t get any worse than this…
…Or so you thought.
“Hey,” you perk up to look at Toji. “You said ya got followers askin’ ya what they want you to write, right?” You nod meekly, twirling your thumbs with the bottom of your shirt. “Show me some.”
Appalled, you gawk, “Wh–why would I—”
“I know you have favorites from the hundreds I’ve been looking at for the past five minutes. So, are ya gonna show ‘em to me, or am I gonna have to read every single one to find out?”He didn’t show interest in returning the laptop to you even after asking the question. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, baby; I bet ya can look it up on y’r phone or somethin’.”
Your pout deepens in defeat as you begrudgingly stuff a hand inside the pocket of your leggings to pull out your phone to click on an app. Your thumb clicks and scrolls for a few seconds before you peer to him and say, “…I do have some favorites.”
Jesus, it hurt to admit that to someone, especially with your him of all people, who is without a doubt getting an absolute kick out of this, the fucking bastard! This was beyond embarrassing; nothing could ever top this moment. Indeed, there is nothing else he could have done that could have made this predicament any worse than it already is. At least that’s what you tell yourself to cope because Toji’s grin on his face says otherwise. And what he says afterward makes your blood shift to ice.
“Why don’t ya read ‘em to me.”
Yup, you were killing yourself tonight.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Go on; read that short one fr’ me.”
“Ahh—…Hahhh, ‘Sitting here and thinking…about your faves…Mmmm.”
For some reason, this felt so. Fucking. Wrong!
You already knew it was a bad idea for you to read your works to your boyfriend at his request. However, to be fulfilling said wish in this manner? The mortification had your ears ringing a thousandfold.
How would you have foreseen this yourself, face stuffed to the pillow with your phone held up by your right hand with your legs spread up and your bottom propped up? Who the hell reads like this?! And on top of that, your boyfriend is alongside you, his body behind you. The inability to see what he’s doing arises uneasiness in the soul, quivers sneaking up as you feel the rough pads of his fingertips greet the skin of your ass after sneaking inside the oversized hoodie.
Breath hitches at the slide of your panties, coming down for his hands to grope the flesh wholly. “To..ji…” his name leaves in shakes.
“C’mon, baby,” you swallow thickly at the cupping of your chasm. Toji chuckles at the twitch felt on his palm, “Read it properly, yeah? Word for word.”
Oh, fuck, your brows trench together. “T…’Thinking about your faves pleasing you from behind. He knows he has to tease you a bit—Tmmm,” his lightly hits your butt. “‘B-By massaging your ass with his strong hands,” he does so, kneading your ass skillfully that has you involuntarily purring to his touch. “…’Keeping you still and relaxed so he can later feel you with his fingers and—“ his forefinger and middle slowly come from your clit to the entrance, biting your lips. “Nhhmm, hahhh.”
“Go on,” Toji scolds, the middle digit sliding up and down with a faint push. Your back quakes to the touch, fingers gripping the pillow. “What else is y’r fav doing?”
You inhale. “Mmmm…’and circle one of them around to warm you up—‘“ spit gulped down again when Toji’s digit did the exact thing as told. “‘And then, when he knows you’re ready for him, he sneaks them insi—‘ Aaaiiii!” His middle finger is shoved into your vagina, and your toes instantly curl before he pushes the rest ever so slowly. “Oh! Ohhh, fuck…’He…then comes to your shoulder and says to your ear to make you tingle…”
“…’Stay still, sweetie,’” woah. You were not expecting that; you were too focused on trying to read your words, and Toji bending to your ear to read his part wasn’t noticed at all. You only hope he didn’t catch the clasp of your vaginal walls around his finger (he most definitely did), hoping the soft chortle meant nothing. “‘Gonna let me make y’ feel good, yeah?’” Jesus Christ, his gruff voice relayed this so intimately to your eardrums that your heart was beating too hard.
Toji’s finger goes faster, nearly having you almost drop your phone. Your face smooshes to the pillow from the scrape of his fingertip, biting on the pillowcase as he puts in the other finger. He whispers to your ear to keep going; unbelievable…So you lift your head and try. “J-J…’Just thinking about how easy he could make you cum—Mmmph! Wi-With his fingersss…scratching and rubbing your insides so precisely until you’re practically begging to mess his hand up’…”
“Oh, fr’ real?” The perk of his tone makes you anxious. “Well, don’ mind if I do.”
The pace of his ring and middle finger increase, and you gasp sharply. The onslaught of rubs to your inner channel is enough to have your lower half writhe despite Toji keeping your legs grounded with his single one. Oh, fucking Christ, your glasses up to your smooshed cheeks the more you try to conceal your cries, proven to be trivial as the seconds go by.
“Aww, whaddaya think y’re doin’?” He coos with a kiss to your nape; you nearly shut down. His free hand takes your phone, “Tryin’ to hide that cute voice of y’rs from me? Fuck that,” he then removes his digits from your chasm as you yelp and makes you flip to your back. Oh, fuck no! Your hands go to cover your face—nope, Toji is quick to move them away. “Lemme see you, mama…Now, let’s see what else you should read fr’ me.” He swipes your phone screen, “This too wordy, this long as fuck—goddamn, baby; you writin’ whole ass novels or somethin’?”
“Shut up,” you reply as your legs move, and Toji’s left hand removes your undies.
“Ah, this one!” He hands you back your cellular device. Your eyes catch the first sentence, and your face morphs into dread before staring back at him to meet his grin. “Go ‘head,” he says cooly, spreading your legs by the knees.
“…’Picture this: your favorite coming to your room and seeing you on your bed and striding to you to taste you,” you inhale deeply at the blow of air on your wet southern folds. “‘He crawls up to you while you’re busy scrolling on the phone, busying himself with placing kisses to your stomach and down to your undies. He’ll then take them off and spread your legs for him, greeting your privates with his ton’—Ghhh…!” Toji licks your slit leisurely; you gulp at the muscle perching between the lips of your labia. “Hahhh, shit…’The smell and taste of you are so inviting he can barely keep it together, virtually inching to stuff his face with your pussy. He kisses it, lips petting your clit,’” he does so, and you chew your bottom lip. “‘Then his tongue goes excruciatingly slow to e-explore your folds,” your exhale is shaky as Toji’s tongue laps and swirls; fuck, I can’t do this…
The older man, on the other hand, flips a switch and goes to town. You knew this was a bad idea; if there’s one thing Toji loved doing more than fucking your cunt, it’s eating it out. He pushes your legs up by the knees for easier access, the angle perfect for him to propel his mouth onto your entrance. You shriek, his nose frequently grinding the hood of your cunt as his scarred lips and tongue suck and lick you feverishly.
“—Tahhh! Ohhhshit, no…!” You cry, throwing your head back to the pillow. “Ahhnn, Tojiii, stop…not too fast—Oooh!”
He spits, mixing his saliva with your slick as he laves. “Mmmph, shit, taste ’o good,” Toji pushes his face further as he sucks on your clit, and you nearly choke on your sob. “Yeah, yeah, let ‘em out; scream like a real whore.” You jerk, but his hands firmly keep you down. “Keep goin’, cupcake, finish y’r reading.”
“Khhh, God, I can’t,” you gulp when emerald eyes peer toward you. “…’Before long, he’s too overwhelmed by you that he can’t take it anymore, stuffing his face between your legs and having you cry out his name in prayers—your phone is no longer a priority.’” Jesus, you can hear his grunts along with the lascivious sounds coming from below; he’s so fucking turned on. “‘Now he has your attention, playing with your…pussy like a toy just to hear you squeak.”
“Fuck yeah,” he groans as he sticks his fore and middle digits into you. Fingers go to and fro frantically, and your free hand grabs his raven hair. “Christ, y’ sound so fuckin’ hot. More, gimme more,” a long and harsh kiss to your clit makes you want to arch so bad. “Good girl, good fuckin’ girl…”
You hiss at the graze of your vagina; keeping your eyes open is hard to do. Lips go agape, and your noises fly out with no restraint. Your legs tremble, impending in a wish to close from the curl of Toji’s fingers. Your senses become too keen, your nerves heightening with every massage of your walls, lick and slurp of your slick and clit.
“Ohooo, nhhmm, fuck, Tojiiii,” another suck to your clit has you grip the sheets. “Stooop, please; I’m gonna cumm…!”
However, your boyfriend has another idea in his head. “Oh no, you don’t, princess,” his fingers leave you hurriedly with a squeal. He yanks for your phone once more to find yet another piece of yours for you to read, giving you so little time to recuperate. Until he scoffs with a smirk, “Ohh, read this one aloud next.”
You take the device returned to you cautiously, scanning the first few words that catch your eye. Curiosity snaps to apprehension, “W-wait, no, please!” Begging won’t work, but it doesn’t hurt to try. “Please, Toji, look for some—“
“Aht, aht,” the click of the tongue shuts you. “C’mon, sweetheart, that ain’t what y’re callin’ y’r fav right now.” He squeezes your thigh, “What’s my name?”
“Toji, pleas—“
“Mm, mm,” he pinches you, a warning. “Try again.”
Excitement Nervousness flicker through your soul, breathing tardily as you muster to answer. “Sorry…Daddy.” The title burnt your tongue when it left your mouth, and the smile lifted Toji’s scar even more.
“Good,” he praises. “Now read.”
“…One of my followers asked about writing a post about deep impact, so it’s—“
“Deep impact?” He questions while spreading your legs. “The hell’s that?”
“I-It’s a, uhh,” you push up your glasses. “A position where you…kinda, like, sit on one of my legs and lift the other to your shoulder.”
Black eyebrows rise. “Ohhh, somethin’ like this, huh?” Sturdy hands find your ankle and lift your leg to his shoulder, and Toji then moves to have your other leg in between his. Your lips flatten when the groin of his pants—aka, the pitched tent–touches your hole. He whistles, “Oh, now I got a new favorite to add fr’ later.” His words aren’t meant to jest, so you frown as he snickers. “Alright, what did you write for this?”
You lick your lips; why? Toji uses his free hand to bring his sweats down, not surprised by the lack of underwear as his erection springs out. His cock is standing and ready for you, the precum oozing out alluring your eyes and your lip bitten by excited teeth. Of course, your vagina is clenching to a void—anticipation is a hell of a drug affecting your entire figure.
“Don’t get too distracted, mama,” he caught you eyeing him, lifting the hem of his wife’s beater to bite down on. Your ears and cheeks scorched at the sight of his abs and torso. “Read those words.”
Your gaze flickers to your phone while Toji lines his dick to your entrance, a gulp at the kiss of his glans and your inner labia. “…’Daddy has you propped in a deep impact, a position catered to mutual pleasure and closeness. He taps you with the tip to have you excited, then slowly pushes himself into your—Mmfff!…y-your warmth,” reminding yourself to maintain a steady breath; Toji pushes his cockhead into your slick as you’re distracted. A few seconds fly by, and he slips right in; a gasp exiting your puffy lips indicates so. “‘H–He gently shoves every inch and stretches you out,’” his girth is lethal, your eyes rolling up the further his tip goes, scrapping your texture and your opening suiting for his length. “‘A-And, it feels so good to have him making you full and good’—Hoohh?!?”
That’s it, that’s what you were anxious about—you felt the jab of his tip on your cervix. You freeze instantly, too shocked to breathe as the hit was spontaneous. Your body locks down for a quick second to process what happened.
Toji notices your tightened grip and hisses, “Fffuuckin, shit…! So tight,” his hips go sluggish, and you feel his veins and shaft brush nicely with your insides. You sneak a glance at his flashed abdomen; the flex of his abs as he pushes his pelvis in waves is a sight to see–enough to put you in a trance.
You continue. “‘His hip work is pleasuring, having you wail and cry out f-for more…the sensation of Daddy’s dick venturing inside and hitting your sweet spots is enough to make your toes curl—Nhhaaa…”
He can sense you gripping on him more; fuck, it feels so good. His thrusts go a little faster, forming a minimal medium. You exhale through your nostrils at the change of pace, and grazes against your walls become periodic and long-lasting the deeper he goes.
“Daaah, ahhh, f-fuuck,” you whimper aloud. “Tojiii, y’ feel so g—Nnnmm!?!“ You nearly swallow your tongue from the sudden pound of him, the rub of your G-spot too abrupt to predict.
“Who?” God, you know he’s getting a good kick out of this, the fucker. He pushes his cock to the hilt, and it takes everything in your power not to babble from the overwhelming intensity.
“Daddy, daddyyy, don’t…!” Correcting yourself as his fingers dance around your unattended clit. “I’m sorry, you just feel so good..”
That’s more like it. “Good girl,” he bends closer, his knees spreading further apart. He pushes the leg on his shoulder so that the angle is plausible for him to rut harder. You shriek and squirm to his enjoyment, “Keep readin’.”
“‘Y-…You’re cries become more shameful the harder and faster he goes,” Toji stimulates for a harsher pound; another hit to your cervix has you winded. Despite your gasping for air, he doesn’t relent, and you jerk to undulate to another poke. “Sh-shiiit, Jesusss…! ‘He pistons so hard, so deep, it’s difficult even to think straight when all you can think is—‘“ a choked sob from a slow pull before a devious snap of the hips. “A-All you c–an think…Ahahh!” Another nudge to your G-spot; this is so hellish!
The culprit scoffs softly. “Think ‘bout what, baby?” He swipes and pinches your clit to have you jolt and whine. “Tell Daddy the rest.”
Fuck, I can’t take it anymore! The phone slips your hand, barely missing your head. “Daddyyy, I can’t!”
“Why? What’s wrong?” Another pinch to the bud pairs with a poke to your delicate womb. Oh, he’s such a dick! “Don’t wanna read fr’ me?” He chuckles aloud at you shaking your head ‘no’. “Why’s that?”
“C-Cuz, if you keep going, I’ll,” a head thrown back at another nip on your clitoris. “Ahh, I-I’ll…!” Shit, you can feel it, the climb rocking your bones to entail your soon climax.
“What? Ya wanna cum on Daddy’s dick instead of readin’ like a sweetheart,” don’t believe the words; his faux disappointment doesn’t match the merciless thrusts and the devilish grin. “Wanna act like a whole slut and cum on me?”
“Yesss, yes, pleasee!!” You don’t care anymore; you want to let it out. “Please, Daddyyy, I wanna cummm!!”
“Heh, what a nasty girl you are—Nnnmm! Fuck, just milkin’ me dry, beggin’ fr’ it, huh?” The same fingers he used to play with your clit come to your lips to shove inside, forcing you to taste yourself. “Go ‘head, mama; let y’rself go, be the slut you really are…Hahhh, shit, c’mere,” he grabs for both your wrists with his free hand after taking off your glasses and propels you towards him at the same time as he pounds. Holy fuck, this position was getting rougher, pulling you in and hitting your cervix with accurate hits that you’re whining and twitching. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck! It’s too much, it’s all too much to bear, so it’s no wonder you climax in seconds.
You cry with the breach of your crescendo, your inner muscles contracting around the cock, hitting your womb. Your nerves are now peaked as the air is sensitive to your skin, and you feel so out of breath, everything happening all at once that you can’t keep up as you thank Toji in babbled prayers, still sucking on his fingers as your vagina flutters and coats him of your essence.
“Good job, cupcake,” he comes closer and removes his digits. “Can’t beat the real thing, right?” He cups and massages your cheeks before spitting into your mouth.
You don’t even flinch, too fucked out to even care, just moaning to his lips as he brings you in for a passionate kiss as his hips keep going until he’s done and satisfied…
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Ughhh, I can’t believe I just did that…”
“Pfft quit whinin’. Don’t act like ya didn’t enjoy it.”
“I hate you so fucking much, you know that?”
“Whatever y’ say, Ms. Novelist.” You grumble at the name before he brings the washcloth to wipe down your neck.
You and Toji were now in the bathroom, your nude bodies squished together, with the warm water cleansing you both. Hair and skin damp, your back meshed to his front as you sit between his legs. The soft yellow lighting basks the bathroom with a warm glow as you two bathe in relaxation, a needed state after the excitement prior.
You snatch the washcloth before Toji wipes your face clean off. “Why did you have to be so nosy, looking at my laptop for what?” You wipe his arm that rests on the rim of the tub.
He rolls his eyes, knowing he’s in for a lecture. “Well, if ya didn’t want me to see, shoulda locked the shit.”
“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re nosy as hell! Could’ve just looked somewhere else or left the room!”
“Hmph, well, when you see the words ‘Down and Dirty’ all bolded and big and see another tab with a pic of a rimjob, who wouldn’t stop—“
“Okay, okay!” It would be best if you threw the cloth at him for chortling; such an indecorous personality for someone supposedly older than you. “You’re insufferable.”
“Right back at you,” he whispers to your ear and kisses your cheek. You sigh softly from his lips, resting your head on his shoulder while he pecks your chin. The hand in the water finds your thigh to grope and massage, and you moan at the touch and unwind.
Tranquility fills the cozy space between you two as the silence settles in, the humid air comforting to your nose and eyes, and the drip of the faucet plucking into the tub water is a soothing sound to cajole you into a dormant plane.
However, even when relaxing, it doesn’t stop the bothersome feeling of asking Toji something. And where better than with you in his secure embrace? “Toji,” his name has him open an eye to look your way. “You don’t think I’m…weird, don’t you?”
He raises a brow. “Explain.”
“Like, don’t you find it weird that me, your partner, indulges in hobbies that are…you know, like that,” now your eyes trail away from his gaze. “Writing about fictional fantasies and such, looking up erotic material and stuff…”
A few seconds fly as he scoffs. “Baby, I’ve been lookin’ at porn way before I met you—“
“Th–That’s not what I meant??”
“Besides, it’s nothing more than just writin’ shit that doesn’t exist. Hmm, if anything, now I know y’re just as big of a pervert as I am.”
Anxiousness transitions to peeve. “You are so—“
“Do you like what you do?”
The question takes you aback; the immediate serious tone switch wasn’t expected. “…I..yeah.”
“Are ya hurtin’ anyone?”
“No…at least I don’t want to.”
“Are ya hurtin’ y’reself?” You see what he’s doing, the glint shining from his viridian orb.
“No. I…like this hobby.”
Finally, a small smile contorts that scar of his. “Then I don’t mind it. It’s what ya like to do, so do whatever, sweetie.” He comes to kiss your nose and rest his forehead with yours. “I like ya bein’ a lil’ weird anyway.”
“Jackass…” And there you go, falling in love with him again. You cup his cheek, kiss the other, and repose onto his shoulder with a blissful sigh.
“Now,” you blink back to him. “Can’t lie, think you gotta start callin’ me ‘Daddy’ from now on,” like a scratched record, your heart stops, especially with his mischievous smirk. “Where can I read the rest of y’r stuff at?”
“That’s it,” you ignore his annoying bark of laughter as you try to squirm out of his hold. “Let me out of here, get me out of this fucking tub.”
“Haha, hey, quit it; y’re spillin’ the water!”
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi morgera + dividers by @/cafekitsune + @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒔#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#toji x reader#toji fushigro x reader#toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x you#toji x you#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji x you#fushiguro toji smut#toji fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fic#jjk fic#anime smut
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“ accidents happen ” || tokyo rev.
cont.
synopsis: in which they discover you had their child and kept it from them all these years later.
pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, ran, sanzu ]
warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, angst (if you squint really hard), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be errors lol and i think that’s it :))
notes: i just want the drama >:) may make more parts, and even extend said headcannons into longer fics in the future, but wanted to post something quick for mother’s day. hope you enjoy!
When you disappeared off the face of the earth, MIKEY had never been the same. One fight. One argument that spiraled out of control, and you were just gone...
He had people looking for you for about a couple years, the trail ran cold after a while and he had half a mind to think you were dead. Up until he got intel of your whereabouts one morning during a meeting.
That man got up and left immediately.
He wasn’t accompanied with any of his men, only because he didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention in the broad daylight. Sure, him wearing a black hood, ball cap, and mask in a park didn’t really help him look inconspicuous but it at least concealed his identity enough for him to blend in. Mikey sat on a bench for a good forty minutes, anxious, making anyone who passed him shiver from his intense aura alone; even birds walked around him. After almost an hour of waiting, he began to feel frustrated. Perhaps, the intel was false. Just as he went to stand, already conjuring up ways to have Sanzu execute the idiot who wasted his time, he heard it.
Your voice. Seizing him, like a siren’s call.
His eyes were alert, darting around until they landed on your figure, spotlighted by the sun, like an angel descending from the heavens. You looked good, healthy. That was good. An array of emotions fought for their turn in Mikey’s heart—Relief, distress, anger, nostalgia. He couldn’t just pick one, especially when it came to you. As he watched from his spot, doing his best to not seem suspicious, he clocked the people you were approaching with excitement, your peppy stride as you waved at, what he presumed, to be mother and daughter.
However, his entire world turned upside down when the little girl extended out her arms towards you, and said “Mama!”
“Hello, my darling.~” You cooed, taking her into your awaiting arms from the woman, embracing the toddler tightly. “Mama missed you so much.”
“Missed you, mama!” was the child’s reply, followed by her giggles.
A bucket of cold water would’ve been better than this. Watching you converse with who he now assumes to be the babysitter, Mikey felt faint. Vision blurring, head pounding, heart clenching. You…you…no. There’s no way. You wouldn’t have moved on…you couldn’t have, not like this, not from him. You loved him, didn’t you? You still love him, didn’t you?
How could you…how could you?
Before he knew it, he started to follow you around. From the park, to the store, all the way back to your apartment. He already phoned some of the executives to start working in on the babysitter, and anyone else in your new found circle for information. He wanted answers. He needed them.
By the time you began fixing dinner, with your daughter laid down for a nap, you receive a knock at your door. Who could that be at this hour?
RAN was chilling outside the rendezvous spot for something the boss and a few other execs were participating in, having a smoke, minding his business, up until he sees a little girl with pigtails wearing a school uniform approaching, standing before him and just…staring. She barely came up to his thighs, could've been no older than seven. She was practically staring into his soul with bright lavender eyes that scarily reminded him of Rin’s when he was that age.
He stared back, head tilted as he blew out the smoke from the corner of his mouth. The hell was a kid doing on this side of town?
Then, after an uncomfortable staring contest, the little girl points at his cigarette. “My ma says those things are bad for you.”
Ran raised a brow, “Does she now?”
“Mmhm! She says it makes people unhappy.”
He offered a thoughtful nod, an amused grin spreading across his face. “Mm. Do I look unhappy?”
The girl looked at Ran for a minute, eyes squinted. Eventually, she shook her head. “No. But, ma also says people who are always unhappy get better at hiding it.”
Ran’s grin faltered. Her unwavering stare started to unnerve him, especially after hearing such a heavy statement come from such a small package.
After a brief moment of silence, he chuckled softly, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it away. He exhaled. “Smart woman.”
The little girl beamed, “Mmhm! My ma knows a lot of stuff.”
“Tsk. But not ‘Stranger Danger’, apparently.”
She tilted her head, curious. “Huh?”
“You shouldn’t be wandering around by yourself, let alone approaching someone you don’t know. ‘s not safe. Especially for nosy little girls who stick their noses in other people’s business. Your ma never taught you that?”
The little girl rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. “Duh. Of course she did. Everyone knows that rule,” she exasperated. Ran snorted, but yielded when she squinted at him, pointing as she sassed. “And I do so know you, so you’re not a stranger.”
This time, Ran couldn’t help the incredulous laugh. “Oh, you know me, huh? That’s not good. ‘m supposed to keep a low profile. Say, you ain’t a cop are you?” He teased, earning another eye roll.
“No. Too small to be a cop, dummy.”
“Oh, pardon me, I didn’t notice. Where do you know me from, then?”
The little girl pointed over to the building..where the executives were having their meeting. She beamed, “Ma’s works in there. On important people days she can’t get me from school, so she tells me to come straight here, and to not talk to the purple man that stands near the building. She says you’re mean.”
Ran smirked, then gave a half-hearted shrug.
“She also says you’re my pa. But, I never believed her. You’re too old.”
Ran’s smirk dropped.
Whether more from the first comment or the last, you decide. But, one thing was for certain: he needed another cigarette.
SANZU cackled watching some guy struggle to round up a couple of rowdy twins at the convenience store. One was knocking shit off the shelves while the other ran circles around the guy. It was what he needed for his bitch of a hangover, a good laugh to distract from the ache in his skull.
However, he wasn’t laughing for long when you came around the corner of the isle, holding a few items with a smile on your face that soon faded once you saw the scene unfolding before you; the pinkette thought he was still tripping balls. Blinking a few times to allow any after effects of the drugs to clear up, when you didn’t disappear he used his long legs to swiftly yeet behind one of the shelves, peering around it like some paranoid stalker. The last time you had spoken, you had threatened to castrate him with your teeth if you ever saw him again.
And he’d be damned if he tried your bluff.
He watched in awe as you straightened those twins up quick. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought they were trained to obey you, and only you. Any other authority be damned. While the guy was putting all the stuff back on the shelves, sweaty and out of breath, you gently reprimanded them for causing trouble. You still made that cute pouty face you always did whenever you were mad at him…
“What did we talk about earlier? Hm? Mr. Satoru was very kind to help mama today, you know. You two promised me you’d be on your best behavior for him.”
Sanzu gagged. This was the rebound you let nut in you? This huffy moron who can’t handle a couple of ankle biters, this was your king? He had half a mind to just gut the guy to put him out of his misery from that pathetic display from earlier, alone. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be back home. He remembers when he was that age—Rowdy, reckless, the Antichrist. Adorable, but deadly. God bless that poor bastard’s soul.
Wait…Mister? Not…dad?
The first twin whined, stomping their feet. “He’s too boringggg!”
Come to think of it…if Sanzu squinted…the longer he looked at the little family…he swore the more he saw the resemblance of himself in the tiny gremlins. From the hair, to the eyes, all the way down to the mannerisms…Hang on. When had been the last time you two fucked? Three…no, was it four years ago?
The second twin huffed, pointing at the man. “Yeah! And he’s jus’ being nice so that he can sleep in your bed, mama!”
You flushed, nervously chuckling as you looked around to make sure no one heard. Sanzu ducked behind a bag of chips, now nothing but eyes peeking through the gaps of food on the shelf.
So…that loser’s not the father? Then…could that mean..?
“He’s mama’s boyfriend, remember? He’s allowed to do that. And he’ll be around for a while, so I want you two to be nice, okay?”
“…okay, mama.” They grumbled.
Sanzu almost popped a blood vessel, fist clenched around a bag of Lays and nearly busting it. He chuckled darkly, “Oh. We’ll see about that.”
© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved.
likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!
#🍁wasabi#happy mom day :] !!#tokyorev#tokyo revengers#tokyorev x reader#tokyo rev angst#tokyo rev fluff#tokyorev fluff#tokyo rev headcanons#tokyorev headcanons#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo rev#tokyo rev imagine#tokyo rev x reader#bonten x reader#bonten#mikey x reader#ran x reader#sanzu x reader
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✄ DVD BONUS: My Little Corner Of The World. 🥺
fic ask game
Hi! as soon as I got this I messaged Linds about what I should write for it and got....
I did not write that unfortunately Regulus is very upset with me but I have a little thing instead. I vowed to keep it under 1k which I actually succeded in! Which was very surprising to me, but enjoy a little more of My Little Corner of the World <3
Jamie’s First Day of College!
It’s been an emotional day if not anything else, a long day… a very long day. Jamie could barely stay awake, each second she stood staring at the ceiling thinking she would just call the whole thing off. Drop out before she even began and stay home in Godric’s Hollow, exactly where she belonged. She could stay in the house, even if the idea of it closed her throat up. She could stay with Regulus, that part would be nice. He’d protect her from all of it, she knows he would, but then Effie was coming into her room waking her up and she got all her bags. They stuffed it in the car, and Jamie slid into the passenger seat. Monty was supposed to come with them for the full day and help her move in but something came up with work. Jamie wasn’t even surprised. She’s just tired.
They made a stop at Andy’s and Regulus is already waiting outside, and it’s enough. It’s not a substitution, and there’s still an empty seat in the car, but she’s got Regulus with her. All her other friends have already moved into their dorms, she’s the last one left, and the one going the farthest out of the group, even if it’s only a little over two hours. It feels like forever.
She has one of the single rooms, but she has three roommates she shares the common room with. Only one showed up on the first day, Emmeline, she kept to herself for the most part. Effie went to lectures for the parents, and orientation stuff while Regulus helped Jamie hang up everything in her room. Jamie kept distracting him and dragging him over to the bed instead, shoving her head into the crook of his neck.
“I’m gonna miss you,” she repeated.
He’d bite a whine every time, “I’ll visit.”
“You better.”
They ate lunch together at a place ten minutes from the school, while Jamie tried to soak in every moment she could. Monty showed up when they got back to the school and checked out the dorm, nodding along with everything Effie was saying. He didn’t say much. Jamie didn’t expect him to. Regulus glared daggers at him every time he walked into the room. Jamie didn’t stop him. Maybe she should have. Something inside her should’ve screamed to protect her father, but there was nothing there. She thought it was there at one point, she’s not so sure anymore. She didn’t focus on it much. She unpacked all her clothes instead. She didn’t bring any of the boxes with her. Mainly because Regulus took it all for himself, but also because she doesn’t need it anymore. She just has the clothes she’s wearing now, one of Remus’ old sweaters and an old pair of jeans. Regulus puts up her pictures while she unpacks, keeping the Remus one at the bottom of the box. Acting oblivious when asked about it. Jamie rolled her eyes and kissed him on the cheek, before giving into him and putting the box back in the closet.
All in all. The day has been long, but she’s still searching for more time. They’re standing outside and Effie has her arms wrapped around her, squeezing her tightly. “You’ll call me if you need anything,” Effie tells her, “I’ll drive to you no matter the time.”
“I know,” Jamie tells her.
Effie sighs pulling away, she looking between her eyes, “You swear you’ll call.”
“I swear,” Jamie promises.
“Good,” Effie says, pulling away slightly before she’s hugging her again. “What if you just come back home?” She questions, “We could do that right?”
Jamie laughs wetly, “I’ll call you tonight.”
“Alright,” Effie sniffles pulling away completely. “I love you, you know.”
“I love you too,” Jamie murmurs.
Effie leans in a final time, leaving a kiss on the top of her head before she steps back over to Monty. He doesn’t come over, only nods, holding onto Effie’s waist when she looks over at him in tears. She probably thinks Monty is just overcome with emotions he can’t show it. Jamie isn’t so sure, but Regulus is in front of her now, pulling her face to him.
“You okay?” He whispers.
Jamie’s eyes flicker over to her dad for a moment. This is never how she thought this moment would go. She thought it would feel different. She thought they would be different. She thought they would be the same. She looks back over at Regulus, “I will be.”
Regulus wraps his arms around her shoulders tugging her down, “Call me all the time.”
“I will,” Jamie murmurs into his neck. “I’ll never get off the phone with you. We can fall asleep together if you want.”
“Good,” Regulus says shortly. He’s trying not to cry she can tell. “I’ll drive up here whenever you need me to, or want me to.”
“I always want you here,” Jamie says.
“Then I’ll be here,” Regulus pulls away, but only enough to take her lips instead. It’s short, barely anything. Jamie brushes away Regulus’ tears before they can even fall.
“I love you,” Jamie rests her forehead on his.
“I love you,’ Regulus whines, kissing her cheek, he steps back. “Call me.”
“I promise,” Jamie says.
As they walk back over to her parents Effie comes and hugs her again, squeezing her tightly. When she pulls away Monty puts a hand on Jamie’s shoulder.
“Try to have fun, yeah?” He says. It sounds empty. Jamie just nods anyway. With a final kiss on the cheek from Regulus she waves them goodbye.
She’s not sure how long she stands out there. Waiting for something that’ll never come. She heads back inside eventually and goes to her closet, putting on one of her favorite dresses. Nothing is fixed, and nothing is better, but it’s something. She holds onto something.
#i barely edited this btw#and it's so short it's practically nothing#but it's a little extra scene#so i hope you enjoyed it a little bit <3#jegulus#fic: my little corner of the world
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18+ Minors dni Enemies to lovers with some massage therapist Bucky. Breeding kinnk, aftercare, Bucky is a secret softie, all that.
Imagine Rival Biker Bucky x f reader. A smutty, slutty little concept while I add the finishing touches to another fic, just getting this out of my system first. I just love the idea of a sexy, bad boy Bucky getting his hands on the one girl who won't give him a second glance because she's too good for him and they're from opposite worlds. Since childhood. Now he's a biker. Covered in black ink. He works in an auto shop. Owns the bar that brings in chaos. He's smoke, whiskey and leather.
She, however, is soft, pretty, smart and does not have the time to entertain someone like him. She has her degree. Working on a second. She has a career. She does not associate with the likes of him, not as the police chiefs daughter. She'll be damned if she has to even breathe the same air, especially when his gang is the cause for half the problems in the town that her father has been trying to get rid of.
Now, imagine that hours of working on her notes and papers leave her with unbearable knots and kninks in her back. She doesn't want to take a break but the pain only gets worse as the week goes by. It doesn't take long for her to shoot her regular massage therapist a message to book the very first available appointment.
-
You unclasped your bra, folding and setting it off to the side while waiting for Wanda in the warmly lit room. You could have sworn she was a witch with the way she made pain disappear; she’d also become a good friend after your many visits.
The knock at the door interrupted you as you slid your shorts off, leaving you in your panties, not rushing to jump onto the table considering it was just Wanda anyway.
“Come in!” You smiled, making your way to the massage bed as the door clicked open- “Oh my God!!” You nearly shrieked seeing Bucky walk in, a shit eating from spreading across his face as you scrambled to grab the tiny towel to cover yourself though it was a futile attempt. “What the hell are you doing here?!”
"You have an appointment, don't you?" He quirked an eyebrow as if it was clear as day why he was there.
"Yeah, with Wanda, why are you here, did you get lost on the way to jail?" Your face scrunched in a mix of confusion and disgust ignoring the roll of his eyes while you snatched your shirt to better cover up.
"Well Wanda couldn't make it in but she sent me" He said with a shrug, sighing when he saw your less than impressed face, "Don't flatter yourself, I'm just training under her as part of my physiotherapy internship"
"I'm sorry, you're trying to tell me you of all people are learning how to give massages? Please"
"Physiotherapy" Bucky corrected, "You're not the only one who has a degree, princess" Bucky watched as you groaned realizing you hadn't put your bra on, opting to stuff it in your bag instead of putting it back on in front of him.
"You are NOT laying a finger on me-ow!" You hissed, feeling the knot in your back tug at the rest of your muscles.
"You're not gonna be able to do a whole lot with that much pain" Bucky smirked, only half joking. He wasn't wrong. The pain was worse than before and you needed this an you really didn't have the time to reschedule.
"Fine" You mumbled, turning away from him so you could take your shirt off again, glaring at him when you noticed he hadn't turned away. "Could you at least give me some privacy instead of lurking in the corner like a pervert"
"Whatever you want, princess" He bit his lip as he faced the wall, hearing your feet pad across the tile to lay down on the massage table.
"Alright" You huffed after covering your lower body with the towel, now laying face down, immediately second guessing yourself as he walked over.
"Let me know if anything's uncomfortable or if you want me to stop" His voice was no longer snarky; in fact he sounded professional. "Where do you feel the most tension?"
"Um-shoulders and-lower back" You mumbled out the last bit, he was going to massage you there anyway so there so no pointed hiding it. You tensed at the feeling of his oiled fingers starting to work at your muscles, he had no right to be that good. At all.
“Shit” you hissed trying to keep your voice down, ignoring the clench of your stomach feeling his rough fingers press down on the areas that were tight. Little did you know Bucky was struggling far more than you were.
It went against every bit of professionalism he had. Every moan you tried to silence went right to his cock, his hands making their way lower before trailing up again. Fuck, you sounded so pretty...
"Better stop making those sounds"
"Or what" You challenged back before you could even stop yourself.
"Princess..."
"Your attitude is what needs fixing" Bucky growled, professionalism be damned, "fuck this"
-
You have no idea how you ended up here. It didn't matter though, not when there wasn't a single cohesive thought in your brain as you wailed letting Bucky absolutely rail you. Your back didn't feel an ounce of pain as he took you on all fours, pulling your hips to slam back against him, gripping your ass with enough strength to leave you sore.
"Feel better now huh baby, not trying to stay quiet anymore, are ya" He let out a low chuckle which melted into a groan feeling you tighten on his dick, "Such a good little princess like you letting me put my dick in you, dirty girl"
You hate to admit it but the clench of your cunt betrays how much you love this. It was so wrong. You had no business fucking someone like him and yet where you were letting his precum paint all over the inside of your walls.
"What would your daddy say princess, if he knew where you were right now, what you were doin'? Thinking you're studying when you're actually all pretty and naked, letting me rub that gorgeous body up and down, bet you'd let me put my cum in you too, huh? Bet your dad would love that, his perfect little girl all knocked up with some bikers baby"
You could have said no, stayed silence, just about anything but nope. You screamed feeling his fingers reach around the massage your clit, your orgasm wasting no time hurling towards you.
"Ja-Ja-JAMESSS"
"MMMPHH I love the sound of that baby, could get used to hearing you sayin' my name, say it again princess, say my name with my cock in you, c'mon, that's it"
"Fuck-James-I-James" You were a mess and loving every bit of it, tears starting to flow down your cheeks, all the pent up stress you were feeling finally releasing. You felt your throat tighten, a sob escaping your lips as you let go, your arousal making a creamy mess on the dark curly hair on the base of his cock.
"God, you're milkin me, you want my cum that bad huh baby, want a little biker baby in that tummy of yours, I'll give it to you, give you so much I might even put twins in there-FUCKK"
-
"Shhhh" Bucky cooed, wrapping you up in a fluffy towel while cuddling up your limp body, wiping away any remnants of tears while you stayed floating in a subby, post sex haze. "I got you, you did so good princess" You only manage to let out a weak whimper, giving into his warm, thick arms that rock you.
"You alright angel?"
"Mph" you mumble against his chest and he reaches over for a glass of water that's nearby, bringing it up for you to take a sip. You're surprised at how sweet he's being, drinking up before snuggling into him again. Damn him for being so warm and comfy.
"Y'know, there might be a little Bucky in there" He whispers with a playful smirk in his voice, fingers tickling your lower belly, chuckling when you narrow your eyes at him.
"You wish" You sass back, ignoring the butterflies you feel.
"I do" He admits, biting his lip, his previous cocky demeanor replaced with a shy one, though he tries to mask it. Poorly. His cheeks are pinker than the time you threw paint on him for pulling your pigtails. When you were both 4. "I'd want Bucky jr. to have your brains though"
Imagine that incident sets off a very interesting chain of events. A confession of feelings. You both couldn't be happier, meanwhile your father is grumbling about how he knew this fuckin' day would come, God damn it.
"I never liked that boy" He struggles to keep a scowl on his face watching you giggle like you were 4 again, running to the door as soon as you hear the rumble of his bike.
"Shut up, you love him" Your mom chides, watching Bucky swoop you up for a loving kiss, heading you a bouquet of yellow flowers as he always does.
-
"I still don't like 'em" Your dad says while you roll your eyes, your arm linked with his as he walks you down the aisle.
"Is that why all the files you had to build a case against him all suddenly went missing?" You tease and your dad shugs.
"Wasn't me"
-
just an idea.
#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x freader#bucky barnes x fanfic#bucky barnes x fluff#bucky x smut#bucky x you#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fan fiction#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#enemies to lovers#enemies to lovers bucky barnes#bucky barnes enemies to lovers#bucky barnes imagine#biker bucky x you#biker bucky au#marvel biker au#biker bucky
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Nia stop making yourself sad over characters you deliberately made into shitty abusive assholes challenge (failed)
#yes it’s about Haya again#no I’m not writing I’m still taking a break#just thinking and continuing the fic about her in my head#and holy shit the direct aftermath of her mom’s death is genuinely making me tear up#the realisation that makes her heart shatter into a million pieces#her dad trying to assure her they’ll make it through this even if he’s shaking and holding back tears himself#five year old ghazan who’s too young and innocent to really get what’s going on#HER CRYING IN THE SAME CORNER OF THE SAME BED SUIREN CRIED IN AT THE END OF AIDIB CHAPTER 1#i literally cannot handle it#and like. I hate her bc she’s the reason Suiren cried in that bed. she’s the reason my girls are the way they are#she knew what it was like to lose both parents in a short span of time and be left with nothing but a little sibling#and offered no care or sympathy#but when I imagine her as the 14 year old girl whose world is falling apart as she can do nothing but stand and watch#while holding her little brother#I can’t help but cry for her#:((
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do you write for mr scarletella? :) if so, may i request jealous scarlet who makes attempts to get closer to reader (court them) after seeing how close they are to mr crawling
persistence is key
That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact. “What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. “You slow in head?”
‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🌊 ⋅ ˚✮ yeah idk, lowkey some enemies to (potential) lovers, i have no idea how to characterise mr scarletella, but i tried my best and then i kinda got a little too invested in trying to spin the fic the way i wanted and wrote a little more than usual... sorry if ur disappointed, i tried to keep the whole courting/jealous thing subtle but still kinda there >w<
warnings. canon typical violence >w<
You’re not sure when you met the man in red, but you know he’s stalking you now. And it’s getting seriously old. Unlike the ghosts and monsters you’ve had the pleasure of meeting, this one doesn’t know how to take a hint.
Your first unofficial encounter with him is something that sent shivers down your spine, tucked away under Mr. Crawling’s arm and clutching onto his kimono for dear life. The second encounter was much worse- separated from your other worldly protector and left running down an almost comically long and creepy hallway where he just magically appears in front of you.
You don’t even think twice before you smash the crowbar into his form with all your strength, but it was futile the way he flickered? in front of your own eyes and left a weird moist residue on your weapon. You scowled, and rudely pointed a finger at him- “What the hell’s your problem, dude?”
In response, he leaned in close- so close that your nose nearly touched his. The tilt of his scarlet umbrella cast a dark shadow over you, and as he peered down, one black eye appeared from behind his hair, locking onto you with a soul-piercing stare. You felt stripped bare under that gaze, vulnerable and exposed, like he was seeing straight into your core, uncovering forgotten memories, pieces of yourself even you couldn’t remember. He smiled—a slow, unsettling curl of his lips that chilled you to your bones—and said something you didn’t understand. It sounded like a question, maybe, though you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t care. You spat out a few choice words and swung again, hard.
At least for a while, he left you alone.
Has it been days, weeks, or even months since you’ve got here? It was difficult to keep track, and it was difficult to even care anymore. The place was, without a doubt, growing on you by the day. Even if it was filled with hostile creatures that wanted to eat you sometimes, and when your skin started to get discoloured and you had the inhuman itch that just could never be satisfied- it wasn’t that bad! Hell, you even made a few friends and claimed a comfortable bed in some random room you found.
However, just as you finally started settling into the place, you had your third encounter with Mr. Scarletella.
It started with a dream- from before you came to this world. That man in red… A test of courage, your friends called it- spending a night in those so-called ‘Ghost Apartments.’ Your friends hadn’t known it then, but you were quite familiar with the building for reasons, and set yourself up in a cosy corner and the night was supposed to sail smoothly.
A rumour had surfaced- a tale of a ruin that appears only on rainy days, where you’re warned never to give your name to the figure you’ll meet there. That figure, they said, would take your soul. At the end of a dim hallway, standing silently under a scarlet umbrella, he was waiting. The man in red, eyes hidden beneath his hair. He was watching you. Or was he? Somehow you could feel his stare even if you couldn’t see it.
You woke up, heart pounding, muttering a string of curses. You groan, rubbing a hand down your face. The discoloration of your skin hadn’t gotten any worse, but it hadn’t gotten better, either. The longer you stayed here, the more the place left its mark. As long as you remained relatively human, and the only thing this place took from you was your memory, you weren’t too fussed. How could you possibly miss something from the other world when all you could remember was smashing a crowbar into someone’s head?
You swing your legs over the bed, feet touching the cold ground. The chill sent a jolt up your spine, and it was almost too tempting to get back under the cosy, warm sheets. You stretch your arms above your head, bones cracking and popping into place and mumble a hazy ‘Good morning’ to Mr. Crawling that should have been in the other bed. Silence wasn’t something you were used to around him- and you whip around so fast that you gave yourself whiplash.
Cursing, you grab your crowbar and stumble out of the room with a hand rubbing your tender neck. You didn’t need to look far- you could see Mr. Crawling at the end of the hallway.
And Mr. Scarletella.
The man in red was bent over to be face to face with Mr. Crawling, all-too-familiar sinister smirk on his face. Mr. Crawling didn’t look so happy either, and they seemed to be having an argument. You stomp your feet as you make your way over to the two, hand tightening on your crowbar as you ready yourself to fight literal static if it meant leaving your best friend in here alone.
“You,” you scowl, pointing your weapon at him. “You problem?”
Mr. Crawling scurries to your side, a hand gripping onto your clothes. “Dangerous… should get away!” he urges, tugging.
You shush him with a pat on his head with your free hand and continue to glare at that menace.
“You like them?” is the only thing Mr. Scarletella asks with a tilt of his head, smile seemingly disappearing into thin air.
Glancing at Mr. Crawling, his face covered in worry- you feel the familiar itch of your skin. You take a breath, going through all the reasons why you can’t actually kill Mr. Scarletella, and loosen the grip on your crowbar. From what you can sense right now, he’s not actually that much of a threat. Just a nuisance that can’t seem to leave you alone.
“Them friend,” you reply, deadpan. What type of question was that anyway? This guy was a freak.
That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact.
“What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. You turn back to Mr. Scarletella. “You slow in head?”
The smile on Mr. Scarletella’s face falters just for a moment, but it quickly returns, more chilling than before. He stands there, towering above you. Despite your snarky comment, he doesn’t look offended- no, it’s almost as if he’s intrigued by your resistance.
You tighten your hold on the crowbar. “You problem.” You frown. “Go away.”
Instead, his grin deepens, his head tilting at such an unnatural angle that you can feel your stomach churn. It’s as though he’s studying you, savouring every little bit of your discomfort. Surely, turning your head at that angle is gonna hurt… You audibly gulp.
“Problem later,” Mr. Scarletella says, and with an unsettling flicker, he’s gone.
The next time you saw him after that was in less tense circumstances. It was unsettling after whatever that was with his coy little ‘Problem later’, you weren’t going to worry too much about it for the time being. You decided you’ll worry about it when the problem occurs, which probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas you had.
The earth shakes, and you’re completely cut off from Mr. Crawling. Wandering down hallways, resting in random rooms- you never really felt alone. You turn a corner, dizziness growing by the minute, and pause.
“You again,” you sigh. You don’t even bother lifting your crowbar at him. “What do you want?”
He appears directly in front of you, causing you to stumble back a few steps at just how tall he is. He bends down to your eye level, umbrella covering both of you once again. “Give name?” he asks.
“No. Go away.”
“Give name. Teach.”
“Go away!”
“Teach name.”
“Fine! My name’s… you pause. You didn’t actually have to give him your real name, did you? “...Silvair, or something.”
He gets closer to your face. You take another few steps back, but not before you get the smell of blood and dampness off of him. It takes all the willpower in your body to not scrunch your face up.
“Wrong name.”
“So what? It’s a name.” You scoff. Mr. Scarletella is silent, eerily so, and you can feel his piercing gaze stare through you once more. You awkwardly avoid eye contact, and clear your throat. “I’m… gonna go now, okay?” You turn on your feet and only make it a few steps.
“You teach them name?”
Them? Mr. Crawling? That guy doesn’t even understand the concept of his own name! The scowl feels as if it’s permanently etched onto your face. You whip around, pointing another disapproving finger into his red raincoat. It feels fuzzy… and wet. It grosses you out, almost. More than Mr. Gap’s greasy hair.
“No,” you hiss. “I don’t even remember my own name.” He stares, silently. “Me,” you point to yourself, “not know name.”
“...Not know name?” he echoes. What you said has him lost, you could see that.
Just like that, he’s gone again. You don’t see him for a few more days, nor do you find Mr. Crawling. You spend your time aimlessly wandering, knowing eventually you’ll most likely find someone you know in a friendly manner, and not pondering if every ghost you come across is a friend or a foe.
You awake promptly to a sound of a chainsaw revving. As if it was a morning routine, you stumble to your feet, grasping for your crowbar that should have, without a doubt, been next to you… only to grasp at air. Okay, now you are starting to feel a little panic.
Through trial and error, you knew that whatever wound you receive will heal, with time- but it doesn’t mean you were looking forward to being maimed to shreds with a chainsaw!
“Hehe.”
You froze, heart racing, and slowly turn around. There that wretched little being was- the stupid little fucker in the goat costume. The ‘Hooded Child’, the thing was termed. In it’s stupid little fucking hands, it held you handy-dandy crowbar that’s been with you thick and thin. Your stomach churns.
You gulp and face back towards the open doorway- a long black abyss, stretching on and on, with only the haunting bounce of that chainsaw, crawling along the walls. That chainsaw that was about to mince you in a matter of seconds. That chainsaw that was approaching you rapidly.
Frantically, you grab the nearest thing you could reach for. A metal chair. You wince. Probably not the best thing you could’ve grabbed, but it’ll have to do. It’s a matter of- well, technically life or life, but still! You could feel the sweat on your palms, the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your heart hammering through your ribcage.
You lift the chair above your head as the monster comes into view- a tall, masked being in a strapless floor length black dress… wait, why was she dressed so sexy? Your surprise leads you to hesitate as she rushes at you with her machine. You let out a yelp as you whack the chair down in front of you, metal clanging echoing throughout the room.
Complete silence. Not even the sound of that chainsaw. Not even the sound of metal.
“Huh?” You blink, once, twice, thrice at the sliced up body of that creature, blood splatter on your clothes. There was blood even on the ceiling, too… You drop the chair in utter confusion. “What the hell?”
“Help you.”
“You again!” You spin on your feet, meeting the dull eyes of Mr. Scarletella. You’re about to huff and puff this guy into next week, but pause. You leave your accusing finger down by your side. This guy just saved you from that thing. You avert your eyes and scuff your feet against the ground with a cough into your fist. “Uhm… Thank you.”
Wow, this guy really has an intense stare… Way to make things unnecessarily intense and awkward.
“Protect you,” he says. “You like me?”
“Take me out to dinner first, man!” you exclaim, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not like. You not bad. Not good. You okay.”
Mr. Scarletella dons an out of place frown that even makes you feel a little uneasy. “Them protect you. You like them.”
“Them friend,” you stress, finally meeting his gaze once more. You kind of regret it. This guy doesn’t blink. “You…” Weird? Off-putting? Freaky? “...unsafe.”
“Me safe. Protect you. Help you.”
You sigh. “Unsafe to friend.”
He just stands there, holding that stupid umbrella, with that unblinking stare. You blink at him and squint your eyes. His facial expression doesn’t change. Completely unfazed. You can’t even tell if he’s confused, or upset, or whatever he could possibly be. Your breath hitches as his unsettlingly familiar smile returns.
He tilts his head. “Me good. Me show you.”
Then he’s gone again. You can finally breathe. Your heart is still pumping. You slide against the wall, landing on the ground and resting your head against your knees. You clutch at your raincoat with shaking fists.
Mr. Scarletella - you knew he was meant to be dangerous, but he just saved you a whole lot of pain. Even if he was still a threat to Mr. Crawling, and hounds you for your name, asks you weird questions, could he honestly be as bad as you originally thought he was? You can’t deny that he did save you… but his presence is more dangerous than comforting. He’s both a threat and an aid, but never clear on which he’ll be at any given moment. One thing is for certain, however, and that was that he was persistent for your attention. Wait…
Oh my good God, does he like you?
“Heh…” Chuckling, you tuck your hair behind your ear. “I am pretty cute.”
You stand, and decide it’s better to think about while on the move back to Mr. Crawling. You reach for your crowbar, and curse. Of course. The Hooded Child took it with them when they disappeared when Mr. Stalkerella showed up. Well, you sigh as you drag the chair behind you as you exit the room, at least you have a temporary weapon, for now…
Making it back to Mr. Crawling didn’t take that much longer. He greets you, frown on his face and long arms wrapping around your waist. “Me worried! You gone long time!”
“Long time,” you agree, bending down to his level. You ruffle his hair, a smile finally sliding onto your face. It quickly turns into a pout as you wave your empty hands. “Lost attack tool.”
Mr. Crawling points to the spilled blood on your raincoat with a high pitched noise. You sheepishly giggle, and gesture to the chair behind you. He tilts his head, processing, before letting out his all familiar laugh. You sigh in content, glad to see a friendly face and let him pet you for a while.
He stops petting you, and turns around. “Attack tool!” he smiles wide, your trusty weapon in his grey hands. “Them give me.”
“Them?” you repeat, taking the crowbar, twisting and turning it in your grasp. “Them who?”
“Them!”
Curse this damn language.
“Mr. Crawling,” you hold his face in your hands, “what look like?”
His smile falters, and if you could see his eyebrows, you’d imagine they would be furrowed. He takes a moment to think, and points to the blood on your raincoat, and attempts to imitate holding an…
Umbrella.
You stare. And stare. And stare. You can’t even begin to process what Mr. Crawling just said to you, debating maybe you actually were growing crazy and it was finally time to bounce out of this place- andddd of course, you notice a red flicker at the end of the hallway. You tilt your head past Mr. Crawling.
That scarlet umbrella tilts slightly, and just for a split second, you catch a glimmer of that piercing dark eye staring straight at you, as if watching every nerve fire under your skin. You can see his smile from here, as if it was a smug ‘I told you so’ but it was actually a ‘Me show you.’
Well… Mr. Scarletella did show you. And now you were just left, to put it simply, utterly fucking confused. It just drilled the narrative down deeper of the possibility that he did like you. So… what do you do now? Do you apologise for trying to smash his head in with a crowbar? For being so rude?
How do you even apologise for something you don’t even remotely feel sorry for in the first place? Mr. Scarletella was creepy! …At least, he was kind of sweet. Not really- his intentions were anything but kind. But still!
You bite the inside of your cheek. …Is it wrong to feel a little flattered? There’s barely any romance in this place anyway!
In your world, things are either friend or foe, monster or protector. But Mr. Scarletella? He exists in some in-between place. Dangerous yet helpful. It’s as if he’s deliberately defying every category you try to force him into. And now, the memory of his unsettling question repeats in your mind- “You like me?” - echoing in your thoughts with a kind of twisted innocence that gnaws at you, a bit more with each repetition.
Mr. Crawling gives a soft, anxious chirp, tugging you slightly, drawing you out of your thoughts. He’s still eyeing the red figure warily. He points. “Them… dangerous? Them good?”
“Not know,” you mumble, defeated. “Good, maybe.” You stand to your feet, crowbar falling off of your lap and clanging onto the floor. “Me, them, talk. You stay.”
Mr. Crawling makes a noise of protest, hand reaching out to grasp at your clothes. You reassuringly ruffle his hair once more, and make your way to the end of the hallway. You don’t hear him follow behind you.
Face to face, you stand in front of the smiling Mr. Scarletella. He stares down at you, unblinking, unmoving.
“Can’t give name,” you remind him.
He leans his face down, ever so close. “Me like you.” A pause. “Want you.” Another pause. “You like me. Give me many human. Give me many blood.”
Well… In your defence, you didn’t know your corpse dumping ground was Mr. Scarletella’s domain.
“Getting in over your own head…” you grumble, and lift up your hand. You pinch your fingers together. “Little like you. Okay? LITTLE.” You wonder if this guy’s smile could get any bigger, geez… “You want big like?” You point your index towards him. “Be normal. Be good. Understand?”
“Normal? “Good?” He seems to chew over the words like they’re a foreign delicacy, his head tilting at that unnatural angle again. “For… you?”
“You good,” you waggle your finger at him, “I teach name. Maybe. If I can remember it…”
There’s an unnatural, prolonged silence in the air. You’re beginning to feel the awkward tension once more, but your resolve refuses you to break the unblinking eye contact you keep with him.
And finally, he speaks once more, agreeing to your proposition, “You teach good, you teach name.”
You hold back your groan- whatever this dance you two were playing, was going to take a long time to progress.
But at least something is better than nothing, right?
#homicipher#mr scarletella#homicipher hcs#mr scarletella x reader#mr scarletella hcs#homicipher x reader
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 39: Life
Summary: Something begins to throb in your chest as you lay there. Something thrums deep within you, something you haven’t felt in weeks.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 7,343 words
Warnings: Angst, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, angst, PTSD, nightmares, POV changes, depression and anxiety, illness, language, slightly graphic imagery, very slight violence, rumination, lots of feels, and yes finally some comfort
A/N: Yes, it has finally arrived. The time has come. We are now in the comfort. This very much is a good place to end things for the next month. If you haven't seen my post then I'll say it here, I will be putting the fic on a brief hiatus for the month of October. I have Kyletober planned and trying to do CRCB at the same time will be too much. So this will be the last chapter for a couple weeks while I focus on other things and just give my brain a little break from CRCB. It's been eight months of just pumping out long chapters every week, or almost every week, so I need a little break to focus on other things. I'll still be writing and posting things here (and Ao3 of course) but there won't be another CRCB chapter posted until November.
But anyway, I hope you enjoy this one and the comfort starting and I'm super excited for what's coming next month (can't believe it's almost October)
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“I need you to be brave.” Christine says, staring up at him.
His heart thumps in his chest. How bad is it that not only did she summon him down here, but she’s asking him to be brave. He knows you’re sick, that you’ve fallen ill after your moment of anger earlier. She had informed them over dinner as she made some broth that you came down with a fever.
They had all been worried, sharing glances at the news. John looked like a dog that had been scolded. It was his fault, after all.
If anything happens to you, it is his fault.
Johnny swallows the lump in his throat, nodding slowly as he stares down at Christine. “I can be brave.”
Christine stares up at him for a long moment before nodding. She pushes the door open, leading him inside your room. The scent in the air is thick, tainted by the bitter scent of anxiety still lingering in the air, and the sour scent of illness. He misses the fresh scent of strawberries, he has missed it over the last few weeks. Your scent had taken on a bitter edge ever since the cameras were revealed to them. It’s only gotten stronger recently after the events that transpired.
All of their scents have been off lately.
It’s dark in the room aside from the bedside lamp. It casts a soft glow around the room, elongating the shadows in the corners. They loom threateningly, and his fingers twitch to turn on the overhead light.
You don’t like the overhead light. It’s too bright.
You always prefer softer light. Is it an omega thing, or is it just a you thing? He’s not quite sure.
How little they really understand you.
The lamp illuminates a pile of blankets on the bed, stacked one on top of each other to create a lump of soft fabric. You’re underneath that pile, he knows it. You’ve always liked blankets, always carried one with you in the barracks, eternally cold in the harsh world they existed in on base. This many blankets though? It was excessive even for you.
He approaches the bed slowly, scared at what he might find. Images of you laying in a puddle of blood, cold and stiff fills his mind. Images of a skeletal figure reduced to nothing but skin stretched over bones has his heart racing. What will he find on the other side of that pile obscuring you from his vision?
He swallows down his fear, reminding himself that he’s a soldier. He’s seen dead bodies before, he’s killed before. So why is he so scared now?
This isn’t war. It’s you.
He steps up to the side of the bed, looking down on you. You’re shivering, trembling under the blankets. Sweat beads on your forehead, skin dewy and clammy in your fever. You look more alive than the skeletal figure he had pictured in his mind, but you don’t look well.
You look near death.
“I’m worried about her.” Christine says, closing the door behind her. “She needs someone from her pack close. You’re making the most effort right now, and if anyone might get through to her, it’s you. She needs...someone.” Christine sighs. “Someone who can offer what I can’t.”
“She needs a member of her pack.” Johnny says, easily putting together what Christine was saying.
He knows what she’s asking. He’s scared. He’s not sure how you’ll react. The last people you want to see right now is your pack, including him. How will you react to having him so close?
“Exactly.” Christine says, stepping up right next to him.
Her fingers wrap around his wrist, and he lets her guide his hand to your cheek. It’s hot and clammy against his palm, a fire blazing under your skin. You let out a shuddering breath, the air fanning weakly against his wrist. Your head turns just slightly, pressing into his hand. It’s a good sign, despite the delirium you have to be stuck in. What are you imagining is happening right now? What is your brain telling you?
“Touch her, talk to her.” Christine says, releasing his wrist. He keeps his hand there, pressed against your cheek. “We need to try and get her back before this gets worse.”
Before they lose you.
She won’t say it out loud.
She doesn’t need to.
Johnny nods, turning his head to look at Christine over his shoulder. She looks exhausted, and not just because of the late hour. She’s done so much over the past few weeks watching you and caring for you. Maybe it is time one of them tries to step up and help her. You can’t avoid them forever, no matter how much you might feel like trying.
He has to try. For you.
“I know what tae do.” He says, his eyes flickering to the books stacked on your dresser, the ones Simon and John picked up.
Christine squeezes his arm. “I’m just across the living room if you need me.”
“I’ll try not to.” He says.
She stares up at him for a long moment before nodding. She understands. He doesn’t have to say much else. She leaves the door cracked and he doesn’t mind, moving away from you to look through the books on the dresser. A handful of them are new, or at least ones he’s never seen you read before. A couple are ones he knows are in your collection at the barracks. He picks one of those, some fantasy novel he’s seen you read more than once.
He looks between the bed and the chairs. He could pull one over and sit by your side.
No, Christine said it was better to touch you.
Instead he climbs onto the bed, sitting close enough he can feel the heat from your body. He cracks open the book, flipping through to the first page. He clears his throat, staring down at you for a moment before he begins to read.
Rain batters the roof, coming down hard outside. The wind is blowing, whooshing past the house, rattling the shutters. The storm blew in from the sea, dumping rain by dinner and then the wind picked up by the time they were all getting ready to settle in for the night.
It feels fitting, a storm blowing in at a time when a storm is brewing within their pack.
The storm he blew into their pack.
He lays there in bed, listening to it rage outside. It’s quiet in the house, Simon and Johnny already settled in, and so are you downstairs. Kyle is beside him, but not asleep. He’s laying awake again as they have done since their arrival. He can feel the heat of Kyle’s body against his arm as he lays on his back, Kyle on his side facing away from him.
“You just had to do it, didn’t you?” Kyle asks quietly, breaking the silence. “Can’t even go a week without trying to apologize knowing full well she won’t forgive you.”
John stays silent, having expected some kind of reprimanding for his actions. He really was selfish for what he did. Kyle is right. You won’t forgive him, no matter how many times or ways he tries to say sorry.
“You’re just making it worse.” Kyle huffs out. “You’re the last person that should try apologizing right now.”
“You’re right.” He finally says. “It was selfish of me to do that. I just wanted her to know-”
“She knows.” Kyle snaps, cutting him off. “She’s not stupid and oblivious. She knows we’re all feeling guilty, she knows how sorry we all are. She won’t let us apologize until she’s ready. Shows just how little you actually understand her, trying to do that.” Kyle pushes himself up to sit. “She doesn’t want words. She’s had words spewed at her, her whole life telling her what to do, how to feel, how to act. She want’s actions. She wants us to prove to her that we do care, that we are sorry, that we’re making an effort to make things up to her. She wants us to prove that we’re putting her first by putting her first.”
John knows he’s right. Words won’t solve a situation like this. None of them know where to start, though. How do you try and make things up to someone when you’re not even sure that person wants you to try?
“She’s sick now, because of what you did.” Kyle continues. “If anything happens to her...” He trails off, shaking his head.
“I’ll let you take the first shot.” John says. “I know. I’ve been a miserable excuse of an alpha. It’s easy when you have the confines of the military to hold everything in place. When those expectations dictate your life and how to run a pack. It’s easy, when you can exist as a pack with those set routines and structures. The facade that makes everything seem like it's working.” He shakes his head. “We never would have worked outside of those confines.”
Kyle’s head turns slightly towards him, but his gaze is still on the far wall. “No, we wouldn’t have. None of us would have chosen this in the first place.”
“Probably not.” John agrees. “Then we got an omega added, an outsider that showed us just how weak we really were.”
“We were crumbling long before that.” Kyle says. “We weren’t ready for an omega, we shouldn’t have ever had an omega.”
“I should never have been head alpha.” John says. “Being an alpha is different from being a captain. It shouldn’t have been me.”
Kyle snorts. “He would have never agreed.”
“That delay might have saved us.”
“Or it would have made things worse.” Kyle says. “Shepherd wanted us to bond with her right away so his control over us would strengthen if he had to use that power. If those bonds weren’t put into place when they were, they might have tried to force it.”
“That would have only destabilized things further.” John says. Kyle isn’t wrong. Who knows what lengths they would have gone to, to ensure what they wanted would happen. “They were watching us from the start. They knew exactly how to play all of us.”
“Simon was right all along in his suspicions.” Kyle says, laying back down on the bed. Their shoulders are touching. It feels nice, having him close again. They’ve been close for the last few days, forced together by their sleeping arrangements, but it feels different now.
“He’ll be a better alpha than I ever could be.” John says quietly, almost speaking to himself.
“I think she will come to forgive you eventually.” Kyle says, turning his head to look at John. “You just have to give her time. A lot of time. You have to figure out how to prove yourself worthy of that forgiveness.”
“I want to take her to the beach.” John says. “Once she’s recovered.”
“If she recovers.” Kyle had pieced together the worry in Christine’s voice combined with her words. They all had.
“She will.” John says. “She’s a tough little thing. She’s not going to give up just like that.”
“I hope you’re right.” Kyle says.
“I may not have the best track record with being right currently, but I’m confident in her and her strength.” John turns his head to look at Kyle in the darkness. The storm is calming outside, the wind dying down and the rain lightening. “She’s stronger than all of us combined.”
The corners of Kyle’s lips twitch. “You are right about that.”
It smells good.
There’s a rich scent in the air as you begin to wake. It smells like Christmas, like spices and citrus. Warm gingerbread and cider. Freshly squeezed orange juice on Christmas morning just like every year. It had been your favorite, though you never understood the lengths your mother went to, the early morning and the hours spent in the kitchen on Christmas slaving away to make everything perfect. Everyone got something they wanted, something they loved. You never appreciated that effort until now.
Oranges. Spices. Warmth.
You know that scent.
It’s hot in the room, sweat soaking your skin as you lay on your right side. Heat surrounds you like a cocoon, just like the scent. Warm and soft and too much. You try to wiggle out from under the blankets but you can’t move, so instead you shuffle them off. Some of them hit the floor with soft plops, the others just barely hanging on the side of the bed, trapped under your body. You’re still stuck, still hot as you lay there, a comforting weight around you. The scent floods your nose, fills your body with a pleasant feeling as you lay there, breathing through your nose. Oranges, spices, warmth.
Someone is baking a pie.
It smells good. You want to bury yourself in it, press yourself into that scent until it’s the only thing you can smell. It brings you a comfort you didn’t realize you were missing. Something fills your chest, a weight beginning to press down inside of you.
Your hair sticks to your face as you lay there, tempted to get up and see who is baking and why. There’s weight pressing down on you from the outside as well. You can’t move. You’re stuck.
The weight around you moves.
No, it’s not pie.
It’s Johnny.
That’s why you know the scent. That’s why it feels so familiar, so comforting. It’s Johnny. Johnny is pressed up against your back, his arm tossed over your waist. That’s why it’s so hot, his body putting off warmth like a heater.
You should be angry at the breach of your clearly placed barriers. You should be upset that he would come in here and just climb in bed like this. You should be pissed that one of them would try something like this after your outburst yesterday.
You shouldn’t be crying.
Not out of relief.
Oh how you missed this.
Something begins to throb in your chest as you lay there, crying quietly in Johnny’s arms. Something begins to thrum deep within you, something you haven’t felt in weeks. Life? Hope? Happiness?
You should be upset.
You can’t be.
Johnny grunts quietly behind you, his arm leaving your waist as he stretches. He’s awake now, or maybe he hadn’t been at all and had been waiting for some sign of life, some movement from you, something to try and give him a hint at what you must be feeling. He doesn’t say anything, laying still as you sniffle in the silence. No one else is up yet, despite the blue light of dawn coming in through the gap in the curtain.
“Johnny?” You whisper, even the quiet sound hurting your sore throat. You’re thirsty, desperately so, but that’s a problem for later.
“It’s me, kitten.” He says hesitantly, the pet name making a sob tear from your throat.
“Johnny,” You cry, the tears falling in a cascade. You can’t stop them. You’ve lost complete control as you lay there sobbing. “Hold me.”
He doesn’t say anything else, his arms wrapping around you and tugging you close against his chest. He locks you in his embrace, holding you tightly against his chest as you cry. It feels good. Life and energy flows through you again for the first time in weeks. That empty space in your chest begins to fill slowly, warmth blossoming in your body despite the sweat soaking you both. Johnny offers no complaints as he presses his face into your hair.
How you missed this.
How you need this.
You seem more relaxed at dinner. Despite your angry outburst the day before, and your sudden illness, you look significantly less miserable than you did your first attempt at joining them for dinner. The yelling did a number on your throat, but even now it’s nothing compared to that first day. You’re having soup again, and this time there’s a side of mash and peas next to the bowl.
You even walked to the table without the crutch.
Simon sits beside you again, all of them taking their respective seats at the table. They’ve assigned themselves these seats, even when you don’t join them for a meal. You’re at the head of the table as you were the first time, Simon and Chrstine on either side of you. Kyle and Johnny are seated next to them, and John is across the table from you. You’ve been avoiding looking at him. You haven’t even so much as glanced up at him.
Simon is watching you carefully out of the corner of his eye, trying not to make it obvious. If you’ve noticed, you haven’t shown any disapproval. He’s ready in case he has to act fast again, but you are far more steady than you were that first time. There’s no tremble to your hand as you bring the spoon up to your mouth.
The others look happier than before too. Johnny has stopped crying. Not even a sniffle from him ever since this morning when he emerged from your room. None of them had said anything about it, though they have an inkling of what had happened, judging by Christine’s lack of reaction to it. Kyle looks happier too, sitting straighter like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. It probably has, with the lightening of the mood. Whatever happened with Johnny this morning, it’s made a huge change already.
John has never been much of a religious man, but god bless Johnny for whatever magic he worked this morning.
You don’t even look feverish as you sit there, spooning soup into your mouth. A lingering low-grade fever, Christine had informed them earlier that afternoon, but significantly less concerning than things had been yesterday.
He’s glad to hear it. He’s always glad to hear Christine’s updates on how you’re doing, how well you’re healing, at least physically. The body heals easily. Mentally...there’s still a long way to go. Healing physically will help mentally, but with all the trauma, years and years of trauma, it’s going to take a long time to heal from that.
The clink of your spoon in your bowl draws him from his thoughts and he glances up at you.
“Getting full?” Christine asks as you take a sip of your water, wincing slightly as you swallow it.
“Can I have some tea?” You ask.
“Sure,” Christine says, going to push her chair back, but John is already standing.
“I’ll make some.” He says, not offering any room for argument as he turns his back on the table to head for the kettle.
You’ve been drinking more tea lately, likely to soothe your throat. He never thought he’d see the day, given your determination to stand with Johnny on the side of coffee. It’s a bit late for coffee, but he does know it wouldn’t keep you awake in the slightest. You love your sleep, as most omegas do, and nothing will get in the way of it. Not even some late evening caffeine.
He sets mugs out on a tray, deciding to make tea for everyone. At least that way it’ll make it seem less targeted at you. He’s not doing it to try and impress you or win your affections back. He just wants to help take the load off of Christine’s shoulders. She’s done so much for you, for all of them, already.
He steeps the tea before bringing the mugs to the table along with some milk and sugar. He knows at least Simon and Kyle will drink some, and he will as well. He brings the kettle over, filling the mugs with tea. All of them sit there watching him, waiting tensely for what will happen next. Will you take the mug of tea he offers? Or will you refuse. Even if you threw it in his face, it wouldn’t make him mad. It would be horribly painful, yes, but he would deserve it.
Perhaps him doing this was a mistake.
He stares at the sugar and milk as he grabs one of the mugs. Do you like sugar or milk in your tea? He’s not sure. He doesn’t even know how you take your tea. He knows you like creamer in your coffee. But how do you take your tea?
What a sad excuse of a human being he is.
You don’t look at him as he sets the mug next to your water glass. You’re still eating your soup, your hand trembling just slightly now. Your scent is tainted still, a whiff of it filling his nose. Displeasure, a hint of burning anger.
This was a mistake.
He sets the milk and sugar next to you first, letting you finish making your tea. He won’t push that boundary and risk making it wrong. It would only add fuel to the fire, make it more obvious that he knows and cares so little for you. He doesn’t even know how you take your tea.
He takes his seat again as the others help themselves to the tea, even Johnny taking a mug. Whether he’s doing it because he wants to make the moment feel less awkward, or because he genuinely wants some, John will never know.
He made a mistake in doing that.
Still, despite the awkwardness, it felt good to do that.
Maybe that’s how they get closer to you.
The little things, things that take some of the pressure off Christine. She has to be getting tired, going nonstop all day. Anything they can do to help, they should. Things seemed to go well with Johnny, so maybe the others can have some success in their attempts to gain your favor once more.
John will have to stay away for now. Distance is what you need from him.
That’s alright. He has other things he can do.
He tries to hide the small grin on his face as you pick up the mug, taking a sip of the tea.
They’re fighting.
You stand at the back door watching them throw punches. They’re solid punches, nothing held back, no pulling them. They’re all breathing heavily, two of them watching the other two fight.
Simon’s fist meets Kyle’s shoulder, Kyle’s fist going for Simon’s head but he’s too fast, ducking before he drives his shoulder into Kyle’s stomach. Kyle hits the grass, disappearing from your view.
John steps forward, pulling Simon back and speaking to him, but you can’t hear from this distance.
“Still out there?” Dr. Keller asks, stepping up beside you.
“Yep.” You say, watching as Johnny takes Kyle’s place against Simon.
“John did say it would be good for them.” Dr. Keller says, wincing as Johnny’s fist hits Simon’s ribs.
“They’re gonna start a real fight.” You say, watching as Simon starts to get more aggressive. You can tell because you’ve been in that position before. You’ve seen when that switch starts to flip, when the alpha starts to take over. He was never this aggressive with you, but perhaps even his alpha could be rational given your obvious size and strength difference.
And the fact you’re an omega.
“Well, that’s their problem.” Dr. Keller says. “As long as they keep it out there.”
“They might make you patch them up afterwards.” You say.
She lets out a snort. “There’s ice packs in the freezer and a first aid kit in the bathroom.”
You try to hide your smile as you watch John get in between Johnny and Simon, speaking to Simon again. Maybe it will be good for them to get some of that pent up energy out. They’re all used to being so active and always having something to do. Being stuck inside has to be driving them stir-crazy. Simon has been going on runs in the morning, and you know John has been going on walks every so often.
You’re starting to feel a bit stir-crazy yourself. It’s taking you back to the days shut up in the barracks, unable to go anywhere or do anything, having to entertain yourself for hours while they were gone. At least there you had space and room to move around, even when you were being trailed, one of them constantly following you around. They might not be hovering quite as obviously here, but it still feels suffocating, like you can’t truly have a moment to yourself.
“I want to go for a walk.” You say, shifting on your feet. The likelihood of you going very far is slim, at least right now.
How far you’ve fallen from your running days.
“I suppose you could go for a little walk.” Dr. Keller gives you a sideways glance. “Might be good to help get your strength back. I doubt they’d let us go without one of them, though.”
“Probably not.” You agree, knowing they won’t even let you sit out on the porch without one of them watching. If you left the house without even telling one of them, all hell would break loose and you’d be condemned to your room once more.
The thought makes you wince.
You almost wish you could go out there and throw some punches at one of them. That might make you feel a bit better. Hell, line them all up and you’ll take turns beating the crap out of all of them. Maybe that might heal some of the anger and pain still stuck inside of you.
That’s an idea for a different day, though.
It’s oddly warm out today, or at least that’s what Ashley said. Soon the weather will turn, though, and the cold rain will come. Lots of rain.
Your eyes flick between Ashley and Dr. Keller. The three of you are seated in a circle around a table outside, steaming mugs of tea in front of you. Neither of them are staring at you, instead focused on each other as Ashley speaks.
Dr. Keller has a crush.
It’s not hard to tell. Her eyes are focused on Ashley, a smile tugging at her lips. Her gaze only flicks to you when you shift and move in your seat before she’s staring at Ashley again. You can’t blame her. You can hardly bring yourself to look away from Ashely too.
It makes you almost miss Kyle.
They have the same soft brown eyes and the same bright smile. They’re both perfect, like they were chiseled out of marble and brought to life. They even laugh the same, a genuine chuckle coming right from the chest.
It makes you want to laugh, even if you have no clue what was being said.
How has Kyle been handling this? You’ve hardly paid him any mind. His connection to John puts him too close to the source of your anger and rage and pain. Johnny cries, Simon is a brick wall, John reeks of guilt and misery. Kyle...you don’t know. He’s been a blank spot, a hazy figure in the distance.
It almost makes you feel bad. You’ve completely cut him off, isolated him. Has he cried? Has he been sulking? How miserable does he feel about everything? Does he feel guilty or miserable at all? He has to. They all do.
Good. You think. They deserve it.
“You do get stuck in your head, huh?”
Your gaze snaps up, looking between Dr. Keller and Ashley. They’re both staring at you quietly, a small smile on Ashley’s face. You did get lost in your thoughts again, stuck in your ruminations as you usually do. Lately it hasn’t been a problem, as you’re alone or with Dr. Keller often. You’re supposed to be thinking and processing. It just happens at the worst times.
Simon would hate it still.
“Something specific on your mind?” Dr. Keller asks.
You probably shouldn’t say anything. How would you explain how your mind went from Dr. Keller crushing on Ashley to hoping the guys feel guilty? You’re not even sure you should reveal that you know about Dr. Keller’s crush, especially if she hasn’t said anything yet. You don’t think she has. They’re not...close in the way a couple would be, a distance still between them. Does Ashley feel the same way? It’s hard to tell since you don’t know her quite as well yet.
Maybe that can be your goal, besides healing. Something to focus on, something to distract from the constant emotions and pain. Get Ashley and Dr. Keller together.
They’d be perfect for each other.
“Not really.” You finally say, looking down at the book in your lap. You’re about halfway through it. It’s fine. Nothing to write home about.
“What do you think of the book?” Ashley asks, sensing your end to that discussion. She doesn’t push. You like that about her.
“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Kinda slow.”
“They are spending a lot of time on character development.” Dr. Keller says.
“We should keep a tally of how many times the phrase “his dark eyes” gets mentioned.” Ashley says, making you laugh.
“It’s good to hear you laugh.” Dr. Keller says, smiling at you.
“It...feels good to laugh again.” You say. “It’s nice to have something to laugh about.”
“Well then I’m going to make that my mission.” Ashley says, taking a sip of her tea. “Get you to laugh as much as possible.”
You don’t think you’ll mind that one bit.
The scream dies in your throat as you jolt awake in bed. The book that had been in your hands when you fell asleep drops to the floor with a quiet thud as you jerk up into a seated position. You’re breathing heavily, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you try and calm your racing heart. It’s beating hard like it might beat right out of your chest. You’re shaking, your hands clutching at the baggy shirt you’re wearing like you’re trying to cling to some hope that it was all a dream, that you’re awake now and this is real life.
Sweat beads on your forehead as you sit there, shaking in the darkness. You need someone. The shadows are closing in around you, your nightlight unable to keep them completely away. You need someone to fight them back. You need someone to reassure you that it was all just a dream, someone that can wipe the tears streaming down your cheeks and whisper softly to you that it’s all okay. That it’s all over.
You need Kyle.
Where is Kyle? How do you get to him without waking the others? You could go upstairs but what if they think you’re an intruder? You don’t even know which room Kyle is in. You wish you had a phone. You wish you could call him. You wish you could just telepathically reach out and tell him you need him and only him.
You’ll wake them all anyway trying to find him.
You suck a breath in, your hands still shaking as they cling to your shirt. You have to do it. It’s the only way to get them all down here, to get Kyle down here.
You take a couple deep breaths before you scream.
Within seconds the house is alive, footsteps racing across the living room towards your room as others thud from above.
The overhead light stings your eyes, forcing them closed. It’s too bright, intrusive even with your eyes pinched closed. You can still see it behind your eyelids, harsh and too artificial. Just a price you have to pay to get what you need.
Dr. Keller’s hands are soft as they peel your hands off your shirt, your fingers trembling with nothing to hold on to. They open and close, seeking out something to grip, something to give you an anchor to reality. You’re still panicking, your breaths shaky as you sit there, trembling in fear.
“You’re alright,” She tries to soothe you, brushing your sweaty hair back. “It was just a dream.”
You wish it was.
“Kyle.” The name comes out as barely a whisper, stuttering out of your trembling lips.
“What was that, sweetie?” Dr. Keller asks, leaning in closer.
“Kyle.” You whisper louder now, the name shaky in the tense silence of the room.
“Kyle,” Dr. Keller repeats, standing up straight.
Quiet, hesitant footsteps approach the bed. Your eyes are still pinched closed against the harsh overhead light. You can’t bring yourself to be brave enough to open them, to face that harsh light. It might reveal the truth, that it was all just a dream, that this is still just a dream.
It might not be Kyle approaching the bed at all.
You can’t know. You don’t want to know. You’re afraid to open your eyes.
There’s a click as the lamp is turned on. You still can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. It’s supposed to be comforting, the soft light, but it could be used against you, giving you a false sense of hope and security.
You flinch as the overhead light is turned off, still too afraid to open your eyes. Your hands have closed around the blanket pooled at your waist, gripping it so tightly your fingers are aching. It’s real. You’re touching it, you can feel the texture of it in your hands. It’s real.
It’s real.
Your breaths are shaky as you breathe in and out, trying to catch a scent. Any scent. Something to tell you that you’re really awake, that it really is Kyle standing next to the bed.
“I’m here.” A soft voice says, something hovering in the air next to you.
Kyle.
You know that voice. You’d know it anywhere.
You finally crack your eyes open, tears brimming as you turn your head to look up. Kyle is standing there awkwardly next to the bed, his hand raised as if he was reaching out to comfort you, but thought better of it. You’re glad he did. You might have spiraled into another panic if he’d touched you before you knew it was him.
You stare at his hand for a moment before you peel one of your hands away from the blanket. Your hand is shaky as you lift it, reaching out towards his own trembling fingers.
His fingers are warm and rough, just as you remember as they close around yours. You’re still shaking, a cold sweat forming on your skin as fear trickles down your spine.
What if this is a dream? What if this isn’t real?
“I’m here.” He says, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles.
You want to believe him. You really do.
You pull his hand closer, pressing your cheek against it. His skin is warm against your cheek, and like Johnny, he makes no complaints about your sweat smearing on his skin. You’ve been that close to them before, sweat mixing together, slicking skin. How far things have fallen since then.
Your tears drip onto his skin as you hold him there, just breathing him in for a moment. He smells like the sea, but with that soft, light scent underneath. You missed that scent, more than you realize you did.
You let out a quiet sound as you rub your cheek against his hand, almost like you’re trying to embed his scent under your skin.
He doesn’t say anything as you lean against his hand, tears still streaming down your face. The lamp is pushing some of the darkness away, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. You can still feel the eyes from the dark corners of the room, the shadowy figures just out of view threatening to reach out and tear you away.
A shudder runs down your spine, your fingers squeezing around Kyle’s in what has to be a painful grip.
“I’m here.” He says again, pulling you from the dark thoughts plaguing your mind. He’d know if someone was here. He’d know if anything threatening was nearby.
It’s his job.
The job.
The thing that’s kept you so separated from them, kept you at a distance. The thing that put your life in danger, that exposed them all as liars. The thing that’s left you an empty shell.
Maybe having him down here was a mistake.
But the shadows...
You tug on his hand, pulling him closer to the bed. He sinks down on the edge carefully, still a bit hesitant. You don’t blame him. It’s not like you’ve been the most welcoming of them. For good reason.
You need him right now. That need for safety and security far outweighs the conflicting emotions battling in your brain right now.
“Stay.” You say, the word tumbling out from your trembling lips.
“You’re sure?” He asks, his thumb still stroking your knuckles. You’re not sure if he even knows he’s doing it.
You nod, tugging him closer as you scoot over in bed. He lets you guide him, laying on top of the covers.
You try not to think about it too much.
It’s nice having him close. The shadows don’t seem quite as dark, the threats in them silent now that he’s here. He’ll keep you safe. He’ll protect you from the silent threats. That’s why you want him. That’s his role to play in all of this. They all have roles, they all have their places in the pack. They all have a part to play, not just for you but for each other.
They’ve been struggling.
They’re struggling because you’re struggling.
The silence is loud as you lay there listening to the hum of electricity. You’re not quite sure what to say, how to break the silence. What is there to say that you haven’t already conveyed by your silence? What is there to say beyond what you’ve conveyed in your anger? They all heard your outburst, they all know the source of your anger and what they did to cause it.
What’s left to say when you have nothing tying you together anymore except a claim and a half-broken bond? What is there to say when saying the wrong thing might fray that bond even more than it already has been?
“I’m sorry.” Kyle says, finally breaking the tense silence.
Of course he’d start with that.
You let out a huff, turning on your side to face away from him. “I know you all are. You don’t have to keep saying it.”
He lets out a sigh. He knows it. He’s not apologizing to you, for you. “Nothing can change what we did and we know that. We just...want you to know that we’ll do whatever it takes to help you and support you. We don’t want to push that boundary too far, but we’re all here if you need us.”
You let out a hum. You already know that too. That’s why Johnny came so willingly, that’s why he stayed. That’s why they all tiptoe around you and stare at you like you’re a wild animal that may strike at any moment.
Part of you wishes they wouldn’t.
Part of you wants to go back to the way things were. Part of you wants to pretend that everything is normal again, that you love them and they love you just as much. You want to go back to that comfortable, seamless flow of one around the other, the way they all moved in sync, aware of each other without even needing to look. You want to insert yourself into that flow again and let them guide you along with them. You want to trust them blindly again and know they’d catch you if you fall.
They proved they won’t though. They proved you can’t trust them to catch you. You’re on your own again, forced to catch yourself, forced to save yourself. You have to make that rope to catch yourself with.
Yet, a deeper part of you yearns for that connection. Your omega screams for it, for your alpha, for your pack. You want them back with you, you want the bonds to heal and to be stronger than they were before. You want them to do as they said and prove to you that they’ve changed, that they're putting you first.
The omega should be first. The omega should be the center. The omega should be the sun they gravitate towards, revolve around.
That’s what the book said. That book that’s sitting on your desk in the barracks. That book you read over and over, convincing yourself that it was true and they were a good pack like that book said.
They’re not.
We all make mistakes.
They’ve never had an omega before. How are they supposed to know how to have an omega in their pack if they’ve never had one before? None of them came from big packs. John is the only one who’s ever even dated an omega before. They’re just as new at this as you are.
You probably know more than them.
You spent years learning how to be an omega in a pack. You read the books and wrote the essays and did the research. You read that book.
Simon read that book too.
Yet he did nothing.
“Why did you want me?” Kyle asks softly, pulling you from your ruminations.
You turn your head to look at him, staring into those soft brown eyes. Brown eyes you’ve missed. Tears trail down your cheeks as you stare at him, wetting the paths of the ones that had slowed to a stop in your rumination.
Why did you want him and not Johnny?
Johnny was the one that came for you, that comforted you, that got you through your fever. Johnny was the one you asked to hold you, to give you that support you’ve been so desperately clawing for.
So why did you ask for Kyle?
You turn onto your back again so you’re laying side by side, your shoulder brushing his. He’s warm, and you just want to nuzzle into him and never let him go again.
Another tear slides down your face as you stare at him, at that concerned look on his face. “I need you to tell me it’s going to be okay.”
That concern morphs into understanding as he shifts slightly, reaching out for you. You let him, you let his thumb brush the tear sliding down your cheek away. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just staring at you as you lay there in the warm light of the lamp. The shadows don’t seem so close now, so threatening with him here. The things that lay in the darkness waiting for you to sleep so they can seep into your mind and stir up the horrible memories lying there in wait are at bay for now, fought off just simply by his existence in this room.
His thumb continues to brush your cheek, your skin tingling along the path it follows. “It’s going to be okay.” He says softly, quietly.
You’re not sure if he’s convincing you of that or himself, or perhaps both. You don’t know what he’s feeling, what he’s been feeling. You’ve been ignoring him, pushing him away out of fear that if you looked too closely, you’d break down. That bond will never break between the two of you, held tight with steel simply because of that claim your alpha and his alpha has on the both of you. No matter how much you hate John, that bond can’t be broken. It can’t be cut. It can’t go away. It can’t be denied. Not completely.
A small smile tugs at Kyle’s lips, a reassuring smile. His words are stronger this time, spoken with more conviction and surety, like he’s speaking it into existence, manifesting it for the future when things perhaps can be different.
When things are better.
“It’s going to be okay.” He says, cupping your cheek, staring right into your eyes as he speaks. “We’re going to be okay.”
NEXT ->
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#call of duty#call of duty fic#poly 141 x reader#task force 141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#Johnny mactavish x reader#soap x reader#Kyle Garrick x reader#gaz x reader#John price x reader#captain price x reader#Simon Riley x reader#Ghost x reader#a/b/o#alpha/beta/omega#omegaverse
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can i ask for the yan!roommate's reaction to the reader finding the camera in the bathroom and purposefully jacking off in front of it?
just found out about this blog and i am already hyped we need more subby yans in the world
Yandere roommate imagines (sub Yandere oc) ~!
A/N so the Yandere is just a random Oc you can imagine it as whoever I just needed a name for the fic! And you’re totally right there aren’t nearly enough sub Yandere as I’d like <33
Imagine you just got home from the gyms and all you wanna do is get into your shower you don’t have many other thoughts in your brain, you would have used the shower at the game but you have a “problem”~ between your legs and you knew you had to get home.
Imagine, you’re stripping your clothes cutting the hot water on as the mirror begins to fog up, your cock pressing to your stomach with precum oozing from the slit as you step in the shower running your fingers through your hair letting out a quiet grunt. You notice something from the corner of your eye when you’re looking up at the shower head, confused you reach for it picking it up you realize it’s a camera.
Imagine you already know who put the camera there I mean how could you not? There was only one man you knew creepy enough to wanna watch you shower and that was you’re roommate, and you know you felt a little generous you thought since you were already hard why not give him a show.
Imagine you sit the camera on a bath shelf and start speaking “I know you’re watching me Lucas” you grin as you bend down a little making sure your face was in full view as you use one hand to run down giving your pec a firm squeeze before gripping at your shaft giving one long stroke. On the other end of the camera Lucas sat in his room in the shared apartment nearly going feral when he sees your hand on your cock.
Imagine his face all red laying originally across his bed he soon gets up hurriedly trapping his laptop making sure the door was locked as he shakily grips the device for dear life feeling himself already aroused by the sight of you touching yourself, wanting nothing more than for your cock to be stuffed inside him as he rubs himself up against his matress letting out a few whines of desperation.
Imagine your hand holding your cock pointed straight at the camera giving him the perfect shot of your veins pulsing beneath your fingers while you bite at your bottom lip “didn’t know u had a total creep of a roommate, Lucas?~” you coo hazily standing in the shower the water running down your body down past your thighs with a few heaves meanwhile Lucas on the other hand wasn’t nearly as calm.
Imagine his hands fumbling with his zipper sitting the laptop on his bed as he pulls his boxers down placing the laptop on his pillows in front of his face as he drools, two fingers shoved between his lips with him laying on his stomach removing his fingers with them all coated in spit as he presses them to his rim pressing one finger in moving it in sync with your hand imagining it was your cock inside him as adrenaline fills his head making his body numb to the pleasure only becoming more infatuated with you each second as he murmurs out “y-es~” over and over.
Imagine when you cum you make sure your cock head is pointed directly at the camera lens, wanting him to see your red, angry looking tip when you climax. Your body tensing up intentionally not letting him see the face you make when you orgasm, only attempting to further tease your roommate with what he can’t seem to fully grasp hold of, which is you. “Hope you enjoyed my little show Lucas”
Imagine when Lucas sees that he’s in a whole other world of need, if he was feral before it was like he was a rabbit in the middle of heat because he pulled his hands away from himself with a little gasp while getting up not even bothering to turn his computer off, pouncing on you as soon as you make it to your bedroom with his brain all fuzzy and fast from your menacing taunts pulling your towel off.
Imagine your night ending with your roommate on top of you his thighs straddling you with his hands gripping your shoulders tightly mewling his lips all parted wide and his eyes half lidded and rolled back glossed over while he erratically lifts himself over and over again riding you harshly even when he feels like his rim is on fire from being stretched so long, you give his ass cheek a slap punching the ref handprint grumbling in his ear “this was what you wanted right?” As you hold his hip tightly grounding yourself deeper inside him pressing to his prostate roughly “then take it Lucas”
#x male reader#x male reader smut#yandere cw#male yandere x male reader#yandere original character#yandere oneshot#yandere oc#sub yandere#bottom yandere#male yandere#bottom male yandere#yandere x reader#yandere character#yandere mlm#mlm yandere#x top reader#x top male reader#x dom male reader#x dom reader#dom reader#top reader#Yandere#yandere x male reader#yandere obsession#mlm ns/fw#gay mlm#dark content x male reader#dark content#tw dark content#sleep-0-deprived
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