#he’d be so gentle 🥹

[crimsonkenjii-writes]

Virgin!Giyuu who couldn’t hold back his soft moans and gasps when you first sink down on him

Virgin!Giyuu who was too shy to hold you and press his hands against you until you grab his hands and guide him where you want to be touched

Virgin!Giyuu who nearly came instantly once you started to pick up more speed, already near his climax just from feeling your warm walls around him for the first time

Virgin!Giyuu who cums so hard he’s out of breath and dizzy and his mind can only think about you and how good you feel and he only wants more

Virgin!Giyuu who easily got addicted to the feeling of you clenched around his dick and now can’t stop thinking of all the different positions he wants to try with you

Virgin!Giyuu who shyly tells you he wants to do this again with you if you’d allow him with a bright red glowing on his cheeks and the tips of his ears

[allpromarlo]

oki thinkpieces r done WELCOME BACK BABYYYYYY I MISSED U SO MUCH

[francixoxoxo]

there is the also the option where the players get him to play a practice with them and they are purposefully a little harder on him to get him to need to get checked out by you

Omg I was thinking of how they might hurt him to get him to need you 😭this would be absolutely perfect, he’s demonstrating a drill or something and instead of tapping him to just show the essence of a tackle they actually tackle him and he’s surprisingly not mad, he actually misses playing football like that, but he’s definitely a little bewildered when he gets to remember what it was like to be hurt doing the sport 😭

And you’re so careful with him when his knee gets hurt, making him lie down so you can fix him up, and he’s stifling groans of pain because he does NOT want to look like a wuss in front of you

[seiwas]

i maxxed the tags (what did i expect) but!!

what a soft piece ari 🥺 thank you for sharing this hurt/comfort piece w us!! i think satoru will always be a figure of strength—but i think it’s in part because that’s how he brands himself to be around the people he cares about. he’ll never truly share how he thinks and feels about things, will almost always downplay it really. but he’s always worrying, always aware and cautious, overthinking 🥺 and i felt that loads here!!

there’s a shipwreck stuck between your ribs ; satoru gojo

synopsis; three times satoru sees you cry, and the understanding you gain of each other from it.

word count; 4.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, the synopsis speaks for itself i think, copious amounts of hurt/comfort, i just think he’d be so good at comforting u :ccc, also fluff!!, he’s addicted to calling u ”baby,” satoru gojo vs human emotion (he loses)

a/n; pls ignore the fact that 90% of my gojo fics are hurt/comfort ok we dont need to get into that <33 the writing in this one might be a lil rusty but im pretty fond of this gojo :’3

dim lights, buttery popcorn, and boredom.

the senses invading his mind are mellow, coaxing, a little tedious. all he can see are the buzzing lights before him, all he can hear is the insistent chewing of the people around him, and all he can feel is just that:

boredom.

satoru stifles a yawn, resting his cheek on the heel of his palm. he’s trying to pay attention — really, he is. trying to pay attention to the movie he picked out himself, after thoughtful consideration, one he’s been looking forward to watching with you all week. he’s trying his best. but, gosh, it’s just so boring.

or maybe he just doesn’t have it in him today — with all these too-dim lights, too-loud popcorn-chewers, and the too-convoluted plot playing on the big screen in front of him. he has no idea what’s happening, anymore, what scene this is supposed to be. some sob-story? he clocked out a while ago.

so, with nothing better to do — satoru decides to savour another view.

that’s how it always goes. no matter the movie, no matter the snacks, whether you’re watching at home on the couch or a nearby movie theatre — eventually, when his eyelids begin to grow heavy, or when his attention span begins to falter, that blue-soaked gaze of his shifts. a moth to a flame, following his instincts. constantly looking over to see what kind of face you're making. 

after all, your reactions are far more entertaining than any movie could ever hope to be. little sighs of exasperation, jolts and shivers down your spine, or a laughter so bubbly he can’t resist leaning in for a kiss or ten — he loves it. adores it. lives and dies by it. 

so satoru turns his head, and looks at you, knowing you’ll save him from the boredom clutching at his subconscious. 

and something in his chest constricts.

at first, he doesn’t notice it. hungrily lapping over the expanse of your jaw, to your cheekbones, his gaze drinking in everything he can see. scanning your eyes for a hint of emotion; and he finds it. he finds it in something that glimmers in the dim lighting of the theatre, something that has his breath drawing back to the depths of his throat.

tears.

crystalline, dew-drawn, a fresh set of tears clinging to the edge of your lash line. they’ve yet to fall, but satoru sees them — he sees them and he doesn’t know what to do. 

tears. 

tears?

you’re crying.

in the depths of your glassy eyes, he sees a fractured scene — playing against the scope of your iris, as the movie reflects off your pupils. there’s a turmoil there, a sadness, one that has you covering your mouth with the front of your knuckle. and you’re crying.

satoru wants to tease you. he wants to lean over and purr against the shell of your ear, poke fun at you for being so emotional. such a little baby. what else is he supposed to do?

the tricky part is that he can’t. he can’t move, can’t shape his voice into a purr, can’t even speak. he’s frozen in place like a bug trapped in amber, stuck to his seat, unable to do anything but blink at you in what he thinks might be bewilderment.

his breath hitches — and that’s all. 

something about the sight of you makes him falter, makes him stop in his tracks. catches him off guard. he doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t recognize the feeling stirred deep within his chest, something discomforting and foreign. doesn’t understand why his heart feels so itchy, all of a sudden.

then your eyes meet.

and you blink. once, then twice. eyes just a little wide, an embarrassed kind of surprise. he thinks you must be flustered, and he’s proven right when your gaze flees from his.

a mingle of words clog up at the base of his throat. say something, say something, say something. but he doesn’t know what. 

he wets his lips, preparing to part them, but before he can get the first syllable out you're leaning in. close. close enough that he feels your breath ghost against the shell of his ear, close enough that his heart starts skipping the way it always does when you press yourself against him like that’s where you belong.

a whisper. it’s small, hushed, a little frail. but there’s something else, too, laced together with the vowels — amusement. 

”you didn’t tell me this was a sad movie.”

a pout plays at your lips, as you murmur your grievances. but then there’s that amusement; it’s there when you pull back, in the crinkle of your sparkling eyes, the curve of your smile. 

and satoru’s shoulders relax. stiffened bones melting. he exhales a breath he had no idea he was holding, and his heart feels at ease. a grin finds it’s way to his lips, wide, teasing, cheshire and sweet. 

he leans a little closer, bumping his head against yours. gently. ”i think you’re just sensitive, baby.”

his teasing is rewarded with a little huff, as your elbow meets his side. soft. everything you do is soft. 

”oh, shut up,” you scoff. smiling. he’s so relieved that you’re smiling. 

a moth to a flame, following his instincts, satoru brings you closer. an arm around your waist, pulling you into his orbit, until you’re practically sharing seats. searching for your hand — and he finds it, intertwining his long fingers with yours, just to give it a little squeeze.

(for some reason, he feels more protective than usual.)

he feels your gaze. questioning, maybe. but you melt into him quickly, with your head slumped against his shoulder, and his heart settles back into a sleepy rhythm. just watching the movie pass you by.

the dim lighting of the theatre casts a hazy shadow over your face, a tender desaturation, and his eyes stay glued to it when you aren’t looking. the smell of popcorn hangs heavy in the air, salty and buttery, warm and sweet, and he’s almost grateful to feel that familiar boredom tug at his veins.

anything is fine. anything is better than that discomfort, that irritating itch. 

satoru watches the movie flicker by, scene by scene, whispering commentary into your ear and stealing your popcorn with a satisfied hum. chuckling when you whisper-shout at him to cut it out!

he tries not to think of the glittering tears at your lash line, and almost succeeds.

rain clouds, cups of chamomile, and frustration.

it seeps out into the open air, engulfing your living room in a feverish haze. thick and suffocating; the scent of heavy rain, lukewarm tea, and that ugly, ugly feeling underneath his skin.

it pulses. it itches. and oh, how it aches.

satoru hates it. he hates feeling angry, feeling upset — hates when either of those emotions are in connection to you. hates it, hates it, hates it more than anything.

he does everything he possibly can to avoid it; his eyes are keen, always have been, and he can see when that thin line he shouldn’t cross crawls a little too close for comfort. when the rubber band of your patience just snaps. he sees all your buttons, knows which ones not to push. he knows you.

and, more importantly, more than anything — nothing you do could ever make him angry at you. 

(well, at least that’s what he thought.) 

satoru’s anger is a fickle thing, controlled, kept under wraps. it’s a slow process; it simmers, boils, a cup of chamomile brewed too long. and then it all but invades his senses. it never gets the best of him, never, but right now he can feel it — little pinpricks against his skin, a frustration that stirs his guts and has his eyes going cold.

satoru towers over you, like this. full height on display. not slouching or draping himself over furniture, but standing tall, and proud, and menacing. he isn’t smiling, and that’s all you need to know that he’s upset with you. his eyes are layered over with discontentment. 

a sigh spills from his lips, a little gruff, unmistakably annoyed. it slices the silence of the room in half, and a shiver travels down your spine. he doesn’t notice it. his voice has a rough edge to it, something firm. something that doesn’t sound like it could come out of his mouth at all.

”don’t act like such a child.”

a flinch. or maybe more like a jolt; this time, he notices, but it’s too late. he’s in too deep, boiled water licking at his ankles, pulling him down. frustration nips at his skin, and he can’t quite seem to push it away.

and you’re just so, so unaccustomed to it. unaccustomed to seeing him wear anything but a smile, unaccustomed to that cold gaze, usually nothing but warm and fond when it meets your own. this isn’t like him.

it’s not like him at all.

swallowing thickly, you do your best to calm down. but before you can make any attempt to contain it, wetness begins to gather in the corners of your eyes. pooling, little droplets yearning to fall.

satoru notices them instantly. he sees that sad glimmer, framed by the murky darkness seeping in from beyond the curtains, accompanied by the symphony of pitter patter against the windowpane. tears, much like the rain beating down outside.

and his chest goes cold.

a tiny sniffle pushes past your lips, and the dam inside you begins to break — tears tripping over your lash line, rolling down your cheeks. cascading across your pretty face. the air fills with a sense of dread, and both of you seem to be thinking the exact same thing.

(oh, fuck.)

satoru notices, belatedly, that his throat has gone dry. that his heart feels itchy, again. it itches and itches but he can’t do anything to soothe it, and your tears continue to fall. 

his heart begins to crack. right down the middle, like a gash in the reflection of a puddle, right across his chest. it hurts.

an inhale, then an exhale. you’re still trying to keep it all together, grasping for control over your emotions, but it’s not going too well. the little breaths that escape your throat are shaky at best, hands trembling as you wipe the tears away with the front of your wrists. and your voice sounds a little like it’s about to crumble away. 

��sorry,” you squeak, taking a step back. there’s a silent panic in the gesture, one that makes satoru want to get down on his knees. ”i’ll just — i’ll leave —”

he wants to stop you. he needs to stop you. but he does nothing, nothing at all, even as you stumble out. leaving the haunting echo of tiny sniffles and tear-stained cheeks behind you. 

satoru just stands there. once again, the sight of your tears seems to render him completely helpless. useless.

and he's frustrated, honestly. frustrated by the argument, by your tears, by his own guilt. he’s so frustrated he wants to claw his eyes out. he scratches at his forearm, but it does no good. all he can think of is your frightened little expression.

(he scared you.)

satoru slumps down on the couch, head in his hands, running rough fingers through his soft hair. it’s unruly by the time he’s done, and his bottom lip is bruised with teeth marks, and everything in the world feels so meaningless. so out of tune.

(he made you cry.)

a sigh. drawn out, tinged with exhaustion, bitter and battered like the swing of a baseball bat. he feels a little like he could throw up. it’s foreign, this emotion, suffocating. how long has it been since he genuinely felt this kind of shame?

the crack in his heart grows deeper, while you’re gone. more severe. every moment you spend outside of his vision makes him falter more and more, makes his desperation grow. desperate to plead for your forgiveness, to convince you not to leave. to wipe the tears away from your cheeks, delicately, the way you deserve. but he can do nothing but sit there, useless, repeating the same old phrase inside his mind.

he’ll make it up to you.

and when you finally come back, having calmed down a bit, he does just that. you’re embarrassed, he can tell, a little meek. it makes him feel that discomforting emotion, again, that ache. the crack that only ever seems to deepen.

but he covers it all up with a smile. a little sheepish, more than a little forced, but he hopes you understand. hopes you can see his remorse, see a man who loves you, because he does. 

so satoru takes you into his arms, softly, hands finding the small of your back. delicate, protective. a little whisper spilling from his lips. 

”’m sorry, baby. i didn’t mean it.”

and it’s not enough. he knows it isn’t. but he does what he can — even when it just ends up clumsy, teasing, bordering on something that most would interpret as insincere. all he can do is coddle you. shower you in hugs and kisses, gifts and praises. he hands it out like candy, eager hands finding yours, everything spilling out of his chest all at once. 

there’s a desperation to it that isn’t lost on you.

but it works. he’ll make it up to you; he swears. and he dotes on you until you’re too embarrassed to be sad anymore, apologizes until his throat runs dry. until he’s sure you believe him. 

he brews you another cup of chamomile, stirred to perfection, warm enough to make up for the shiver he sent down your spine. the rain beating down on your windows serves as a constant reminder of his failure, and satoru does his best to ignore it. swallowing what’s left of his frustration, focusing on you.

anything to see you smile again. anything to wash away the red tint to your eyes, the puffy skin beneath them. anything to hear you laugh, to get you to feel safe around him again. 

(anything to make him forget the sight of those tears rolling down your cheeks.)

panic, panic, panic.

it’s all he can feel, all he can think, the only emotion his muddled mind can cling to. he’s in pure, sincere, genuine panic, and you aren’t saying a thing. can’t bring yourself to.

arms wrapped around his waist, tightly, you hide away in the crook of his neck. clutching the fabric of his shirt, burrowing your face deeper into his warmth — and you’re not just crying.

you’re downright sobbing.

satoru knew something was off the moment you fell into his embrace, suddenly, tackling him into a hug so desperate it left him reeling. a kind of desperation he isn’t used to, from you.

he knew something was wrong. 

he knew even before he heard it; your choking sobs, those shaky, heaving breaths. muffled into the cotton of his shirt, his uncertain arms around you.

they break his heart.

”hey, hey…” there’s a soothing lilt to his voice, awfully delicate. sweet like molten honey, almost enough to hide the panic. ”what’s wrong?”

satoru holds you to his chest, safe and secure, cradling you protectively. as if shielding you from the world — from whatever or whoever got you like this. as if you’d crumble into dust, otherwise.

he tries to calm down, but his mind is spinning like a broken clock, and your silence doesn’t help. you’re trying to respond; he knows you are, but you just can’t get the words out. any attempts only make you cry harder.

a shake of your head is all he gets — and it’s not much, but satoru’s learned to make a lot out of a little. 

so he continues to hold you, hiding his worry, tucking his anxiety away somewhere you won’t be able to see. he curses, inwardly, grasping blindly for conclusions — for some divine guidance. how is he supposed to deal with this?

(how long has it been since he felt so very useless?)

gentle. that’s the approach he takes, finally, hiding his nervosity. he rocks you back and forth, just a little, like he’s lulling you to sleep; his warm hands finding the small of your back, the back of your head. cradling you so close you hear his rapid heartbeat by your ear.

soothing whispers. murmured into your hair, so soft they seem to melt once they slip from his tongue, all honey and devotion. affection so palpable you taste it in the air, from the breaths he exhales. 

”it’s fine. i’m here, i’m here… i’ve got you.”

he doesn’t know what he’s doing, not really, but it seems to work. because you calm down, after a while, just sniffling into his neck and letting him soothe you. sobs and unstable heaves, turning into whimpers and shaky breaths. clinging to him all the while; so desperate for comfort, for him.

it makes him feel so, so desperate to protect you, to wash every single one of your worries away.

it’s unbearable, this aching desire. like a great, insatiable, unnamed something deep within the caverns of his chest, clawing at his ribcage, snarling and hissing, itching to break out so it can open its maw and devour you both.

(it’s ugly. it’s grotesque. it wants to keep you safe so badly it might kill him for it.)

a coo. sad, dripping with care, a comforting tone that he hopes you’ll find soothing. he smooths his palm down the back of your head, heavy, doting. it hurts so much to see you hurt.

”my baby….” satoru exhales, a little shaky. but he smiles, and he hopes you can hear it, hopes it’ll help mend the pain in your chest. ”what’s got you this upset, hm? you're worrying me, here…”

a broken sniffle. the guilt eats at you, gnaws at your bones, and all you can do is hide away in the crook of his neck. apologizing, your voice no more than a tremor of a breath.

”’m sorry…”

and satoru thinks his heart shatters. he can practically hear the crash, feel the broken, useless little pieces dig into his skin.

his arms travel down to your hips, steady, and he lifts you up. just for a second, just so he can plop down on the floor with you in tow — keeping you snuggled into his neck. seated on his lap with your legs around his waist, like you’re his baby koala.

”shh, it's okay,” he soothes, a grounding rumble of his chest right by your ear. he’s got you enveloped, wrapped up in his buzzing warmth, and all you can feel is him. ”you’re okay. no matter what it is, i'll take care of it, alright? you can rely on me.”

a moment passes. 

satoru clears his throat. nervous, suddenly. ”you know that, right?”

all you can give him is a shaky nod, but it’s enough. he sighs, in palpable relief, still rubbing circles into your back. ”okay,” he sneaks a hand underneath your shirt, tracing little shapes into your bare skin. ”good.”

he isn’t sure how long you spend there, on the floor, entirely focused on comforting you. washing away all your sadness, with every gentle caress, every soothing murmur of there, there… every little stutter of his heartbeat next to yours.

and when you’ve finally calmed down, melting under his touch and into his skin, arms going lax around his neck — satoru takes a breath. collecting himself, so you don’t have to. acting like his heart isn’t still a mess of crushed glass.

”you okay now?” he coos, drawing absentminded hearts into the skin of your back. his voice is teasing, but warm, spilling from his tongue and into your ear. deep and smooth. ”almost gave me a heart attack, baby.”

he feels the way your grip around him tightens, just a smidge, and he hears the weak little breath you draw in. your voice is still shaky, and it makes him want to rearrange the world, stitch those broken vowels back together. 

(he doesn’t like how irrational it is, this insatiable something. how it makes him want to bend the rules of the universe, just to see you smile. a dangerous temptation.)

”i’m sorry,” you croak, clinging to him like a shipwreck to a shore. ”it’s not — not a big deal, ’m just…” 

satoru pulls back. just a little bit, making sure your arms and legs stay in their rightful place, curled around his neck and waist. making sure the two of you stay connected.

then he pinches your cheek.

”don’t apologize,” he quips, a playful frown on his face. soft, a vague furrow of his brows. like he’s scolding you. 

it makes you wince, your eyes downcast. you look so meek. a little like a kicked puppy, glassy eyes glancing up at him in search of comfort.

satoru clicks his tongue. ”and don’t look at me like that, either.” 

he boops your nose, playful, doting, and you exhale weakly. it’s small, more breath than a real laugh, but you’re almost smiling, and —

it’s a start. it’s something.

satoru coos, voice dripping with warmth, sickeningly sweet. it seeps from his fingertips when he cradles your cheek in his palm, rubbing circles into the puffy skin beneath your eyes. there’s a mirth in his own, crinkled at the edges, tucked into that blue shade, something glazed over with pure adoration.

”there’s that smile.” 

he leans forward, closer, to press a kiss against the bridge of your nose, eyelashes fluttering. tickling your skin. you fall further into his embrace and he makes no move to resist, wouldn’t do it even if he physically could. even if he had the strength to let you go.

then he broaches the subject. hesitant. tactful, careful, delicate — he tries to remember how it works. how to handle something fragile. he thinks of those boxes you carried last week, little porcelain cups. heavy in his arms. he thinks of the way you jab his side with your elbow; gentle, always gentle, even though there’s never any need.

he thinks of you, and it all comes easy. that’s how it always goes.

”wanna talk about it?” he asks, softly. fingers treading through your hair, scratching softly at your scalp. it makes you melt, a little. clearing your throat.

”it’s nothing, really,” you mumble, tiny, seeking respite in the warmth that seeps from his body. speaking with a raspy voice, a hoarse throat, all tired out after crying. ”nothing big, anyway…” 

a moment passes, before you continue. ”i guess it's just been a rough week,” you admit, a sigh slipping from your lips, tinged with pure exhaustion. ”just little things piling up. ’m okay now.” 

a hum. satoru clears his throat.

”anything i can do?”

(please let me help.)

but you only shake your head. ”you’ve already done enough,” you assure him, leaning into his touch. ”think i just needed to get it all out, y’know?”

a beat. an itch. satoru holds you tight, a little tighter than he should. gentle, he reminds himself. but he needs you close enough to feel the flutter of your heartbeat, close enough to delude himself that you’ve merged together. closer isn’t close enough.

he gnaws at his bottom lip, teeth sinking into the flesh. pulling words out from the back of his throat, uncertain. ”i’m always here,” he settles on. ”if there’s anything you need, come straight to me. okay?”

a frown plays at your lips. you’re silent, for a while, until he hears you mumble beneath your breath.

”i don’t want to bother you so much, though…”

”— it’s not a bother.”

the words spill into the air, a little more firm than he meant to sound. but he means them.

”i’m serious. if you ever need help, with anything, come find me. i’m yours,” satoru inhales, deep, his chest moving in tune with the breath. you’re carried along with it, as if being lulled to sleep, following the steady pattern of his lungs. 

then he exhales. in, and out, and with it comes a promise. ”if anyone makes you cry, i’ll get rid of them.”

he says it casually, so casually that you assume it’s a joke, a bout of breathless giggles pushing past your lips. the sound has his own curling up, and he doesn’t have the heart to correct you. has enough tact to know that this might not be the best moment to let you know that he’s honestly a little terrified of how far he’d be willing to go to keep you safe and happy. 

but you’re smiling, finally, laughing. and that matters more than anything. when he closes his eyes, he thinks he can even feel the telltale signs that his heart is picking itself back up, gluing jagged shards into a shape that resembles you.

"that's scary!” you gasp, amusement bubbling up inside your throat. ”you’d go to jail for me?”

satoru huffs. ”bold of you to assume i’d get caught,” he tuts, a smug smile on his face. it makes you giggle, again, and he feels like a god.

”okay, okay,”  you nose at his neck, breathing him in, strawberry lotion and laundry detergent filling your senses. ”please don’t kill anyone on my behalf, though.”

”no promises.”

”satoru…”

slowly, steadily, his heart begins to stitch itself together. it helps that you’re there, he thinks. helps that you’re pressed up against him, that you’re holding him, like he’s the safest thing in the world. like you trust him.

(the word tastes like molten honey and luscious berries, sickly-sweet on his tongue. he gulps it down hungrily.)

it’s healing. the weight of your arms around him, the breaths that brush against his neck. he holds you to keep you together, intact, to keep himself together. a shipwreck and a shore — he just isn’t sure which one of you is which. but your jagged edges fit just right with his own.

”i don’t like seeing you cry.”

you blink. gazing up at him, with a contemplative look in your eyes. it melts into something a little too close to guilt for his liking. shame.

”— but i still want you to let me see you like that.” satoru smiles, with a tilt of his head. snowy tufts of hair falling across his face. ”is that weird?”

a moment passes. then you hum.

”no,” you exhale, a little breathless. smiling, somewhat weak, but still enough to have his heart skipping a beat. ”i love that about you, satoru.”

”huh?” he gapes at you — blinking dumbly. ”love what? that i want to see you sob into my chest?”

”that you try,” you stifle a yawn, sleepily nuzzling into him, all tuckered out from crying. ”even when it makes you a little uncomfortable.”

satoru stills. 

silence fills the space between you. there’s nothing more to say. his tongue isn’t really cooperating with him, anyhow — all tied up. so he leaves a kiss on the top of your head, and doesn’t say a word about the tremor running through his chest. 

he hates seeing you cry. hates how powerless it makes him feel, how useless. hates the fact that he can’t always protect you from the world, from himself.

but you let him see you like that.

he thinks of your tears, crystalline and glassy, like translucent marbles on a summer shore — and sees the trust instead of the sorrow. he thinks of your tearstained face, meek and feeble, and knows it’ll always be enough to break his heart to pieces. 

he thinks of you, and tells himself that it’s worth it; just as long as he gets to bring that pretty little smile back to life. 

[kitimeq]

ੈ✩‧₊˚we can’t be friends 🤍 xavier 星回 ੈ✩‧₊˚

RE-UPLOAD! The original post didn’t show up in the tags, sorry for the confusion :c

pairing ੈ✩: xavier x reader

summary ੈ✩: you and xavier had been best friends for years, nearly inseparable since the moment you met. But after one slightly drunken night, everything shifted: you became friends with benefits. You told yourself you could handle it, but as time went on, your heart began to ache. You had to end it, for your own sake. You were in love with him, but you couldn't shake the painful truth: you believed he’d never feel the same. Still, what if, all this time, while you were trying to push him away, he was quietly hoping to show you how perfect you two were together?

word count ੈ✩: 12k. omg. it’s LONG, long. grab some snacks and let me entertain you for a while!!

tropes ੈ✩: 18+, smut, best friends with benefits, miscommunication, unrequired love, not really tho, angst, angst with happy ending, plot with porn, love confessions, needy xavier, obsessed xavier, domestic xavier, i suck at giving tropes i swear i will get better someday, desperate xavier, everything is consensual, the consumption of alcohol mentioned, pet names, xavier was once in love with mc but the myths are not canon in this one!!

author’s note ੈ✩: GUYS this one’s IT. This idea was blooming slowly in my mind for quite some time. I really hope you’ll like it 🥹 also, please be gentle with me, i’m not a native speaker of english and I’m definitely not a writer. I like to think that everything i create is just fueled by my passionate delulu. please let me know if you liked it and if maybe you’d like to read part 2!! ♡ enjoy your reading!!

!!do NOT read if you’re not 18+!!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 

It all started with the simplest of touches.

Your hands grazed, as if by accident. Then your eyes met. He grabbed you by your forearm, or maybe you grabbed him, everything was so blurry in your mind. A touch on a waist, a hand on a chest, and a sudden clash of your lips. You saw fireworks exploding in your mind, sending pleasant thrumming throughout your whole body.

Desperate touches. Rapid breaths. A whisper, maybe two. He said something. What did he say? The sound of your heart was the only thing you could hear.

Your dress came off. You felt lips. Lips marking every part of your body, leaving behind wet paths that made the exposed skin shiver due to the coolness of the air. He went down. Down. Down, and looked at you expectantly. Your head never nodded that quickly and it probably never will again. You saw stars. Millions and millions of them, shimmering under your closed eyelids. He grabbed your hand and put it into his hair. You caressed it gently, savoring the softness of it.

Then, you saw his eyes. Beautiful, deep blues that looked far too innocent for what he did and what he was about to do with you next. He kissed you again and again, and again, and he held you close throughout the whole night, making you shiver, moan, cry, beg — until you fell asleep from exhaustion right in the safety of his arms. He turned your world upside down.

And then came the next morning, when you began to question the entire ordeal. You panicked, thinking about your friendship that you valued the most and Xavier, whom you just couldn’t bear to lose. However, when you wanted to put it past you, to blame the alcohol consumed that night, act as if it was just a slip of your judgement, a mistake, a reaction caused by the need of intimacy after being single for a long time, he wasn’t having it. He said that he couldn’t forget about it, that it changed things, and you blurted out the first thing that came into your mind. You proposed the whole arrangement.

And that’s how, after several months, your relationship with Xavier stayed clear and technically uncomplicated. Friends with benefits. You thought that even if that night did change things, then in this way you could act as if it wasn’t a big deal to you. In this way, you wouldn’t have to lose him, wouldn’t make things awkward. You still acted normally in front of each other, you continued to spend time in almost the same way you were before that faithful night, but with one drastic change.

Almost every encounter since that night ended with you in his bed or the other way around. Hours and hours spend in each other’s embrace, touching and feeling too much, all at once.

And said feelings were what made you finally decide that you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t continue sharing with him this intimacy, pretending that everything between you remained unchanged. You couldn’t do this anymore, knowing that it was all that you’ll ever get from him, despite being in love with him for so long.

You knew that he would never reciprocate your feelings. You knew that from the beginning, from the very first touch of your fingertips that night, but you foolishly thought that having him close for as long as he wanted you, would be enough for you. Even if he wanted you only for your body, because you were the easiest choice.

However, your heart was breaking every time you were reminded of one significant fact, a harsh reality that felt like a bucket of cold water in your face.

He will never love you. Because you were not her.

And you would never be.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

You already had a strategy to end the arrangement. You wanted to take it slow, step by step, with just a bit of pain on your side. You knew it wasn't your best plan, but it was a plan nonetheless. You wanted to end the friends-with-benefits arrangement in a way that would make you both slowly, almost naturally, drift apart—so subtly that he wouldn't even notice the change. As for you, you were ready to bear the painful consequences of your actions, if it saved you from the excruciating pain of a broken heart later.

You started with avoiding his kisses.

And it turned out to be a tough job to do, because you didn’t realize before how much of a kisser Xavier became during your friends-with-benefits situation. It never really bothered you before, you always accepted every single kiss with content. However, during your last meeting, you were trying so hard to avoid his lips, and noticed that he made it into an almost impossible task.

When you went out one night, he wanted to kiss you three times during hot pot, even though you were sitting across from each other. You thought that the sitting situation was enough of an obstacle, but you quickly learned that he always somehow managed to find a chance to try to steal a kiss. That not only bewildered you, but also made you blush so hard that you had to blame the spicy food for it to not look suspicious. Yet, you managed to stay your ground and ignored his needy attempts at capturing your lips.

You also avoided his lips while you were later watching a movie in his apartment, by pretending that you didn’t see or feel his constant gaze on you. You thought that maybe if he saw that the movie engaged you so much, he would finally drop the attempts. Unfortunately, your plan failed the moment his patience thinned, when he started kissing your neck while cradling your body to his. He was grabbing at you almost desperately and you really couldn’t escape from every single kiss he was giving you, no matter how much you tried to. And you really tried to.

“Why—why are you turning your face away? A-Ah… Let me look at y-you—mmm.” He said between his moans, and he never once stopped thrusting inside you. It was the day when he took you on a sofa between his soft, plushy pillows with the movie still playing in the background. Your legs were laying on his shoulder, his both hands holding onto them tightly while his hips thrusted deep inside you, making you gasp in pleasure. When you didn’t respond and kept your head away, hoping that he would finally stop with his relentless kisses, his hand gently grabbed your face and turned it towards his so that your eyes met. He smiled softly, his cheeks pink and face damp. “Yes, there you are. You feel good? You wanna break?” He almost slurred and you adored how quickly he was loosing himself with you, how much he was loosing his composure. When you squeezed your eyes, moaning at a harder thrust and shook your head no, he whimpered. Next thing you knew, he lowered your legs onto the sofa and layed between them, bringing his body closer to yours. Your chests touched and you could feel his rapid heartbeat, mirroring the rhythm of your own. He nudged your head, which was still turned to the side, with his nose.

“Give me a kiss, c’mon, starlight.” He kissed your cheek, slowing down his thrusts to a lazy, delicate ones. “I couldn’t get a kiss all day, I need it. Let me.” And when you saw his eyes, full of desperation and something that reminded you of adoration, you couldn’t keep denying him. Your lips touched his and he didn’t let go of them until you came, and later when he began growling straight into your mouth, chasing his own undoing.

It was the last time you met up, and after that you decided that you had to cut it off completely. You couldn’t continue being with him like this, not when you knew that he already loved someone else. Being with him this close messed with your head. You didn’t want to feel like a convenient second choice and you couldn’t help but feel that your meetings were slowly becoming more and more intimate. You had to constantly remind yourself that you weren’t together. You made sure to label the change in your relationship properly at the start of the arrangement — still on friendly terms, with occasional mutual pleasure. But the close proximity and constant intimacy started to make the lines blurry in your mind.

And your heart couldn’t take it anymore, it hurt every time you reminded yourself that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, and that he never will.

After that movie night you decided that the next step to your goal would be to stop engaging in small talk with him, especially the one that occurred at work.

You worked together at the Hunter’s Association, he was one of the best Hunters out there, and you specialized in weapon modification from the safety of your own desk. You wanted to be a hunter once, but with your Evol involving micromodification you guessed that you could be needed in a position that involved working with weaponry. After working there for years, you were passionate about your work and elated to have a job you loved and where you thrived while helping others to the best of your abilities.

Thus, because of the shared place of employment, you saw Xavier almost every day. He was often near your desk, passing by it, putting snacks before you or teasing you with that soft smile of his. So cutting the contact out there was one of the toughest jobs for you, but it had to be done.

When you knew that he would be free, you found a task that needed completion in other departments, so that you will not cross paths. Often, instead of others coming to you to fix their weapons, you proposed to make the trip instead. In this way you were always quick on your feet, going from department to department, back to the workshop and again to the others’ desks. You didn’t mind the extra activity, it made you think less about your breaking heart.

And when Xavier managed to catch you from time to time, because he always somehow would, you were trying to appear too busy even for a small conversation.

“Where are you rushing off to again? I didn’t manage to talk to you these past few days.” He said one day when he caught you by your elbow while you were going out of the bathroom. He must’ve seen you go in there and wait for you to come out. He brought you a little closer to himself and looked at your face so intently, that you got scared he could see right through you.

“Sorry Xai, I’m just really busy lately.” You answered, maybe too quickly, and were trying to calm your beating heart upon seeing him so close again. Too close. It didn’t help that he was in his hunter’s uniform, that made him look twice as dreamy. You were so close that you could also smell his comforting scent and see the small scar on his cheek that he got last year after you two tried ice skating for the first time.

The first and the last, for it appeared that you were much better at it than he would ever be, and you wanted to avoid him getting hurt again. It was also before your friends-with-benefits situation, when your friendship was pure and healthy. Your heart squeezed remembering how he grabbed your hand then, and how tightly he used to hold it throughout the whole activity.

“Xavier, are you sure you don’t want to go back home already? I’m afraid that your cut will scar if we leave it like that.” You said, looking at the bandaid on his cheek, the only remedy for his small injury that you could provide at that time.

He squeezed your hand and still appeared sheepish after his fall. You secretly found him adorable, you never saw him doing something in which he didn’t excel in. It was as if he let you see a part of himself that no one had ever seen before. That thought made your chest warmer.

“No. I won’t let the ice defeat me.” He said surely and you knew that he won’t give up, even if his legs already visibly trembled from exhaustion. You let out a sigh. “Besides, you’re holding my hand now, so I feel much safer.” He looked at you, his voice soft and cheeks red, most likely from the cold air. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state made you completely overcome by the feeling of tenderness, and you send him a huge smile, thinking that it was the first time he relied on your protection, and not the other way around.

Little did you know that this smile would catch him by surprise so much that he slipped backwards, this time pulling you down with him. However, your reflexes slightly worked, because you managed to put your hand behind his head, shielding it from the impact with ice. You landed on him with a groan as his hands moved to pull your body closer.

“Oh god, Xai, are you okay? How did that happen?” You asked him, trying to lift yourself off of him. You felt him relax his head further into your hand, and when you raised yourself enough to face him directly, he sent you a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. This sight made your heart melt.

“See, I knew you would protect me.” He replied, clearly referring to your hand behind his head. “My little savior.” He called you, and when you puffed the air out, annoyed that he could have hurt himself for real this time, his smile turned into a full laugh, his body shaking under yours. He looked so angelic, covered in snow, laughing in a way that was so scarce that you couldn’t help but join him in his moment of happiness.

And thanks to your mittens, your hand was left with only a purple bruise from the impact. Still, Xavier couldn’t let you forget about it up to the day it disappeared completely, expressing guilt for the minor injury, his sight chasing your hand every time it appeared in his line of vision. He often caressed it softly with his fingers, looking at it with a mysteriously thoughtful expression, whispering “My little savior.” under his breath. It made you wish that the bruise would never disappear.

You took a step back, suddenly overwhelmed by the memories and the closeness between you. He always invaded your personal space, stood so close that you could almost feel his breath on your face. This time, you had had to cut it out for your own good.

“S’okay. You’re always busy but I guess I just got used to meeting you near your desk. Just text me after work? Maybe we could meet up for our book club today.” He said and you swallowed the awful feeling of longing in your chest. Book club was the term you came up with when you both just wanted to sit and read together for hours. Unfortunately, you knew how book club sessions looked like since the beginning of your friends-with-benefits arrangement.

You were sitting together in silence, reading for hours, then talked about your books until you both lost your breaths. A wonderful experience, you adored your little reading sessions, but you knew that recently they always ended with his lips on yours, and with your clothes scattered around his bedroom.

You couldn’t let this go on forever. You couldn’t go back to being just friends now, and you couldn’t keep him so close, knowing that he will never fully be yours. You pitied your poor heart.

“Sure, will do. See you around!” You were aware how awkward you sounded, but before he could stop you, you were already off to your another task of the day.

You didn’t text him after work, and neither did you reply to his message in time. The next day you send him an excuse that you were tired and fell asleep quickly, and you hoped that he believed it or didn’t care enough to question you further.

If the distance hurt you this bad now, you couldn’t even imagine how would it feel when he eventually would’ve left you for her.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

The next stage of your plan involved not answering his texts at all. You allowed yourself small replies from time to time, most often very brief, if the situation called for it. Replying excuses from left to right. Then, you incorporated not picking up his calls, especially on weekends, when he appeared to want to see you the most, because you were absent from the Association building and he couldn’t catch even a glimpse of you.

The distance you yourself put between you broke your heart, and you were getting more and more depressed by the day. Ignoring the person you loved wasn’t easy, when he was the one with whom you wanted to spend your time the most.

To distract yourself from the situation, you were trying to pass your time differently. You were meeting up with your family and friends, or you started doing things that you were putting off for ages. Everything and anything to fill the void in your heart caused by the absence of the one you loved. The absence forced by you.

It had to be done, you reminded yourself daily. You had to end this somehow, no matter how it hurt you. You had to move on. You couldn’t still be in love with him the day he would end up with MC. You knew it would ruin you.

Three weeks passed since your last meeting at the Association and you could feel that Xavier was getting impatient. His calls were more frequent. His messages longer. Sometimes while running away from him at work you could catch how he was scanning the room in search of you. How frustrated he seemed to be. How upset.

You understood it. You were best friends after all, and he also probably needed someone near him to help him get his head clear of MC. You knew that it must’ve been hard for him. But you were sure you were doing the right thing, that’s why you kept avoiding him during the past month, and not only it was the longest period you’ve been away from each other since the start of your complicated arrangement, but also the longest time since the start of your friendship. Even when the times were rough, you managed to see each other at least once or twice a week.

You felt the pain of the distance too. Missing him almost every second of the day. But you had your reasons. You didn’t want to try to satiate the hunger he felt for another woman anymore.

So every time his name appeared on your phone screen, along with the picture of him shoving two muffins into his mouth at the same time, you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and waited out the signal, simultaneously praying for and dreading the silence.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

On a quiet rainy day, after a month of ignoring almost every attempt to make contact from Xavier, you heard your phone ping thrice. You sighed and put the book you were reading down, deciding that it was a good moment to reply something short to him in order to slightly ease his worries, and make him feel less alarmed. You wanted distance, but you still sticked to responding from time to time, to appear casual. To let the connection break off less abruptly.

xavier: why cant I see U at all recently.

xavier: why are U not picking up my calls and not replying to my texts.

xavier: are U hiding from me?

you: Of course not, just busy.

xavier: busy for me but not busy for others I know U are going out all the time.

xavier: are U mad at me? did I do something wrong.

you: No, you didn’t, don’t worry. It’s just me. I have a lot of things on my mind recently.

xavier: could U please have me on Ur mind too? I miss U.

xavier: so bad it hurts

You let out a rugged breath, and decided to stop responding, but then another text came. This time, making your blood run cold.

xavier: going back from a rough mission right now i think i need help.

you: Oh my god, are you okay? Are you injured?

xavier: cant tell U why dont you come and see me for Urself.

you: Fine, I need to see if you’re okay. Do you need anything? Food? Medicine? I will pick something up on my way there.

xavier: i just need U

You closed your eyes and hid your face in your palms, then swore it would be the last time. You will go in, treat his wounds and go out. It had to be the last time you allowed yourself to be this close to him, and then you had to cut him off completely. A month wasn’t enough to heal your broken heart, and these small sightings won’t make your heart feel any less burdened.

It had to end today.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

When the door opened, he managed to take your breath away once more.

First, only figuratively. His beauty always managed to amaze you. He looked so handsome no matter the circumstances, his hair so fluffy and shiny, his face like that of an angel, with sharp jawline and soft, pink lips almost screaming at you to be kissed. When you met his eyes, you almost gasped at the intensity of his deep blue gaze. There wasn’t a thing about him you didn’t miss terribly after so much time apart.

Then, literally, when the first thing he did was grabbing your hand and hugging you tightly to his chest, that was still clothed in his hunter uniform. He pressed his face into the crown of your hair and touched the nape of your neck, holding it gently with his cold hand.

“Was the mission that difficult?” You asked, thinking that his reaction to you was mostly due to his need for someone else’s closeness. The need for security. “Were you in danger?” You asked quietly, fear bubbling in your mind.

“No. I lied.” He murmured and you felt him squeezing you even harder, inhaling your scent with content. His hand started stroking your back, slowly making its way under your thin coat. “Didn’t know what else to say to make you come see me.” He said and you hoped that he couldn’t hear, nor feel the sound of your erratic heartbeat.

He shouldn’t say things like these, it made you feel too hopeful. You tried to push that feeling down, knowing that’s how he normally acted with you, his best friend. You knew that he didn’t have a lot of people beside him, thus he treasured the ones that stayed. And that thought made you so incredibly apologetic that you had to swallow the tension in your throat. You hated that you fell for him so hard. You hated that you had to leave him because of it. You hated that you knew, that he would blame himself when you’ll leave.

And you started to hate yourself the most because of all of it.

“Did you miss me that much?” You teased, trying to calm yourself with a friendly banter.

“Yes.” The answer was immediate. The kiss he placed on your temple as natural as breathing. “Everything and everyone seems to be taking you away from me these days.” He said and you could hear him sulking. Your heart squeezed again, but you knew that you were doing the right thing. The distance was necessary.

Necessary for you to avoid breaking. You had to protect yourself first, you decided. You couldn’t remain in love with him forever. You had to move on and in order to do that you had to keep the distance. Which was impossible with him around, when he craved physical touch so badly.

You started to be so mad at yourself for breaking your streak today. You didn’t realize how touchy he will be after some time apart and it was getting to your head. You were so conflicted. You felt too much, and that was always the case when you were around him.

He was in love with someone else. Your head was screaming loudly, trying to calm the wave of unwanted emotions.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. I love you, you thought. “But now I’m here, so maybe I can inspect you for any injuries? You always seem to neglect them as long as they don’t make you bleed out.” You managed to free yourself from his hold and missed how his hands went after you for a second. He didn’t want you to put distance between you two. Not yet, not ever.

He looked into your beautiful, shiny eyes and nodded without a thought. He couldn’t say no to you, not when he saw the still remaining hint of worry in them. Besides, checking for injuries always came with physical contact, and he was so starved. He needed to feel your body close to his. Your hands on him, somewhere, anywhere, everywhere. He felt addicted and craved some kind of relief. He looked after you like a lost puppy, following your footsteps closely, touching the familiar material of your coat that you left on a counter. The distance this past month made him feral, every part of his body screamed to hold you and don’t let go.

You sat down on his couch, and patted the place next to you, hinting at him to sit beside you. He was trying not to appear too eager while doing so, and also when he started taking off the upper part of his uniform. He was almost shaking with excitement knowing that you really came to see him. That you were worried about him. The distance was making him sick. Furious. Desperate. Hurt.

He suppressed a shudder when you touched his shoulder and peeled away the material off his back completely. Your hands were pleasantly warm, as always. He bit his lip trying not to gasp from the contact.

He needed more.

“Xavier.” He hummed, giddy inside upon finally hearing his name from your lips. He was bracing for your outburst. Couldn’t wait for it. “You said you lied about the mission being hard, while having a fucking gash on your back? I-I can’t believe you...” He heard your angry, shaky voice and smirked unintentionally. You were worried about him and he liked that. He liked the attention, when it was coming from you.

Yet, you didn’t know that.

You cursed under your breath and went to grab the first aid kit from one of his drawers, and proceeded to patch the man back up, having no idea that he allowed the Wanderer to injure him, to have an excuse to see you. To keep you with him for a minute longer, even if it was only under the pretense of tending to his injuries. He was ready to do anything at this point to keep you from slipping away from his grasp.

If you knew that, you wouldn’t be so adamant on distancing yourself.

But because you didn’t know, you also didn’t predict that after patching him up, he would propose you to eat dinner with him, making up an excuse that he didn’t want to be alone with his pain. Later, when you wanted to come back to your place, he mentioned he wanted to play kitty cards, the game you adored. You couldn’t refuse him.

During the next hours you spent at his place you both talked in the same way you always used to - about everything and anything, exchanging opinions, stories and everyday thoughts. You laughed together for the first time in weeks, and your cheeks hurt from how much he was able to make you smile. You always had so much fun with him, he was your favorite person in the whole world. You missed him so bad, despite knowing that you couldn’t back out from your plan fully. Yet, you allowed yourself a little break, telling yourself that it was in order for your distancing to not look suspicious. In addition, he was injured, and you felt the need to comfort him in any way you could. The gash on his back wasn’t that deep, but it worried you regardless.

The atmosphere changed drastically only when he managed to win the next round of kitty cards. You jokingly frowned at him, forging displeasure, and he looked directly at your pounting lips. The time seemed to stop when you noticed that look. He raised his hand to touch your collarbone, caressing it with his fingers, up to your neck and over your cheek. He looked deeply into your eyes, and you noticed how dark his became. You found it fascinating that his soft gaze could change so drastically in a matter of seconds.

His hand reached out to grab your chin and brought your face closer to his. And when he whispered: “Could I ask for a reward?” with that dangerous, needy voice of his, you knew that you couldn’t deny him anything.

When your lips touched, you decided that it will be the last time you let it happen. It would be your goodbye, before loosing the feel of his touch. You thought that you could at least make the best of it, get lost in the artificial feeling of being treasured for the last time, before you started the last phase of your plan.

After that, you had to cut off the ties with him completely. No matter the measures. No matter the pain.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Xavier, m-maybe not today?” You asked when you realized how low he was going with his kisses. You knew what he was about to do, and you hated how much you couldn’t contain the sounds that were coming out of your mouth when he was doing it. Besides, it didn’t feel like a mutual pleasure anymore, it felt like an act of service and you were not sure you wanted him to pleasure only you.

He looked at you, having already dropped to his knees. He looked ruined, his hair already a mess from the touch of your fingers, lips wet and swollen, shirt off displaying his toned chest, bandaged in the center with caution. He was practically heaving. The sight made you blush.

“Why not?” He voice sounded whiny, his lips already kissing the inside of your thigh as if he couldn’t restrain himself. Every kiss send electricity to your already wet core and you found it hard to think clearly. His hands were grabbing your tights possessively, relishing in their softness. “Please, let me eat you out. I’ll make you feel good, I promise.” The pleading in his eyes was so apparent. So unfiltered.

“Don’t you want to get to the point already?” You offered shyly and he huffed out a laugh.

“Where are you trying to run off to this time?” It sounded like a joke, but he appeared annoyed. “Relax, starlight and let me take care of you. Please.” You still hesitated. It made him pout. “I need it, please, star. I want to taste you so bad. I didn’t manage to last time.” He kissed your knee and put his head on it, looking for the answer in your unsure eyes. “Will you let me?” His pleading tone, along with his desperate gaze was what made you break. You whispered a soft confirmation and it was all it took before he quickly put his mouth on your core, licking vigorously, devouring you like the most delicious thing on the planet.

“Mmmm.” You heard him humming, before your own cries, along with the constant tremble of your legs, drowned out any other sound.

He was elated.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Mmmh— Yes. Yes. H—holy—” He whimpered at the same time with his thrusts and squeezed your waist harder, moving his hands up and down your back, caressing it affectionately. “You are s-so warm, so beautiful, fuck—” He moaned when you tightened on him. You stiffed a whimper and tried to commit to memory the touch of his strong hands.

He was taking you slowly from behind and the pace was almost unbearable for you. You needed more, and you couldn’t stand how romantic it felt when he was this gentle with you. However, at the same time you didn’t want him to strain himself, you were aware that the slow pace was reasonable due to the injury on his back. The slow pace did surprise you either way, you thought that after so much time apart he would be quick and rough, chasing his pleasure faster than he normally would. Instead, he acted even more passionately than usual.

The slow pace brought you so much pleasure that you couldn’t contain the sounds escaping from your lips. He kept pressing your most sensitive spots, his thrusts slow, deep and precise. His forehead rest on the back of your shoulder, and you could feel his hot, labored breath pressing against your damp skin.

He made you feel so appreciated, and so cared for, and that made you uneasy. More so, with the accompaniment of the things he was constantly saying to you, from the moment you allowed him to touch you today.

“Can you turn around now? Please, my star, I want to see you.” He half-whispered and started kissing your neck, then moving his mouth to every patch of your skin he could reach: your shoulders, back, arms. No place was left unkissed under his relentless lips. You shook your head no, you didn’t want to let this become even more passionate than it already was. You positioned yourself facing the headboard of the bed from the very beginning, and you were adamant to keep your stance up until the end. You feared that your eyes would betray you, displaying your feelings for him and that was what made you not lose your composure.

Upon hearing your refusal for the third time this night, he proceeded to voice his frustrations by grunting, and thrust into you a little harder. You moaned loudly, surprised at the sudden change of tempo.

“Please, starlight.” He begged, his voice achingly earnest. He picked up the pace and you almost choked with how deep he reached inside of you now. You thought that you could never get used to how big he was, his girth filling you up to the brim. “Turn around. T-turn around for me.”

“X-xavier slow down, I don’t want you to get hurt—” You managed to choke out, grasping sheets with your hands for some kind of stability. You closed your eyes when they were turning upwards, biting your lip in the process. He felt otherworldly, but you couldn’t help but think about the gash on his back. He shouldn’t strain himself.

“Then turn around and look at me.” He repeated and you shook your head again.

“I-I can’t, I—Ah—”

“W-why do you keep—Mmh—denying me?” His voice came out like a growl and he kept up the fast tempo. Then, he grabbed your shoulder and put his other hand on your lower back, making you bend over more. His thrusts got even faster, making you moan louder. “Like that. Yes.” You breathed quietly. So good. He was so, so good. “I just want to see your face. I need to kiss y—A—Ah—Kiss you so bad, so, so, so bad.” He thrusted more deeply, making you involuntarily back out from the stimulation, your body almost collapsing, but he quickly grabbed you with his strong arms, and brought you even closer to him. You saw stars and touched one of the arms that held your whole body — from your waist, between your breasts, to your neck. His arm was so hard, so strong. He was huge compared to you. “No, n-no, don’t run away, star. You feel so good—G-God how I missed this—” He held you closer by the second, pressing more kisses to your shoulders, his thrusts becoming quicker, less deep. You were holding back your tears from how good he felt inside you. “I missed you. I missed you. I miss you.” He started babbling and that’s how you knew he was close.

To your surprise, he suddenly pulled out of you completely and grabbed you by your shoulders, turning you around to finally face him. Before you could show any signs of protest, he lowered himself onto his forearms, caging your head between his biceps so that he could have a perfect view of your face. He took his cock in one of his hands and he slipped himself into you again with ease. You shuddered and cried out softly with astonishment.

“Xavier—!”

“Yes. Yes, that’s my name.” He started thrusting into you again, this time much slower and more attentive, and looked deep into your eyes. You had nowhere to run, the only thing you could do was to close your eyes, but the sight of him so close made you want to never look away. “Say it one more time. Just once.” He looked ethereal, his silver hair wet from the perspiration that gathered oh his forehead, and his cheeks painted a pretty shade of red. You could see how blissful he felt. “So p-pretty.” He finally kissed your lips softly. “So sweet.” He licked into your mouth, deepening the kiss. It made your toes curl, you loved when he kissed you this sloppily. When he released your already swollen lips, there was a string of saliva connecting you. It was all so intense.

“Why were you denying my kisses?” He kissed you again deeply, sucking on your tongue. His slow thrusts made you go insane. “You don’t like kissing me like this?” He sucked on your lips until they were red and swollen. There was so much saliva. He licked them and kissed them again. “I could come from this feeling alone. So soft.” You were shocked at how much he talked. Was he always this talkative? Or were you realizing it only now, when you knew that the closeness with him would soon come to an end?

“Am I making you feel good? Yeah?” You decided to nod at him truthfully, your moans short, resembling small hiccups. You were lost in the pleasure, you could feel the end approaching. He put his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “W—wow, you—you sound so adorable, I won’t last long—” He moaned and grabbed your face in his hands, kissing your nose first, then softly your lips.

“Yes, yeah, let go. Let go my little star. My starlight, my treasure.” He whispered into your ear, feeling you clench down on him as you came with his name on your lips. You felt him reaching the end quickly after you, he shuddered, his mouth opened, and he released into the condom with a low moan. Still cumming, he took your face into his hands and kissed your forehead gently. When you both were still coming down from the high, breathing heavily, he began stroking your hair, pushing it out of your face, and kissing your cheeks.

What in the world was all that?

God, you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t let this keep up, it felt too real, too romantic, and your heart really couldn’t take it. Not when every time you were together like this you keep thinking that he would like you to be someone else instead. Did he imagined her under him this time? You trembled, scared because of that thought, but the things he was saying made you feel that it really could be the case.

Your breath came out shakily and you took his muscular forearms in your palms and grazed them gently with your thumbs. You let yourself feel for the last time how warm his body was, how pleasurable his weight on top of you. You kept your eyes closed to not let him see your tears, but you couldn’t stop one from going down your cheek.

And of course he saw it as soon as it appeared. He seemed to always look at you when you wanted him to ignore you the most.

He kissed it off, swiped the wetness with his thumb and proceeded to kiss your temple.

“Why are you crying?” He asked softly, his eyebrows furrowed. “Did I hurt you?” He appeared so concerned, and you felt the shivers going down your spine.

Yes, you wanted to scream.

“No, of course not.” You said instead. Because it was your fault for feeling too much. “I’m okay, just tired.” You lied straight to his face. He send you a small smile and kissed your closed eyelids gently.

And when he shifted and pulled out from you slowly with a little hiss, you let out a sigh and knew that your time with him had to end now.

But before you could lift yourself up, he hugged you from the side and put his head on your chest. He was listening to the sound of your heartbeat, and you already knew that it had a soothing effect on him. His hand started caressing one side of your waist, his hair touching your chin, his scent overlapping you. You could feel his heartbeat on you, fast but steady. Another tear escaped from your eyes. You had to run away. You couldn’t take the closeness anymore. It was too painful.

“Xavier, I—” You swallowed the sob forming in your throat. Your voice came out rusty. “I really need to go.”

“Already? Stay with me for a little while longer.” He squeezed you harder to himself, showing no intention of releasing you from his hold. You hated that you needed to cut short such a vulnerable moment with him. “The night is still young. I thought we could maybe watch something together? Or bake these cinnamon cookies you like? I practiced, they taste and look almost perfect now.” You closed your eyes hard, moved by his thoughtfulness, and you almost sobbed audibly if it wasn’t for your hand quickly covering your mouth.

But he felt it, and it made all the muscles in his body tighten, as if he was struck.

“Star?” He loosed his hold on you and quickly studied your face. “What’s wrong?” His eyes became huge, filled with worry. And that concern on his features was what finally made you run.

You raised gently and pushed yourself from him, starting to pick up your scattered pieces of clothing. Your hands shakily put the panties and your sweater on your trembling body, not once looking Xavier’s way. He was waiting patiently for your answer.

“I can’t do this anymore, Xavier.” You replied, feeling more comfortable now that you had some clothes on. You couldn’t meet his eyes, but you heard him standing up from the bed.

“Do what?” He sounded puzzled. You heard him grabbing and putting on some pants hastily, clicking his belt in place. As if he was preparing to run after you. “Did I do something wrong? You didn’t like it today? Was I too intense?” You had never heard him speak so quickly, and the panic in his tone was a rare occurrence too.

“No, it’s— I am at fault here.” You answered truthfully, and you took a couple steps away from him. You wanted to run as fast as you could but for the love of God, you couldn’t locate any other pieces of your clothing. Your eyesight was clouded by unleashed tears. No, not now, you couldn’t let them fall until you were in the safety of your home.

“But you were perfect.” His voice carried more panic by the second. “We could change some things. You could tell me what to do differently, everything works with me as long as I do it with you.”

You suddenly remembered the beginning of your night, and rushed to his living room, were you finally found your pants.

“No. No, and please stop trying to persuade me. This—this friends with benefits thing, it ends now.” You uttered surely, now fully clothed. You turned around and finally laid your eyes on him, and saw him wearing only black jeans and a miserable expression on his face. God, he still looked perfect. He almost shined, the workout clearly visible on his face, his hair, his lips. Your resolution almost wavered.

“Okay. Okay, of course, I—I understand.” He answered quickly, and you felt a slight pang in your chest at how easily he took the news. This whole time you were so easily disposable. “But please stay. I want to spend some time with you, I haven’t seen you in such a long time.” He took a careful step towards you, and you wanted to bolt then and there. “Please, stay.”

“No, Xai, I—” You paused to take a breath, trying not to crumble in front of him. His worried expression felt like a knife to your chest. You were his best friend, yet here you were, clearly wanting to run away from him—how could you expect him to feel anything but hurt upon such a sight? You felt incredibly cruel. “I really can’t. I think I need a break from all—all of this.”

“You mean from me?” He didn’t wait for your answer, the thoughts in his head seemed to go quicker than lightning. “No, please, I swear that if you don’t like it then I won’t touch you anymore. I swear.” You hated how upset he sounded. You closed your eyes for a second and fresh tears slipped away. You couldn’t keep them from falling anymore. “You know how much you mean to me. Don’t make me stay away.” He looked as if you were tearing his heart out, his posture slumped, hands shaking. How you wished you could take them into your own and warm them up.

“I have to.” Your voice came out whiny. He stepped closer to you, keeping his arms in front of himself.

“But why?” His question was quiet, nearly a whisper. He couldn’t help but wonder, if you really wanted a break from him, then why were you crying as if you didn’t want to go?

“I—” You stopped yourself before going as far as to utter a confession. He couldn’t know. Not now. Not ever. “This— This situation, and how our friendship looks like right now it’s—it’s so wrong.” You opted for a response that was the closest to the truth.

“It’s not.” He replied immediately. “Not for me.”

“Well it is for me. Friends don’t sleep with each other, Xavier! We messed up so bad this time and I’m afraid we can’t let this past us.”

“Do you regret it that much?” His voice was losing its’ strength, and he seemed so utterly hurt. Meanwhile, you were just trying to protect yourself from feeling even more pain. How could you make him understand without confessing to him? You didn’t really know because you were always honest with him before. He was your safe place.

And to think that everything could be avoided, your friendship left unscratched if only you could control your feelings better. But you had no idea how to stop loving him so deeply, when he was everything that you’ve ever dreamed of.

“I should. I know that I should, it was never going to end well, I—”

“Stay. Please, starlight, stay. At least for one more night, let me hold you just for one more—” His arms went out to grab you and you flinched, taking a few steps back. His jaw tightened.

He was always afraid that he will see you run away from his touch. He felt as if his nightmare became reality - the thought of loosing you too much for him to bear.

“Xavier, I can’t!” You trembled all over. Why did he make this so hard for you? “I can’t do this with you anymore, can’t you understand how much it hurts me?” The truth was at the tip of your tongue, craving to be spoken out loud.

“Why? Why does it hurt you? The only one who has a good reason to be hurt is me, you avoided me, ignored me, and for what? If you just talked to me honestly one time—”

“You are in love with someone else!”

The silence that followed was unbearable and seemed to last ages. Slow ticking of the clock was the only thing cutting through the tension, reminding you that the time didn’t stop, even if your heart seemed to do so.

You turned to him, the tears falling from your eyes in cascades now and your chest was coming up and down rapidly with how fast you were breathing.

The tears run down your cheeks quickly, making your vision less blurry. How you wished that they stayed in place, if that meant that you wouldn’t have to see Xavier’s pained expression, that quickly changed into one of utter confusion. You were shaking with how much you were feeling, your frustration pooling out of you in a form of shaking hands and bitten lips.

“I can’t continue being like this with you when I know that you’re in love with her! And I get it! I really do. She’s so wonderful, and so, so lovable. And I could never be her, no matter how much you would want me to be. I just don’t want to be a replacement anymore.” You continued, the desperation in your voice almost making you wince. You sounded pathetic and felt so embarrassed for it. You felt as if you were loosing the ground beneath your feet.

“What?” He said completely stunned. He wasn’t moving a single muscle. “What on earth are you talking about?” He hissed, and took a step towards you, and when you shook your head and wanted to bolt through the door, he quickly grabbed you by your wrist and pressed your body close to his. You gasped at the contact, so sudden and forced. “No, stop running away from me!” He raised his voice, still holding your wrist tightly. You’ve never heard him sound so irritated. “Speak.” You kept your head low, when he was desperately trying to catch eye contact, but you couldn’t look at him right now. Not when your true feelings were basically flowing to the surface.

“About what? You really thought I didn’t know about your feelings for her?” You struggled to keep your voice from shaking. “Xavier, I know, and I knew from the very beginning, and you really don’t have to explain yourself to me. I really understand.” You tried to free your wrist from his grasp, but he held it too tightly. You needed to run, this conversation wasn’t supposed to happen, you didn’t even have a reason to be mad at him. You couldn’t blame him for not loving you romantically, nor for feeling this way towards someone else. You were only friends, and friends should be happy for each other when they find someone dear to them, not sick of the idea of loosing the other to someone else.

“I’m afraid you actually don’t understand anything.” He sounded almost defeated. His voice back to it’s soft tone, but his hold on you unrelenting.

“It’s really okay, I—”

“No.” He scoffed. You finally gained enough courage to let your eyes meet his and you were instantly appalled at how furious he appeared to be. “It’s truly NOT.” He released your wrist and put his hands up to stroke his hair back. He breathed out loudly. “Who the fuck are you talking about?” He asked, confusion and irritation taking over his features completely. You never saw him wear that expression while talking with you.

“Oh, don’t make me—” You cut off, seeing his furious glare. You took a deep breath, stepped back from him and touched your cheek, trying to swipe the wetness caused by your tears. You failed, they were still coming down, one by one, making your efforts futile. “MC. You know that I mean MC.”

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” He groaned and let his head fall back. He covered his face with his hands for a second, and when he looked at you again, you couldn’t read his expression correctly. “Who told you about it? Where did you get it from?”

“Jeremiah.” That’s all he needed to know. And apparently it was enough for him to grasp the situation. He laughed humorlessly and shook his head, his hands squeezed tightly into fists by his sides.

“I will strangle him this time. I swear, I will—”

“Oh, please, Xavier, stop! What’s so wrong about me knowing? I was glad that someone finally enlightened me!” You couldn’t believe that he was so angry at you for knowing such an important thing. Not when from the moment Jeremiah said that he had a thing for MC for a long time, you wondered why he kept that a secret from you. “You never even said a word about it even though I thought we were best friends. I had to learn from someone else and that already hurt.” You wanted this conversation to be over. You wanted him to admit to it already and let you go away, with a broken, but at least free heart.

But he had different plans.

“Have you maybe thought that I never said a word about it simply because it wasn’t true?” He asked carefully, his voice still angry. “I just can’t believe you thought that I loved someone else—”

“What?” Your mind went blank. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts. “What do you mean it’s not true?” You sniffed quietly, confusion taking over your face.“B-But Jeremiah said that you had a past with her and—”

“I did. I had feelings for her once, but that was literal lifetimes ago!” His irritation didn’t ease in the slightest. “I had feelings for someone who looked similar to her. But she’s not the same person anymore, and even if she was I couldn’t possibly fall in love with her. Not now, not ever.” You stopped in your tracks, trying to analyze everything he was saying to you and failing miserably at it. You looked at his face, your expression puzzled, searching for an answer there, hidden between his beautiful, soft features. It shocked you to see that now he started to calm himself down, gaze genuine, an image of complete transparency.

You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea that you were mistaken. All this time, when you thought you never stood a chance, when you thought that he loved another, when you wanted to let him go—

“You’re not in love with MC.” It wasn’t a question anymore, your voice quiet while you were trying to process that thought. He must’ve seen how you fought with the thoughts inside your head, because he released a groan and took a step towards you. You unintentionally took one step back. He frowned.

“Of course I’m not.” Voice sweet like honey, stance sure, his eyes searched desperately for yours. He looked at your face, covered in tears and his eyebrows furrowed deeper, hating how upset you seemed and didn’t know how to reverse it. “How could I ever be, when your face is all I can see, every time I close my eyes?” He uttered looking at you with such devotion that it almost made your knees buckle.

Complete silence took over your thoughts after his confession. You didn’t know what was happening.

But fortunately, his mind finally started to piece everything together in a picture, that although was beyond frustrating to think about, was giving him so much hope for something he thought he already lost.

He allowed himself to relax, took a deep breath and finally decided to drop his inner shackles, letting his emotions flow out of him without restraint.

“You are the one that I love.” He said clearly, not moving a muscle. He wondered if you could see the quick movement of his chest, with how hard his heart was trying to escape through it to reach you. Whereas, you felt as if yours stopped moving completely, along with the time around you, not ready to believe that this was truly happening. “It was you from the very beginning. I adored you since the day I first saw you.” He continued, his gaze piercing into your face, slight confusion visible on his features. “And I thought that was obvious? I wasn’t exactly the best at hiding my feelings, especially after I told you about them the first night we spend together.”

You blinked slowly. Once, then twice.

Your head hurt. You couldn’t wrap it around everything he was saying. Xavier was in love with you? And he already told you about it? You were so confused that the only way you knew how to react was with denial.

“You—You didn’t. I didn’t know, you are not being serious.” He shook his head in disbelief.

“I did. You really don’t remember?” His tone softened, and he waited a short second for your answer, but couldn’t contain his nerves. “It was the night I kissed you for the first time, thinking that would be the last. But you reciprocated.” His eyes gleamed in the moonlight, and you found yourself holding your breath, afraid even the slightest sound might interrupt the flow of his confession.

“You—You kissed me back, and let me do things to you I only ever dared to dream about before.” He took another step your way, a small smile grazing his handsome face. “And the confession slipped out of me so naturally before we even reached the bed.” He briefly recalled that fateful night, describing the conversations you forgot, but longed to remember since that very moment.

“You didn’t reply, but you responded nicely to my touch, so I thought that meant that you wanted me too, that maybe you’d accept me. As your beloved. Your soulmate.” You brought your hand to cover your mouth. You couldn’t believe it. “But then in the morning when you woke up, you were panicking. I tried to reassure you, but you weren’t listening to me.”

That part of the story you knew by heart, him telling you that he couldn’t forget, didn’t want to forget. Back then you didn’t connect it with anything close to confession, but more with the change in your relationship. You really didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, you didn’t even dream about him loving you, when you though that he loved MC. Insecurities and false assumptions completely clouded your vision.

“And when you proposed staying friends, with the bonus of intimacy, of course I took the chance. I thought you remembered my confession and didn’t reciprocate my feelings, but I was so desperate that I would take anything you were willing to give me, even if it didn’t involve your love. I—” he cut off, blush flushed over his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears. He took a shaky breath. “I was clinging to the hope that maybe through the new shared intimacy I could show you how much you meant to me. And maybe, maybe someday you would start feeling the same, when you realized how good we are together and how good I can be for you.”

“Xavier—Oh my god.” You breathed, your hand still covering your mouth, your eyes never leaving his face. His beautiful, starstruck face, now so full of confusion and unspoken hurt. “Bunny, I’m so, so, so sorry. I had no idea, I—” Your voice practically a whisper, you were still coming to terms with the fact that your feelings were reciprocated. And that you were the one who complicated things between you. “I don’t remember anything you said to me that night. I couldn’t even hear you through the sound of my own blood thrumming in my ears, that’s how drunk I felt. How overwhelmed after our first kiss.”

The alcohol consumed that night also wasn’t of big help. You were a lightweight and you drunk only occasionally, so the few drinks you had already made you feel dizzy. Mixed with the intensity of your emotions, it overwhelmed you so intensely that his touch was all you could remember from that night. But now you could make it all alright.

“I only remember your touch, the things we did, and our conversation the next morning. I remember touching your hand and initiating the kiss, and my tipsy brain just thought that you went with it to forget about MC.” You said truthfully, letting it all pour out of you. Your cheeks burned with the embarrassment of admitting how desperate you were for him, that the thought he loved another didn’t stop you from having sex with him.

Then the blush deepened from the realization that from the very beginning the only one he was thinking about was you.

This thought made your head spin, the happiness slowly bubbling in your chest. Your whole body trembled.

“That’s— Fuck. You really don’t remember.” He shook his head again, realizing how deep the misunderstanding reached. “You didn’t initiate anything. I was the one who kissed you first.”

“No, I—”

“Yes. You touched my hand, smiled at me contentedly and said some things and I—I just couldn’t restrain myself any longer.” This time you were the one who started approaching him slowly. You needed him close. Always. And you realized that now you didn’t have any reasons to deny yourself that lack of distance. “You looked so soft, so open and kissable, and I just went for it. And then you reciprocated.” The light in his eyes started sparkling when he noticed that you were finally coming closer to him. He reached out his hand for you and you took it gently, still shaking from the unspoken emotions.

“I can’t believe it. All this time I thought that you were in love with someone else.” His hand was warm, the touch electrifying. You squeezed his hand and intertwined your fingers together. You saw how between your clasped hands, his Evol started shining brightly, shading soft light upon your features. It was a sign that he was excited. “I tried to put a distance between us, end this intimacy because I thought that I was just a second best for you. An easy distraction.”

“How could you think that? Almost from the moment I met you, I have loved you passionately—” He brought you even closer together, pulling you by your intertwined hands, and put his other hand on your cheek. He swiped the reminder of your tears with his fingers, looking into your eyes with a devotion so apparent that it took your ability to form coherent thoughts. How did you manage to miss the way he was always looking your way?

“X-Xavier.”

“I couldn’t even think about anyone else even if I tried to. You occupy my every thought. How could I ever find a place for somebody else in my heart when you fill the space out completely?” Everything that came out of his mouth was laced with impatience. He was trying so hard to make you understand him, and the intensity of his emotions. He couldn’t psychically hold it inside anymore, he restrained himself for so long that he felt as if all of his walls finally crumbled. He needed you to know everything.

“I love you, starlight. I’m so in love with you that I couldn’t contain that feeling inside anymore. I couldn’t even spend five minutes in your presence without trying to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you. My whole body longs for you constantly.” He said, thinking off the months after you started being friends with benefits. How at first he wasn’t sure how much he could take from you, and then, when he noticed that you didn’t mind the affection outside the bedroom, he couldn’t contain himself. He kissed you every time he had a chance, he touched you everywhere he could, he was trying to stay away from you as little as possible. Despite thinking that you did not reciprocate his feelings fully, his love for you flowed out of him naturally, every look and every touch laced with unconditional devotion.

During the period of your silence and avoiding him, he thought that it was because he finally crossed a line. He let his feelings out too much, he finally made you uncomfortable. He was starting to act as you lover, not as your friend and it wasn’t what you agreed to. He thought you still didn’t love him and maybe that was a sign that you never will. And even if that could be the case, he still couldn’t let you go.

And it appeared that he didn’t have to.

That you were not uncomfortable, but unsure.

That it was all a huge misunderstanding.

And the words that came out of your pretty, little mouth next, almost brought him to his knees.

“Xavier. Xavier me too, I—” You stuttered, completely overwhelmed by how much you were feeling. You squeezed his wrists, and looked deep into his beautiful, hopeful eyes. “I love you too. And I fell in love with you long before our first night together. I just thought that it was wishful thinking, because your heart was already taken by someone else. And that I could just stay beside you as your friend and that would be enough. And then share your bed from time to time, if that meant that I could hold you close, be on the receiving end of your affection.” You said and raised on your feet to place a quick kiss on his lips. He chased after you instantly, despite appearing stunned. You noticed his hands were shaking.

“You really mean it?” He asked, leaning towards you, kissing your lips again, this time for longer. He had trouble keeping his mouth away from yours, especially now, that he knew that every one of your kisses was filled with love. “Am I not dreaming this time?” You smiled and stroked his hair affectionately, petting his head, wanting to convey your feelings in every way possible.

“Xavier, I love you.” You repeated, grabbing his head in your palms and looking deep into his eyes. Your voice was strong, leaving no room for uncertainty. “I love you so mu—” He didn’t let you finish that sentence, because he quickly picked you up and spun you around, holding you in his arms. You giggled and put your arms around his neck, holding him tightly, his face buried in your neck. When he stopped, he quickly found your lips again and that kiss felt groundbreaking.

He held you close to him, one hand squeezing you by your waist, and the other holding your jaw gently. His brows furrowed in desperation and his kisses were slow, sensual, sending pleasant shocks throughout your whole body. His tongue made an appearance, and he tasted you in a way that made your legs feel like jelly. He licked into your mouth, grunting lowly, his fingers placing a strand of your hair behind your ear, then tracing patterns on your warm cheek. When you opened your eyes for a second, you could see that the tips of his ears were red. The blush spread through his cheeks too, making him look so adorable.

“It does feel like a dream.” He breathed between kisses. “And sounds too good to be true.” He captured your lips again and you smiled into his mouth. Your heart was about to burst.

“I love you.” You repeated, basking in the feeling of finally being able to say it out loud, be open with your emotions. He released your lips and kissed your forehead. You looked up, and he placed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a wide smile adorning his face.

“Don’t stop saying that. You make me so happy.” He said quietly, and you whispered the confession once again, making him sigh shakily.

“I was so stupid. I should’ve asked you right from the start if what Jeremiah said was true.” You said and hugged him more tightly. “I should’ve told you sooner.” You placed your head on his strong chest, your ear touching his bare body, listening to his fast heartbeat. Your hands were hugging his waist, mindful not to touch his bandaged back.

“No, I foolishly thought that telling you once would suffice. I forgot that you drank that night and that could’ve clouded your memory.” He squeezed you harder to himself and started back away with you in his arms, until the back of his legs touched his couch. He feel into it, holding you close, making you sit on his lap. “To think that I could have you sooner—” He looked into your eyes, as if searching for something.

“You had me before, and you have me now. My heart, my body, my soul.” You positioned yourself more comfortably, placing your legs on both sides of his waist, and took his face into your hands. He closed his eyes at the contact, and started to caress your body, from your waist, down to your legs. He squeezed the plush of your tights and let his head fall against the couch pillows.

He couldn’t believe that this was happening. He prayed that this wasn’t a dream, that all of the things your were telling him were true. His chest vibrated pleasurably, incredible warmth spreading through it. His heart beat so quickly, and so loudly that he thought it was the first time he felt its’ beat so intensely himself. Your words made him feel drunk with emotion.

He opened his eyes to look at your face.

He almost choked with how beautiful you were. How divine, sitting on him, caressing his shoulders, smiling at him with the stars in your eyes. He looked at your lips, full and swollen, bearing the signs of his kisses. He looked at your neck, delicate and unmarked, and he stroked it with the back of his hand, wanting to change that fact immediately, knowing that now he was allowed to do that. He switched his gaze to your eyes again and drank them in, basking in their light, wishing that this moment could never end. Or maybe it should, so it could become your new beginning.

You were his treasure. His star, his light, guiding him through life, making his existence worth pursuing. You showed him that the world can be beautiful, despite it’s overbearing cruelty. You were his salvation, his safe place, his one and only, showing him every single day that he mattered, that he was not a lost cause, or a villain in disguise. You taught him that he was capable of loving so intensely and now, that he was loved as passionately in return.

He doubted his worth, but the only way he knew to prove his love for you was by protecting you with his very life. You had no idea, but his sword, now a symbol of your bond, was yours to command—and you were the only reason he continued to wield it.

“What are you thinking about?” Your voice was not more than a whisper, your eyes still looking into his starry ones, losing yourself in the deep blue. You loved them, how magnificent and expressive they were, and you swore to yourself to tell him about it every day.

He seemed to get out of the trace he was in, and his eyes softened, still taking you in. He smiled and took your hands into his, and kissed your knuckles, his kisses gentle and long-lasting.

“You.” He replied shortly, his voice gentle and reassuring. He put your hands on his shoulders, making you hug his neck with them. You complied and put your whole arms around his neck, bringing your bodies closer. One of his hands touched your waist, caressing it delicately, and the other one stroked your hair, admiring its’ softness. His eyes never left yours. “Always you, my starlight. Then, now, and till the end of my days. I will always carry you in my mind, and in my heart, to be able to reach you, no matter the distance.” You could feel his breath on your face with how close you were to each other, and he gazed at your open lips, which were already waiting to be kissed senselessly. “I love you, as I never loved anyone else in my life, and I never will again.” His lips captured yours in a kiss so soft, yet so desperate, and full of adoration, that you felt a single, happy tear escape from your eye. He deepened the kiss and held you throughout the night, kissing you and touching you, never wanting the moment to end, the warmth of your skin to become a memory.

It all started with the simplest of touches, and it never truly ended. The spark you ignited that first night has never faded. Since the moment you met, it has burned brightly between you both, a light so powerful that it could be seen across the vastness of deep space. Everlasting and exquisite, just like the different lifetimes you both had ahead of you, always finding each other, as if guided by it’s warmth.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

thank you for your time and please let me know if you liked it!! i was thinking of writing more for this au, maybe from xavier’s perspective? how they met and how he fell in love + how their first night really played out ♡

[screampied]

Sorry this is super specific but angry mean and sloppy hate sex w the jjk boys (specifically nanami) is all I've been thinking about 🥹🥹🥹

໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ SCREAM, NO BOLOGNA ! ’﹒⺡

sukuna, toji, gojo, nanami, geto

જ warnings. fem! reader, hate séx, implied multiple órgasms, praise, dirty talk, facefucking, hair pulling, choking, overstim, squìrting, implied breeding, daddy kink, the bed kinda… breaks, mdni.

𖬺 — NANAMI KENTO.

“now now sweetheart,” he’d coo. his voice had such a sugary rasp as he spoke. you moan, feeling him casually bend you over with just one hand. you felt him softly caress the soft edges of your ass, lovingly stroking a thumb against your sheer skin before bringing his leaky tip towards your soaked folds. “was that little fit you threw earlier in the mall necessary? told you to wait until we got home.”

“don’t…care,” you huff out with furrowed eyebrows. your breath wafts against the soft material of the cushioned pillow as you pout. nanami raises a brow, making you arch just a little before your lips part. “i was bored all day. just f-fuck me, kento. s-stop bein' all nice ‘n just be rough with me.”

“my oh my, what a filthy mouth you have,” he clicks his tongue, and nanami purposely leans up close to you. you mewled once he grabs a fistful of your hair. he has a good grip before giving it a slight yank. you let off a whimper once the head of his cock skims past your entrance. not once but twice. his words were so rich, coated with pure tease before he lays his weight right up against you. “rough she says,” he whispers, and he brings his free hand to grip your waist. nanami was so precise and slow with his hand movements. you let off a gasp the minute he starts to ease his way inside. “if you wanted me to treat you like this, you didn’t have to be such a—”

he gets cut off by creating a single sloppy thrust against you and you sob out a whimper from how thick he was. a few good inches and you then started to feel yourself stretch. “…brat,” he concludes, and you even hear nanami’s voice get a tad bit lower. his tie tickles against your spine as he starts to move and your eyes didn’t hesitate to quickly rolllll into the very depths of your skull.

nanami didn’t mind being rough, especially if you asked nicely. whenever he was though, his thrusts were just godly. so good…

your maw dangles open as he’s just whacking you in all the right spots, all the right places.

he still had his work clothes on too—you couldn’t wait, you needed him now. his girth stretched you out in every way imaginable, you dumbly jerk against the bed before letting off a cute squeal. “k-kento, harder. choke me. harder pleaseee.”

nanami kisses his teeth, cocking his head to the side as he intakes a sharp concise breath.

“you’re somethin' else, you know that?” and you feel the warmth of his fingers wrap around your neck. his fingers, so thick. you hit back and forth against him—your pussy just squeaking a high pitch tune out in harmony. “rougher baby?” he huffs out, and you moan once he caresses the middle part of your neck. “you—you like bein' arched over like this for your husband?”

“y-yes,” you’d whine out, feeling his gentle touch graze against the fat of your ass. he loved caressing every inch of your body, so gentle. the tips of nanami’s thumbs gingerly press into the sides of your hips before he delivers a mean two second stroke. you gasp, wanting more, more of him being so spry and vigorous with his hips. “fuck me h-hard, ‘ken.”

nanami grows quiet, watching how your torso cutely gets propped up against him.

you were just aching . . . soaked for more of his thick inches plugging inside of your sweetened cunt. he loved the view. such a pretty wife being all arched for him, taking round after round. he wanted nothing more than to just lean right up to you and run a hand down your spine.

he adored getting under your skin, making you all shy and timid. once nanami starts to get ruthless, you’re making all types of noises, such noises reverberate across the entire room — ricochet after ricochet, just bouncing off the walls.

“jus’ like that, kento,” you’d whimper out, and the feeling of his thick cock delving all inside of your walls had you so wet—you were drooling all against the bed sheets. he hit it just right, nanami’s breath became rough and raspy. you wanted him to be a bit rough, so he was more than happy to oblige. you squeezed down against him and he groans, watching your chest slam and jolt against the beat cushiony mattress.

“g-goddamnn,” he throws his head back in pure ecstasy. you had him going feral, he was enticed with how good you made him feel. vice versa, you swallowed him whole. your cunt was just sputtering out sweet noises that made his ears practically pop. he liked seeing you like this, drooling for more cock. strands of saliva seep from the corners of your mouth solely based on how deep he reached inside of you. “sweetheart, you’re gonna—make a mess out of me.”

his voice was so low, it was sweet. how he spoke so rich and smoothly yet his thrusts against your aroused core was the entire opposite. you moaned, momentarily after a while you started to feel a sudden tension build up. a rush of waves went through you, and you whined once his tip kept smacking against your precious g-spot.

again, and again, and again, constant loop. your walls had him in a tight chokehold—quite literally, you were gripping around him like a vice before you squealed out a, “k-kento, o-oh my godddd. i feel, ‘m gonna— right there.”

he chuckles, deepening his hits against you. your cute words were suddenly broken, you couldn’t fully speak a sentence without choking up. he had you throbbing, slick running down your thighs with your jaw cutely open. he was so hefty. his base just rams right into you, it had you dizzy, toes curling and eyes just crossed. your ankle shook before you gasped at the abrupt feeling of you finally reaching your peak. “fuckkk kento,” you’d sob, and you only then realized you’d just squirt all over his cock.

“oooooh,” nanami hums, and he slows down just briefly. he ends up finishing around the same time as you, painting on your your spine with a gorgeous canvas of his own seed. it shot out in thin ropes on your back, you felt so warm and yet empty once he pulled out. nanami had such mahogany eyes full of love, running a hand down your waist once more before having a shy abrupt expression. “did . . my wife just squirt on me?”

a question, a simple question you couldn’t answer but he already knew. he smiles, soft chocolatey irises lingering towards your sopping wet pussy. he brings a hand towards it, giving it a sweet pat.

“mm. appears she did,” he answers for you, and he couldn’t be rough and mean to you for that long. he loved you too much, especially your body. nanami groans, feeling you wriggle your hips up against him, a sign that you wanted him to keep going. nanami’s lips tug up into a smile before he flips you over, slowly prying your legs open before humming. “can you do that again, my love? show me how much of a messy wife you can be.”

𖬺 — SUGURU GETO.

“woah. easyyyy now angel,” geto smirks, and he’d be laid back against the soft cushion of the driver’s seat.

he had you propped up right on his lap. it was tranquil, the two of you being surrounded by a secluded spot with a few streetlights making the scenery a bit more bright. your bottom lip quivered, hovering over his angry tip before swallowing thickly. “hm. i know you’re my ex ‘n all, but with a look like that i’d say you’re still in love with me.”

“just— shut up,” you’d grumble. he chuckles, bringing two rough hands towards the sides of your waist. he loved more than anything to touch you, to run and strum his svelte lengthy fingers all against your skin. it had you weak, he had you weak. geto and you were on and off, sure. but the pent up annoyed intimacy was always amazing. toe curling even, you try to hold back a moan the moment his cock starts to kiss against your folds, his tip gradually going inside. “fuck you.”

geto leers at you before a sly smirk compresses against his pink lips. “…girl, bye,” and his sassiness catches you off guard. with an eye roll, he moves you closer towards his chest—reaching against the left side of the seat to make it recline back. “all this talk for someone who still struggles to take me, even with prep. get serious.”

you glare, not knowing how to reply and he snickers at how quick he made you shut up. your glare turned into a cute eye-widening expression, because that’s when you start to feel his cock massage your inner walls.

“s-shit,” you’d gasp, unhurriedly feeling him sink inside. geto was always so thick, a perfect fit for you. that grip you always gave him. he loved it more than anything.

he still also loved you more than anything, but no one had to know that. “s-so fuckin’ big, suguru.”

“gotta be to stretch my favorite pussy,” he breathes, feeling you start to rock your hips—you moan at how quick he reached you so deep. geto had an upward curve, never failing to locate your most secretive and tender spots with his plump tip. he massaged your gummy walls so good it had your thighs already spasming. it was embarrassing, he had you wrapped around his finger.

you hated it, you hated him, is what you kept telling yourself. alas, you hated him enough to ride him into complete oblivion. “mhm. tug on my hair a bit, angel. always love when ya do that.”

you moue at him, forgetting how much of a slut he was. perhaps an even bigger one than you. you grab onto his silky healthy hair, giving it a nice tug before he slips off a moan. “heh. aw, does me moaning for you turn you on? felt you squeeze all against me jus’ now.”

“s-shut uppp,” you’d huff out, your voice starting to become a bit nervy. geto’s fingers trail against your waist before you start to grind against him. as his seat was reclined—he had such a pretty view of your face.

whilst you’re wrenching and jerking strenuously against him. his dick expands all inside you, his sheer girth, his cockhead that was dragging all through your folds. the more you moved, the more you coated his entire lower shaft with your glistening slick.

you made sure to use your hips in such a sensual motion, rotating them before swerving back and forth. geto grows quiet, your cute moans being the only sounds in the car — replacing the vehicle’s deafening silence with your sweet murmurs.

“still mad at me?” he suddenly whispers, your rhythmic movements driving him to the first street of plain insanity. you always knew how to ride him just right, hands of yours roamed all down his abs that poked through his white tee. “i can see right through that pretty bratty expression. you just wanted to fuck me. admit it.”

“stop—talking,” you’d grouse cutely, narrowing your eyebrows at him. you knew he was right though. geto groans, feeling you start to bounce on his lap . . the lap you were happily straddling. your eyes ran down his perfectly structured body, he wore a simple leather jacket with a white tank top underneath. a pretty figure, his abs were clenched and tightened all because of you. you moan, feeling his dick brush and swipe against your g-spot. it didn’t even take that long. geto’s taken by surprise the minute your fingers wrap around his neck, giving him a tight squeeze.

“well shit,” he gruffs out, giving the right part of your hips a squeeze. slender fingers of his go towards your ass before smacking it. you moaned, and geto hums. “got the audacity to choke me? kinky girl,” and as his pitch grew low and husky, you felt your pussy throb. it was pathetic—just a few words from geto’s mouth and it’s already enough to have you drenched. “if you’re gonna choke me, at least do it harder. i like it rough in case you don’t know, girl.”

he was such a brat, and you thought you were the problem. you didn’t even know if that was possible—you glare at him though, giving his neck a slight squeeze and he moans. “now fuckin’ ride me. and stare at me the whole time too,” and he then grabs you by the neck this time, pulling you into a deep sloppy kiss. it was a mixture of many feelings. a low groan gets caught in his mouth as he feels your hips gradually speed up. geto’s tongue runs against yours, and he can’t keep his hands off you — off your ass. “fuck me. fuck me, f-fuckkk,” and his last words were a bit slurred. you were taking him fully, grinding your hips to where he even starts to stutter.

geto’s ego gets ahead of him, so much so to where he ends up cumming early. it shot out so much that he’s taken aback. dark hooded eyes staring into your soul practically. geto’s out of breath, losing track of time as your spongey walls soaked him for all that he was worth.

“and you call me the brat,” you’d pant, leaning in to press a slovenly wet kiss against his jaw. you paused your hips, letting off a soft moan once you felt him overflow your cunt with a dump of his cum. geto’s the one glaring at you now, and then he stares at you once you kiss near his neck. “still finishing early like always.”

“hmph,” he pouts, not wanting to face reality that you’d have the one up on him. geto was so cute and pouty, beads of sweat racing down the sides of his forehead before he mumbles a pouty, “i’ll take you outside this car ‘n fuck you on the hood, don’t play with me.”

“do it.”

“my girl,” he slyly says.

𖬺 — SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

“foolish woman. the nerve is beyond me,” sukuna growls.

his nostrils flair up, witnessing as you’re happily on your knees for him. not even the slightest bit scared. albeit, you were a bit irked that he pulled out his shaft only to make you—in his own words, ‘clean up your own mess.’ he’d snicker, watching your pout turn into a cute scowl before leaning in to bring a kiss towards the top part of his dick. “oh good. ya know exactly what to do. thought i was gonna have to lecture you.”

as your knees bury themselves into the ground, you take a brief look at the cursed shaft right in front of you.

you stared in awe for a moment, so lengthy. such a pretty swollen mushroom tip, just glistening with droplets of his seed that was just inside you nearly a moment ago. “shut up,” you’d loll out your tongue, tasting the bitterness that resided against his frenulum. “mhm.”

sukuna grunts, the vibrations you purposely made to make him feel bundles of nerves stir up inside. he grips onto the crown of your head before a side of his pearly white canines show.

“watch that mouth ‘n tend to your meal,” and his voice was raspy, a tad bit shaky. you could hear it in his voice how sensitive he still was. his recent release took quite a lot out of him—that much was a no brainer. sukuna had a near curve to him, length decorated with markings all over his skin.

you ran your tongue in each particular spot, staring at him the entire time before giggling. “teasin' whore. stop wastin' time ‘n get it wetter for me. spit.”

with a glare, you part your lips, spitting right on his tip before leisurely taking him into your mouth. again. he was just so thick, sweet girth included. “cute little pout ya got goin' on. what’s the matter? don’t like being told what to—do?”

you abruptly gag, feeling his tip prod against the very back of your throat. sukuna sneers, watching how much of a messy girl you already were for him. so sloppy, strands of spit were already starting to run down your chin and decorate your chest. you kept him so warm inside your mouth, swirling that pretty tongue of yours against the plump front part of his dick. that spot, it made him nearly give your hair a mean rough yank.

“s-shit,” he’d roughly breathe out, and once sukuna starts thrusting his hips into your mouth. you hold onto his clenched thighs, making an attempt to relax your jaw. you felt a vein that ran alongside his fat cock twitch alongside your tongue. he groans once he sees your eyes flutter. “this the only way to get you to s…stop talking back to me, princess? fuck your sloppy mouth until you’re drooling all over me, huh?”

being bratty, you give him a nod and he glares. his glowering gaze quickly turned to a caught off guard look and your tongue’s so playful, skimming all against his tip—sloppily having all kinds of strands of spit run down the crevices of your lips.

“my nasty girl,” he huffs, rolling his bright eyes at how easy you made him get so close again. his thighs started to ache, and he’s still got a firm grip on the crown of your head. “nasty. nasty. nasty,” he enunciates between each vigorous thrust into your mouth. he liked hearing your noises, gulp after gulp. cute lashes fluttering and all.

your spit paid a huge role, contributing to making him all slick — so filthy.

a glistening cobweb of your own lewd saliva trickled off your lips. sukuna grabs your chin, smearing it all over your lips before his own bottom lip quivers. he had a pout. sukuna ryomen was pouting all because of you. he wanted to kiss that bratty mouth, it irked him. you were so pretty, having your tight throat be stuffed like this.

“fuckkk,” he growls, feeling his thighs start to tremble. you always knew right when he was about to finish. his breathing with get irregular and his voice would be super deep and husky. thrusts against your face began incredibly sloppy while your lip gloss smeared all over your lips, ruined. “relax that fuckin’ jaw for me. gonna paint that throat white just how ya like it.”

not even long before he says that, sukuna ends up finishing again. you don’t even realize how soaked you were between your legs, cramped up fingers playing with yourself while your mouth was being salaciously occupied. a nice load coated the tip of your tongue—he pumps a good amount into your mouth, sweet sweet ropes of cursed cum.

“don’t fuckin’ swallow yet,” and you blink twice. sukuna pulls his throbbing now flaccid dick out of your mouth before getting down to your knee-level. “give me that kiss you owe me, brat,” and with a tug on your chin with one hand, you moaned, feeling sukuna sneak a rough yet somewhat passionate kiss.

he tastes the entire mess on your lips, not even being fazed before he pulls you away with a cute scowl. “did you enjoy the meal?” and he squeezes your spit-glossed lips together. you nod with cute puffed up cheeks before swallowing and he narrows his eyebrows, stroking your chin. “tch. good. because now i gotta clean you up. touchin’ yourself without asking me. bend the fuck over and face the other way. yeah.”

𖬺 — TOJI FUSHIGURO.

“soooo much back talk for a slutty arch like this,” toji grumbles. you steadily shudder, feeling him run fingers down the soft skin of your spine—you moan sweetly, gnawing on the bottom of your lip. “you claim you 'hate' me ‘n ya still get this pussy all soaked f'me without me havin' to say anything, baby?” as you spoke, you arched your back, slowly…

oh, you hated it, no…loath was probably a far more better word.

you loathed how easy it was. no matter what, toji had always found himself back in your bed—or vice versa, you in his. safe to say, he couldn’t get enough of you.

perhaps he had a bit of attachment towards you, or maybe the main thing was that he was infatuated with your sweet sopping wet pussy. “fuck you toji,” you huff out, feeling big rough hands grab your ass. he’s playing with the fabric of the string that ran down, taking in your curves before springing his weighty length out.

just feeling his fat cockhead. leaky and all…

casually smearing against your slick entrance, you felt yourself salivating shamelessly, puff after puff, the pants that departed from your lips were never ending.

“fuck you toji,” he mocks your tone, his raspy rough tone trying to pitch to yours—simply humiliating. “dumb words for a dumb little girl,” he snickers, and you gasp once he makes you scoot your ass up towards him. while your chest welts against the bed, you let off a whine once he gently starts to make his way in.

you took toji numerous times, a plethora of times, but it was as if every time was the first. toji was so thick, regardless of if he was barely in yet or fully, you always felt all of him—effortlessly expanding throughout your spongey walls like it was equivalent to an elastic band.

he was so mean and it always turned you on. the way he was the only one to memorize all your sensitive spots. he knew every inch of your body, the specific precise angle to hit with his dick to tear out those cute shrilling orgasmic whimpers from you. “just f-fuck me then. always take fuckin’ forever.”

“i’ll take as long as i want ‘n you’ll still get wet for me, whore,” he coos, burying his massive cock right into you. you couldn’t see him, but you could probably guess he was throwing his head back right about now. he loved that feeling, the salaciously delectable grip your pussy had on him, happily taking him in like it’s missed him — it did, and maybe you even missed him too. when toji’s mean, he’s fucking mean. he fucks mean, and his dialogue is always even meaner. “now be a good girl ‘n open up for me. missed my girl.”

plump lips of yours were all pretty and glossed, parted open with a little drool coming out. it was a sight. once toji’s dick figures out a sensual rhythm, you’re right back to where you started. his pace was simply mouthwatering. striking and snapping against you with such abrasiveness, you could barely keep up. toji’s stamina, it was never something to be taken light either. his hefty base taps near your ass again and again.

that makes you wet, just imagining how full he must be. “d-daddyyy,” you’d gasp out, basically being shoved right into your own mattress. your breathing was very much competitive — having an entire race with your irregular breathy pants. “f-fuck.”

“what’d you just call me, baby?” toji gruffs, and his voice was a deep low. the baritone that resided in his words had you pulsating. he cups your ass with two hands, moving it closer towards him to get a deeper and thorough angle before he sneers at your cute whimpers.

“s-said toji,” you’d whine, dragging out your words. your sweet words were all unsteady and bumpy all due to his thrusts against you. you were bouncing back and forth, mimicking his tempo.

toji sneers. “nuh uhhh,” and then he brings a hand towards the curvature part of your neck, stubby fingers stroking against your skin. “don’t lie to me. tell me what ya said originally,” and then you feel his hips pivot. toji’s dick prods against that spot, his curve brushing past your walls and you moan out. “orrrr do i gotta make this sloppy pussy tell me instead?”

you whine, feeling him bring a sharp sting to your ass. he loved giving you a spank or two, dragging out those sweet whimper from your mouth left and right. your cunt throbbed whenever his palm made contact with your ass cheek and you finally sputter out a, “daddy. called you daddy, toji.”

“yeah. you fuckin’ did girl,” he grunts, his voice was so pitched. such rude hips of his, no manners whatsoever . . snapping right into you, it was so good.

his full balls, hefty and all pressed up against your entrance, you’re in a trance. profusely drooling for him to fill you up, everywhere. leave your sweet hole dripping with nothing but his sticky cum. toji titters, seeing how you were trying to keep up with his pace. you failed miserably though.

despite that though, toji doesn’t realize how good he’s fucking you because not even moments later, he hears the wood of the headboard split. your ears twitch upon instinct, and you sort of sink further into the mattress. his bummy weight smacked right into you from behind.

“whoopsie daisy,” he shrugs, pausing for a moment. toji realizes the bed—well, your bed was now broken. with a sly grin, he makes you lean forward before pulling out to smear his leaky tip over your entrance. you whined, feeling yourself so close before he just departs. “fun time’s fuckin’ over,” and then he spanks your ass for probably the countless time, getting off of you. “mhm. my bad, doll. i’ll throw ya some cash for a new box spring the next time i see ya.”

no he won’t.

𖬺 — SATORU GOJO.

he’d come home pissed off, probably from losing a battle and he’s so annoyed. gojo isn’t used to losing, and he’d rather not talk to you about it in full detail. at least not yet.

“hey baby. was work okay?”

“princess, i need you.”

his voice was richly raspy, gojo sounded kind of needy. you stared at him, and his hair was all ruffled and tangled—a bit of his clothes had a few battling rips and spreads.

he needed you badly. his eyes roaming across your pretty physique only made things far more intense. that sundress you wore, it showed off your curves and he just only then imagined it being torn off of you. “i-i’m so annoyed, but i’ve been thinkin' about you all day…. ‘m kinda hard too.”

“come here then, baby.”

those simple four words that came from your mouth—all it took for him to go straight feral.

within seconds, he didn’t waste no time to press his hot lips onto yours.

gojo was aching, just the way your hands roamed all on his clothes made him shiver. you were the one who started to shiver next, the moment he’s got you laid flat on your back in a simple mating press.

“f—fuck,” he’d groan, and you can’t help but be so noisy. the way he’s jackhammering his thickset cock in and out of you. squelch after squelch, your legs just mindlessly sway and droop over him before you whimper. that’s when you feel gojo dip his hips even further into you. his rhythm, it had your head spinning, mind racing. it was indescribable, your pussy coated his entire length with nothing but your satiny glossy slick. “look at me,” he grumps out. you nearly throb, seeing him get all close up to your face. he’s heavily panting, heaving whilst pretty cerulean eyes stare right back at you. intently.

he was balls deep, his thrusts became extremely vulgar. soft white clouds of breath run past his lips before he grabs underneath your chin.

“damn. ‘s all her fuckin' fault,” he grouses cutely. a near pout then spreads onto his lips. you furrow an eyebrow—confused by what he meant as 'her' before with a free hand, he grabs onto your ankle. his eyes avert towards your sloppy pussy before grunting. “been thinkin’ about this pussy all day. think that’s why i lost, princess,” and his breathing was so hitched, driving such merciless thrusts into you. “got me s-so damn distracted. all ‘cause of a pussy this wet.”

“i’m the reason you lost?” you moan with a sly smile pressing against your lips. gojo’s still maintaining a grip on your chin, he then intakes a sharp breath—only then deepening his jagged thrusts against your entrance. “tell me more baby.”

he’s so careless, such vigorous thwacks going back and forth against you. it gives you whiplash. eyes nearly crosses and tasting your own sweetened saliva salivate inside of your mouth, you return his eye contact. he fucks you like he hates you—when in reality, he loves you more than an anything.

“mhm. right when i was about to get the job done, started thinkin about….about…fillin' you up,” and he swallows thickly at the thought, envisioning the entire thing in his mind. you whimper once he grabs ahold of your ankle, you’re jerking against the sofa with the stupidest expression. “stuffin' you full ‘n then plugging it back in when it spills. was so pissed when i realized i was daydreaming.”

just saying it aloud makes him palpitate. it was an ongoing race with his heart, beating quickly as he gave you such rugged hits against your entrance. your legs, oh how he loved the way they’d just jangle right beside his face. gojo found himself creating soft bike marks near your ankle, groaning out a, “you make it s-so hard to be mad at you,”and gojo’s voice cutely cracksz he can’t help but lean right into you the moment he feels in self grow full to the upmost extreme. he had so much to give you, his kisses—now they were sloppy.

as he’s plummeting solid lengthy inches in and out of your cunt that forevermore gripped him, gojo leans in to kiss you. he whines the moment you kiss back, feeling your legs lock around his slim waist, the heel of your foot skims against all of his forbidden battle scars. he was so sensitive there, he tasted sweet. enchanting.

“mine,” he groans, slowing his hips down briefly before reaching a hand down towards your tummy. his hips stutter before that’s right when he came, licking the side of your mouth before panting once he poured deep ropes of cum inside of you. “s—so pretty like this,” and his hand roams near your belly, so soft and tender. he pulls out just to stare at the pretty ring you had that coats around the base of his dick. a rich sheeny color, he licks his lips before pressing another wet kiss against your mouth. “you’d look so much prettier with a round belly. wanna give you a baby or two,” and then he moans once he feels your legs lock around his waist even tighten. “if—if you’d let me, pretty girl.”

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook can’t sleep, and he can’t stop kissing you either.

> fluff, suggestive / word count: 2.6k

> content/warnings: alexa play seven by jungkook! mentions of s^x, lots and lots of cutie kisses :( they’re in that afterglow <3 oc’s chest is his pillow :(

> in which masterlist!

note: hi hi. here’s ur slice of pure self indulgent fluff 🍰 i just had to write abt this jk :P there’s a reference to in which you always get what you want and jungkook is dying to kiss you 🥹 reblogs & feedback are vv appreciated. i’d love to hear ur thoughts so feel free to scream or laugh or cry <3

—

a fleeting white light passes through your closed eyelids, nearly blinding, as you hear the familiar shutter of your boyfriend’s polaroid camera.

“jungkook,” you whimper weakly due to the sudden disturbance, burying your face on the soft pillows while pushing the camera away.

“shit, shit- sorry, baby-” he winces, guilty of disrupting your journey to slumber, as he scrambles to fix his mistake. “forgot to turn off the flash.”

he places the polaroid face down on the space behind him to give it the time to develop the photo he had taken. much to your relief, the bedroom falls silent once more except for the quiet humming and breathing of the airconditioner. you return to properly laying your head on the pillow, taking a small gasp of oxygen, and jungkook smiles because of how adorable you are for still refusing to open your eyes.

“can i take more pictures?”

“did you turn it off?” you whisper as you stretch your legs to find a more comfortable position, unwittingly pulling down the comforter and exposing your nakedness to the cool air. this gives rise to goosebumps on your skin, causing you to shiver, but your boyfriend is quick to your rescue. he catches the hem before it could slide past your skimpy shorts.

“i did.”

a chaste kiss is planted on your shoulder before it is returned underneath the warmth of soft layers of cotton and fabric.

you sigh, melting back into relaxation. “okay.”

he re-anchors his elbow into the mattress, resting his head on his palm to admire the majestic view of you. jungkook likes this a lot, he lives for it— lying on the bed face-to-face with his sated lover, spending the rest of the night feeling like his heart is not a big enough vessel to hold all the love he has for you. the lights he is yet to turn off have splashed the dark room with a red glow that engulfs your figure as well, escalating his heartbeat, so hypnotic and tantalizing, he finds himself breathing heavier and heavier behind the viewfinder, or maybe he has stopped breathing at all. the shutter briefly fills the silence.

this is… the arch of your back is burned in his mind and he swears he still tastes you on his tongue, but seeing you like this feels so different.

he was consumed by his pleasure and yours just half an hour ago, admittedly almost blinded by his own sweat dripping from his forehead because he simply couldn’t stop wanting more of you, giving himself to you. you weren’t exactly innocent either, with your provocative touches and coquettish smiles, whispering lewd words that was gasoline to the lust flaring up inside of him. he revels in seeing that you’re just as desperate for it as he is, if not more, purely from the way you beseech him with your eyes mirroring stained glass windows. he knows you love it when he fucks you so good it brings you to tears, welcoming the delightful intensity of his nature, and that you were also trying to tire him out so he’d finally feel sleepy, but holy shit, looking at you right now, he wants nothing more but to hold you with utmost gentleness.

wildly concentrated with his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth, he brushes away the hair that fell on your face before capturing another exquisite memory to be burned into film.

jungkook is greedy when it comes to you.

a disgruntled whine slips from your mouth when the pillow underneath your head is replaced by his thick arm, which is then rudely cut off by his lips crashing on yours.

clearly, you’ve grown too comfortable in this relationship.

“i love you.” he drunkenly mutters, instantly going for another kiss and barely finishing his another- “i love you.” before he’s kissing you again.

“babe-” you chuckle then gasp, holding on to his wrist as his tattooed hand loosely wraps around your neck.

“i love you. i love you, i love y- i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you.” he repeats himself over and over, the volume of his voice gradually getting quieter as he runs out of breath, until his tongue becomes tied. grounded by the feeling of your steady pulse beneath his thumb, he silences himself by tenderly kissing you, soft lips molding with yours for a wordless declaration of devotion this time around.

pure static— there are no thoughts running in your head. your limbs feel numb but tingly. you feel like you’re floating- no, you’re falling. the bed has turned into an abyss and you’re falling endlessly and jungkook holding you close is the only thing that makes sense. you might have to consider this true heaven, nothingness with your everything, when the whole world is lights-out and quiet that it feels like time has been suspended, and the only way to keep track of it is through each pump of your heart.

at last, your eyelids slowly flutter open as he pulls away, and he greets you with that boyish grin. “pretty.”

his hand on your neck moves to stroke your face lovingly, eyes glimmering with various emotions as they wander your features.

“____ is so, so pretty.”

“hm, really?” you hum sleepily, leaning closer to his touch. “thanks to you.”

“me?” his doe eyes widen in confusion.

“you know, for the afterglow. i feel nice.” you giggle brightly at your own half-joke, positively out of your goddamn mind as you hide your warm face on his shoulder.

“ahhh- ah!”

enlightenment then dawns on your boyfriend.

his giggles blend in with yours for a harmony that strikes the same joy as the sound of wind chimes on a windy day.

jungkook tries not to appear too cocky about the compliment, but consequences be damned, he would die satisfying his lover.

“oh yeah, baby? do you now?” there’s a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face when you take a peek at him, which then morphs into a grin when your eyes meet. “i feel nice, too.”

“nice?” your voice comes out delicate, droopy eyes asking him for confirmation.

“nice.”

he feels a tug at his heartstrings.

“you know what? fucking great… i could never have enough of you.”

it becomes silent for a while. his tattooed hand slides under the comforter, letting his fingers skim across the side of your waist, feather-light touches on your bare skin before he’s pulling you closer to his body.

“i… i don’t doubt that feelings like this can only grow as time goes on but… it’s still amazing that when i think about it, even until now, all the time, i want to be with you.”

he involuntarily breathes out a shaky sigh, ears going red as they do when he’s expressing sincerity from the deepest parts of his soul.

“really, how do you do this…? what is this magic? why- why do i like you so much? i mean, i know why! of course! but, wow!” he squeezes his eyes shut to express his disbelief, clicking his head to the side. “it’s possible for it to be this much? do you get what i’m saying? i just have thoughts like that— love is so fascinating.”

you barely process his words with your brain still in a haze of bliss, but it’s funny, hearing these questions from the same man who has the entire world madly obsessed with him.

oh, this actually sounds familiar. he’s getting all sentimental and philosophical. again. and he’s not drunk. were you that good tonight?

“i won’t give away my secrets just like that. what if you use them on someone else?” you tease him, rubbing your tired eyes and shaking your head as you giggle.

you receive a dirty look from him, clearly offended and uninterested in the thought of putting in the hard effort to impress someone that isn’t you.

“aish, stop talking! i don’t like hearing you talk in that way.”

“then what else am i supposed to do? you’re the one who woke me up.” you retort in annoyance.

but you honestly don’t think there’s any secret to tell. jungkook is in love with you. plain and simple.

“you’re right, i’m sorry. go back to sleep if you want to.”

he dips down to plant gentle pecks on your shoulder, going down on a trail to your neck, and you unconsciously tilt your head to his convenience because he’s bringing the butterflies in your stomach back to life. it feels good, everything he does always feels good.

“you’re seriously not done?” you mumble against his lips, unfaltering with the kisses as if he would run out of them any minute now.

he stubbornly answers with a “no!” as his lips ghost over your cheek.

if only bam was here, jungkook would eventually leave you alone to rest. he would pester him with his late-night burst of affection instead while talking shit about you to your child because you dodged his kiss in your sleep.

“babe, you’re supposed to sleep. you have work later.”

“no, i don’t want to sleep. i… i want to kiss you- baby.” he protests as he continues to pepper your face with kisses, giving your body a particularly tight squeeze when he searches for your lips again.

you blink at him in confusion when he suddenly sends you a look of irritation, eyebrows furrowed and eyes glaring.

“you haven’t even said ‘i love you’ back yet.”

“oh, i haven’t?” you wince innocently. “sorry. i love you.”

but he should be the one apologizing to you, since it’s his fault that you still can’t think straight, or walk for that matter.

you pat around the mattress behind his back until you stumble upon the camera, and it’s jungkook’s turn to be your beloved muse. you scoot away until the lens manage to capture him down to his shirtless abdomen. you watch him in complete awe behind the viewfinder. he squints at you, raising his eyebrows flirtatiously, and he smirks when you chuckle in amusement.

“ah wait- take this! take this! you have to take a good one, got it? i worked so hard on them yesterday!” he eagerly voices out a special demand.

he shuffles to flex his arm infront of the camera, showing off his well-defined triceps and biceps while releasing rich, throaty grunts. totally unnecessary, but so achingly jungkook.

your boyfriend is outrageously, ridiculously sexy— he’s still wearing that stupid black headband he hastily put on in the middle of sex because he got pissed off at his hair and he needed it out of the way so he could ‘properly see his love’s beautiful body.’

you roll your eyes inside your head.

what a fucking tease.

nonetheless, you acquiesce.

the flash goes off.

and another polaroid is crafted into existence that you selfishly want to keep for your eyes only.

“baby, let me see.”

“it’s mine!” you scrunch your nose with a childlike charm, hiding the polaroid behind your back.

he chuckles, hopelessly endeared by you.

“yes, i’m yours.” he coos in response.

and your unguarded heart is once again swept away by the taste of his tongue. the camera becomes an abandoned item. your fingers daintily pushes off his headband in favor of freely tangling them with his silky hair, and it also ends up getting lost somewhere in the sheets as his sweet kisses lull you in a false sense of security… because out of nowhere, that same blazing light burns through your closed eyes for the second time tonight.

jungkook playfully waves the polaroid infront of your face, and his toothy grin is met by your unimpressed expression.

“this is mine!”

he has been waiting to jump into this type of opportunity, to orchestrate a romantic moment to be stolen in film— you can tell by the sparkles in his eyes. reminiscent of that one late night in a tiny photobooth where your younger and clueless selves were cramped in, this is what you and his hyungs often talk about, how much you share the same fondness for the fact that jungkook hasn’t changed at all.

“just how many pictures of you kissing me do you need?” you ask him lightheartedly.

he juts out his bottom lip sullenly, and a few beats pass before he forms an answer. “i always need more for when i miss you.”

you copy his frown. “then what about me when i’m missing you too?”

“hmmm… i want you to always remember me like this, baby.” he melodramatically declares as he picks up the one and only polaroid you’ve taken of him tonight. “can you see my abs too…? oh- it’s not showing yet.”

he looks back at you shyly with a laugh, and he places it back down to let it continue developing.

“i’ll look later. i can’t even keep my eyes open anymore. ‘m so tired.” you sadly sniffle to gain his pity, fluttering your damp eyelashes at him. “let’s go to sleep, please?”

jungkook doesn’t find it in himself to articulate a consolation or protest, not when you’re tugging him down to coax him into laying his head on your chest.

“heaven.” he moans, overcome by contentment.

he adjusts himself a bit to be more comfortable before dragging the comforter further upwards to provide warmth for the two of you, all the while refusing to remove his face nuzzled up against you.

“why are you always like this? can you even breathe?” you chuckle with your eyes closed.

“i love your boobs.” his honest reply comes out muffled, cute for some reason, along with his satisfied hums prompted by your nails lightly scratching his scalp.

“i know.”

he turns his head to the side to look up at you, and he carries on to speak with his cheek squished against you. “i really, really mean it.”

“yes, baby. i believe you.”

a minute of silence passes. the ecstasy still flooding your veins becomes a stepping stone in the pond towards your dreamland, where all is either fantastically perfect or horrifically fucked up.

but then you feel sloppy kisses being deliberately scattered in the middle of your chest, leading down to your stomach, and you get rudely knocked over into the cold, clear waters.

yes, plea- oh no, no, no, no.

“jungkook, baby, stop. i can’t go another round.” you whine pathetically, being driven closer to the urge to burst into tears.

“AH! o-ow- ouch- baby, wha- i swear, i wasn’t even planning on it!” he loudly exclaims in surprise when you harshly pull him away by his hair.

“still…” your voice cracks. “you know i’ll get turned on!”

his chuckles are infuriatingly raspy and of no help at all, ego inflating upon hearing your response and the frustration obviously laced with it.

“okay, okay! i’m sorry! i’ll behave now!”

thank god.

he assumes his previous position, the place that he deems to be the warmest and the coziest. as he wraps his arms around your waist, your fist relaxes into an open palm that cradles the back of his head.

“____?” he mumbles, finally feeling the tiredness seep into his sore muscles now that he’s lying motionless.

“hmm?”

“let’s eat dinner outside after work.”

“…meat?”

“and beer!” he adds, brimming with excitement, and he salivates as he can almost taste them in his mouth already. they are his favorite, after all.

“i’ll come pick you up then.” you drop a kiss on his forehead, and he sighs happily. “but go to sleep or else i’ll kick you out of the bedroom again.”

his sweet embrace becomes an iron grip.

cold and alone, he swears those were some of the worst three hours of his life.

he squeaks in defeat. “goodnight, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[luveline]

if it’s at all possible, i’m requesting the fluffiest, giggliest fic with poly!marauders where reader is just sad and teary so they get in a big cuddle pile and tickle her and kiss her until she’s a giggly mess and all cheered up 🥹 thank you lovely jade!! <3

ty for requesting angel! fem, 1.1k

You watch yourself in the mirror. At your vanity, a cotton pad soaked in toner in hand. You wash down your face gently, your eyes hot and heavy and waiting to fill with tears. 

Maybe it’s because it’s Sirius who’s sitting on your bed that you end up crying. It’s hard to explain why it makes a difference, why he’s the one out of everyone who you can’t hide from when you’re sad. It’s not as though James or Remus are any less understanding than he is. James is the most generous person you’ve ever met, he’d let you cry into his arms for days on end without complaint, and Remus understands better than most what it is to be in pain, but Sirius won’t make you talk about it. When you’re feeling better, you’ll realise that it’s the complete lack of pressure to confront your feelings that brings them to the surface. Sirius won’t ask you to explain yourself. 

The tears fall down in discordant waves. One from the left, two from the right. Your nose grows hot, an uncomfortable wetness gathering at the back of your throat. 

You put your cotton pad aside, sniffling. 

“You okay, my angel?” Sirius asks, turning another page of his novel. 

You take a shaky breath. “Yeah,” you say, voice thick with tears. 

“You don’t sound okay.” You watch in the mirror as he puts his book down. He stands up quickly, and you’re presented with how good looking he is. Even through tears, he looks pretty. “What’s wrong?” 

You bend in on yourself, pressing your fingers to your eyes. “It’s nothing.” 

His hand falls against your shoulder, warm, the other not far behind. He leans on your back. “Come on, sweet girl,” he whispers, “don’t cry by yourself. Come to bed with me.” 

He doesn’t push you. You knew he wouldn’t. 

You let him usher you into the bed, where he sits with crossed legs and you fall into his chest. Your shoulders ache with your crying, shaking as the tears turn to sobs. You think about everything too much. And, despite the best intentions, Sirius’ gentle patting and hugging makes you cry harder. 

It’s a quiet house. The sound of your breakdown attracts another boy. He climbs into bed in front of you both. You know it’s Remus because James’ would’ve exclaimed in fear at the door, his hand tentative on your thigh. “Is everything alright?” he asks softly. 

“She’s okay, just a rough day,” Sirius says. 

It isn’t a lie. You wrap your arms around his waist like a clamp and lay there, face slipping down against his stomach, all bent and hurting as tears soak his dark t-shirt. 

“Really rough, it must’ve been,” Remus says. He rubs your thigh. “It’ll be okay. We’re here.” 

That makes you cry worse, too, but eventually the sentiment is driven home. No matter how bad the day is, or what happens to you, you’ll always have people to come home to who love you, and who want to rub your back for you when you can’t calm down. 

Remus pats your leg in a rhythm. Sirius stays very still. They both, somehow, know what you need. 

A little later, you lay with your face pressed to Sirius’ chest just shy of his armpit, Remus’ patting turned to light tickling, his voice a low constant. “You’re just so beautiful it intimidates people, that’s your problem, dovey, you’re scary because you’re that pretty. You think I’m blowing smoke, but I’m serious, and Sirius agrees with me, and James would get down on his knees right here and now and testify to that same thing.” His hand slides between the soft upper insides of your thighs to squeeze one reverently. “Everyone is jealous of you.” 

“Stop it,” you mumble. 

“She’s smiling,” Sirius says, drawing a loop behind your ear. 

“Stop.” 

“Everyone is jealous of me,” Remus furthers, “at Books and Coco, whenever you come with me, the boy behind the counter always gives me that stupid chauvinistic look like I’ve done some great service to men-kind in landing you.” Remus leans down to kiss your leg. “And it’s silly that he gives me that look, but his sentiment isn’t wrong. I can’t say I landed you, but I am lucky.” 

“Stop,” you say again, laughing as his breath further tickles your leg. 

The door to the bedroom clatters open. You jump, having not heard the front door, but Sirius rubs your arm and you quickly calm. After all, it’s James coming in. He’s far from scary. 

“Hello,” he says, a little breathless, “you guys wouldn’t believe the photo I just took at the pond. The sun was setting and there were all these colours coming through the trees and over the water.” He gives you a funny look. “Have you been crying?” 

“Just a bit,” Sirius says gently, hugging you a half inch closer, “she’s alright now.” 

James frowns. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” 

“It’s okay,” Sirius answers for you. To some, his speaking for you might irk them, but right now it’s exactly what you need. It’s less embarrassing to have him talk for you. “Remus has praised her half to death, and he keeps tickling us both.” 

“Oh, you’re tickling him too?” you ask. 

Remus squints at you. “Well, just a little bit.” 

You put upon a forlorn sigh. “I’m not as special as I thought.” 

“Sweetheart, you are the most special,” James says, climbing into the bed, making you the centre of their flower, “you’re gorgeous. Let’s have a kiss.” 

“That’s what I said,” Remus says, laughing as you lean away from James’ kiss, even as big hands find your cheeks to hold your face. 

“Come on, lovely girl, just give me a kiss so I know you’re alright,” James says. 

You evade to tease him. You can’t help laughing as you turn your head one way and then the other, quick to dodge him, his lips pressing half kisses against whatever bit of skin he can as you move. 

“This is harassment!” you laugh. 

“Just one kiss…” He holds your face steady, and he looks at you long and hard. When you move your chin up to kiss him, he moves away. “You’re okay?” he asks softly. 

“I’m fine,” you laugh, kissing him quickly. 

James collapses atop you, all his weight and smells. “Thank god for that.” 

“Well, thank Sirius,” Remus says, “he did all the back-rubbing.” 

Sirius groans and tries to get out from under you. “You’re all very heavy.” 

“James? Can I see your photo?” you ask. 

He squeezes you half to death in answer. 

[ponderingmoonlight]

HEYYYY so i dont really know if u write this stuff but i was wondering if u could do like toji/jjk men and their reaction when the reader goes into labour?? ❤️❤️

JJK men when you go into labor

Pairings: Toji x fem!reader; Geto x fem!reader; Gojo x fem!reader; Sukuna x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,3k

Warnings: yk...birth, this is basically the same scenario for 3k words straight lol, never gave birth myself so idk if this is accurate 🥹

Toji Fushiguro

The day started like any other. Well, as normal as it can be when you’re nine months pregnant.

You are in the kitchen, trying to decide between a cup of tea or a snack, when a sharp, unmistakable pain shoots through your abdomen. You gasp, clutching the edge of the counter for support as the realization hits you with full force:

This is it. The baby is coming.

“Toji!” you call out, your voice trembling as another wave of pain rolls through you.

You hear the rustle of a newspaper being set down and the heavy footsteps of your husband approaching from the living room.

“Toji…” you try to keep calm, but the panic in your voice is unmistakable.

The man is a fortress, rarely showing any emotion beyond his usual stoic demeanor, but when he sees your expression, something shifts in his eyes. The usually cool, collected Toji Fushiguro is now all business.

Without a word, he’s right by your side, one strong arm wrapping around your waist to support you. His other hand comes up to gently tilt your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“How long have you been feeling this?” he questions, his voice steady, though you can hear the underlying tension.

“Just started,” you manage to reply through gritted teeth.

Another contraction hits, and you instinctively grip his arm, digging your nails into his skin for support.

Toji doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he simply nods, assessing the situation with the same precision he would use in a fight.

“Alright. We’re going to the hospital now. I’ll get the bag.”

He guides you to the couch, making sure you are seated comfortably before he disappears down the hall. You can hear the faint sound of drawers being opened and closed, and within moments, he’s back with the hospital bag slung over his shoulder.

Toji lifts you into his arms effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as he carries you to the car. His movements are quick but careful. And even though he’d never admit it, you can feel the tension in his body, a rare vulnerability in a man who’s usually so unshakable.

As he settles you into the passenger seat, he leans down, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

“You’re strong. You can handle this, babe” he mutters, his voice firm but with an edge of softness that he rarely shows.

The drive to the hospital is swift as usual, Toji weaving through traffic with the same precision he uses in combat. But his now soft hand never leaves yours, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin as if trying to soothe both your pain and his own worry.

“You’re doing great,” he murmurs, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

His jaw is set, the muscles on his neck visible tense. And yet his voice is calm, grounding you during your fear and pain.

When you finally arrive at the hospital, Toji is all efficiency. He barks orders at the staff, making sure everything is ready for your arrival with all their attention on you. Despite the situation, his grip on your hand is firm, his presence unwavering while he stays by your side through every step.

In the delivery room, as the pain intensifies, you squeeze his hand to death, your nails biting into his now injured skin. Toji doesn’t do so much as flinch, his focus entirely on you.

“Breathe,” he reminds you whenever you need to hear it, his voice steady and commanding.

You manage to look up at him between contractions. And for a brief moment, you see something in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

Fear.

It’s fleeting, quickly replaced by his usual determination, but it was there, a reminder that beneath his tough exterior and his sometimes sharp tone towards you, Toji cares more than he’ll ever admit.

As the contractions grow stronger, Toji’s calm exterior begins to crack. He isn’t panicking, but you can see the worry etched into his features, the way his grip tightened just slightly every time you cry out in pain.

“You’re almost there,” he murmurs, his voice gruff but soothing.

“Just a little longer.”

When the final push comes and the cries of your newborn fill the room, you see Toji’s shoulders relax ever so slightly through wet lashes. When he looks down at you, a small and rare smile tugs on the corner of his usual so neutral lips. Those lips you’ll never get tired of kissing. Those lips who can be used as a weapon, those lips that do in fact hurt you from time to time. You know this relationship can be toxic, that Toji Fushiguro isn’t the definition of a dream husband.

But at this very moment, with glistening eyes set on you and that smile forming on his face, you can think of nothing else.

“You did it,” he whispers, his voice low and filled with something that almost sounds like awe.

When the nurse places the baby in your arms, Toji’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

“You’re amazing,” he whispers, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Get some rest, babe.”

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your new family and with your eyelids slowly but surely growing heavy, you see a side of Toji that he rarely let anyone see: a man who is strong but also deeply, fiercely protective of the people he loves.

Especially you.

Suguru Geto

The afternoon sunlight filters through the curtains when you sit on the couch, folding the last of the baby clothes that Suguru insisted on organizing earlier that morning. You smile to yourself, thinking about how fussy he was, making sure everything was in its place for the baby’s arrival.

You feel a twinge in your lower abdomen, brushing it off as one of the many discomforts that accompanied the last few weeks of pregnancy. But the pain returns just a few seconds later, sharper this time. Your face turns pale when realization hits you with full force.

This isn’t just another cramp. Those are contractions.

“Suguru…” you call out, trying to keep your voice steady as another wave of pain washes over you.

Panic starts to creep in, even though you try to push it down. You need to stay calm, need to make your way to the hospital to finally deliver that baby.

Suguru appears in the doorway almost instantly, his usually serene expression replaced with pure concern as he crosses the room to your side.

“What is it? Are you alright?” he asks with gentle and yet tensioned voice.

“I think it’s time,” you whisper, clutching your belly when another contraction hit, more intense than the last.

“I think… I’m in labor.”

Labor.

For a moment, Suguru’s eyes widen, a rare flash of panic crossing his features. But as quickly as it came, it vanishes into his usual calm composure.

He kneels beside you, taking your hand in his, his thumb brushing soothing circles against your skin.

“Alright,” he replies softly, his voice like a balm to your frayed nerves.

“We’ll get through this. Let me get everything ready.”

Suguru stands and moves with a quiet efficiency, grabbing the hospital bag and making sure you have everything you need. You watch him, your heart swelling with love and gratitude for this man who, despite the panic of the situation, is doing everything he can to keep you calm.

Until another contraction hits you like a truck.

He’s back at your side in no time, helping you to your feet with a gentle touch.

“Lean on me,” he instructs softly, wrapping an arm around your waist to support you while you make your way to the car.

The drive to the hospital is surreal. Suguru’s hand never leaves yours, his presence a constant source of comfort. He speaks softly to you the entire time, his voice a steady rhythm that you can focus on, grounding you through coming and going contractions.

“You’re doing amazing,” he repeats over and over, his tone filled with quiet admiration.

You try to focus on his words, his calm demeanor helping to ease some of your anxiety. Suguru is always the calm in your storm, the one who can bring you back to center no matter how chaotic things are. And now, when the reality of labor starts to set in, you are more grateful than ever for his steady presence.

When you arrived at the hospital, Suguru springs into action immediately, helping you out of the car and into a wheelchair with the same gentle care he always shows. He stays close as the nurses wheel you into the delivery room, his hand never leaving yours.

As the contractions grow stronger, you find yourself gripping his hand tighter, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Suguru is right there with you, his voice a constant source of comfort.

“Breathe, love,” he whispers, his tone soothing.

“You’re doing so well.”

Despite the pain you find yourself focusing on his voice, letting it guide you through each contraction. Suguru’s presence is like a lifeline, grounding you in the midst of the pain and chaos. He always remains close, his forehead resting gently against yours as he whispers words of encouragement in your ear.

“You’re almost there,” he murmurs softly.

“Just a little more, and we’ll meet our baby.”

As the final push comes, you could feel Suguru’s grip on your hand tighten, his breath catching in his throat while watching you bring your child into the world. Within the next second, the sound of your baby’s first cry fills the room, and the first thing you see are tears glistening in Suguru’s eyes.

“You did it,” he breathes out, his voice thick with emotion as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re incredible.”

The nurse places your baby in your arms and Suguru’s hand comes to rest gently on the tiny head, his expression softening as he looks down at your child.

“Welcome to the world,” he whispers, his voice filled with so much love for that little creature that makes your heart swell.

Satoru Gojo

You are lounging on the couch, trying to find a comfortable position, which honestly seems impossible at this stage of pregnancy. Satoru is in the kitchen, probably making another one of his infamous midnight snacks. The two of you spent the day preparing for the baby’s arrival, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

Out of nowhere, a sharp pain shoots through your abdomen, stealing your breath. You hold onto your belly, realization dawning on you as the pain increases more and more.

“Satoru!” you call out, your voice laced with urgency.

Almost instantly, Satoru appears in the doorway, a sandwich in one hand and a look of confusion on his face.

“What’s up?” he asks casually.

But when he sees the expression on your face, his carefree demeanor falters in an instant.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“I think… I think it’s time,” you manage to press out, your voice trembling as another contraction hits.

You see the color drain from his face for a split second before his usual grin appears bac on his face.

“Oh, it’s go time!” he exclaims, dropping the sandwich onto the counter and rushing over to you.

“Alright, don’t worry, babe. I’ve got this. I’ll just finish that sandwich later,”

You can’t help but laugh despite the pain.

“You…You really think about that sandwich now?”

 He helps you to your feet, his hands warm and steady as he guides you toward the door.

“Sure babe. Just breathe, okay? I’ll have you at the hospital in no time.”

He scoops you up with ease, carrying you to the car like you weigh nothing. As he settles you into the passenger seat, he is all smiles, though you could see the flicker of nervousness in his eyes.

“You ready for this?” he questions, his voice filled with excitement.

The drive to the hospital is a blur of lights and Satoru’s voice, a constant stream of chatter meant to distract you from the pain and Backstreet Boys crying out of the radio. He weaves through traffic with an ease that only he can manage, glancing over at you every few seconds while humming.

“You’re doing amazing, babe. Just keep breathing.”

You squeeze his hand tightly, trying to focus on his voice as another contraction hits. Satoru’s grip tightens in response, and you can see the concern creeping into his usually carefree expression.

But he still keeps talking, trying to keep you calm with jokes, stories and boy bands, anything to make you smile.

When you finally arrive at the hospital, Satoru is out of the car in a flash, helping you out and into a wheelchair with a surprising amount of gentleness. He holds your hand tightly as the nurses wheel you inside.

In the delivery room, Satoru stays by your side, his usual humor tempered by a seriousness you rarely saw.

“You’ve got this,” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from your face while you brace for another contraction.

“You’re the strongest person I know.”

Despite the pain, you manage a small smile. You, the strongest?

“No, you’re the strongest”, you press out.

He simply beams down at you while shrugging in a playful way. Satoru might joke around a lot, but in moments like this, you know you can count on him to be there for you.

As the labor progresses, you find yourself leaning on him more and more, his voice the only thing grounding you through the pain. Satoru’s grip on your hand never wavers, even when you squeeze it hard enough to leave marks.

“Just a little more, babe,” he purrs, his forehead pressed against yours as he helps you through the final push.

“You’re almost there.”

When your baby’s cries finally fill the room, you see the tension leave Satoru’s body all at once. He looks down at you, a wide grin spreading across his face, his eyes shining with tears he will never admit to.

“We did it,” he whispers, his voice choked with emotion.

As the nurse placed your baby in your arms, Satoru’s hand comes to rest gently on the tiny head, his expression one of pure awe.

“Hey there, little one,” he hushes softly.

You looked up at him, tears in your own eyes when you see the way he looks at your child:

With all the love and devotion he usually tries to hide behind jokes and smiles.

In that moment, you know that Satoru will be the best father, just as he’s the best partner.

“Now…are you in the mood for a sandwich?”

“Babies aren’t allowed to eat sandwiches, idiot.”

Ryomen Sukuna

You are lying in bed like you did those pasts days, trying to ignore the discomfort nagged at you all day. Ryomen Sukuna sits across the room, his crimson eyes watching you with a mixture of boredom and curiosity.

He was never one to show much concern, but you noticed the way his gaze had lingered on you more often as your due date approached.

Then, without warning, a sharp, intense pain shoots through your abdomen, making you gasp. You clutch at your belly, the realization hitting you hard.

“Sukuna…” you manage to whisper, your voice strained.

He’s by your side in an instant, faster than you ever saw him move.

“What is it?” he questions, his voice low and dangerous, as if he’s ready to eliminate whatever was causing you pain.

“I think… I think it’s happening,” you press out, trying to keep your voice steady as another contraction hits.

“The baby is coming.”

For a moment, Sukuna’s eyes narrow, his usual arrogance replaced by something you can’t quite place.

“So, it begins,” he mutters more to himself than to you.

Without another word, he lifts you into his arms, his grip firm but surprisingly gentle.

“You’re not going to die from this, are you?” he comments, a hint of irritation in his voice, though you know him well enough to recognize the concern beneath it.

You manage a weak smile.

“No, I’m not going to die.”

“Good,” he mutters, his tone gruff as he carries you out of the room.

“I won’t tolerate weakness from the woman birthing my child.”

Despite his harsh words, you can feel the tension in his body radiating from his firm muscles, the way his grip tightens ever so slightly when you wince in pain. Sukuna was always a creature of power and control, and the fact that he can’t do anything to stop your pain seems to frustrate him.

How ironic.

He carries you outside, where a car waits - something he arranged without you even realizing it. Sukuna isn’t usually one to rely on human conveniences, but for you, he obviously made an exception.

“A car?”

“Shut up, brat. Teleporting us into the hospital might be too dangerous. I…I don’t know much about a pregnancy…”

“I can tell that.”

The drive to the hospital is silent, save for the sound of your labored breathing and the occasional growl from Sukuna when you tense in pain. He sits beside you, his eyes never leaving your face, watching you with an intensity that borders on obsessive.

When you finally arrived at the hospital, Sukuna carries you inside, ignoring the shocked looks from the staff as he barks orders at them. His presence is intimidating, and no one dares question him as he demands the best care for you.

In the delivery room, Sukuna stays close, his usual arrogance tempered by something you rarely saw in him - worry.

“You’re stronger than this,” he tells you, his voice low and commanding as you fight through another contraction.

“You will not be defeated by something as trivial as childbirth.”

His words are harsh, but you can hear the underlying concern, the way his eyes soften ever so slightly when you cry out in pain. Sukuna was never one to show weakness, but in this moment, you can see that he’s in fact afraid. Afraid of losing you, afraid of something happening that he can’t control. Him, the king of curses, not in charge for this situation?

As the labor progresses, you find yourself relying on his strength, his presence a strange comfort in the midst of the pain. Sukuna’s hand find yours, his grip firm and unyielding, as if he tries to share his power with you, to keep you grounded in the storm of pain that washes over you.

“You will get through this,” he growls, his voice filled with an authority that doesn’t allow another argument.

“You are mine, and I will not let anything happen to you.”

When the final push comes, you can feel Sukuna’s grip tighten, his breath hitching as your baby’s cries echo through the room. He looks down at you, his eyes wide with something that might be shock. Or perhaps awe? You are too exhausted and filled with emotions to care.

“You did it,” he murmurs, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he looks at the tiny, wriggling form in your arms.

“You really did it.”

For a moment, Sukuna is silent, staring down at the baby with an expression you’ve never seen before - an almost hesitant curiosity.

Slowly and hesitating, he reached out, his large hand resting gently on the baby’s dark head.

“This… is ours,” he mutters, his voice filled with a strange mix of pride and possessiveness.

You nod, tears filling your eyes as you looked up at him.

“Yes, ours.”

He might be the king of curses, a being of immense power and cruelty, but in this moment, he is also a father, and you know that he’ll protect you and your child with everything he has.

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[ahqkas]

your work so so beautiful!! i really loved the dick grayson one where he is teasing his s/o and he accidentally hits a nerve and his s/o entire aura just becomes sad and they look at him so sad! can you please write an x jason response? would love to know what you think

♯ CAREFUL WHO YOU ARE TALKING TO

— gn!crush!reader, fluff + a bit of angst, cursing, mention of reader’s hair, i projected myself into this one 🥹

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

JASON PETER TODD WAS IN THIS UNUSUAL MOOD, a playful edge in his voice as he lounged against your kitchen counter. he was wearing a black henley with the sleeves pushed up, showing the faint scars that crisscrossed his forearms—a reminder of how much he’d endured, and how much he tried to shield the people he cared about from the same. his lips curved into a smirk as he watched you shuffle through a stack of mail at the table, muttering something about overdue bills and junk flyers.

you were so fucking pretty like that.

“you’re really going to spend your whole evening worrying about that crap?” he asked, his tone light but teasing.

you glanced up at him with a small smile, though your brows were furrowed in focus. “it’s not crap, jay. some of us have to deal with real-world responsibilities, you know.”

“yeah, yeah,” he said with a wave of his hand, crossing the room to sit across from you. his grin widened as he leaned forward on his elbows, resting his chin on one hand. “you always get this little crinkle in your forehead when you’re stressed. like you’re trying to be a serious adult or something.”

rolling your eyes, a faint warmth dusted your cheeks. “trying? i am a serious adult, thank you very much.”

jason chuckled, voice warm and teasing as he continued in his teasing. “sure you are. except when you get all flustered over stuff that doesn’t even matter. like the time you panicked because your phone case didn’t match your bag, or when you spilled coffee on your shirt and refused to leave the house until you changed—three times.”

his laughter was soft at first, but it gained momentum as he spoke, clearly enjoying himself. he didn’t notice the way your smile faltered, how your hands stilled over the papers you’d been sorting. his words kept rolling out, lighthearted and without malice, but they landed differently this time.

“and let’s not forget the way you freak out when you’re running late. it’s like you think the world’s gonna end if you’re five minutes behind.”

he finally looked up, expecting to see your gentle smirk or the playful eye roll you always gave when he acted this way around and with you. instead, jason saw the way your shoulders had tensed, your posture folding in on itself like you were trying to disappear, make yourself seem as small as possible. your lips were pressed into a thin line, and your eyes looked down at the table, avoiding his.

“hey,” he said, his voice softening immediately. “i was just messing with you.”

you didn’t respond at first, your fingers fidgeting with the corner of one of the crinkled envelopes. when you finally spoke, your voice was quiet, trembling just enough that it shattered jason’s heart. “i know. it’s just . . . i already feel like i’m always messing things up.”

jason froze, the weight of your words hitting him like a freight train. he thought back over what he’d said, how he’d turned your small quirks into a supposed joke without realizing how much they might mean to you. cursing under his breath, jason’s chest tightened as he saw the sadness in your eyes when you finally glanced up at him.

“you’re not messing anything up,” he said firmly, sliding his chair closer to yours. his teasing tone was gone, replaced by something serious and sincere. “i didn’t mean it like that. you know i don’t think that, right?”

you gave a half-hearted shrug, trying to brush it off, but jason wasn’t having it. he reached out, his hand warm and solid as it covered yours, stilling your nervous movements.

“hey,” he said again, his voice low and steady. “look at me.”

reluctantly, you raised your eyes to meet his. the vulnerability there made his heart ache. you looked like a kicked puppy, like you were waiting for the next blow to land, and jason hated himself for being the one who put that look on your face.

“you are not a screw-up,” he continued gently. “you’re the furthest thing from it. you’re . . . you’re the best thing in my life, and i’m an idiot for making you feel like anything less than that.”

your lips parted as if to protest, but jason squeezed your hand, cutting you off.

“no, don’t argue with me,” he said, his tone softening into something almost pleading. “i know i tease you, but it’s because i like the way you get all flustered. i like that you care about the little things, even if i don’t always get it. it’s not a bad thing. it’s what makes you . . . you. and i’m sorry for being an ass about it.”

you stared at him for a long moment, the sadness in your expression slowly giving way to something softer. he was confessing. jason peter todd was practically confessing his feelings for you. he leaned in closer, his free hand brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“you mean everything to me,” he said quietly. “i never want to make you feel like you’re not enough. because you are. more than enough.”

a tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it, and jason immediately reached up to brush it away with his thumb. “aw, don’t do that,” he said, his voice laced with guilt. “now i feel like a real jerk.”

you laughed softly and the sound broke the tension in the room. “you’re not a jerk, jay. you’re just . . . you.”

he grinned at that, though it was tinged with relief. “damn right.”

you rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your smile was back, and jason felt like he could finally breathe again.

“come on,” he said, standing and tugging you up with him. “i’m making it up to you. whatever you want—takeout, movies, ice cream, you name it. your call.”

you hesitated for a moment before nodding, leaning into his side as he wrapped an arm around you. “okay,” you agreed softly.

he knew he’d have to be more careful with his teasing in the future, but for now, he was just grateful to have you back in his arms, where you belonged.

[seeleybooth]

Can't get over the shot of Colin, how he holds her face as he kisses her 🥹

His lips touched hers softly at first, not because he was trying to be gentle, although if he'd had the presence of mind to think about such things, it probably would have occurred to him that this was her first kiss, and it ought to be reverent and beautiful and all the things a girl dreams about as she's lying in bed at night.

But in all truth, none of that was on Colin's mind. In fact, he was thinking of quite little. His kiss was soft and gentle because he was still so surprised that he was kissing her. He’d known her for years, had never even thought about touching his lips to hers. And now he couldn't have let her go if the fires of hell were licking his toes. He could barely believe what he was doing --- for Colin just as much as for Penelope.

It wasn't the sort of a kiss one initiates because one is overcome with passion or emotion or anger or desire. It was a slower thing, a learning experience for Colin just as much as for Penelope.

And he was learning that everything he thought he'd known about kissing was rubbish.

Everything else had been mere lips and tongue and softly murmured but meaningless words.

This was a kiss. - Romancing Mister Bridgerton - Chapter 9

[dollyichi]

Imagine doing doggy style w Katsuki and he just starts peppering your back with kisses while his hand is wrapped around your waist with his palm on your stomach😩 ID GET WEAKK

omg yeah 🥹 the way i giggled and kicked my feet he is so

m—dni. f ! reader / marking / established relationship / tummy bulge / not proofread

i think it’s even more insane when you can hear him from behind but can’t really see him.

before he goes down to kiss you he’d have a finger of his trail downwards your back. he wish he could see your face but it’s also a great visual for him seeing you spasm and struggling to keep your ass up while he’s thrusting.

his hips aren’t that gentle at all, and he’s so so deep in you. but it contrasts with his soft, delicate pecks and bites on your back. each little kiss has you melting and you’re giving up on trying to hold yourself, feeling your head start to turn hazy. you’re almost melting into the soft mattress while he continues to pound into you. only thing holding you up is his palm pressing against your stomach with a little bulge every time he bottoms out.

afterwards you’d both be at the bathroom checking out your backs by the sink—his with red fresh scratches and yours full of love bites. and he’d look so smug, taking pride in the marks you leave on him and vice versa. he’d be tracing your back too, circling around the hickeys.

you’re sure you have to find or buy a different dress for your dinner date tomorrow because the one you bought last time you went shopping was backless (which he enthusiastically told you to buy… with his card of course).

soon getting hard again watching you from the bathroom door. you push your hair out of your face to properly see your back from the mirror a little more, examining his ‘work.’

it’s so attractive to him, especially when you knit your eyebrows together realizing he went overboard with it. causing you to glare at him through the reflection.

“i mean- i could do the front too.” he says with a chuckle. you playfully hit his chest but he dodges, pulling you towards him, “what? you rejecting my offer for another round?” as if you could say no to that.

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reaction to their s/o cutely asking for kiss

Request: hiii my love🥹🥹 i love your writing so so much (。･ω･｡)ﾉ♡ i have a request for you if you’re up to it!! how would svt ot13 react to reader asking (cutely) for kisses? only if you’re up to it ofc!! i feel like your writing style would suit something like this so well eeeee sjkshak ♡＾▽＾♡ i hope you have a lovely day !!! (´▽｀).。ｏ♡

A/N: It may not be perfect and up to expectations, but I really hope you like it.

Content: Fluff and me cussing because I got no self control, sorry.

Seungcheol: He’d immediately melt, his heart practically liquefying at the sight—your cuteness. Seriously, this man has no defenses against it. His gaze soften with that soft, lovesick gaze of his. He’s way too in love to even pretend like he's cool about it. His hand finds the small of your back as he pulls you closer, his warmth enveloping you completely. He’d plant a featherlight kiss on your forehead—because god forbid you think he doesn't appreciate you being this adorable, then, his lips brush yours, soft and deliberate like he’s savoring every second. His other hand tilts your chin up just slightly, and the kiss deepens—not rushed, but slow and intoxicating, the kind that leaves you feeling weightless. He’s totally aware of the power you hold over him. You're the softest, most lovable thing he’s ever seen, and he’s fully prepared to kiss the hell out of you whenever you ask (•̀o•́)ง

Jeonghan: This man. This Man. He wouldn't give in so easily, because where's the fun in that? The moment you looked at him with those big, pleading eyes, he'd tilt his head, smirk tugging at the corners of his lips like he's got all the time in the world to tease you. And he does because he's Jeonghan, and your patience is his favorite thing to toy with. He'd wait until you started to pout, yes, the pout, and then it's game over. His smirk would break. And then, boom-attack mode activated. He'd lean in, catching you completely off guard as he kissed you everywhere. Forehead, cheeks, nose, lips-this man's got zero chill when it comes to your cuteness. You'd barely have time to breathe before he's back for more, because yeah, he's a menace, but he's also so fucking whipped.

Joshua: Joshua fucking Hong. He's a soft yet calculated menace (evil twin for a reason) who knows exactly how to make you melt. He'd glance at you, his ears turning the most adorable shade of pink, before reaching out to cup your face so softly. And then, The kiss. It'd be so gentle, so sweet, but Joshua isn't done. He'd pull back just slightly, only to press pecks all over your face. You'd think he's finished, but then-bam-he's back for your lips again, It's enough to make you want to scream into a pillow, because how is this man real?! He's soft and teasing and completely ruining you all at once, and he's smiling so sweetly the entire time, like he doesn't know he knows the chaos he's causing.

Jun: Before you could even blink, he’d lean in, his hands cradling your face and start smothering you in kisses. And I mean everywhere. Your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose—nothing is safe from his assault of affection. You’d be giggling uncontrollably because, how do you not laugh when someone is this aggressively adorable? And when your giggles turn into that breathless kind of laughter that makes your cheeks hurt, Jun would pause for just a second, giving you the softest look ever (ಥ﹏ಥ) before diving back in for more. Seriously, are you kidding me? This is the cutest shit ever.

Hoshi: Soonyoung would have zero chill like a tiger. Like, none. You’d ask for kisses, and this man would scream, “KWON SOONYOUNG WILL DELIVER!” And then, boom—couch tackle. I’m not kidding; he’d literally throw himself at you like it’s a wrestling match, his weight knocking you back into the cushions as he grins like an absolute madman. He’d pepper your face with so many pecks that your cheeks would be flushed, your hair a mess, and your stomach would hurt from laughing so much, but does Soonyoung stop? Absolutely not. He’s all-in because of how cute you are. I mean, come on. This man’s kisses are a fucking serotonin boost (｡♥‿♥｡)

Wonwoo: Wonwoo would literally freeze, like his brain just blue-screened. You’d watch as he blinked at you, clearly trying to process how cutely you asked. The way his ears would start turning the tiniest bit pink. But then, oh my god, the smile. That shy, little barely there smile would creep onto his face, and it’s game over for you. He’d lean in so carefully, as if you might shatter, and place the softest fuckass kiss on your lips, pulling back just enough to whisper, “You’re adorable,” ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Sir? Hello?? And the way he looks at you after, like you just handed him the moon? Yeah.

Woozi: Flustered Woozi is a whole mood, and you’d get front-row seats to the show. The moment the word ‘kisses’ leaves your lips, he’d stammer, his face turning about twelve shades of red faster than you could blink. It’s adorable, but also, Jihoon? Get a grip, bro. He’d try to act all nonchalant, but you know he’s losing his mind. Shit, this is red too. BUT no matter how flustered he gets, he can’t resist you. He’d finally lean in, quick as lightning, pressing a shy kiss to your lips before pulling back. He’d then grumble something like, “Don’t ask like that, it’s too much,” while still avoiding your eyes because you’re TOO cute, and he can’t handle it. Honestly, Woozi being this soft is enough to make you (us) want to sob (｡T ω T｡)

Dokyeom: Oh, Seokmin. Sweet, sunshine Seokmin. His face would light up like a goddamn Christmas tree the second the words leave your mouth. “Of course!” he’d exclaim, already grinning from ear to ear. He’d lean in with all the drama of a lead in a romantic K-drama, his hands cradling your face as he starts peppering sweet, playful kisses across your lips and cheeks. He’d be giggling the whole time, because your cuteness is literally too much for him. Honestly, are you fucking kidding me?! The way he’d pull back just to give you that soft, adoring smile before diving back in for more? Yeah, you’re ruined. Completely and utterly ruined ♡

Mingyu: He lives for riling you up. The second you ask, he’d shoot you this cheeky smirk, leaning closer like he’s trying to interrogate you. “Oh? You want kisses from me? Is this a bribe?” he’d say, all smug, because he’s that guy. And before you can even start protesting because seriously, who bribes for kisses?!—he’s already scooping you up like you weigh nothing (show-off) and smothering you in kisses. Like, everywhere. Your cheeks, your forehead, your nose—hell, he might even go for your hands if he’s feeling extra (which he is). “I’m kidding,” he’d whisper in between kisses, his voice all soft and warm. “I’d kiss you all day if you let me.” And the way he’s looking at you? Like you hung the damn stars in the sky? Yeah, Mingyu wins. We all lose. Someone call a medic, because this is too much.

Minghao: Minghao would give you the look. You know, the one that’s equal parts of amusement and disbelief, like he’s genuinely questioning you? “Kisses, huh?” He’d make you repeat yourself. Not once, but twice. Because apparently, your cute little request wasn’t enough for him the first time. The audacity! But oh, when you finally repeat yourself, all shy and adorable, his smirk would soften, and he’d lean in to place the most deliberate, gentle kiss on your lips. And then he’d just pull back, shrugging like it’s no big deal like he’s completely unfazed. But don’t let that fool you—inside, he’s melting, because how are you this fucking cute?! And honestly? Same, Minghao. Same.

Seungkwan: Sweet, dramatic, extra Seungkwan. He’d gasp so loudly you’d think you just insulted his entire family tree. “Aigoo, you want kisses from me? What are you, a baby?” he’d exclaim, all mock-offended and ridiculous. But then, you pout. And here’s where the real magic happens. Because Seungkwan? This man would immediately crumble. Before you know it, he’s absolutely peppering your face with kisses and in between, he’d be muttering something like, “Why did I tease you? I’m such an idiot. You’re too cute.” He’d pull back just to check if you’re smiling again, and when you are? More kisses. Because Seungkwan doesn’t half-ass anything, especially when it comes to you.

Vernon: The moment you ask him for kisses, Vernon is the type to get caught off guard so easily, it’s kind of adorable. “Oh, uh… sure?” he’d say but he’s secretly dying inside, because how could you be this cute asking for a kiss?! Vernon would lean in as if he’s got it all under control, but you just know his heart is doing somersaults as he places the softest kiss on your lips. When he pulls back, laughing a little, he’d look at you with that adorable grin of his, completely charmed by your cuteness. “You’re cute for asking like that, though,” he’d say, shaking his head. Because, really, how the hell did you get so cute, and how are you making him feel this flustered over something so simple?! You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, and he knows it.

Dino: Okay, can we just talk about how freaking excited Dino would get? He’d practically bounce in place, heart eyes and filled with excitement, as if you just offered him a lifetime supply of ice cream. It’s honestly ridiculous, and you’d probably start laughing at his reaction, which would make him even more fluffy. He’d lean in quickly, planting an exaggerated kiss on your lip. “You’re the cutest thing ever!” he’d shout, and you’d barely have time to process before he’s back again, giving you another kiss, this time on the cheek, because he can and also, he’s obsessed with how you look when you ask. Dino would be so so fuzzy.

[sukunas-wife]

baby yuji who is super clingy to his dad and would rather be with him than his mom until mama has to leave to see a relative (or for some reason) and misses her so much that he makes trouble for daddy sukuna

Not sure if I wanted to do Modern day or Heian Era, but I really like the thought of

Yuji clinging to one of Sukuna’s arms while he just goes about his day sighing with a dead look and lifting his arm to bring Yuji to eye level just to make sure he’s still there. So that’s it, Heian Era it is, I’ll need to start adding that to when requests are submitted 🥹

Ryomen Yuji Sukuna loved clinging to his daddy’s side. Something the King of Curses was not used to but grew fond of in the course of days. He’s not a gentle beast and much less a soft man, but the way Yuji would cry when he entered the room, his little hands pushing him away from your chest and reaching out for him? He loved, it made him swell with pride that his son knew he was the one, he was the all powerful one and wanted to be by his side.

Many times you’d walk in on Sukuna speaking aimlessly to Yuji who was laying on his chest, one of Sukuna’s large hands almost covering him entirely. Two arms crossed behind his head, and his forth hands waved around aimlessly accentuating his points. “Hey are you listening brat…” Yuji’s little round eyes kept slowly opening and closing, doing his best to stay awake listening to whatever was happening. He let out a coo before his head fell completely against his dad’s chest and he fell asleep, little fists on his dads chest. Sukuna let out a long sigh, “mm, sleep then.”

Sukuna heard your hushed laugh and he looked at you, standing there in the doorway of your shared room. You quietly made your way over to him sitting beside him and brushing his hair out of his face. He grabbed your wrist, pulling it to his lips, and biting over your pulse point lightly. “Do you want to hold him or should I lay him down?” Sukuna let your hand slip from his before he pulled you down with him, “Leave him with me.”

Time crawled on and soon he was sleeping in the middle of your bed, his little pillow wedged between both your pillow and Sukuna’s. You could bear it but Sukuna was a menace to his own son. He’d bundle him up and throw him on his other side so he could hold you, Yuji would cry and punch his dads back with his little fists and wouldn’t stop until Sukuna would put him back in the middle. You’d smile fondly as Yuji would stand half laying on his Sukuna’s chest, and poking his face. It was funny watching how Yuji would try to touch his extra eyes and Sukuna would just hold him up in the air so he’d kick and laugh. That’s when he’d get his kisses in, and Yuji would fight harder because you were getting his dad’s attention instead of him.

Yuji did love you, he liked to hold your hand and go outside with you, he liked to follow you around and for some reason he always got clingier when you had to use the bathroom, it was “fun” using the restroom and there he was laughing and saying “hehe poopie” He loved sitting with you and drinking milk while you had tea and snacks. He learned your routine and Sukuna became curious one day when he was wrestling him around why he started kicking and trying to break free, “lemme go daddy I gonna go.” He was confused and offended, but curious why was his son running off so suddenly. He followed just to find you there sitting at a tea table outside under the plum blossoms. The soft look on your face was enough to lore Sukuna in to join you, that was until he saw the little hands pop up from behind the table in exaggerated motions like he was storytelling. “Mhmm, so you’re just like him then?” You were talking to Yuji who was exaggerating a story of how he was just wrestling with his father. His other hand was holding a sweet to his mouth where he was laid back on your lap, Sukuna was tempted to leave until you signalled him over. “I need to go to my family home soon. My only sister is getting married and my Father and Mother are requesting everyone to be there.” He sighed, he hated that overgrown village you came from. You didn’t come from a poverty stricken home but you weren’t bathing in lavishness as you were now.

“I’ll see you in 3 weeks. I love you.” Your lips met Sukuna’s in a kiss before Yuji was wedging himself in between both of you, “Bye mommy luf you.” He hugged your leg smiling up at you, you put a hand on his head rubbing his hair before kneeling down to hug him kissing his face all over and he laughed. “I love you too Yu.” Sukuna looked displeased when you finally left your home. Yuji was quick to pull on his hand to take him to wherever, everything was normal while Sukuna went about his business, Yuji lingering around until tea time came.

He got excited and started to run out into the garden where he’d always find you waiting. He stopped, The Plum blossom tree was there… but you weren’t.. no tea, no cake.. no “…mommy?…” the tears welling up in his eyes when he laid on the grass crying where the table would’ve been. Sukuna found him and rolled him over onto his side. He was red from crying, “Why do you cry?” Yuji was sniffling, tears and boogies running down his face. “ere’s no mommy.”

Sukuna sighed, picking him up by the scruff of his shirt, “stop crying she told you bye this morning, remember? She said she was leaving and you didn’t even try to go with her.”

“SHE'S NOT COMING BACK!?” Yuji started screaming and kicking while dangling in the air, ���MOOMMMYYYY”

This was how Sukuna spent the rest of the first day. Yuji crying and kicking and fussing because all of a sudden he wanted to be with his mommy.

“…Lord Sukuna, forgive me but don’t you think the young prince should be consoled or at least fed?” It was one of your ladies in waiting who had stayed behind. She had the bravery to talk to Sukuna in a respectful and appropriate way which is why you decided to ask her to stay. You knew if anything happened she’d be the most reliable woman considering she was also older in age.

Sukuna didn’t bother a quick glance, “He’ll be fine, bring him here.”

There he sat holding Yuji and patting his back, “Your mother is coming back Yuji, she wouldn’t abandon you with such ease.” Yuji sniffled holding onto his dads open robes with a tight grip, “she’s comin back?” His little teary eyes moved his heart, “Yes, she’s coming back now you need to eat or you won't be here when she comes back.” Yuji sniffled with a wobbly lip. “Wan noodles” Sukuna huffed hoping he wouldn’t have to eat noodles every day you were gone just to appease the boy, “then you’ll get noodles, but you will eat them all.”

They sat at the large table, Sukuna wasn’t eating but rather watching Yuji. How the boy kept pathetically using his hashi and dropping noodles. Until he gave up and out them down only to use the broth spoon to burn himself with the liquid before spitting it out. Sukuna was amassed but intervened when Yuji threw the spoon down aggravated, “I hate it.”

“What’s wrong now?” “Mommy always helps me with my hashi and blows on my spoon…” he looked up at his father with a desperate pleading look, Sukuna swallowed and pulled Yuji’s chair closer to his side along with his bowl of noodles, “Fine.” Yuji perked up with a little laugh “eheh.”

Yuji was busy the rest of the day following his dad and playing his own little games to remember why he was crying. That was until night time came and you weren’t there to tuck him in. He laid on your side of the bed, it was so cold without you there. There was so much space. He let out silent tears and the occasional sniffle until Sukuna finally came into the room. It was past the time you would lay Yuji down so he expected him to be asleep already. It wasn’t shocking to see him crying considering you would be there with him wrestling him down to bed while he persisted he should be with his daddy. So Sukuna laid down pulling Yuji into his side, Yuji hurried his face against his dads side holding on tight, it made Sukuna’s heart waver in a way, ‘he makes it feel as if she’s dead..’ His hand ran up and down Yuji’s small back, mumbling a story until Yuji fell asleep in his hold.

The next day was just as bad, and so was the third. During the day he was fine, until tea time came along and you weren’t there to receive him, he’d run back crying to his dad, and even when Sukuna ordered to have a tea table set up the way you would it never pleased Yuji, the teapot would just sit there full, getting cold. The sweets weren’t as sweet and the sun wasn’t the same sun that kept him warm while he slept in your lap.

The week passed, and finally one morning Sukuna woke up with Yuji drooling on his arm. He still cried himself to sleep, missing you and calling out for you. He yawned, getting a weird smell and leaned down sniffing before he understood, Yuji was the source of the smell, his smelly brat. Yuji yawned slowly, pushing himself up, and looking around before falling down against his fathers arm to sleep again. Sukuna let him sleep a little longer so he could sleep a little longer also.

Finally it was mid day when he woke up yawning again and then he woke up stretching, his bones popping as he sat up. Yuji let out a yawn/scream while he stretched trying to mimic the sound his father made when he stretched. Sukuna sat there for a minute, “You need a bath.” Yuji looked at his dad in disbelief, “No!”

That’s how Sukuna ended up sitting on a stool, sleeves tied back, watching Yuji pout at him with sad eyes, “T’s cold..” “URAUME BRING HOT WATER DAMN IT” there went Uraume in a rush to keep Lord Sukuna from becoming upset. Sukuna kept scrubbing Yuji down, who kept whining when Sukuna would move his head around to get him cleaned up. Finally Uraume came back with water that was hot enough the young prince wouldn’t complain. “Tank you ‘ume” Yuji didn’t look at Uraume, instead kicking over the cold water bucket from his smaller stool.

Uraume stifled a snicker, “It’ll be a long few weeks Yuji, but you’ll live.” Yuji hummed, swinging his feet, “yeah I know.”

The day passed slowly after Sukuna wrapped Yuji in clean clothes and sat him out under the sun to dry and warm up. He was busy with his devices during the day leaving the boy to follow him around or play with his own things in his room. Night came quickly and it was no surprise to find Yuji in his room passed out on the bed again. Sukuna did his best to gently move him over only for Yuji to wake up and take hold of his arm.

He was woken up in the middle of the night by Yuji crying “don’t leave me too.” He was holding on tight to his chest and crying, snot dripping onto his chest while he tried to calm him down. “What is now?” He was too disoriented to process what was happening until Yuji started crying harder and trying to explain what happened in his dream. His dad left him in the middle of the night saying he was useless and didn’t love him anymore. And that he was leaving like his mother had. Sukuna was confused, but held him close, rubbing his back, “shh shh shh, I’m not leaving, forget your silly little dreams. I've told you before, that as long as I live I will be here with you.” Yuji sniffled, his tears drying up, and he held on tight to his dad, nodding his head forcing his eyes closed.

Which led to Yuji clinging to Sukuna’s arm that morning, and all day. It was funny to see the “King of Curses” With his arms crossed over his chest and Yuji just hanging there. It was a sight when Sukuan was speaking, making hand motions just to see Yuji being shaken around unintentionally with ease.

The only downside to this was that it lasted all week, meaning in battle Sukuna would take a strong hold of Yuji bringing him to eye level or holding him up higher to assure he was there or constantly in line of sight and out of harm's way.

It had been a long two weeks… “what of another week?” Yuji stood on his dad’s back while he laid face down on his bed, “‘m tall.”

The third week passed slowly with a mix of emotions, Yuji still cried for you at night but would fall asleep faster once his dad would start to smother him into his side. Then the day came when Sukuna needed to tend to business but knowing he couldn’t leave Yuji he took him along. It just happened to be within the hour you made it home. You didn’t expect a greeting party but it was best this way, at least you could actually find a way to rest before having to face Sukuna and tell him everything and how your parents were pushing for you to have a wedding ceremony in your family home.

”Lady y/n! You’ve returned,” Your lady in waiting bowed to you, “Lord Sukuna and the Prince just left. Do you require assistance?” You waved her off, “I’d really just like to sit down with a cup of tea please.” She gave you a soft smile as you followed her through the house and outside. Your little tea table was set up, “I knew you would return today I just hadn’t known when, rest and I’ll steep some tea.” She bowed when you nodded with a smile, “Thank you very much.”

You sat on the cushion feeling relief in your feet as you slipped your shoes off. The sun felt warm and comfortable under the plum blossoms, unlike the cursed heat of your family’s home where they refused to have more than just a few trees. The breeze was soothing as you reclined back against the base of the tree. The smile on your face was soft, thinking about your sister’s wedding. It was chaotic, everyone was happy despite the threat of the wedding being cancelled twice. The comments of how you should’ve married someone so you could also have a wedding in your family home, but now you had decided to go off and marry a curse and live secluded. The comments didn’t bother you, rolling your eyes and always answering with crude comments to match their own.

You laughed to yourself shaking your head as your lady in waiting returned. You talked with her sipping tea, until she left you to sit in peace. You sat there for another hour getting ready to get up and wait for your husbands return until you heard the scream “MMmmoommmmyyyy!!!” You saw a glimpse of his teary eyes and snotty nose when he hugged your legs rubbing his face into the bright red fabric of your robes. You looked down at him, rubbing a hand on his back and the other through his hair, “aw, did my little Yuji miss me?” You looked up at Sukuna who looked visibly relieved, you didn’t miss the faint smile on his lips. Looking back at Yuji he was holding his arms up, you squatted to pick him up and he hugged your neck. Laying his head on your shoulder he sniffled when you placed your hand on the back of his head kissing his forehead whispering to him and he smiled, “missed you mommy.” He turned his head quickly burying his face against your shoulder. You didn’t stop rubbing your hand up and down his back while you carried him in. He didn’t move his face from your shoulder after becoming embarrassed when Sukuna began to tell you everything that happened while you were away.

That night Yuji didn’t let you go, he stuck to your side all night wanting to feel you hugging him again. You weren’t away but Sukuna was aware how frequently Yuji would wake up, his little chubby hand reaching up to just graze your face before he’d yawn and curl up against you to sleep again. He wanted to make sure you were really there with them.

Tag List: soft tag are now called squishy babies :p

@sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks @bofadeezs

@sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd

@simpforyoubitch @domainofmarie @ilovemybabies378 @cyder-puff

Wanna support my shop 🤍

[martiniluvr]

IDK if requests are open but i NEED a Jason Todd hc as a dad

Love yaaa

🎧

they absolutely are ESPECIALLY for dad!jason omg… headcanons under the cut 🩷

also my first emoji anon hi ily 🥹

minors dni

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

jason todd never thought he’d be a father, but now that he is one, he can’t imagine life any other way.

I know in my heart of hearts he’s a girl dad. just picture it. everything about it makes sense.

she inherits his little white streak, and it’s his favourite thing in the world.

he’s determined to be the father he always wanted needed. he’s loving, affectionate, gentle, and fiercely protective of his little girl. from the first time he holds her as a newborn, he knows he’d kill die for her.

there’s no request he can deny his child. donuts after breakfast? of course, he’ll have one too. flashy cartoons before bed? absolutely. playing hair salon before school? he’s dropping her off with butterfly clips still in his white streak.

one day, you get a call from the school about an incident in class that started with a boy breaking her barbie pencil and ended in a bloody nose.

“my daddy told me it’s okay to punch mean people! he says he does it all the time at work.” oops.

you glare at jason, but he can’t hide the proud smile on his face. you apologise profusely to the teacher, ensuring this will be dealt with. as you leave the school, though, jason takes your daughter’s small hand in his, giving it an encouraging squeeze, and you know you can’t be mad for long.

there will come a day when you both have to contend with the challenges of adolescence—prom, parties, mood swings, driving. jason will have to meet her first boyfriend, and he won’t be able to hide his disapproving scowl.

for now, though, you take in the sight of one of gotham’s most feared vigilantes and the pigtailed little girl tugging at his sleeve. he bends down so she can whisper in his ear, and then turns to look at you with a grin. “I think rainbow ice cream sounds great, doll. whaddya think, ma?”

sigh…dad!jason you live in my heart 🫶

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one my, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 4,782

Warning: cursing, asshole Toji, mentions of blood, physical altercations—👀

A/N:The long-awaited part five! This was so satisfying to write. I hope you all enjoy it!! I think we have maybe one part left, maybe two. Omg! 🥹💚, If you want to be in the tag list YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Red. Red was the only color Satoru saw as he dragged his suitcase. He'd never felt so angry! Hurt! Betrayed! The emotions swirled and festered like an infected wound.

He'd let his walls down with you. A mistake he would never make in his life ever fucking again. It didn't matter how desperate a voice would sound on the phone. And it wouldn't matter if he genuinely enjoyed talking to the client or if they gave him the butterflies.

Gojo Satoru would never allow himself to be put into a situation like this again. One where he got hurt. Where he mourned the loss of a girl he barely even knew. A girl that left a scar on him no one would ever see.

The thoughts continued to swell and build up in his mind as he bought himself a hotel room next to the train station. They built up like a typhoon, threatening to destroy everything in its wake, all the way to his room, where he collapsed on the bed. Satoru didn't like feeling this suffocating pain. He needed to distract himself, to talk to one of the only people he trusted in this world.

He needed Suguru.

With a few taps of his finger over his phone screen, Satoru stared at himself, praying his best friend was still up. Which he was. Satoru sighed in relief as Suguru’s face took up the screen. His best friend was propped up in bed, his face dimly illuminated by the lamp on his nightstand. He took one look at Satoru’s face and cocked an eyebrow.

“What happened?”

Satoru chuckled, covering his eyes with his elbow. “Is it that obvious?”

“You just called me three hours ago. You said, and I quote, ‘You’re going to love her. She's got the prettiest eyes. Her skin is fucking flawless. I wanna put her mouth on my mouth.’ end quote.”

“I didn't say that last part!”

“You didn't have to say it, Satoru.” Satoru didn't argue with that. “So, are you going to tell me what happened??”

“I—” he groaned, sitting up, “we, well, ya’ know—”

“Fucked?”

Satoru glared at his only best friend. “No!” Suguru narrowed his eyes. “Well, we didn't go all the way.” God, he wished it had, but he was glad it hadn't.

“Okay? So, did she give you major blue balls? This isn't helping me decipher what happened.”

Although the pain was fresh and stung, Satoru rehashed the night's events. The kiss at the bar, you calling him after Toji showed up, and everything after. From your sudden confidence to the gentle caresses to the intense intimacy between you both. It had been so fierce, raw, and real. Satoru had never experienced kisses and caresses like yours; hell, your touch still lingered as he lay in bed ranting.

All of the chemistry he felt didn’t change the fact that he’d been hurt. He thought you were genuine, that you didn’t want to sleep with him just because of his good looks. Maybe, just maybe, you wanted to sleep with him because you felt the same spark that he did. A spark that would lead to sex, but from there, it might grow into something more! A relationship, the possibility of a future together.

But those stacks of cash changed it all.

The possibilities Satoru had been fantasizing about, wanting, came crashing around him when he counted the bills. You had been so unfazed by it. All you did was check your wallet before pulling out the bag with condoms in it. Your pitiful face when he asked about the money flashed in his mind. You had been incapable of telling him why you had all that money; you just stared blankly at it like you were trying to put two and two together.

Playing around like you didn’t know what was happening had set him off. Why would you have that much money in your purse? Conveniently, it was also the exact amount that he charged for sexual services. Services that Satoru didn’t typically provide. He had been honest with you. He didn’t like having sex with people that he didn’t know, so for him to find all that money, it set him off.

Satoru finished up his story, rubbing his hands through white hair. “So I left, and I missed the last train out. Could you pick me up in the morning? I want to get home as fast as I can.” His blue eyes darted towards his phone screen, where Geto was staring at him like he was an idiot. “What?” Satoru asked, looking at himself on the smaller screen. “Do I have something on my face?” His best friend let out the most extended, most profound sigh in the entire world.

“Are you a fucking idiot?”

“Huh?!”

“I said, are you a fucking idiot?”

Satoru’s eyes narrowed, eyebrows pinching together. “Why the fuck are you asking if I’m an idiot? Are your gauges too big? Did everything I say go through them and not into your ears?” He watched as Suguru rolled his eyes. “I just told you I found all that money in their bag! Right before we did the nasty! I confronted her, she couldn’t explain. That, to me, screams that she’s guilty, Suguru.” He gestured with his hand in front of him as if motioning toward the evidence before his face.

“Did you ever stop and think maybe she couldn’t answer because she was just as confused as you?”

“What?”

Suguru shifted, dark hair falling over his shoulders as he sat up. “Satoru,” he purred, “think about it. She left her bag where anyone could touch it while you two were—preoccupied.” Well, when he put it like that. “And how would you react if you found that much money in your wallet that wasn’t there before?” Satoru remained silent, not saying a word. “You claim she looked guilty because she couldn’t explain it. But what if she truly couldn’t? And you left before even giving her a chance to explain herself.” Yeah, he did; he left you crying at the inn.

Thinking back to how you ran after him, grabbing his arm, stumbling over your feet, would someone guilty do that? Try to explain themselves, beg for him to stop and listen.

“I-I don’t know how it got there, Satoru! Please! Please believe me!”

Your tear-filled eyes, the shuddering tremble in your voice, and the blatant way he’d coldly dismissed your attempts to clear things up had his stomach twisting. The fury that had been fuming deep at his core had blinded him. He didn’t even give you a chance to talk, to explain what had happened.

“I’m so fucking stupid.” He mumbled out, putting his phone down to scrub at his face. “Why didn’t I stop and listen?!”

“Because you like her.” There was something in the tone of Suguru’s voice that had Satoru glancing at his phone. “You genuinely like her Satoru, so when you assumed she just wanted to fuck you just as an escort and not as a potential lover, that broke your heart.” Satoru opened his mouth to argue. “Don’t try to deny it; you just bitched at me for like an hour like some school girl who just got dumped.”

”Fuck you,” Suguru chuckled, knowing Satoru’s words held no heat in them. “So what do I do now? Run back over there, tell her how sorry I am?”

”Well, honestly, if I were in her position, I would slam the door in your face. The whole ‘consider the orgasm, payment for the cancellation of my services’ was fucking harsh.”

”Yeah, not my finest moment.”

“Well, use that Gojo Sator charm and make it up to her.”

After hanging up the phone with Suguru, Satoru plopped down on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. That red-hot rage had faded into regret. He should have listened to you; he should have stopped the second you grabbed his arm. Instead, he pulled away, refusing to listen to what you had to say.

He made you cry like you did when you told him about Toji.

Seeing you that upset had made him sick to his stomach. He thought, what kind of dick makes a girl cry like this? He hated people like that, people that were so cruel. Now the tables had turned, and he was the dick.

God, what are you doing right now? Were you still crying? Maybe you were pacing the room, thinking about what you would do since your wedding date just up and left you. How were you going to explain this to your friends and family? Or were you dreading the pathetic, woeful faces that would be on the faces of your friends and family when you told them he left? You had hired him to make this wedding easier to attend, but he had turned it into an even worse experience for you.

Gojo had been right about you crying. You were curled into a ball on the futon that still smelt like him. Your chest heaved as you screamed into his pillow, gripping it as you let the waves of anguish wash over you, pulling you deeper and deeper into the suffocating waters of despair.

You cried yourself to sleep, waking up with a numbness in your chest as the flashbacks from the night before plagued you. It had been perfect, too perfect. The butterflies, Satoru’s kisses, the pleasure. You felt so good about him, about the two of you, about yourself, to have it come crashing down around you in seconds.

It hurt being yelled at and screamed at and blamed for something you hadn’t done. The rage and betrayal in Satoru’s eyes burned into your mind, and his words sliced so deep into your skin that they touched your soul. You hadn’t been hurt like that since Toji broke up with you, and that had nearly destroyed you. You ran away from the pain, refused to talk to anyone, and stayed in bed for days. Your heart had been broken into a million different pieces, and it took you so long to put it back together. To allow yourself to live your life.

Luckily, your heart was stronger now, scarred and rough. The pain that it had undergone a year before had made it more durable and harder to break. This heartache was not going to destroy you this time around.

Pushing yourself out of bed, you exhaled heavily through your nose before pushing your hair out of your face. You could do this. You didn't need a wedding date to survive the next two days. You were fully capable of getting through this by yourself.

You put on a smile and got ready for your day. Everything hurt, but you would be able to get through it like you had done before. This heartache would not hold you down. You headed into the kitchen, greeting your family as they cleaned dishes from the morning breakfasts that had already been delivered to guests and discussed preparations for the next two nights.

Their voices were white noise as you pulled a bowl of peaches from the fridge. They asked if you were okay if Satoru felt okay since he wasn’t with you. Hearing them say his name stung, but it didn’t stop you from moving, washing peaches, and peeling them as you preheated the oven.

”He left.” You told the truth, not the whole truth, but you weren’t ashamed to tell them he left you. Their reactions varied from confusion and anger to stunned silence and disbelief. “I’ll be okay.” You assured all of them, urging them to go about preparations for the wedding. Right now, all you wanted to do was be alone, to bake the anger and sorrow out of your system.

They granted your wish, leaving you alone in the kitchen. The atmosphere was drastically different from the night before. You giggled and smiled as Satoru stood by your side; those beautiful, captivating blue eyes wandered, watching your hands move. The heat from his gaze alone had the kitchen so hot you thought every oven had been on when they hadn’t. Now, the only warmth that flooded the space was from the oven and stove as you cooked down the peaches in syrup.

You moved unthinkingly, cooking butter into three trays, before setting the stew pot of peaches off to the side. Mind and body numb as you focused on mixing your flour, sugar, and milk in a bowl, you never heard the footsteps behind you. It wasn’t until the timer on your phone went off that you turned, running into a firm chest. You knew the smell of fresh linen masked with musk, and it made you want to throw up.

Satoru rubbed at his neck, glancing down at you. Dark circles were under his eyes as he placed his sunglasses on his head. Even when he looked exhausted, he was still handsome, which irked you.

“Hey.” He spoke softly, like his voice alone would shatter you as if you were a porcelain doll. You said nothing, stepping to the side to turn your timer off. “Can we talk?”

You ignored him, taking out the trays of melted butter from the oven. You put cinnamon, baking powder, and salt into your batter before whisking it bitterly. Satoru moved, gently grabbing your elbow and stopping you from running further away.

“Please.”

“No.” You snapped, pulling away so you could continue to construct the dessert for the rehearsal dinner tonight.

“Sweetie, please.”

“Oh my god!” You slammed the bowl down, turning to shove at Satoru's chest. “You fucking left! You left when I wanted to talk last night!”

“I know I did.”

His eyes never left your face, and his undivided attention only pissed you off more. “Well, guess what? I don’t want to fucking talk now.” Despite your dismissal, Satoru didn’t move. He stayed near your side, watching as your hands moved, putting the peaches on top of the batter. “Don’t you have a train to catch?”

“No, I have a wedding to attend—“

“The fuck you do.”

“You paid for me—“

“And you canceled your services!” Satoru grimaced as you all but threw the trays into the oven. “You paid me with an orgasm, remember?! Because I remember!”

He followed you as you headed to the sink with your dirty dishes. His hand gently grabs your elbow. “Look! Please listen to me.” He took the dishes from your hands, placing them in the sink. “I was an asshole last night, whatever this,” his finger gestures between your bodies, “it’s new and raw and real.” You barked out a laugh. “Stop, please. I messed up; I know I did. And I’m sorry for flipping out on you. But this is worth fighting over; I want to be with you.” His words were regretful; his face matched the panicked pain behind his voice.

That didn’t change the fact he’d hurt you. “Gojo.” The use of his last name had his heart crushed. “You did mess up, you hurt me.” You stepped back, crossing your arms over your chest. “Let’s be honest, this.” You mimicked his finger, gesturing between you. “This is never going to work, not after last night. I had my heart broken once after I was intimate with someone, and you knew that. You knew I didn’t want to have sex. I specified that several times. I put myself out there, out of my comfort zone, because I genuinely liked you. Now, well, let’s be honest: my heart has been broken twice now. So I’m going to ask you to leave.” Satoru swallowed hard, removing his glasses and putting them on the counter.

“Please don’t say that, please.”

“Go.” You pointed to the door, fighting back tears. “I’m not going to ask you again.”

He grips the counter before lifting his head to meet your teary eyes. “Okay,” he reached out, gently brushing away a stray tear, “I’m sorry for breaking your heart.” His gesture had your breath hitching as he turned, heading out of the kitchen with his hands in his pockets.

The moment you were sure he was far enough that he couldn’t hear you, a shaky cry left your lips. You stumbled, your legs no longer wanting to hold you up. How dare he come back and apologize after breaking your heart the night before. If he didn’t apologize, things would have been so much easier for you. You could have grown to hate him, but seeing how upset he looked hearing the pleading tone in his voice, made you want to throw your resolve away to chase after him.

But would a relationship with him work?

He was an escort. People paid him to go out with him. Could you date him, knowing that’s what he did for a living? To be the woman waiting at home for him to come back?

He said he wanted to fight for this, for you and whatever this strange relationship was turning into. He wanted to be with you. So, did that mean he would give up on being an escort? Would he be okay with that? The questions flowed like a steady river through your mind as you sat on the kitchen floor. These were questions you would never get the answers to, all because you sent him away.

Footsteps entered the kitchen as you stared at the floor. You perked up, clenching your fists tight, digging your nails into the palms of your hands. Did Satoru come back? You tilted your head up, tears streaming down your cheeks, to find Toji smirking down at you. The last person on the planet you wanted to see.

”Why are you on the floor?”

”Why won’t you leave me alone?” You snapped as you pushed yourself off the floor.

Toji hummed, leaning over the counter as you went to the sink to clean your dishes. “Because I want to talk to you. But you keep avoiding me.” You threw the whisk into the sink, whirling around.

“You wanna talk? Fine, let’s fucking talk, Toji!” You shrugged a shoulder. “Not that there’s much to talk about, seeing that you’re the one that broke up with me. And last night, you made it painfully obvious that you didn’t want to be with me. So please tell me! What. The. Fuck. Is. There. To. Discuss?!” You screamed, putting both hands on your hips, glaring daggers at the first man who broke your heart.

“Fuck.” He laughed, his eyes trailing up and down your body. “You got feisty in the year that you’ve been away.” When he saw how you glared at him, he held up a hand. “Right, right, fine, I’ll talk.” He straightened his back. “But first, did you enjoy yourself last night?”

His words had your heart dropping into your stomach. “I-I’m sorry?” You asked, hoping that you heard him wrong.

”I asked how your night was. Finally, get dicked down?”

”What?”

”Oh, right, you didn’t know.” He strode forward, grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefingers, forcing you to look into his dark eyes. “After you left, I got a job. I’m a PI, the best in the business.” You felt goosebumps rise against your skin as he leaned beside your ear. “I did a little research into this Gojo Satoru, heir to the Gojo business. It took a little digging, but I eventually found his profile in Escorts4you.com.”

You were frozen in shock and fear. “You knew?” Of course, he knew; he knew something was up the first night.

“To think my ex-fiancée hired a fucking escort to be her date to a wedding. I had a good laugh over it. But when I saw the prices, oof, I know you,” toji squeezed your cheeks, “a pathetic baker from a cafe could never, ever afford to get fucked by a pretty boy like him.”

“W-Wait—“your head spun, “wait, it was you; you put the money in my bag?”

“Ding-ding-ding,” He reached into his pocket, holding another wad of cash towards you. “¥480,000, the money you used to cover rent when I was out of a job.” He put the money on the counter behind you. “I’ve been wanting to pay you back. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“You put—you put the money—“

“But seeing that you were able to buy a high-end escort for an entire week, I figured that maybe you wanted more. So I figured I’d give you half to get the full escort experience.”

“It was you—-“

Toji smirked, gently patting your cheek. “Yep, I found your bag in the kitchen last night. Put half the money in there.” Your ears started ringing as he pulled back. “So tell me, did he fuck you as good as I did? Did he make you scream and cry like me~?” He pulled back, smirking down at you. “Or have I ruined all other men for you?”

Ruined? The only thing he ruined was what you and Satoru had. He fucked this up! It was all because of him!

“You son of a bitch!” You screamed, slapping him across the face. Toji stumbled back, grunting as he cupped his cheek in shock. “Do you know what you did!?” You slapped him again, harder.

“Ow, what?!”

“You ruined everything!” He took several steps back as you grabbed the plastic flour container, throwing it at him, which he dodged. “Yes! I hired Satoru! But I wasn't going to sleep with him!” You tossed a spatula at him, trying to close the distance so you could hit him some more. “But what was supposed to be a job turned into something more! I liked him! I liked him, you asshole!”

Toji dodged a cookie tray, “Well, tell him that!” You rushed forward, slamming your fists against his chest.

“He found the money! And he assumed I was going to pay him to sleep with me!”

“Stop it!” He snarled, grabbing your wrists, forcing you to cease your assault. “Look, I didn’t know you legitimately liked the guy!”

You snapped, yanking your wrists free before kneeing him in the crotch. Toji gasped out, hands reaching down, cupping himself as he stumbled. Vision blurring with tears, you weakly slapped at his shoulders.

“You’re always ruining everything! You broke my heart! I didn’t get to pastry school, and I lost a nice guy because of you!” A gut-wrenching sob made its way through you. “Did you stop to think that maybe I was happy?!”

Your heart was pounding, thundering in your ears as you cried, and cried, and you kept crying as Toji straightened. “Look, I didn’t know it was serious. But if you keep hitting me, we’re going to have a major fuckin’ problem.”

He hissed his vague threat through his teeth. Hearing that only pissed you off more. So you did what anyone else would to the man who broke your heart and kept butting in your life. You pulled your hand back and slapped him as hard as you could. He winced, bangs shielding his eyes as he growled.

When he snapped in your direction, he received another slap. It was when you went in for a third slap that Toji’s hand flew up, grabbing your wrist and squeezing it. He crowded you against the wall, scowling down at your smaller form.

“I told you to stop fucking hitting me!”

“I hate you! Let me go!”

“Are ya’ going to stop hitting me?!”

“No!”

“Then tough shit!”

You kicked at his shins, but he easily avoided you. You were going to kick his ass, beat him into a bloody pulp—once you freed yourself. But all the fight vanished as you saw two ivory fingers tap Toji on the shoulder. He turned around, only to be knocked back by a powerful punch. You stared at Toji, who spit out blood, his gaze locked on the man standing at six-three. Satoru shook his hand, fingers brushing over his knuckles as he glared.

His lip twitched, revealing sharp canines as he stepped forward. “Oh, you think that hurt? Wait until I get a good hit in.” He clenched his fists into tight balls, continuing to close the distance between them.

“Oh, you don’t wanna fuck with me. I’ll fuck up your face so bad you’ll never get a ‘client’ again.”

“Why you—”

“Wait!” You yelled out, jumping between the two men and holding your arms out. “Stop! Stop it!”

Satoru looked down at you as if you’d lost your mind, his momentum stopping. Toji kept moving until your fingers grazed his chest. With a deep sigh, you looked up at Satoru, giving him a gentle smile, one that had his cheeks flushing.

“I got this.” the softness of your voice was the only convincing he needed. With a curt nod, he crossed his arms over his chest as you turned to look into Toji’s eyes. “You have fucked with my life for the last time.”

“Oh really?”

“Yep!” You grinned wide and warmly before punching him directly in the nose. “Try that shit again! I dare you! I fuckin’ dare you!!”

“Oooh!” Just as you went in for another punch, you were picked up, and Satoru carried you out of the kitchen. “Easy there, I don’t want you getting arrested.”

You flailed in his arms, “I’m serious, Fushiguro!” Your ex groaned, cupping his hands over his bleeding nose as you jammed your finger at him. “That was the last time you’ll ever interfere with my life!” You glanced over your shoulder, watching Satoru grab his forgotten sunglasses off the counter before heading down the hall.

“Oh!” You heard your mother squeak out as Satoru passed them. “What’s going on? I thought you said Satoru left!”

Satoru grinned, turning to face her as he passed. “Me leave her?” He shifts, throwing you over his shoulder. “I’m not making that mistake again.” You squeak as he bounds down the hall.

“W-Wait, the cobblers! Mom, take them out of the oven!”

The halls were a blur as Satoru carried you to the room you both had shared. Only once inside, he gently places you down, taking several steps back, giving you space. You remained silent, nursing the hand you had punched Toji with.

“Do you want some ice?” Satoru said softly, eyes following you as you sat down on the futon, thumb rubbing over your red knuckles.

“No.”

You could hear him wince at your stiff tone. “Are you sure?” He slowly approached you, not moving too fast, as if you would bolt if he did. “It could make baking hard if you don’t take care of it.” Your heart slowly crawled up your throat as he sat before you, crossing his legs.

“You know what I want?” Satoru inhaled slowly, holding it for the briefest of moments before exhaling.

“No, what is it you want?”

You slowly lifted your head, eyes locked on his. He was stiff, pulse visible in his throat as he waited for you. Seeing him like this, like a child waiting to be reprimanded, had you swallowing hard as you opened your mouth, the words leaving Satoru’s eyes wide as he rocked back at your request.

“You want what?”

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