#i don’t like it just because i don’t think it suited me. it wasn’t even for trans reasons

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

get off the floor, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You order Jeon Jungkook to get off the floor. He says, "Make me." You make him. Eventually.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; tipsy, bratty (needy) JK; wedding guests reader and JK hooking up in a random corner room bc they can no longer contain themselves, gasp; semi-public smut (fem dom!reader + sub!JK, JK becomes half-undressed while reader is still fully dressed, slight degrading talk (not really), heavy making out, dry humping) basically, I was staring at this photo and had thoughts

--

“Get off the floor.”

“Make me.”

Once again. No stranger to this supreme annoyance, and yet knowing that did not make it bearable. You looked down at him. Was he drunk? He stared off to the side. Looked moodier than anything. Trying to play it cool, perhaps. You caught him glancing and you stepped back, smoothing the high slit of your deep purple evening gown.

“That suit costs way too much to be on the ground,” you attempted again, his black blazer over your bare shoulders.

Jeon Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you.

“Don’t care.”

You could feel your patience running thin. Not new, just like all of Jungkook’s antics. You felt his eyes travel up from your legs to your waist to your chest. When he got to your face, you gave him an unimpressed frown. If he hadn’t been drinking, he would have the good sense to look away. But he had, so he just ticked his head as if he wasn’t laying down in the middle of a random offshoot room in a very nice hotel. There was no one around. Time of night and because this wing had been rented for the wedding that was still going on in the main ballroom.

“You’re going to get in trouble,” you warned.

His dark eyes caught the low lights of the art deco sconces on the walls.

“Get on top of me.”

This was precisely why you had considered skipping this wedding. But, alas, common sense pulled through. You had not come with a plus one because you didn’t have one. Jungkook had not arrived with a plus one either even though you were quite sure he could have secured one. He was probably thinking the same of you as well. The look on his face when you strode in and greeted the couple was enough to encourage some of the guests to mysteriously begin herding you and him in close proximity. You couldn’t blame them. Playing matchmaker was bound to happen if a woman attended such a social event alone.

You just didn’t think the lucky man would be Jeon Jungkook.

You narrowed your eyes. His eyes lowered to half-moons. His lips parting. The two silver rings gleamed on the right edge of his lower lip.

“Don’t play this game.”

The tip of his pink tongue flitted against his lip rings.

“I’ve been wanting to play your game for a while now,” Jungkook breathed, his low voice vibrating in his chest.

You could still hear the bass of the music. One step. The heel of your pumps clicked loudly against the tile floor. His black three-piece suit had been perfectly tailored to him. There was no need for additional shape because his body lines were already ideal. His black hair had been carefully slicked back. Nothing to hide behind. Another step. His black vest and crisp white shirt were tight enough to his chest that you could witness the way his breath hitch lifted his upper torso. You looked down, then pointedly back up at his face, reminding him that his tight slacks made everything obvious.

He bit the side of his lip.

With a casual lift of your slinky skirt, you stepped over him, and then re-draped the dark violet fabric over his lower torso. One foot on each side of his hips. He must have expected you to refuse, as you already had many times before. He immediately froze, his startled eyes widening. In your defense, he had previously been more subtle and annoying about it rather than direct. You reached up, maintaining eye contact with Jungkook, and twisted your wrist, hooking two fingers on the collar of his blazer around your shoulders, pulling it away from your body to reveal skin.

You dropped it on the floor, away from your bodies.

The fitted gown had a soft sweetheart neckline with thin straps that framed your collarbones. A simple white gold chain necklace with a tiny round-cut diamond nestled at the base of your neck. The straps crossed over to your exposed lower back. The medium-weight fabric was tailored to skim over your curves. Princess seams accentuated your shape from chest to hips before opening up to wispy high slits that were only obvious when you walked or stood with more weight to one side. Demure if you stood straight, which you mostly did. Wasn’t your wedding after all. Your hair was down, smoothed down at the right, covering enough of your back to uphold the illusion of modesty. Unfortunately, as night approached, you had found yourself quite cold. The air conditioning had been turned high to accommodate for all the dancing bodies.

That wasn’t the trajectory of the night for you, though.

Instead of the dance floor, you and Jeon Jungkook were now somehow in deserted offshoot room with chairs on tables. Probably reserved for additional seating just in case any additional guests tried to squeeze in at the last minute. Certainly not reserved for a raunchy rendezvous.

You lifted an eyebrow.

“Scared?” you taunted, looking down at him.

His wrists were against the floor by his shoulders. You saw his fingers twitch, but he did nothing to move further.

“Ravage me already,” Jungkook exhaled. Hot and heavy and hiding desperation. “I can’t take this.”

You had been well-acquainted with him and a while now. You ran the tip of your pointed heel against his side. Jungkook shuddered. He didn’t move to touch you. You backed off. The real problem with all this was not the friendly terms you both had, but rather the fact that he had caught you in a rather dubious place some nights ago. Neither you nor him should have been there. In fact, you made it a point to travel far enough so you wouldn’t run into anyone, which you presumed was also the exact reason Jungkook ended up in the same place.

You squatted down, tilting your head at him in a predatory way.

The skirt of your dress pooled over his abdomen.

As you came close to Jungkook’s level, you heard his breathing shallow.

You took a short moment to collect your dress accordingly before dropping to one knee. And then the other. Straddling him, but not quite touching. Your fingertips touched the ground. He smelled like faint musky spice. You lowered over him, until your hands were just under his upper arms.

Looked down.

Jungkook stared at you from below, trapped in your shadow.

“You really did see me at the BDSM club that night,” you murmured. “Didn’t you?”

You raised your right hand and closed it around his left wrist, pinning it to the ground. He sucked in a tight breath, the gravity of the situation seemingly sinking in although it didn’t seem like he was rushing to stop you.

“Your ass looked so fucking good,” he whispered in the dark. “I knew it was you.”

You bent your left elbow, descending to his face.

“Someone will find us.”

At your reminder, he bit his lower lip in that fuck-me-harder kind of way. Then you felt movement. His right hand snaked between you and him. Your eyes flickered down. His dress shirt was fastened all the way to his neck. He looked sharp. Conventionally handsome. The only things he couldn’t hide was his facial piercings and the tattoos on his hand. Hand tattoos were a big faux pas to most. You liked a rule-breaker though. Unfortunately. Jungkook’s deft fingers traced the pressed collar of his shirt.

You watched him undo the first pearlescent button.

Then the second.

Your lips parted to warn him to stop, but the third was already coming undone and you could hear the desire in his erratic breath drifting upwards. Then it was eyes-to-eyes, devouring you with false innocence, and you opened your mouth to trace your lips with the tip of your tongue, taunting him with the glistening void.

“Fuck…” he whispered, trembling under you.

And then you stopped his hand by fully pressing your body against his chest, your clothed breasts against his naked pecs. Flitted your tongue over his lip rings, tasting his moan before hearing it. He turned his head, trying to chase it, but you feathered kisses over his cheek, gripping his left wrist as you licked his ear, hearing the whine of your name tickling yours.

“P-Please…”

You avoided him that night at that club, hoping he hadn’t recognized you, causing every subsequent interaction making it painfully clear to you that he had indeed seen you strutting your stuff in black latex while teasing strangers with your leather crop. Surprisingly, not in the way of trying to use such information against you, which was what you expected, but rather in the way the tempted drive the tempters insane. In imploring looks that only you could know. In too many chances of being too close in proximity. You don’t know how he did it, but now for some reason everyone was delicately suggesting to you to, perhaps, give him a chance. It only strengthened your want to teach him a lesson. You savored the rising panic in his voice as you bit the curve of his ear and toyed with him with your tongue. His trapped hand turned and you felt his palm mold to your lower ribs, sliding up. You bit down. He gasped, biting back a moan as his fingertips ghosted the curve of your breasts.

“Ah…. D-Don’t…” Whimper so close to his heart that only you could hear it. “My e-ear is… is sensitive, a-ah…”

You smiled, pressing your lips to his earlobe. His earrings were warming from your breath and saliva.

“Is that why you have so many piercings, huh?”

You made sure he could feel your lips move as you purred filthy nothings.

“What a pain slut you are.”

This time he truly moaned, his hips rising, and then abruptly cut himself off to avoid rising volume.

“D-Don’t…”

You sank down. Pressed against him, and even though the layers you could feel his erection throb, his entire body shivering when your weight dispersed over his lower body. His fingertips traced the dip in between your breasts. Your tongue circled over his ear once more before kissing up to his temple, the fingers of your other hand creeping up the side of his neck, and then you made out with Jeon Jungkook, right there on the floor with his groan vibrating the inside of your throat as you slowly thrusted your tongue into his lips. He did his best to suck and you always pulled away at the last second, using one finger to trace the muscle of his neck down to his collarbones.

You broke the kiss.

His lips were glossy and flushed.

“Please… Don’t stop,” he begged, squeezing your breast. “Don’t stop…”

The inaudible music continued to hum in the background.

You placed two fingers on his chin and pushed his head back, giving you access to his throat. For a brief moment, you considered making your mark, but instead you trailed your tongue down, down, painting possessive saliva onto his warm skin. His body rose. You let go of his wrist to pull open the sides of his shirt, realizing he was undoing his vest at the same time as his chest became fully exposed to the air, his dark nipples hard. You flicked your tongue against them, an involuntary ripple seizing his torso at the heated contact. Licked all over, enjoying the scent and taste of his skin. He silenced a cry as you bit down.

“H-Harder…”

You rose slightly, grazing your tongue against his skin before doing so.

“Be quiet.”

And then you roughly pinched his other nipple.

His arm flew up and he screamed behind clenched jaw, his hips lifting from the floor and his erection colliding with the inside of your thigh. You let out a light hum, sliding up his hard thighs. Your dress was already bunching around your waist. With a sweep of your skirt, your barely-there panties came into view. His attentive eyes immediately went down to the matching skin-toned thong barely covering your pussy, tricking him for just a moment, and then you saw the disappointment flutter into a slight frown.

“Did you expect me to be naked?” you mused.

He tried to cover himself with indifference. “No.” His needy gaze and raging boner gave him away.

You smiled.

And held the front of your skirt out of the way, rocking your hips forward to rub your panties against his clothed cock. Jungkook gasped, staring back at your relaxed expression with wide eyes, unsure where to look. You put a little more force into it, increasing the friction and molding his hardness to the soft dip between your legs, and you saw his eyelids flutter, his dark eyes rolling back, a contained moan escaping his chest.

You talked down to him, because you could tell he liked it.

“You thought I wouldn’t have panties and I would just ride you in a public place with no remorse or shame?”

Tension began to show through his muscles. He had one arm on his forehead and the other against the black-and-white tile floor, using subtle leverage to grind against you. He wasn’t obstructing his vision though, still very obviously staring at your thighs, the dip towards your pussy, watching the hem of your panties press into your skin with each movement.

“I… oh, fuck, I don’t k-know…” He panted, his shadowed eyes roaming back to your face. “Maybe.”

You laid your free hand on the waistband of his slacks, tracing his belt. You watched him hold his breath, his chest tight and oh-so-delectable. Slowly, you hooked your fingers under his belt. Gripped it, and changed the angle of your thrusting so that the head of his cock was rubbing against the radiating heat of your pussy, giving him a better view of your thin panties digging into your slit.

You saw his teeth sink into his lower lip.

“F-Fuck…”

His eyes slid shut and he moaned your name, sensual and deep and far too practiced for it to be a closed secret, his hips pushing back up against you, trying to get more and unable to do so. Frustration. Need. Craving. All bleeding into his expression. Against better judgement, you could feel it too, the irresistible pull of barely enough, the desire to tease turning into wetness between your legs, slowly but surely perfuming the air with your sweet, musky arousal.

Jungkook opened his eyes and stared up at you, imploring softly.

“P-Please…”

His arm lifted from his forehead and his other hand raised, fingertips stroking your thighs while using his shoulder blades for leverage. Forceful and precise. You let go of his belt and traced the knuckles of one of his hands, feeling the restrained strength in his touch. He sank his fingers into your thighs, gasping, pressing the back of his head onto the floor and arching his back. His open shirt. His exposed muscular chest. His tan skin faintly glistening with sweat. His throat begging for a bite.

You raked your nails down his abs, forcing Jungkook to lustfully grown to the ceiling.

You smirked.

“Get up.”

With minimal effort, Jungkook lifted his torso off the ground, frowning at you for asking him to be reasonable. His palms pressed into your thighs, ensuring that you continued to straddle him even though you had no intention of moving. In fact, you drew your knees together, pinning him in between your thighs. A few black strands had dislodged from their places and draped over his furrowed brows.

“Was that so difficult?” you murmured with lowered lashes, walking your nails up his chest.

His hands were sliding up towards your hips under your skirt. “Yeah.” He squeezed your ass with his strong grip while staring into your eyes. “I’ve been wanting to get you out of this dress for hours.”

“Hm.”

You gave him an unimpressed look as you felt his fingertips glide down. He pulled outwards ever-so-slightly. From below, out of sight, your pussy lips parted with a wet sucking sound.

Jungkook moaned against your cheek, pressing his naked chest against your clothed breasts.

“Come on… Please…”

You hand had migrated to his side, steadily scratching his lower back.

“Very reckless and dangerous of you.”

He glanced at you with those half-moon eyes filled with stars of longing.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want me to be,” Jungkook whispered hotly. “Brushing up against me by accident when I already told you that you look too damn hot. Teasing me every time I look down by showing off your legs even more.” His mouth brushed against the side of yours. You could faintly feel his lip rings. “You’re mean.”

You sat on top of his still-hard cock and purred, “I don’t recall doing such things,” before lightly bouncing on top of it.

He gasped and you sucked away his exhale, pulling back before he could kiss you.

“Let me,” he breathed out.

His hands came up to cradle your back as you arched your spine and then you sighed out, his soft kisses fanning over your décolletage, tucking his tongue between your breasts and licking upwards, his eyelids fluttering in bliss from the taste of your perfumed skin.

“Please, let me…”

Your arms around his neck. You had not intended to fuck Jeon Jungkook tonight but, then again, that was easy to think when he hadn’t looked at you with those perfectly desperate eyes yet. Nor had he yet pushed the top of your ass down to collide with his hard dick still fighting his pants, implying just how well you would fit together. Until right now that is. You smiled, leaning back into his warmth.

“At least button your shirt so you don’t startle the hotel staff with your sexy body.”

His ears flushed bright red. You shot him an amused look as he fumbled about.

“And what if there was a camera in here, hm? Recording your depravity,” you mused, appreciating the view.

“I don’t mind,” he mumbled to his chest. His ears remained red.

“I see. But if I compliment you, you become embarrassed.”

Jungkook avoided your gaze. “N-No…”

You hooked a finger under his chin and yanked him back up, confronting those big, dark brown orbs. He looked taken aback, almost afraid of what you would say next.

“I can’t wait to have you under me,” you whispered. “I’ll make you show me how talented you are at begging.”

He moaned into your mouth as you kissed him deeply, pulling him into your possessive embrace.

--

drabbles masterpost | masterpost

[emphistic]

Deja Vu

A/N: Bury Me at Makeout Creek

<- series m.list

And autumn comes when you’re not yet done

With the summer passing by, but

I don’t think I could stand to be

Where you don't see me

Sukuna had fallen in love with a war, when nobody told him it had ended.

Broken bottles and fallen chairs and shredded papers decorated the already messy floor. Sukuna’s apartment was a battlefield, and so was his mind. He simply just didn’t get it. . . Sukuna was the moon, when you wanted the stars. And for that very reason, he had lost everything.

He had no other reason to stay, no ulterior motive. And he certainly wasn’t wrong when he said there was no reason for the two of you to continue the fake relationship.

Sukuna was hurt. He had come to terms with it long ago. You didn’t love him, for he was merely a “token of luck” for you, and that was all there was to it. But, at the same time, he wanted you to be happy. And if he needed to leave for that to happen, he would. Still, he couldn’t help the thought that came into his mind, that he hoped—no, wanted—you to be happier with him, rather than with Naoki Ito. 

Was he foolish for thinking he was more of the man you needed, compared to Naoki?

Fuck. He was hurt, and he was far from coming to terms with it.

Sukuna often found himself asking why he loved you. And every single time, he was left with no answer. Why? Why did he love you? Even after you tore his heart out, and ripped it to shreds, without even knowing it yourself, he still loved you.

Vulnerability. A noun, as said by Oxford Languages, meaning “the quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally.” It was an emotion Sukuna showed once every blue moon. Yet, with you, it seemed the opposite. You were a special girl to Sukuna. One which he had known since childhood. The thought of him having to let your memories merely fade away to the past was unbearable.

Sukuna hated you so much. But in his world, love and hate were so similar, that he knew not the line which crossed between them. It was blurry. It was foggy. But it definitely couldn’t be non-existent, right?

That fateful day, after Sukuna exited your kitchen, he walked back into the living room, told the two cousins on the couch he was called into work, and simply left. You only knew this, because, when you came back into the living room, soon after wiping away stray tears on the sleeve of your sweater and splashing your face with cold water, Naoki and Eileen were quick to question you.

“Why did it take so long?”

“Does microwaving popcorn really take almost ten minutes?”

You had missed the beginning of White Chicks, but it didn’t matter much to you, you had already seen the movie quite a few times before. And, taking everything into account, an American 2000s comedy film probably wasn’t enough to get rid of the prominent tear stains on your pillow that very night.

Naoki had asked you if he could stay the night, using traffic as an argument, and even going as far as to suggest the idea of using your spare bedroom, but you outright rejected him. Saying the traffic near you wasn’t usually as bad on Saturdays as on other days.

Of course, that was a lie. Your street was busier than most locations, and still, you didn’t feel an ounce bad for making up a mere fib. You just couldn’t bear the thought of another man taking up the bed previously used by a notorious man with pink hair. Your heart wasn’t taken by Naoki, and your bed wouldn’t be, either.

Eileen exited your apartment after the movie ended, followed suit by her male cousin. The blonde left without a word to you, save for a small mumble of “Good night”, but that was it.

You didn’t know why you felt so empty inside. Everything that happened, happened because of you. You said yes to being Naoki’s girlfriend, and you told Sukuna that you two should end the fake relationship; you were the sole puppeteer. And yet, you felt like a doll attached to the strings.

Everything played out the way you made it, but none of it played out how you wanted it.

Confusion. Guilt. Regret.

Three emotions that hung heavy in your heart.

The whole two weeks you spent with Sukuna, you spent making a grave mistake. You thought of no one but yourself. The arranged relationship? Was for your benefit: to lift the curse. Sukuna? Was your pawn: did everything you suggested. Naoki? Was your opportunity to experience making macaroni with someone.

Was I always this selfish? you asked yourself, while laying in bed one night. It was quiet in the apartment, save for the distant grumble of your fridge, and the wind blowing against your curtains, and the sheets rustling every time you shifted in bed, unable to fall victim to Hypnos.

The thought process behind your poorly executed actions was simply that you had too much on your plate. You were in two relationships at once. But your heart was in one spot. And that confused you. What you’ve always wanted since childhood now seemed dull and insignificant. Was this what you really wanted?

You couldn’t continue the relationship with Sukuna because you had to end the one with Naoki first. And, speaking of which, you had no clue why you took up being Naoki’s girlfriend. Maybe you couldn’t bring yourself to decline someone who seemed so innocent. It just didn’t feel right.

But, at the same time, as you laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling with an arm beneath your head, you couldn’t help feeling sick to your stomach. These weren’t butterflies, this feeling wasn’t love. You were wrong. You were so, so wrong. You should’ve never even gotten yourself into this mess in the first place. And now, instead of only hurting yourself, you were hurting not one, but two other people. Two people who didn’t deserve what you were putting them through.

-

When Naoki grabbed your hand, you almost instinctively pulled it away, clearly not used to another man’s touch other than . . . Sukuna’s. . . Fuck.

It was the weekend, and you were ice skating with Naoki. It was a simple outing, an activity you found yourself having taken a liking to, and you should’ve been enjoying it. But . . . you weren’t. You couldn’t help yourself drifting off to the thought of Sukuna. He promised to teach you hockey when winter came; the weather would be colder, and the only warmth you could gather was from his hand intertwined with your own.

But winter seemed so far, and so impossible, that you almost threw away any dream you previously dreamt, and simply bit your tongue.

Your gloved hand shakingly took up Naoki’s, as the two of you glided across the ice at a moderate pace. Your bottom lip trembled, and you clumsily skated, nearly knocking into other couples on the ice as the both of you went on and on and on.

“I’m not really good at this, as you can probably tell,” Naoki began, “but you seem to know what you’re doing.”

“My . . . friend taught me; I told you, remember? He is—he was a good teacher,” you mumbled, turning your head away from Naoki’s.

A friend. That’s what Sukuna was to you for two decades. A companion, a neighbor, a comeade, someone you could trust. Sukuna was a friend. And now, he was but a stranger, whose face you could only hold on to in your dreams.

In the past, mainly when you were a little younger, you had dreams about people that didn’t exist (Well, that’s what you concluded). You could never remember their faces when you woke up, it was always a blur; a fuzzy, distinct memory that often seemed like a mere figment of your imagination.

That’s how the name Sukuna Ryomen felt to you now. Hearing it made your heart drop to your stomach, and you always looked around your surroundings to see if you could spot his unruly, pink hair, that you loved so much—yet not enough to keep—so that you could bring him back, and tell him how stupid, and how much of an idiot you were back there.

You knew Sukuna wouldn’t like it if you did that, he wouldn’t want you to pull him back into the tide. But fuck, you were a selfish person, who wanted nothing more than to do just that.

Naoki smiled, “Right. I forgot. . . Anyway, let’s go sit down somewhere. I heard there’s ice cream here, y’know.”

You turned back to Naoki. “Oh, really? That sounds nice, we should try it.”

“We should.”

“I didn’t take you for a chocolate person.”

You laughed. “Really? How do you mean?”

Naoki shrugged, a subtle smile on his lips. “. . .The reason Sukuna left that night . . . surely wasn’t just because of work, right?”

Did he know? Did Sukuna tell him? Did you accidentally tell him at one point? There was no way he could’ve found out on his own. You’ve never told a soul other than Sukuna about the “curse” and you certainly never told anyone about the arranged relationship. So then, how. . ?

Before you could ask any questions, Naoki beat you to it. “You don’t have to lie. Lying too much is . . . a bad habit to have. I’m sure you would know.” Naoki’s smile wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold. It was a smile of acceptance; he had learned everything he needed to learn.

You weren’t going to outright confess everything in a shopping mall to a man you didn’t know as well as you thought you did, and you sure as hell weren’t going to talk about how you felt about Sukuna, but you didn’t see the point in trying to hide the fact that you and Naoki shouldn’t be together anymore. You had lied for so long. To Sukuna. To Naoki. And to yourself.

Furrowing your brows, you sighed a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “I’m sorry. You’ve been so nice and such a great listener, and I’ve. . . I’ve been . . . just me,” you shakily inhaled before continuing. “Naoki, I’m sorry. You’re great, you’re a wonderful guy, and I’m glad I got to spend the time I spent with you. I’m just—I. . . Everything is moving so fast for me, and I’ve been nothing but a huge dick to everyone around. It’s just. . . It’s complicated, and I. . .” Your voice trailed off, as you felt your eyes get wet. Crying in public was definitely a first for you. And today would not be the day.

“Look, I may not understand everything that’s going on, but I see everything going on. And I know, if we stay together any longer, you’ll spend the rest of your time as my girlfriend searching for another person in me that . . . doesn’t exist,” Naoki sighed. “I can assure you of that much.”

“Nao. . .” Your eyes softened as you peered into the copper-haired man’s face, but his head was casted downwards, and his bangs covered his eyes. You could barely see his mouth move as he spoke to you with a quiet voice.

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry. I . . . feel sorry for you, actually, that you had to bury your feelings for so long. That’s probably the only part I can sympathize with you on. But. . . I tried, I really tried. But ‘like’ and ‘love’ are very different things. And the difference between what we feel for each other is very prominent,” Naoki added, saying your name with a dull tone.

“. . .Naoki, I really, really wish we could’ve met when I was more mature. When I was a lot less confused, and a lot more . . . together, composed, I’m not sure. But, it’s been . . . a time. A ride. A chapter. But maybe, it was the wrong chapter. The wrong book, even,” you tried joking; “. . .I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Naoki Ito. You deserve so much better, but I can’t give you much better, and I will always be forever regretful of that.”

Naoki nodded. “I know. I know you’re full of regrets. But we’re in our twenties, and we have the rest of our lives to live. As much I miss this, as much as I miss you, I know there’s more for me out there. And there’s more for you out there, if you put your mind to it. It’s . . . embarrassing to spend the rest of your life hung up on heartbreak. I’ll tell you that.

“You’re a beautiful, exceptional girl. Being with someone you don’t love, and putting on a mask all day, isn’t your fate. I’m not going to hold you back from what you really want. So, this is goodbye.”

You walked home, soon after. With a heavy heart in your hand, that still beat for someone miles away. Huh, being selfish was so strange.

-

It’s a quarter after one, I’m a little drunk, and I need you now. 

Said I wouldn’t call, but I’ve lost all control and I need you now

And I don’t know how I can do without, I just need you now

You weren’t planning on spending the rest of your night drunk out of your mind, but being spontaneous was pretty much your thing at this point.

Alcohol is known to affect your brain. According to an article you read: It’s a depressant, which can disrupt the balance of neurotransmitters in your brain, affecting your feelings, thoughts, and behavior. In summary, alcohol affects the part of your brain that controls inhibition, so feeling relaxed, less anxious, or more confident after a drink is always a definite possibility.

In your apartment, you had a classy collection of drinks to choose from. But, maybe it was a mistake for Sukuna to supply you with his favorite bottle of beer, because that’s all you wanted now. You didn’t drink beer very often, but it burned especially good when it was accompanied by the feeling of longing for a man so far away.

Blinking back tears, your shaking fingers clumsily dialed a number you could only manage to remember when you were half-asleep and in need of comfort. You usually held the phone up to your ear, but this time, you put the call on speaker. You had nothing to lose, after all. You were alone, with the stars and moon, and your dignity.

The call was answered within two rings, and you wasted no time in saying, “Sukuna, I—I. . . I don’t know what to—hic—do. I need—”

You would’ve gone on and on about how sorry you were, and how much you needed him, but the drunk version of you had an incredibly flexible mind. And when Sukuna cut you off before you could say those three formidable words, and asked, “What did you have to drink?” you immediately forgot about what you were going to say before.

Your excitement for hearing Sukuna’s voice after what seemed like a millenium couldn’t be contained, and your heart felt ten times lighter. Blinking, your reply came almost instantly. “Just—just a few beers. Why . . . do you ask?”

Sukuna hummed from the other line. “Not in a mood for Chardonnay, I take it?”

“N-no,” you furrowed your brows, chewing on your bottom lip. “I wanted something that reminded me of you. I wanted to drink your favorite drink. . . And, when I opened the bottle, it felt like I could feel your hands on it from the last time you opened it for me. I wish—”

“Those things are tough. Why didn’t you just use a bottle opener?”

“I don’t like bottle openers. I like when you used to open bottles for me,” you nearly burst out sobbing, which was just utterly insane, considering the bittersweet smile you had on your face. “I . . . miss y—”

“I know you do, and, to be frank, that just makes me feel a lot better about everything. I mean, why wouldn’t you miss me? I gave you what you’ve always wanted, I lifted your stupid fuckin’ curse, I’m—I’m basically your Lord and Savior, now,” joked a laughing Sukuna. He was frustrated, so frustrated. Because, despite it all, he still fucking loved you. Even after you broke his heart. Even after you unconsciously made him relapse. None of that mattered, because you were you, and Sukuna would always love that.

Drunk You didn’t understand any of what Sukuna was saying, and so you ultimately dismissed his words. Your voice softened as you added, “I’m—I’m worried. I . . . don’t want other memories to replace ours. I miss our cooking nights together, Sukuna. I really miss—”

“Do you miss having someone to make macaroni and cheese with, or do you miss me?”

“. . .Is there a right answer to that?” You laughed mindlessly, taking another swig from your glass.

“There’s a right answer to everything, if you put your heart to it. Go to sleep, sweetheart. There’ll be alka-seltzer in your cabinet when you wake up.”

-

You awoke the next morning with an empty bottle in your hand, prominent eye bags, and a bad back, because you had slept on the couch that night before. Your first thought was to go back to sleep, but you decided against that, and stalked around the apartment like a zombie in search of brains, until you found a box of hangover relief in your cabinet. I didn’t put that there, you thought, but you took the tablets anyway.

Hangovers didn’t wait for anyone, and you definitely weren’t going to question a miracle from God.

“So, what’s up? We haven’t hung at your place in a while; it looks nice.” Yuuji had arrived at your door fifteen minutes after you told him you needed someone to confide in. He was a naturally very nosy person, but something told you his speed was because he wanted to help a friend out.

“I need advice,” you said, setting two cups of coffee on the table. You clearly hadn’t learned your lesson on the harm in inviting a friend over to your apartment for drinks, except this time, you would finally be sober.

“Yeah, you look like you need advice. Sorry, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but, you look like shit.”

“Uh huh. I feel like shit, too. It’s been a rough two weeks since I last heard from you. There’s a lot we need to catch up on,” you laughed, taking a sip from your mug.

“Spill.”

“I fucked your brother.”

There was a pregnant pause. Yuuji couldn’t even look you in the face, not because he was surprised—spoiler alert: he wasn’t—but because he simply wasn’t expecting you to be so frank. You? Sukuna? Why did no one tell him anything? Were you asking for advice about getting into a real relationship with Sukuna? Or were you two past that, and looking to get married?

“. . .Deadass. . ?”

“. . .No, I’m just kidding. But, we did . . . kiss. And, we did date, but it wasn’t. . . It was casual, it was just—I don’t know. It was fake. Okay, it was fake. That’s—that’s what it was.”

“And I take it, you wanted it to be real?”

Yuuji could be so smart sometimes, you mentally laughed.

“That’s the thing, Yuuji. I do, but I also don’t. But I do, but. . . I need advice, okay.”

“Duh. Tell me from the beginning.” Yuuji situated himself in a comfortable position, with his legs crossed on your table, and his arms resting on the back of the couch. He had a feeling he was going to be here for a long time.

You hesitantly started by explaining your curse. And how it’s been a dream of yours since forever to be able to make macaroni and cheese with someone you loved. But, you just never had an opportunity to do that, because you couldn’t get a partner who liked macaroni and cheese like you did.

“So, one day, when I was especially bored, and Sukuna was over at my place, I told him all of what I just told you. And, I brought up my idea on how I could get rid of my ‘curse’ and, surprisingly, he agreed to it. We would get into a fake relationship—because he liked macaroni and cheese—and cross our fingers and pray that the gods above would lift my curse and grant me a boyfriend who fit my rubric.”

Yuuji looked conflicted. “But Sukuna doesn’t like. . . Never mind, continue.”

“Later that night, we went out for drinks at a bar. I ran into a friend of mine, Eileen Mifune, and coincidentally, she was with her cousin, Naoki Ito. He’s, like, this super adorably dorky guy. Copper hair, super shy when we first met, you get the vision. But, yeah. We exchanged numbers, since I thought he was a nice guy, y’know?”

Yuuji nodded, completely engaged in your story.

“The next day, Sukuna and I watched Pride and Prejudice—”

“Let me guess, Sukuna was being a dick about the movie and everything in it?”

“Bingo. So, we watched Pride and Prejudice. Or, at least, we tried to. Uhm. . . Some things came up, and we may or may not have gotten a bit carried away and started. . . We kissed. Like, a lot. And I liked it. I really liked it.”

“Is that the conflict?”

“No, there’s more. We were interrupted by Naoki calling me, and he was asking to see me. Wanted me to show him around the city, or something. Did I mention he was looking for a place to stay? Sorry. But, anyway, I agreed.

“We were walking to a restaurant I knew, since he doesn’t have a car, when out of the blue, it started raining. We agreed to walk back to my place, since the restaurant was still a lot farther, and we ended up making macaroni and cheese together.”

“Like you’ve always wanted? Isn’t that a good thing, then?”

“. . .It should’ve been. Moving on, the next day, I invited Sukuna over, and I proposed that we should start seeing other people, since, at the time, I thought Naoki was interested in me, and that I was interested in him. Sukuna ended up agreeing.

“We told the cousins we had simply lost interest in each other, and I started going on dates with Naoki. We hung out pretty often. And, from what I’ve assumed, Sukuna did the same with Eileen.

“Some time later, I invited Sukuna over, and we made macaroni and cheese while he told me the story of that catastrophic Thanksgiving dinner you guys had. My condolences to Choso, by the way,” you added.

“Ohh, yeah, that.” Yuuji scratched the back of his neck. “I still feel bad about that.”

“Uh huh. Anyway. . . Oh! I found out he watched Sausage Party!”

“For real? I’ve been nagging him for years, though, so can’t say I’m surprised.”

“We kissed . . . after eating the mac n’ cheese, and he stayed the night.

“The next day, I invited Naoki over. He asked me to be his girlfriend, and. . . I said yes, because I didn’t know what else to say, to be honest. And, it did feel like I was obligated to. I’m just. . . I’m really confused, Yuuji.”

“Would you have said ‘yes’ if Sukuna wasn’t part of the story?”

“. . .I wouldn’t have met Naoki if Sukuna wasn’t part of the story.”

“Don’t be like that. I mean in general.”

“No, I wouldn’t have said ‘yes’ because . . . I don’t love Naoki like I thought I did.”

Yuuji sighed, “Well, there’s your answer. This Naoki guy just isn’t the one for you.”

“So. . . Sukuna came over—I didn’t invite him, by the way—and he was . . . with Eileen.”

“That one blondie?”

You nodded, looking at your lap.

“What a bitch,” Yuuji shook his head.

“We decided to have a double-date? I don’t know. A movie was put on, and I went to go make popcorn. Sukuna came with; one thing led to another, and we kissed. . . I loved it. But, I felt guilty, because. . . I was in a relationship with another guy. Fuck, of course I felt guilty! I was cheating for God’s sake!” You groaned, holding your head in your hands.

Yuuji hummed, “That’s kind of a dick move on your part, not gonna lie.”

Your head snapped to Yuuji’s. “I know! That’s the whole point. I know, and I still did it. And, if time was rewound, I probably would have done the same thing. God. And you know the worst part? We broke up right after. I told Sukuna about how we shouldn’t have been . . . y’know, kissing, and he just. . . We broke up. The arrangement’s off.

“I lost a fake boyfriend, and I lost a real friend. All in the same day.”

“That’s. . . I don’t even know what to say to you. So, as for Naoki?”

“I broke up with him yesterday. I got deja vu being with Naoki. I felt like he wasn’t the first boyfriend I had that liked macaroni and cheese. It was as if I was reliving something I had already gone through. It just didn’t sit right with me.”

“And you did something about that?”

You paused. “Well . . . yeah. I broke up with him.”

“Sheesh, that’s the shortest lasting relationship you’ve ever had. And probably the shortest one in history, too.”

“Yuuji,” you deadpanned, “be serious.”

“Okay, okay,” he raised his hands in defense. “You couldn’t, like, explain everything to him or something? You guys could just get back together. For real, this time.”

“Not exactly. . . I mean, just look at me, I’m currently a fucking mess. I’m more confused than I’ve ever been. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Sukuna how I really felt, because . . . I just don’t think . . . I would be good for him.”

“Are you telling me? Or are you trying to tell yourself that?” 

“. . .” You didn’t know.

Yuuji said your name with full confidence, “I know my brother. I’ve known him my whole life. And I know, that, you were the best and the worst thing to happen to him. (That’s a compliment.) There will never ever be another girl like you. Not in this lifetime. Not in this universe. Not ever. So be rational, goddamnit. Sukuna won’t settle for less. And he’s as stubborn as a mule. What you did was wrong, but you can always change the ending of a story if you really put your mind to it.

“Call him. Text him. But whatever you do, do the apologizing and explaining in person. I will personally help you and abduct him, if that’s what it will take.

“I really like you and my brother together; I’m selfish, I know. But everyone is a little self-seeking every once in a while, and I’m sure Sukuna would at least hear you out. So don’t sweat it, kid.” Yuuji patted you on the shoulder encouragingly, before sitting up and cracking his back after sitting for what seemed like forever.

-

You ended up passing up Yuuji on his ingenious idea of kidnapping Sukuna. If you were going to fix things, you were going to do it unaided. There have been too many people involved by now; you just wanted it to be Sukuna and you and the stars in the night sky. Uninterrupted by any phone calls, and any other thoughts that snaked their way into your brain.

“What . . . is this?” Sukuna raised a brow, inspecting the plate of food in your hands.

“You cooked for me . . . a lot, back then. I just . . . wanted to repay the favor?” You tried.

“So why is the ketchup on the omurice spelling out the word ‘sorry’? I’m not a mind reader, y’know. Explain,” Sukuna crossed his arms.

“It’s an apology. For you. I’m apologizing to you, Sukuna, for being so utterly stupid these two weeks. Please, let me explain. So I can sound like less of a dick.”

“Be my guest.”

Despite Yuuji’s assurance, you still feared Sukuna would hang up your call or leave your texts on read. So, you did the next best thing. You had shown up to Sukuna’s door completely unannounced. With a plate of a traditional Japanese dish—omurice—in your grasps, which you knew Sukuna had a soft spot for. People usually do a design with the ketchup, and you . . . decided to write the word sorry.

You followed Sukuna inside, and the both of you walked onto the balcony, where you could have some peace and quiet to explain yourself with no interruptions. There was the occasional flutter of the wind, and the sounds of birds having fun in the sky, but that was it. And that was enough.

Clearing your throat, you began—with the plate of food still in your hands. “I’ve been really stupid. And ignorant. And. . . I’m sorry.

“I don’t know why, but, I’ve always pushed away the idea that I loved you. And, that was dumb. Because I really loved you. Love, I mean. I know that’s kind of frank, and maybe even a little cheesy to hear and say, but, I don’t regret saying it. To you, at least.

“We got into this relationship for my benefit. And I never batted an eye to how you felt. That was egotistical of me. A dick move. And I’ve realized that.

“I’ve been stupid since the beginning of this. I mean, what type of person comes up with the idea that they’re cursed to never date someone interested in macaroni and cheese?” you joked.

Sukuna sighed. “You know, I agreed to your ‘curse removal’ thing because I never experienced true romantic love. But, in the end, you only gave me my first experience of true romantic heartbreak.”

“Uhm, yeah, I’m—I’m really, really sorry, Sukuna. Feelings always confuse me, and—and I didn’t say yes to being Naoki’s girlfriend because I loved him. It’s you who I feel that way towards. . .” you cringed at yourself. “I dragged you into this mess; and I fucked up. I just want you to know, that, me agreeing to be Naoki’s girlfriend was only because I didn’t know how to say otherwise. I felt . . . obligated? to say ‘yes’ and so I did. But, love isn’t really my strong suit. And, I know it sounds cheesy to say this, but, taking everything into account, this kind of reminds me of what Plato wrote about soulmates. 

“That, humans used to originally have four arms, four legs, and two faces. Until, as a punishment for our pride, Zeus split humans in half. And now, we’re left destined to walk the earth searching for our other half.” 

You sighed, exhausted with guilt.

“Yeah, I messed up, really bad, and you may hate me forever now—I wouldn’t blame you—but, I think I’ll always be drawn back to you. And,” you paused, looking up at the moon above, “I can’t say I’m complaining. As long as it’s you I’m destined to.”

Sukuna remained silent throughout the whole time you explained yourself. He felt . . . conflicted, to say the least. He knew he shouldn’t forgive you, but his heart ached, and longed. Sukuna had spent the days apart from you reflecting and going over everything that happened. And, in conclusion, he still loved you. Honestly, if you stabbed him and removed the blade before doing the same thing, Sukuna would probably still love you.

His stomach churned, and his eyebrows furrowed, as his turmoil consumed most of him.

“This might be a bad time to say this, but,” Sukuna turned to you, whispering, “I only liked macaroni and cheese because I ate it with you. You made the meal enjoyable, because we ate it together. As a couple, as friends, whatever. And, in full honesty. . . I fucking hate macaroni and cheese.”

Sukuna expected you to respond in shock, maybe even curse him out a bit, but you didn’t. At least, you didn’t let any emotion show on your face. Instead, you merely continued staring at the stars and the moon in the inky, dark night sky. Silent, eyes unblinking, and body unmoving.

The curse was never about macaroni and cheese. It was about true love. Those relationships with other people who liked macaroni and cheese weren’t successful because they were all with the wrong person. You weren’t cursed. You were in love, without knowing it.

“Look up, Sukuna,” you whispered, entirely focused on the stars. “Don’t you think. . .” 

Your voice trailed off, but Sukuna finished your sentence for you.

“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”

“. . .Yes. Yes, it is.”

Love truly was the most twisted curse of all.

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒

A/N: ngl, i feel like i kinda rushed this ending, but im glad its done so whatever. here are some details you might've missed <3

[airas-story]

Moral of the Story

“Do you even realize what you just told me?” Stephen asked, sounding perturbed.

Tony glanced to the side to look at him. He’d been focusing on the bookshelves so he wouldn’t see the disgust he knew he’d find on Stephen’s face. “What are you talking about?” Tony asked; it was not the reaction he’d expected after telling the story of his 40th birthday party, every humiliating moment of it. The disgust, for one, wasn’t there. Stephen had a strange—ha—look on his face, as though he was in the process of rethinking something he’d thought he’d known.

“You’re telling me your best friend stole your suit, beat you into the ground while he thought you were drunk, then flew off and took the suit you’d done everything to keep out of the hands of other people and gave it to the government, and not just the government, but your competitor.”

Tony made a face, because competitor, that was being a little generous. “Hammer is not—“

Stephen held out a hand to stop him, apparently not about to let himself be distracted. “He was supposed to be your best friend. And he… I don’t care how you were acting, Rhodes shouldn’t have beat you into the ground and then stolen from you, especially in a way that deliberately and explicitly betrayed your very well-publicized view of putting the suit in the hands of the government.” Stephen shook his head. “People could have died because of that, and it’d be your weapons, once again. That would have destroyed you, Tony. I’m trying to understand how you could possibly be okay with this.”

He examined Tony, eyes piercing as though searching for answers in Tony’s soul.

Tony shifted uncomfortably, not sure he wanted Stephen to find whatever he was looking for. He tried to deflect. “Whoa, calm down. You’re focusing on the wrong things.” Because there were some things he preferred not to think about. “I was being an irresponsible ass, dangerously so. And I intended for him to take it,” Tony added. He’d wanted part of Iron Man to live on to protect the world after he died, and he couldn’t think of anyone better than Rhodey. “I trusted he wouldn’t misuse it. So he wasn’t really stealing it.”

It didn’t distract Stephen in quite the way he’d hoped. “Did he know that?” Stephen asked, tone sharp and eyes blazing, clearly getting riled up. “Did Colonel Rhodes know that he was ‘not stealing’ it?”

Tony stared at him, utterly baffled. “Stephen, I was being an irresponsible ass.”

“And that gives him the right to steal?” Stephen demanded. “To beat you into the ground, to tell you, the creator of the suit, that you don’t deserve it.”

Tony flinched, because even now, that one hurt. “Well… yeah?”

Stephen just stared at him for a long moment, but then nodded. “Right. There are so many issues here, I don’t even know where to start. Did he… I don’t know. Apologize?”

The words had been said, but Tony instinctively knew that that wasn’t what Stephen really meant. They’d kind of just moved past it and pretended that the situation had never happened. Something told him that Stephen really wouldn’t like that answer.

Stephen ran a hand over his face, clearly seeing the answer on his face. “You really don’t see a problem with anything that happened then, do you?” Pain, maybe even grief, twisted his tone.

“I do,” Tony protested; that had been the point of the whole story. “I know I handled things in the worst possible way.” And even that was downplaying how badly he’d acted.

“Undoubtedly,” Stephen agreed. “You should have been honest about the fact that you were dying. Isolating yourself the way you did was perhaps nobly meant, but foolish.” The look on Stephen’s face made it clear he thought it was far more foolish than noble. “And you absolutely shouldn’t have been drunk in a weaponized suit.” Stephen sent him a sharp look at that. Tony relaxed a little, because this was the sort of reaction he’d been expecting. “But that doesn’t make theft, escalation, and physical intimidation the right answer in handling the situation.”

“Rhodey was doing what he needed to do.”

Stephen shook his head, expression twisted in clear displeasure still as he looked away. “Perhaps.” His disagreement rang loud and clear.

Tony took a moment to just look at him. Stephen had a furrow in his brow and was glaring down at the book on the table.

“I get the feeling that I shouldn’t have told you this story. You completely missed the moral of the story. And normally you’re so good at that,” Tony said dryly, trying to lighten things, a little. “You’re supposed to be taking from it that I’m reckless, idiotic, and untrustworthy.”

The ferocity in Stephen’s gaze took Tony aback. “I already knew you were reckless. I’m not surprised that you’re occasionally an idiot. And trying to convince me that you’re untrustworthy is a long lost cause.” He met Tony’s gaze, an untold depth of emotions in his eyes that caught Tony’s breath for a moment; something warm settled in his chest.

He shelved it for a moment, because Stephen had completely missed the moral of the story, but he hadn’t gotten nothing from it. He’d just gotten the wrong thing, from it. Tony sighed, because he just knew this would turn messy if he didn’t stop it in its tracks. “Don’t be mad at Rhodey.”

“Too late,” Stephen told him, tone unshakeable. “You refuse to be mad at anything, so I’m going to do it for you.”

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

i wouldn’t let you get in trouble

pair: Fred Weasley x reader

requested by anonymous

Hello could you do Fred Weasley x reader and reader can do wandless magic easily and Fred sees that she can do it and asks for her help with a prank but she's a bit reluctant but eventually gives in

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Fred Weasley was leaning against the counter in the common room, twirling his wand in his fingers, a mischievous grin spread across his face. He had a brilliant prank in mind—one that would go down in Hogwarts history—but this one required a bit more finesse than usual. He needed someone who could do wandless magic. He’d heard whispers that Y/N could do it with ease, but he wasn’t sure if she’d be willing to help.

“Oi, Y/N!” Fred called out when he saw her passing by, her arms full of books. She paused, giving him a curious look.

“What do you want, Weasley?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. She had a feeling that whatever Fred was about to propose was going to be trouble, and not the good kind.

Fred strolled over, leaning down slightly as if they were about to share a secret. “I hear you’ve got quite the skill when it comes to wandless magic.”

Y/N glanced around, as if expecting someone to be listening in. “Who told you that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Fred said, flashing a grin. “But I was thinking, with that kind of talent, you could be a real asset to a little...project I’m working on.”

She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. “What kind of project?”

Fred’s grin widened. “A prank, of course. George and I’ve been cooking this one up for a while, but we’re missing the final touch. Something that’ll leave everyone talking for weeks.”

Y/N sighed, already knowing where this was going. “And you need me because...?”

“Because you’re brilliant at wandless magic. We need someone who can do a few things without people noticing—subtle, sneaky. You’re perfect for it.”

“I don’t know, Fred,” Y/N said hesitantly, shifting on her feet. “I don’t want to get into trouble.”

Fred tilted his head, giving her that signature charming smile. “Trouble? You’re talking to a Weasley, Y/N. Trouble’s practically my middle name. But I promise, no one will know it was you.”

She bit her lip, thinking it over. It wasn’t like she couldn’t do the magic he was asking for—it would be easy enough—but the idea of getting involved in one of Fred and George’s infamous pranks made her nervous.

“You promise I won’t get caught?” she asked, eyeing him skeptically.

Fred raised his hand solemnly. “On my honor. I wouldn’t let you get in trouble. I’d take the blame if anything went wrong.”

Y/N studied his face, trying to determine if he was serious. Despite his mischievous reputation, she knew Fred was the kind of person who would actually keep a promise like that.

With a sigh, she relented. “Fine. I’ll help.”

Fred’s grin widened even further, and he clapped his hands together. “Brilliant! You won’t regret it, I swear.”

Y/N shook her head, wondering if she’d regret this later. “So, what’s the plan?”

Fred leaned in close, explaining the prank in detail. Y/N listened carefully, and despite herself, she couldn’t help but be impressed by the creativity behind it. Fred wasn’t just reckless—he had a clever mind, and it showed in the intricate details of his plan.

“I’ll need you to charm the suits of armor in the corridor to move around a bit, but it has to look like they’re doing it on their own,” Fred explained. “We can’t have any wands out, or McGonagall will know someone’s up to something.”

Y/N nodded slowly. “I can do that. But just this once.”

Fred winked at her. “That’s all I need.”

When the night of the prank arrived, Y/N found herself standing in the corridor with Fred, her heart racing slightly. She held her hand out, focusing on the suits of armor, and with a small flick of her fingers, one of them shifted slightly, stepping to the side. Fred watched in awe.

“You make it look so easy,” he whispered, a hint of admiration in his voice.

Y/N smirked. “Told you.”

As the suits of armor began to move in unison, clanking and shifting along the hallway, Fred couldn’t contain his excitement. “This is going to be perfect!”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. Despite her earlier reluctance, she had to admit it was fun—especially seeing Fred so thrilled with the result.

The prank went off without a hitch, and the next morning, the entire school was buzzing about the mysterious moving suits of armor. No one had any idea who was behind it, and Fred, true to his word, didn’t breathe a word about Y/N’s involvement.

“Thanks again for the help,” Fred said later, catching her in the common room. “I knew you were the right person for the job.”

Y/N shrugged, pretending like it wasn’t a big deal. “It was nothing.”

Fred chuckled. “I might just have to recruit you again sometime.”

“We’ll see,” she replied, her tone teasing.

As Fred walked away, Y/N couldn’t help but smile to herself.

[sugarushwriting]

dedicated to @softkisshyunjin 🩷🫶🏽 thank u for the idea!! and omg thank u for having my notifs on.

kim seungmin

a man who’ve you noticed, but never even thought of in that way

until tonight

“say please.”

seungmin is not an idol in this drabble, but instead just a popular/important/rich figure somewhat (due to the event)

not proof read ☺️

wrote this like 2 times only to erase (he was gonna be a mob boss) then i was like naaah, then wrote this drabble in an hour

mhm hehe minors dni (please don’t)

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

oh my. so many words, curses, thoughts, desires went through your head when you saw kim seungmin.

i mean as usual, he was a handsome guy, but today, no, today he just looked different. hit different, if you dare to say.

his short black hair. the tailored silk black suit, with the black shoes. silver necklace around his neck.

you wish that necklace was hanging above you.

the silver rings around his fingers.

imagine the marks they would leave on your flesh.

the way they would feel if seungmin was to run his fingers across your body. if his fingers were to plunge deep—

“you good?” you heard your friend say from beside you.

“huh?”

“were you even listening to me for the past 3 minutes?”

nope. “of course i was.” you lied to your friend. you were so thankful she brought you to this elite event that only the most important and powerful people could attend.

kim seungmin was one of them. you’ve known him since college, as you two were academic rivals in the debate club.

and he was just too good at it, it pissed you off. so much so you could never even imagine yourself looking at seungmin in anything but disgust.

it’s not like you found him ugly—no, quite the opposite in fact. he was cute, with his long fluffy hair—until today.

it was short. and it made his sharp features of his face stand out even more.

you inhaled a deep breath as your eyes raked over his silk suit. you sighed in defeat to yourself.

lately, you’ve been noticing how handsome he was. his shoulders, his lanky figure, the long fingers.

every. little. thing.

now that you two were graduated, and now completing internships at the same law firm, you had to see him almost everyday in a suit.

and he had to see you almost everyday in a dress or skirt—when you weren’t wearing pants.

seungmin preferred the skirts and dresses.

and he was happy you was wearing a short dress tonight so he could ogle your legs.

you don’t even know if you still considered him a rival, but you never thought you want to have seungmin take you to bed.

to have you begging on your knees for him to please you. you shook your head slightly trying to rid of your thoughts.

you were so screwed. the night was just beginning, and you were sure this even would last for the next four to five hours.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

as time went on you found yourself stealing glances at seungmin when he wasn’t looking. or so you thought, but he caught you a few times.

little did you know, he was doing the same to you. wondering when you got so fucking hot. wondering when his mind went to imagining about debating you about world politics to imagining bending you over in a bed on all fours.

he needed some air and quick.

he walked through the event up some stairs pass the ballroom. he found a hidden area, with a small balcony over looking the courtyard.

he had to get himself together. just because you were stealing looks doesn’t mean anything, right?

he was always a menance because truthfully he found you cute and stupidly hot and attractive. especially when you argued and got passionate about said argument.

many times he thought about wanting to start a nasty argument with you just to tell you to shut up for you to bark back, “make me.”

he heard footsteps coming up the steps and almost didn’t hide until he heard it was your voice. he hid in the corner, in the shadows.

luckily for him, you were too busy talking to yourself.

“get over yourself! you can’t be thinking about him like that! not here! kim seungmin of all people? are you out of your mind?”

you spoke to yourself, hands going through your hair, occasionally smacking your forehead.

“kim seungmin, you cannot imagine him that way! there is no way you can imagine him naked! stop!”

you sighed and huffed, walking to the balcony, not even phased that the door was slightly opened, and not even aware of seungmin just feet away.

seungmin was holding in his laughter. even when you argued with yourself, you made the same hand gestures and facial expressions. it wasn’t until your next sentence that he revealed his hiding spot.

“he probably couldn’t even please me! yep that’s right! kim seungmin probably can’t even make me come!”

“to the hell i can’t! who told you that?”

you literally shrieked at the voice. you could be so unaware sometimes.

“how long have you been here!”

“long enough to hear your entire monologue including you making a bold statement that i can’t make you come.” seungmin said a bit annoyed.

you flustered, your face turning hot. “i—uh.” you couldn’t even make an excuse. you were caught. “why are you spying on me in the first place!”

“i wasn’t spying,” seungmin scoffs, “i was here first. i hid when i heard someone coming up the stairs just in case i wasn’t actually allowed to be up here.” he went on, the narrowed his eyes at you, “now, don’t change the subject. why did you say i couldn’t make you come?”

you swallowed. seungmin looked so offended at that statement and so fucking hot. you were speechless and shrugged.

enough was enough, seungmin thought. he saw your eyes lingering on him throughout the night, and often at your internship. he saw the lustfulness behind those eyes. he wasn’t dumb. you wanted him.

and he wanted you.

“get on your knees.”

“excuse you?”

“are you deaf or just slow? get. on. your. knees. brat.” seungmin remarked.

you huffed and mumbled, “i am not a brat.”

“fine. get on your knees, pup.”

you whimpered. seungmin’s voice was different. laced with something more dominant, more than his usual teasing or menacing side.

you obeyed and slid down to your knees, your dress riding up.

seungmin smirked. his hand when to cradle your face, his thumb swiping across your bottom lip.

“don’t know if i like you more like this, all nice and submissive, or if i prefer you bratty and defensive.”

“i’m not a brat!”

“mhm, definitely when you are bratty.” seungmin smiled, and slipped his thumb past your lips. “you don’t understand how much your mouth turns me on. the amount of times when we debated, i just wanted to shut you up.”

your tongue swirled his thumb, and he sighed in bliss. “so perfect. just for me.”

“seungmin you either hurry up or im walking away.” you threatened.

“i dare you to try.” he challenged.

of course stubborn you got off your knees and went to walk past seungmin, but he grabbed your elbow and spun you around so quickly, all you saw was a blur before he pulled your body to his.

he leaned down to your ear, “big mistake.”

that threat, the venom laced from his throat, just made you drip even more with wetness. it added on to what you were trying to calm down from the night.

you gulped when seungmin pushed you against the wall, your face and front end smushed. seungmin melted his front side to your back.

you felt the tent in his pants. you purposely pushed your ass to him, he hissed and pushed your hips away from him. he deeply groaned with a laugh that sent chills through your bones.

“playing with fire sweetheart.”

using his foot, he spread your legs, and pushed your dress to bunch it against your waist. your backside felt cold when he removed himself, only for a loud groan to leave your lips.

because seungmin smacked you. he smacked your ass so hard you were sure, that a handprint and ring marks would be left tomorrow, and for the next week.

and that made your cunt crave even more.

“do you like that, sweetheart?”

you couldn’t even lie so you nodded your head.

seungmin chuckled. he rubbed your ass to soothe the sting. “good to know you like playing dirty.”

another smack was landed on the other cheek and you bit your lip to keep quiet. seungmin didn’t like that.

he scolded, “i want to hear you.”

you stuttered, “but—but the people?”

“i don’t give a damn about them. i am more than happy to let them know how good i make you feel and how hard i make you come.”

he hasn’t even done those things yet, but yet his words sounded like a promise.

another two smacks came down to each cheek, causing you to groan out loud.

“more like it.”

seungmins fingers traced the lace of your underwear, before he slowly pulled it down your legs, signaling for you to lift your feet so he could rid them completely.

he slid them in his back pocket.

your forehead rested against the wall, waiting for his next move. you wasn’t expecting his fingers to immediately prod at your entrance.

“fuck so tight, sweetheart.” he hummed. “gonna stretch you out.”

and that he did. because seungmin used three fingers as he prepped you. rutting his fingers in and out at a fast pace, not even giving you mercy.

he had one thing to prove and he was close to it.

a kiss landed on the back of your shoulder, then a slight nibble, then he used his teeth. that just made it more pleasurable.

moans were slipping out your lips, at a pace that couldn’t keep up with how could he was making you feel.

the side of your face pushed against the wall, seungmin roughly pulled down the straps of your dress to under your breast, his free hand wrapping around your figure to grab one harshly in his hand, then twisted that nipped.

you moaned his name in pleasure, your hands against the wall to keep you upward.

then you felt it. the knot forming in your lower stomach. you bit your lip, as your moans became a pitch higher and seungmin knew you were close.

his fingers picked the pace up, his thumb tracing circles on your clit.

“oh my, seungmin im so close!” you grumbled, your knees getting weak.

then seungmin pulled his fingers out.

son of a bitch!

you turned around quickly, needing to rest your backside on the wall as your knees and thighs were losing strength.

you don’t care if he saw your bare breasts or cunt right now. you were seeing, red.

“you son of a bitch seungmin!”

“i thought you said i couldn’t make you come? im just doing what you said.” he smirked proudly.

you whined, you don’t care, you just need that orgasm. and you need it from the man in front of you!

“seungmin!”

“beg for it.”

“huh?”

“say please, sweetheart.”

“seungmin,” you began to argue rolling your eyes.

“say. please.” seungmin gritted. “or i walk out right now.”

you didn’t want to believe him, but you know he would. he would leave you dripping and left without your orgasm. you’ll cringe at yourself later.

“please seungmin!”

“please what?”

“please make me come! i know you can! i know you can make me feel good, just please!” you begged, your head hitting the wall behind you.

you were so frustrated, you didn’t realize how fast seungmin was when he pulled his dick out from his pants.

“all you had to say, sweetheart.” he mumbled in your ear, his breath sending more chills down your spine.

he kissed and teased your earlobe, then kissed below it, before he plunged his dick into you.

“fuck you seungmin!” you yelled out, the intrusiveness of his dick stretching you out more than you were used to.

“that you are.” he laughed, kissed your lips, then picked your legs up so they were wrapped around his waist.

“hold on to me.” he ordered and you did so, just as he began rocking his hips back and forth, at a bruising speed, trying to get both of you to chase your orgasms quickly before you two got caught.

he didn’t care if you both were heard, but the thought of another man walking in seeing you drool over him drilling into you, made him angry.

possessive.

jealous.

“ah seugnmin,” you moaned out, unsure of how to finish the sentence. he was making you speechless, and for once in your life, it was due to seugnmin doing something good to you.

seungmin groaned and gloated that his dick made you so speechless. he had you. he had you just where he wanted, now.

your hand went to the back of his next, gripping tight, as your other hand remained on his shoulder.

“seungmin, im close, please, please don’t stop.” you begged.

“i won’t sweetheart, i promise.” he stopped just for a second to kiss you deeply before he continued his ruthless thrusts.

your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands gripping your bare ass, he was able to sneak one hand in between where your bodies connected and rubbed your clit.

you tucked your head into his cheek, breathing, groaning, moaning, crying profanities as you felt another knot forming, and seungmin felt your walls closing in around him.

“that’s it, come around me.” then he demanded you to do so, “come around me now.”

he bit your earlobe sending you over the edge, your coming seeping out of you, onto seungmins cock, only for him to thrust two more times and his own come met yours inside you.

“fuck.” seungmin was out of breath as he kept your body up by pushing you against the wall, his attached to yours. his nose was buried in your neck as you felt his hot breath.

both of your chests was heaving so hard.

seungmin then laughed. “you owe me an apology. hurting my feelings saying i couldn’t make you come.” he whispered into your neck.

you chuckled as well. “im sorry seungmin. you proved me wrong.”

seungmin’s head lifted from your neck with a smile,

“can you say that one more time? i want to record it to make it my new alarm.”

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

inspired by:

thank you tasaki

[trashpremiium]

i love making my ttrpg characters trans because it means i can give them different relationships with names and i love names

[fingertipsmp3]

.

[inupibaldspot]

Walk him like a dog

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : The first year trio are watching Gojo who is completely head over heels for you.

To the world, Gojo Satoru is the strongest but to the people who know him Gojo Satoru is a menace.

When he was in high school, he was a different breed. Yaga could not sleep at times from all the stress Gojo would cause; be it either an earful from the higher ups or checking the news only to find out there had been an explosion conveniently where Gojo’s mission was assigned.

Sometimes he would get pictured sent to him by the problem student himself, a picture with a beaten up enemy and Gojo winking at the camera with a note saying ‘Yay~ another victory! I mean it’s as normal as breathing for me (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ’

Even when Yaga would use his authority and lecture him, sometimes Gojo Satoru would not listen; be it simply ignoring or rebutting it with his opinion— an opinion no one asks for.

And when that happens, Yaga would pull out his secret weapon ‘You’! He didn’t use this card all the time but at time Gojo was simply so uncooperative, he had to! Any word coming from you would be listened to by him as if it were law. Right now, at the age of 28 he seemed to have matured- no stopped acting as childish and Yaga didn’t have to rely on you so often.

That same Yaga watches from the window at his new first years— Kugisaki Nobara, Itadori Yuji and Fushiguro Megumi— behind a bush, hiding peeking over to you and Gojo who were on a bench.

“Ah…” Kugisaki sweat dropped at the pair. “Gojo-sensei is so smitten.” She said observing at how you were simply reading a book, as Gojo yaps away but one thing very obvious was the gentle look he gave you.

When you finally looked Gojo’s way, their white haired teacher suddenly stops, they notice a faint blush peeping under his blindfolds and when he does starts talking he stammers. THE Gojo Satoru was stammering, biting his tongue simply because you were looking at him.

“Kugisaki, let’s leave.” Itadori covers his eyes, his right eye peeps through the cracks of his fingers. “Sensei is doing such a bad job at flirting with y/n, I’m getting embarrassed.”

Kugisaki lifts her hands and grabs the collar of Itadori’s and starts shaking it. “This is the closest we’re getting to romance in this school and I want to be the witness.” She grits her teeth.

Just then Nanami walks along the path, making the pair look over. You smile as you call out. “Nanami-kun.”

Nanami stops and waits as you stand from your bench, walking over to greet him. The students stare; as soon as you got off the bench and walks Gojo follows suit not even a millisecond later.

Kugisaki cringes. “He is like a puppy…”

They could vaguely hear Gojo start to make fun of Nanami, but when you think his ‘joke’ was a slight bit too harsh; they watch you give Gojo a side eye and almost immediately their teacher shuts up.

‘y/n has the strongest sorcerer at the palm of their hands .’ Kugisaki and Itadori collectively thought.

Before Kugisaki could comment she senses a small wet feeling on her forehead, then another and then she was drowning in it. Suddenly it started raining.

“Geh. Let’s get out of here.” Kugisaki says as she quickly brought her hands up to cover her bangs. “I don’t want my hair to frizz up.”

Itadori and Fushiguro follows her lead as they walk away to the nearby building and when they did reach shelter, Kugisaki quickly turns around to check on their teacher and you, a fellow sorcerer.

Her mouth drops slightly taking in the situation at hand, Nanami was no where in sight. She assumes he left because of the rain too.

But that wasn’t the focus.

Her eyes were focused on Gojo and you, holding hands smiling fondly at each other, she also noted that he was using ‘Infinity’ to not get wet from the rain.

Gojo laughs as he raises one of your hands high which makes you let out laugh, but complies as you proceed to twirl. As soon as you make two twirls, their teacher places his hands on your face as his leans down, his lips on yours.

Kugisaki and Itadori squeal and blushes at the intimate scene infront of them, jumping. “Sensei, finally did it! He kissed y/n—!” Itadori smiles.

They watch you smile into the kiss and you bring your hands up behind his neck, slowly trailing them into his hair, deepening the kiss.

“I’m so happy,Kugisaki.” Itadori wipes his tears with the back of his hands, extremely happy for his teacher’s happiness and success in his love life.

“I don’t know why you guys are making such a fuss.” Fushiguro finally decides to add into the antics of his classmates.

“Huh?” Kugisaki quickly turns and glares at the dark haired man. ”Is your heart made of stone or something,Fushiguro?”

“Yeah! I heard Gojo-sensei basically raised you.” Itadori chirps in. “You should be more happy for him.”

Kugisaki nods in agreement.

“I mean…” Fushiguro sighs as his hands are up massaging his temple, mentally preparing for the outburst to come.

“They’re married…”

“Ehhhhh???”

Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? out other here

[icepopstar5105us]

“Hey. Uh, Johnny?” Danny said awkwardly, “What does it mean when one of the older ghosts calls you their favored and why does it freak people out?”

Johnny 13 gave the halfa a bewildered look, “Dude. Didn’t you listen to Death? At all?”

“Death?” Danny scrunched his face, “What do you mean? I don’t…”

“Wait.” Johnny straightened, “You’ve talked with Death, right? She explained-?”

Danny shook his head, confused, “Was I supposed to?”

“When you first died, she’s supposed to appear. She gives a whole spiel and then transfers a bunch of information.” Johnny frowned, “She did it for Plasmius, so it’s not a halfa thing.”

“Oh.” Danny looked down, “What if… What if someone died and came back a few times very quickly? Would that… Would that cause any problems?”

Johnny stilled, horrified, “Ok. Look, do you want to talk about your death? Because I’m not asking if you don’t, but...”

“I guess…” Danny said, “So you know that my parents made the portal, right?”

“Yeah.” Johnny said.

“They’d been trying to do it for a long time. Plasmius actually worked with them for a while back when they were in college. It’s why all of their tech is similar in design.” Danny explained, “They built the thing, plugged it in, turned it on… and nothing.”

“But it works now.” Johnny frowned.

“Yeah. It does.” Danny nodded, “But remember my friends? Sam and Tucker?”

“The edgy emo and the computer geek?”

“As Sam’s friend, I am obligated to inform you that she is goth not emo… but yes, those two.” Danny smiled sadly, “My mom and dad were upset. They left the house and Jazz was working her shift at a library. The whole house was empty and I was… you know. A normal teenager home alone.”

Johnny snorted at that, “Ah yes. A completely normal teenager

“Yeah, yeah. The point is, the first thing I did after being left home alone was call my friends over.” Danny rolled his eyes, “Told them what happened and… It was Sam who suggested we go down there first — she’s always been into ghost and occult stuff — and look around. Tucker was down, because it was tech even if we didn’t think most of the tech would work. He wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to mess around with it. Jazz had given me some lectures on lab safety — my parents don’t usually follow it themselves — and I had a bad feeling so I put on the Hazmat suit.”

“That’s not a superhero costume you came up with?” Johnny asked, eyes widening.

“No, um. It’s a hazmat suit. The only way I changed my form was the insignia and even then that was Sam’s idea.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, but um….” Danny paused, “We wound up standing outside the portal. It wasn’t working or anything, but there was a big spooky metal hole in the wall. You know, the kind of thing you’d expect in sci-fi movies. Sam dared me to go in and I was nervous. That bad feeling just intensified, but again — fourteen. I wasn’t being smart about it. So… I went into it. I kept going and it was dark. I was turning back when I tripped and I flailed. Accidentally hit some button that was on the side and it turned on.”

Johnny took a sharp breath.

“And um. Did you know that the portal takes a lot of electricity to start up?” Danny joked weakly, “Took three blocks worth. Um, lots of ectoplasm, too — from both the zone and the artificial stuff my parents use.” He shuffled, “So um, turns out both those things can revive and kill people. So I just kind of — died and revived a lot until it turned on and basically spat me out into the lab.

“That’s - Kid…”

“So um, maybe since I was dying and reviving so much death didn’t have a chance to fill me in? Honestly, would have like the heads up.” Danny said sheepishly, “I didn’t even understand what had happened until ghosts started coming through the portal.”

“Seriously?”

Danny shrugged, “I mean, I kind of suspected. I was falling through floors. It was hard to ignore, but I didn’t know - My parents are good inventors, but not the best scientists and it made things hard to figure out.”

“What? You bought that whole non-sentient BS?”

“No.” Danny shook his head, “I just didn’t buy any of it — and I mean none of it. I wanted nothing to do with the whole thing. The whole town thought my parents were crazy, they were always in the lab working, and I only ever saw them briefly once or twice a day. Don’t get me wrong. They’re still my parents and I love them, but… they have two big priorities. Their work and their kids. Their work is just… a higher priority to them.”

“Oh.” Johnny cringed, “Oh. Kid…”

“So yeah. Life sucks. Death sucks… but I really need to know what to do and why Ember is freaking out over me being called ‘favored one’.”

“Uh, right.” Johnny paused, “Well, it’s like old ghost language. Um. Basically, it’s like being called a really, really close friend or adopted family. Kind of like… ‘hey, this is my person that I love and protect’. It’s platonic unless they specify otherwise.”

“Huh, okay.” Danny blinked, “That makes sense, but why would Ember freak out?”

“Well… who called you that?”

“Oh! Clockwork and Pandora call me that when I visit.”

Johnny blanched, “What?”

“And now you’re freaking out, too.”

“You’ve been just- Kid! Are you just casually talking to them?”

“Um, yeah? They said it was okay?”

“Do you know nothing about the hierarchy of the- Wait. No. You didn’t get to talk to Death. Of course you don’t-“ Johnny sighed — covering his eyes, “Okay, so do you know what the ancients are?”

“I thought that was just a saying.”

“No, it’s not-” Johnny pinched the bridge of his nose, “The Ancients are the most powerful spirits in the Zone. They’re ghosts, but they resemble ideals more than they do a person most of the time. Practically gods. The ancients are Undergrowth, Frostbite, Nocturne, Pandora, Clockwork, Vortex, and Pariah Dark. Thing is… where most ghosts plateau at a certain power level the ancients can just keep growing in power. Clockwork is one of the strongest — so strong, the Observants bound him to their will.”

“Yeah, I heard about that, but he’s really nice, you know.” Danny smiled, “And he makes really good cookies really fast.”

Johnny stared at Danny for a long moment, “Danny. Do you not hear yourself right now? He’s basically the god of time.”

“Yeah, but if he didn’t want me to visit, I wouldn’t be able to find him.” Danny shrugged, “So he told me if I can see the clocktower, I’m welcome to come in.”

“Kid…”

“Besides. I’m friends with half of those guys and they’re cool.”

“Wha- How many ancients do you know?”

“Um… All the ones you just listed? I’m friends with Frostbite, Pandora, and Clockwork. I fought Undergrowth, Vortex and Nocturne before, but Nocturne likes me now. Um, Undergrowth doesn’t like me, though. Loves Sam, though… Um, obviously I know who Pariah Dark is after the whole thing in Amity-“

Johnny stilled, “Wait a minute… Kid. I need you to answer me honestly here… Did Pariah ever mention a challenge when you fought him?”

“Well, um. I guess? He was all formal speak, though, so…”

“Kid.” Johnny said very slowly, “Did he ever issue a challenge or accept a challenge from you?”

“… Um. He did say that he accepted my challenge or something, but wasn’t that just fight-talk or…”

“I think I get it now.” Johnny sighed, facepalming, “Just… maybe don’t tell people about this and consider asking one of the ancients allies you have about what Pariah accepting your challenge means for you.”

“For me? What-“

“Just… give it some thought.” Johnny paused, “And- Well, I can talk to Ember for you, yeah?”

“Thanks.”

—

Danny curled up on a sofa as Pandora embraced him with three arms and ran her fourth hand through his hair.

“Pandora.” Danny said softly, “Some of my friends say you, Frostbite, and Clockwork are ancients.”

“They are correct.”

“I didn’t know what ancients were.”

“I noticed.” Pandora laughed a bit, “But you’re a sweet child. You helped me get my box back and did not demand my favor. Perhaps it was selfish not to tell you, but I didn’t want to distress you. You are a kind and humble soul. Is it such a surprise I wish to continue seeing you?”

“You thought I would stop if I did?” Danny asked, confused, “I mean, sure my other friends were shaken up by it, but they don’t know you. Why would I be afraid when you’re so nice?”

Pandora blinked and then smiled warmly — a little laugh pulling from her throat. Oh, the innocence of such a young spirit, “Why, indeed? I suppose I didn’t give you or myself enough credit, did I?”

Danny shrugged, “I don’t have room to judge people for being different anyway. I’m a halfa. Pretty sure that’s even rarer than being an Ancient, right?”

“I suppose that is true.” Pandora smiled, “There are only a few halfas and none are quite like you. There will only ever be one of you.”

“Does this have something to do with why I never got to meet death?” Danny asked, confused, “That’s the only thing I can find that seems all that different-“

“In a way… Yes, but there are many more differences. The main one is that you powers have grown beyond Vlad Masters and they continue to do so.” Pandora said, “You are what we call a ‘Juna Potenco’. Most realms will never have heard of such things, but us ancients do not forget and when faced with a gift like yourself… well, you’ll only see more of us with time.”

“What does that mean? Is it bad?”

“No, no. It is a gift, not a punishment.” Pandora promised, “You are an inspiring soul, favored one, and it seems the realms themselves have seen that.”

“That doesn’t sound right.” Danny pulled away and sat up as he shook his head, “I’m a halfa, but that’s what I am. It doesn’t say anything about who I am. There isn’t anything special about who I am.”

“Everyone else disagrees with that last statement.” Pandora shook her head, “But I will let you in on the secret.”

“Yeah?”

“These are not due to your half spirit nature, but something truly special.” Pandora cupped his cheek, “Danny, do you truly wish to know? As amazing as this is, I am not sure you will be ready for the truth just yet.”

“I’m - I’ve been debating what colleges to apply for, but… I don’t know if any of them will take me now with my grades. I still look fourteen — fifteen at the oldest… and I still feel fourteen.” Danny looked at Pandora with pleading eyes, “So if this would impact my future, I think I’d like to know. Before things get complicated.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly, everything froze.

Danny looked up to see Clockwork putting a medallion on Pandora while Frostbite gave him a smile.

“I presume you’re here to assist in informing him?” Pandora asked.

“Indeed.” Frostbite nodded.

“Informing me of what?” Danny asked, confused.

“When you went to face Pariah Dark, you stated your intention to fight him.” Clockwork said, “And he accepted your challenge. You fought in single combat, removed the Crown of Fire from his head, and then managed to get him into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.”

“Vlad-“

“Plasmius might have locked the Sarcophagus, but you have repeatedly bested him and even when he has gotten the best of you, it has not been in single combat. However, Plasmius at one point claimed your fight was a ‘fun challenge’. You agreed — officially accepting it as such. When you defeated him, he lost any fragile claim to the throne.”

“Claim to the- Wait. What are you saying?” Danny glanced between them, “What? No. No… you have to be kidding me. I’m just me. I was trying to help, not-“

“Child, your soul was always going to be tied to the zone one way or another.” Pandora said, “Mortality is already a fragile thing, but someone so surrounded by ectoplasm at a young age all while experiencing the struggles you did with your parents absence… it was inevitable that you would be a powerful ghost.”

“But, then, Great One.” Frostbite continued, “You stood fully emerged in the space between worlds and thought of protection and forgiveness — mercy. You did not even consider vengeance or desires of your own. Only the wellbeing of others. It is an act of great sacrifice and not one many can complete so fully.”

“To put it simply, Danny.” Pandora said, “You’re one of us, Juna Protenco. New and young power that will grow infinitely. Though you are far from ancient, you will be with time.”

“An ancient to be.” Danny said distantly.

“The Ancient of Protection, Space, Mercy, and Matter.” Clockwork turned into his newborn form, “The best candidate for king we’ve had in a long time. Though, perhaps I am a bit biased.”

“Does it have something to do with space-time?” Danny guessed, “Because Matter, Time, and Space…”

“Correct.” Clockwork smirked, “Matter tells spacetime how to curve, and curved spacetime tells matter how to move. I guide you and you make changes that I will use to guide you again.”

Dannu blinked, “Oh. I get it.”

“You do?” Pandora blinked.

“That’s domains for you.” Frostbite chuckled and then quickly explained when Danny gave him a confused look, “We all innately understand our domains and their meanings. My domain is progression, society, and advancement.”

“Mine is responsibility, hope, protection, and perseverance.” Pandora revealed.

“Indeed.” Clockwork transformed into the middle aged man again, “But now that you know of your future, we must prepare.” He put his hand on Danny’s shoulder, “Your coronation must happen by the time you turn eighteen. As Ghost King, you will need to learn some diplomatic skills. We will teach you while you finish your human schooling.” Clockwork promised, “You can tell your parents the truth or you can say you are simply leaving for college, but Maddie and Jack Fenton cannot move to the Zone with you. Your sister is welcome. Your friends are welcome, but unfortunately…”

“I understand.” Danny lowered his head, “I don’t think I’ll tell them just yet. Maybe I’ll leave a note or a video, but…”

Clockwork’s eyes glazed over briefly — clearly checking the timeline.

“That is a good idea.” Clockwork nodded.

“Okay.” Danny swallowed, “I can’t -”

“No.” Clockwork said, “Honored as these two would be, they have their duties and people. They cannot. I am both bound by the Observants and a little too prone to acts of selfishness. It is too much power for me. No. It must be you.”

“You’re not selfish. You helped me.” Danny tilted his head, confused.

Clockwork chuckled guiltily as Pandora made a face and Frostbite shifted awkwardly.

“There is a reason people fear me, Danny.” Clockwork seemed more amused than anything by the sudden awkwardness, “I appreciate your trust in me, but I was not so good or kind in life. I hold domain over regret and retribution as well as time. It is a position I earned after giving and getting both in equal measure. I am not a protective spirit by nature. I am one that seeks justice and sometimes revenge.”

“I don’t get it.” Danny frowned, confused.

“Soon, you will.” Clockwork said grimly, “But for now… Trust me when I say all is as it should be.”

“Okay.” Danny said, “I trust you.”

“Now, time in.” Clockwork said. When Danny tried to give him the medallion he shook his head, “No, hold onto it. I believe it goes without saying, but do not lose it.”

“I know. I won’t.” Danny promised.

“Good, now… I believe you have some friends to talk to?”

“Er, right!” Danny said and rushed off.

“He doesn’t know who you are?” Frostbite turned to Clockwork, “And you haven’t told him?”

“… He’ll learn during his studies.” Clockwork admitted begrudgingly, “And it’s best that he come to me after he processes the information than during.”

“Just remember, Kronos.” Pandora glared as she handed over her medallion, “One wrong move-“

“Yes, yes, I am very aware of your opinions of me, Keeper of Hope.” Clockwork held a hand to Frostbite, “Shall I take you back to your people?”

“Er, yes.”

“Good, then-“

“Hey! I was not finished-“

“TIME OUT!”

Pandora sighed as they disappeared, “Ugh. He is always such a petty menace. One of these days…”

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Y/N being obsessed with Wolverine

WARNING: SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THE MOVIE SAVE AND READ LATER ;)

Warning: Dirty flirting

Wade and Y/N go way back so when he’s captured by the TVA she ends up with him. 

OK so maybe she’s like his sidekick.

She has the same suit but sexier.

Through all the jumps to different Wolverines Y/N is thrilled by the handsome man. 

Wade has always known that she found him attractive. 

When they get to the “right” one she immediately flirts with him.

“Wow, aren't you like the sexiest man alive?” She flirts.

Deadpool looks at her through his mask like “bitch,really?” 

Logan snorts at her and finishes his drink.

Seeing him in his suit? Oh she’s in love. 

She runs his fingers up his muscles and sighs, “Made in heaven.” 

Logan raises his eyebrow at her and turns to Deadpool, “She’s like you but hotter.” 

He called her hot? Oh she gets more handsy. 

Even though she’s Deadpool's sidekick she stays out of the fights between them and is the one that breaks them up.

“You’re supposed to be my sidekick! Just because you want to fuck him doesn’t mean that title goes away.” Wade tells her.

“If he wasn’t here right now I would do the nastiest things to you.” She purrs. 

He looks at her up and down and considers it. 

“I heard that!”

When Deadpool wraps his arms around Johnny, Y/N does the same with Wolverine.

“You’re so buff and muscular. It’s hard to keep my hands off ya.” 

Cassandra gets inside Y/N’s mind and calls her a whore. 

Y/N smirks at Wolverine, “Only for you big boy.”

“Well since you don’t wanna join them in taking her down, Can I suck your dick?” 

Her suit gets nearly shredded and both Deadpool and Wolverine stare at her body, “If you don’t fuck her, I will.” Wade says. 

Wolverine snorts at that.

Seeing Wolverine with his mask nearly made her cum, “And here I was thinking that you couldn’t get hotter. I was wrong.” She sighs, dreamily.  

She cried when she thought she lost both her bestie and her dream man. 

But when he came out shirtless that thought went away. 

“Oh baby you’re gonna have to fuck me soon. I don’t know how long I can take it.” She says.

He chuckles and takes off his mask.

He pulls her into a kiss and she happily accepts.

Deadpool rolls his eyes as the kiss gets deeper, “Okay we get it! You guys wanna fuck. Disney won’t allow that.” 

Y/N breaks the kiss with a love sickening smile.

Wolverine looks down at her with the same look. 

“Ok fuckheads. Let’s get going!” Deadpool says.

Both of them sigh but walk hand in hand.

“You take good care of her and no babies until after marriage.” Logan rolls his eyes. 

“No promises friendo. We are fucking like rabbits tonight.” She smirks at him.

[alexthetrashyracoon]

Simon grinned at himself through the mirror like a stupid teenager in the changing room as Price, god bless this man and his father figure behavior, tugged on his tie to keep it straight and clean.

Wedding Day had come. His wedding day had come.

“Mate, you must be shakin’ with excitement to marry the pretty face.” Gaz grinned from his spot on the couch, all three of them dressed in their best attire. Even Soap hadn’t complained once about wearing a tie.

Simon’s mind wandered to you in the other room, he hadn’t seen you since last night, tradition, that’s what they called it.

He hoped you were having a blast, because you had to spend so many days and nights over the wedding plans that he had to get you to the hospital once after you broke down from exhaustion.

“Anyone ever thought big bad ol’ Ghost gets married?” Soap teased as he rummaged through the drawers at the desk. What exactly was he searching? Simon didn’t know or maybe he was too happy to question his best friend’s motives for now, they usually end in chaos and today was meant no chaos.

“I always believed Simon would find the one true love one day.” Price nodded and patted Simon’s chest, telling him he was done with the tie.

“Liar.” Gaz laughed and shook his head. “If you want to know who always believed in you, Lieutenant, that’s me. Ol’ Captain and MacTavish over here said you would die a virgin. We got a bet running for a while.”

Simon wasn’t even surprised or mad, maybe tomorrow, or the week after. But tonight he wanted to be on Cloud Nine and looking through the pink tinted glasses of love. Tonight he would say ‘yes’ to the person he loved the most, the one that kept him alive and sane and put up with his antics.

“I’m getting married.” He smiled at himself in the mirror.

“You’re getting married, son.” Price looked at him, through the mirror, a proud smile hidden under the beard.

A minute later his phone rang, your name and picture on the screen.

“Yes? Everything alright, darling?” Simon asked and looked at Price, worry flashing behind his brown eyes.

“I’m scared, Simon. I… I know this will sound crazy and you probably think I’m mad. But… I wanna run away.” You say, followed by a shaky breath. “But at the same time I don’t wanna run away but stay and marry you. Does it make sense?”

Simon relaxed immediately, you were nervous, as you should be. Just like him.

“How about this then, darling, we run away together until you know what you want.” He grinned and picked up his suit jacket.

Soap and Gaz were gasping at him.

“Let’s run away together and if you still feel like running, we blew off this party. And if not, we come back, say yes to each other tonight and live our happily ever after.”

Gaz asked if he was insane. Soap was looking between Simon and Price, who simply had the time of his life while opening the door for Simon to leave.

“Are you sure… do you… I mean…?” You started to ramble and mutter under your breath.

“Darling… For you I would go through hell and back. I am not complete without you anymore. There was a time before you, sure. But there will be no time after you. Together.” Simon spoke gently and could see through the phone who your cheeks turned pink and tears pricked your eyes. “I’ll be out in two minutes, don’t let me wait.”

(Spoiler, in the end Simon and you got married surrounded by friends and family. Price lost a bet to Laswell because they both know you two and knew you would pull such a stunt. Soap had gained a few more grey hairs than necessary and Gaz was pretty sure this was some kind of punishment, why else would you two pull something like that.)

[yanderenightmare]

TW: angst, toxic traits, somewhat bullying, breakup

fem reader

You’re his first girlfriend. He’d never bothered with anything serious before—it seemed too messy to trifle with. He doesn’t know why he suddenly decided. Suppose he’d been feeling a little bored, and something within him saw you as a fool-proof opportunity.

It wasn’t because you were anything special. Actually, it was more the opposite. You didn’t seem like too big of a risk. You were just a normal, honest, nice person—a bit of a loser, too, if he was being honest. He could do a lot better and pick someone of the same caliber as him, someone with a cooler style and presence, but then he’d only get caught up in the competition.

You were more to his appetite—a dorky, blushy lil’ nerd who giggled nervously at everything he said. In other words, no competition at all. You’d never dare break his heart because you frankly couldn’t afford it. And he found solace in that imbalance—knowing he held all the cards and that you could only be grateful he’d chosen you.

At least, that had been what he’d thought. But then, here you are, holding his hands from across the table in a cute little sundae café, telling him how this just can’t work anymore.

He’s confused for a whole minute before it sinks in.

You’re breaking up with him.

He’s confused afterward, too.

You’re breaking up with him?

That can’t be right. You must be joking. He almost laughs, almost cackles, but ends up staying completely silent. Something about that pitiful look in your eye makes his throat tight, and he almost thinks he’s going to cry instead. 

You’re breaking up with him. You, with him. His foot starts to tap. Have you hit your head or something? You’re dressed in a hoodie, for crying out loud, with not an ounce of make-up on—effortless, as if his perception of you wasn’t any of your concern while you’re fucking breaking up with him.

No way. There’s just no way. You must be confused about something, is all. There’s absolutely no way you’re doing this.

“What are you talking about?” It comes angry. Louder than he’d intended, enough to make you jolt in your seat. A couple of heads even turn your way. You wait for them to turn back before answering.

“I just think we’re a bit too different. And… I don’t know…” You were trying to find ways of telling him you weren’t in love with him but ended up deciding it was unnecessary—it wasn’t exactly something he needed to hear even though you had a lot you could say.

You’re rude and arrogant and treat me like some rescue pet you’ve nurtured back to health. You act like you’re embarrassed to be with me even though you’re the one without any friends. You’re selfish and spoiled and—

“If you don’t know, then there’s nothing to talk about. Quit being silly.” He has a furrow between his brows as he picks up the pink menu between the two of you, scanning the different types of milkshakes you could share and forget all about it. After all, you weren’t breaking up with him—that would just be absurd. “Let’s get strawberry.”

“No—”

“Guess we could get mango if you want that instead—”

“I’m not sharing drinks with you—”

“What? You tryna lose weight or something? Not like anyone but me is gonna see you when all you wear are those baggy hoodies all the time. Speaking of which, you should wear mine instead, they’d suit you better—”

“Listen.” You stop his rambling. “I’m not sharing drinks, and I’m not wearing your clothes. I’m not being silly, either. I’m being serious. It’s over—”

“No, it’s not.” His fist bangs against the table—the look in his eye on edge and twitchy. “I asked you why, and you had no good reason—so it’s not, not until you convince me.”

You had wanted to avoid it, but it seems he wouldn’t allow you the grace to spare him. That being said, you hadn’t meant to be so brutally honest…

“You’re a narcissist. You don’t treat me like a girlfriend. I’m more like a charity case or some type of experiment to you. Half the time, it feels as though you’re just playing a game with everyone in your life like pawns for you to shuffle around the board as you see fit.” You’re the one with the furrowed brows now, unable to bite your tongue as you’d kept it in all this time. “I think you should seek help and get your controlling tendencies straightened out before having any type of relationship. Or don’t. In any case, I don’t think I’m the right girl for you.”

There’s a silence. The chatter of the café seems distant. You feel half inclined to apologize as you look at him and stare down the glassy tabletop as if trying to find his reflection for comfort—but then he beats you to the punch.

“You’re right…” he starts softly, mustering the words, and you’re almost proud to see him take it so well, but then there’s a viscousness to his next words. “You’re not the right girl for me.”

When he looks up again, his face is warped—callous and seemingly disgusted by the sight of you. Something about it even seems to lash out at you, seeking revenge.

“I can’t believe I thought I saw something in you,” he sighs. “Turns out you’re exactly what everyone warned me you would be—just a plane-boring old Jane. What a joke—wasting so much time on something so worthless. Forget breaking up with me, I should have broken up with you a long time ago.”

He gets up in a rush and bears over the table, both palms laid flat upon the surface.

“Charity case?” he seethes, then conjures a fake laugh and an even faker grin. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Enjoy sitting here alone like the loser you are.”

And even though you’re the one watching him walk away while ordering a chocolate sundae for yourself, you can’t help but feel sorry for the poor guy… 

That had been the most emotion you’d ever witnessed come from him.

Obviously, he doesn’t take it very well, stumbling through the café before bursting out the door, but even he’s surprised by how disheveled it had made him. He’s hyperventilating when the fresh air hits him, almost sprinting to his car so that he can lock himself inside it.

But the car only makes it worse as he’s far from alone in there. You’re everywhere. On the hood, waiting for him with a smile. In the rearview mirror, waving at him. In the seat next to him with a pout, asking if you can stay over. In the backseat, naked with a coy twinkle in your eye.

He knows! He has some of your underwear at home—he’ll threaten to pass them around campus unless you beg him to take you back. No, what’s he thinking!? You’ll never come back to him that way. Fuck, what can he do, what’s he supposed to do!? He just called you worthless—what that fuck was he thinking?!

The tears startle him as they drip down and splash upon his whitening knuckles, where he grips the wheel for dear life even as the car stays completely still—safe and sound in the same plot.

There’s a light pink lip balm on the dash. Yours. You must have left it there—maybe on purpose? No… you don’t play games like that. You’d been honest in the café. The fact terrifies him—his heart seems to want to reject it at all costs, the way it tears in his chest.

He picks the slim pink stick up and rolls it around in his hand, which can’t seem to stop shaking. You’d sat on his lap in this very seat, laughing at something dumb he’d said while applying the very same balm on his lip—kissing his forehead while saying something sweet. He knows it wasn’t, but he imagines you’d whispered that you loved him.

When he smears the balm around his lips this time, he imagines kissing you and your soft lips and that everpresent smile he never bothered telling you was pretty.

He’s such an idiot. The birds in the parking lot take flight at the jostling of his car, but no one hears the roar.

And as he sits there in the following silence, wallowing in his own self-pity and regret, he can’t help but feel like the lead of some angsty teen romance.

And like the lead in an angsty teen romance, he swears… whatever it takes… he will win you back.

You will be his again.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Gojo, Naoya, some young type of Sukuna, or Toji ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Reo ♡ AOT – Eren

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[sistertotheknowitall]

“But to the BatFam? That is just Some Guy. A random dude - if you will.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m missing my spleen.”

“Oh cool, yeah, missing organs suck. I’m missing a kidney and part of my liver. Oh! And my gallbladder but that was more of a necessary evil, it was like, poisoning me or something.” Danny was so focused on applying pressure to his wound (and maybe being a bit too light headed) that he didn’t notice how silent his friend had gotten. Like-wise the comms had gone equally quiet as Gotham’s vigilante family realized that they knew very little about this kid.

It was concerning how quickly they all started to see him as a friend considering it was them as vigilantes he interacted with the most. Tim was the only one who saw him frequently when out of the suit because he was a regular at Danny’s day job. (He worked as a barista in the coffee shop Tim favored.) The others saw him occasionally but more often than not it was just in passing. Steph, Duke, and Dick had to stop themselves from approaching him on the street.

It was odd, one day he had just moved to Gotham, seeming to appear out of nowhere, and then the next he was a constant presence in their lives. Usually armed and ready with a concerning or odd quip, it had started with him being another victim of the city’s petty criminals and had snowballed from there.

Now it wasn’t like the bats saw Danny everyday, but it was expected that he would cross paths with at least three of them before the end of the week. They ran into him more often than any other Gothamite, including the criminals and rouges they fought.

At first the constant meetings by “coincidence” was suspicious. If he wasn’t the one being saved from a mugging, kidnapping, or city wide villain assault, then he was near by and trying to help.

(“Trying to help” usually meant drawing attention to himself so the original victim could escape. Once it had meant Danny armed with a baseball bat against four grown men. Bruce and Dick have tried to talk to him about putting himself in harms way but the kid is surprisingly elusive when he wants to be. Yet, even when avoiding Batman and his eldest, Danny could be found on the patrol route of another family member.)

But honestly? The guy seemed just as exhausted as they were of seeing each other. By the twelfth time in a month, Danny had accused them of stalking him.

The background check Bruce and Tim had run came back clean and he never seemed to be involved in the various criminal activities. He was just there, a weirdly unlucky bystander. So as far as Dick and the others could see, Danny was a completely normal dude. He just said strange things and wasn’t intimidated by them, he actually made it a point to be unhelpful sometimes. When trying to learn his name he gave them the run around for two months. (“I know about stranger danger. I don’t care how often you say you’re the ‘good guys.’ I’m not falling for it.”)

On one memorable occasion Danny had disappeared for a week and a half. When they started to assume the worse, he popped back up behind the counter at work. Tim had relaxed significantly when he entered the shop to Danny organizing pastries in the display case. Once he’d placed his order, the young CEO asked Danny if he’d been on vacation. To which Danny had just sighed and told Tim “I wish, but no I was called to court to handle some affairs I couldn’t get out of.” (After a check to see if Danny had gotten charged with something and coming back empty, Tim had concluded that it was an odd way to say he had had jury duty.)

Thinking about it now, outside a stray comment or two, Danny didn’t talk about himself or his life. They knew he didn’t have a good relationship with his parents, “they were much more goal oriented than that joke of a kidnapper, but I think drugs do that to a person.” (It was still unclear if he meant his parents were kidnappers themselves or on drugs.) They knew he had an older sister who would “kill me again if she finds out I was in another bank robbery.” They also knew he was, possibly, depressed after last week’s comment of “is it considered murder if you’re already dead but, like, still alive?” (Damian had saved him from a drug ring but after another “baby ninja” comment the young Robin had threatened to give Danny back to his would-be murderers.)

Dick knew Danny was a weird guy who never wanted to elaborate on the things he said. (Jason was still confused on what he meant by “rotted milk soul.”) That didn’t mean the comments themselves didn’t say a lot about him. And tonight’s comment, accompanied by the prominent and jagged autopsy scars, said more than Danny was probably willing to share.

[bisexualiteaa]

actually dying for a cooper howard x vaultie!reader smut where they have some slow burn longing steaminess, but coop thinks she’s too good for him UNTIL she comes in contact with a sex pollen-esque chem and he finally gives in to save her 🥵 please work your magic and elaborate however you want

A Flame in Your Heart

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW like absolutely filthy y’all, you’ve been warned. 💀 unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, p in v, p0rn w/ plot, slow burn, flirting, cursing, perverted thoughts, dub-con (because of chem usage though consent is asked and given!) rough sex, dirty talk, choking, praise kink, degradation, squirting, mention of fingering, FEELINGS!! Slight deviation from TV series, possible grammar/spelling mistakes, cooper starts off mean but slowly warms up to reader

AN: I absolutely LOVED this request! I was up all night writing down all my ideas and spent all this morning perfecting it, and this has to be my longest one yet! I thank you for your patience anon and my lovely readers as I finally post this! Hope you enjoy and that I have done your ask justice! ❤️

Life outside of the vault was difficult to say the least. You felt hunger and dehydration in ways you’d never experienced before, going out of your way to do desperate things you would normally never do in order to get said food and water. The heat was unbearable, every stretch of land you walked across had a danger lurking around every corner, and worst of all, you’d never felt so alone. You weren’t sure what it was about you, maybe it was because you were new to the surface, maybe it was your nearly perfect skin, but everyone seemed to stare or glare at you when you would walk through. It wasn’t until you’d passed through Filly, meeting Ma June that you realized people didn’t take kindly to people like you. “Vaulties” she called them, an audible disdain in her tone, making you look down to remember you were in your blue and gold Vault-Tec suit. “I’ll be going then, have a nice day!” You said skiddishly, offering her a kind smile before turning and exiting the shop. You just wanted to make friends, why was that so hard up here? So when your eyes set on a man clad in classic Wild West cowboy clothes, watching smoke settle after a stand off, you weren’t sure why but you knew that was who you needed on your side in this world. Before you knew it, your feet were already moving and mouth speaking to him, grabbing his attention.

“I ain’t no charity case sweetheart, I don’t take on strays” The ghoul spoke, his southern drawl making him even more memorable than the marred texture of his skin. You looked to the dog that trailed not far behind him as he walked, changing its pace to keep up with the man. “The dog there with you tells me otherwise” you quipped. “Ain’t my dog” he responded harshly as he continued walking. “I can make it worth your while!” You yelled, making him stop in his tracks for a moment, a scary sight at first before you worked up the nerve to come closer once he turned back to you. “And how you suppose you’d do that?” He asked, and at first you didn’t know what to say, the words leaving your mouth before you could really think of a good enough reason. Did nobody like company anymore these days? “Well…I can be your scavenger! Pretty good at collecting stuff” you offered, shaking your bag and making things rattle around inside to prove it, making him give a huff of a chuckle. “‘f I wanted a pack mule I’d‘ve found a brahman” he shot you down. “Okay, then I can be good company to talk to!” You offered. “They make radios for when I want to listen to someone yack” he shut down once again. “I’m a good cook! Even with shitty supplies, I can make a stew that’d put a smile even on the meanest son of a gun’s face” you said, hopeful that he’d at least take you for something, but you had a feeling he’d probably turn you down again. “Iguana on a stick’s just fine” he said, though he had to admit the stew sounded good. Reminded him of home before all this wasteland bullshit. “Oh, umm…” you said awkwardly, your tone growing quiet and my how it put a sad look in your eyes. The evil part of him liked it, seeing your sweet innocent face all downturned but the part that was still human deep down, the part that hardly ever saw the light of day anymore, had half a mind to let you.

“Got a lotta nerve walkin’ up t’ me, girly. If you somehow been lucky enough that you ain’t met dangerous yet, you’re lookin’ at someone who could put you down before you’d even mutter your last words” he threatened, motioning to the double barreled shotgun in his hands. “I know, I saw it first hand. You hold yourself well, I envy that. I’m new to all of this and just really want someone who can help me hold my own the same way” you explained. “Look, I know I don’t look like much but please just give me a chance” you begged, looking up at him with a fighting spirit in your eyes that he had to admit, he was pretty impressed in seeing in a vaultie. “You help me, I help you, however that ends up being” you offered, standing strong on this and damn if he didn’t see a little bit of himself in you at that. He gave a sigh, tilting his head down before shaking it, not believing himself for the words he was about to say. “Alright, but the minute you start draggin’ you’re out, got me?” He said, and he hated the way his cold heart seemed to pump a little faster upon seeing your eyes light up with joy and a smile stretch to your face. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, opening your arms up to hug him but being met with the barrel of his gun poking your stomach to keep space between you. “I don’t do hugs” he spoke gruffly, making you back up enough to where he’d drop the gun back to his side. “R-Right…sorry” you apologized, embarrassment washing over you but still glad to finally have someone in your company. “C’mon, I ain’t got all day now” he said, motioning you to start walking, so you joined him.

Your travels with him certainly weren’t at all what you were expecting them to be. From being used as bait, to being tied up with rope most of the time you’d traveled together, or being sent in as his scavenger, you weren’t prepared for a lot of the reality you faced with being up on the surface. Most nights made you question why you’d ever left the comfort of the vault, why you’d abandoned a trusty food supply, regulated temperatures, a safe place to sleep that wasn’t riddled with radroaches or had the likely hood of waking up to a raider with a knife at your throat for no reason. Then you would remember the experiment in your vault, why you left that awful place for arguably a worse reality on the surface but at least you had freedom. Out here you were free to say what you want, do what you want, consume what you want so long as you could defend yourself incase that supply wasn’t unclaimed. You’d gotten pretty handy with a gun in the most recent weeks. Cooper, you learned one night was his name, using empty glass bottles as targets to help teach you accuracy and how to hit things from a longer range. In exchange, you came a little more useful than he had first thought. You had some useful stuff on you for trade like chems, ammo and food, were a good extra bag to hold stuff in, and you were a better cook than you’d talked about. Sure you had a tendency to talk too much, and you weren’t great with a gun, but you were getting there.

“Might I suggest takin’ them clothes instead of wearin’ that suit?” He said, making you look at him weird for suggesting you strip a dead raider of their clothes. “Why would I do that…?” You asked, genuinely confused and not sure what he was implying either, he was a hard man to predict. “Because, people see that shit and get real mad. People up here don’t like vaulties or the ones that run ‘em” he said and it made sense, it helped you understand why you kept getting evil glares each time someone would look at you or talk to you. You figured he knew best, so you took the shirt and pants from one of the female raiders, tucking them into your bag to change into at a better time. He gave a chuckle watching you do so, apologizing to the dead body profusely as you took their clothes and whatever valuables they had on them for the betterment of your own survival. You were still so naive, part of him was hoping he could slowly start to break and corrupt your way of thinking, but that was a thought for another time.

Before you knew it, night finally began to fall. The sun setting across the horizon gave the air less of a hot, harsh bite as the temperature began to cool rapidly across the sands of the Mojave. All you managed to grab was a pair of beat up, old jeans and a tank top, so as soon as the sun set, the chill set in. As you both set up camp for the night just outside of an abandoned rest stop, you started a fire to cook some of that stew you talked about being good at. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good, likely the best thing he’s had since before the bombs went off. Though even the kindling fire couldn’t manage to chase the chill away, watching you run your hands up and down your arms to try and warm up some by it. He felt a slight pang in his heart, watching you shiver like that, how your eyes lit up by the blaze of the fire and your hair seemed to be tousled just right. You were pretty, too pretty to be trekking this wasteland, and certainly too pretty to be trekking it with him of all people as your company. Even he had a heart still, as cold as it was, so out of kindness he shrugged his duster from his shoulders, draping it around you. You looked at the fabric pooled around you, pulling it over you better before looking to him as he sat down across from you again. “Ain’t no use if the cold gets ya” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him as you realized what he did. “Thank you” you replied, a slight blush fanning to your cheeks as the chattering of your teeth finally died down and you grew warmer. It smelled like him, sure it had splatters of old dried blood and was rather worn, but it had that gunpowder and smoke smell to it that you associated with him. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya” he replied, trying to sound cold but it didn’t come off that way, making you chuckle. “What do I owe you?” You asked, making him fall silent for a moment as he pondered the answer to your question. He looked you over for a second before tipping his hat down to cover his face a bit, the signal that he was about to try and get some sleep. “Just keep watch for a bit, I’ll be up in a few hours” he responded, and while it wasn’t what you were expecting, you’d take it.

He was startled awake a couple hours later when he heard a commotion, you yelling at someone telling them to back off that this place had been claimed. The raider you were up against didn’t seem to like that very much, claiming that wasn’t how it worked up here. The altercation took a turn for the worst when the man reached for his gun but you were quick to fire and kill him before he could let out a shot. A shaky feeling set in your hands and a horrified expression across your face at the realization that you just killed someone. Cooper, who was certainly wide awake now, was rather impressed by your quick timing and precision, coming up behind you to lay a gloved hand to your shoulder. “Well would ya look at that, looks like them lessons been payin’ off after all. How’s it feel?” He asked, looking down at you as you stared at the gun in your hands. “He was yelling at me but…he was aiming at you. I don’t really know what came over me, I didn’t like that he was going to shoot you so I just…I killed him” you said, recounting the encounter to him as if he hadn’t seen it himself. He didn’t really know what to think in that moment as you explained how your mind worked, he was proud for sure at your show of improvement with a gun, yet also touched at the same time. No one ever really looked out for him since he started his bounty hunting, he was a well hated man by many but you defended him without really any reason to. You’d just learned his name not but two weeks ago, and before that he was dragging you around with rope yet you still defended him, had you two really gotten closer in the time that’s passed since? He wasn’t sure, but it was something he could mull over while you were sleeping. “Get some rest vaultie, sun’ll be up soon” he said, knowing you likely wouldn’t get much sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through you, but it was at least worth a try, you two had a long day ahead of you.

When you woke up that next morning, things felt a little different between you two. You weren’t some annoying little dog following him anymore, you were an equal. He no longer looked at you and treated you like you were lower than him as you both set out across the wastelands, he had respect for you. Hell, he even started talking with you now when you were out traveling which was almost unbelievable. You learned through those conversations that he used to be an actor in Wild West themed films, explaining his outfit, and that he was married before the bombs dropped. You of course told him bits and pieces about yourself in exchange, after all it only felt fair but it was also nice to just finally talk to someone after all this time.

When night time fell again you two sat enjoying a meal by the fire together, only rather than across from each other, he sat next to you, making a blush come to your face as you’d smiled sweetly at him. “Glad to know I don’t have germs anymore” you said jokingly, making him chuckle. “Give an old man some credit. It ain’t exactly all peaches and marmalade out here darlin’, even cute can be deadly” he said, the nickname and him calling you cute sending a deeper blush to your cheeks despite knowing it’s just how he spoke. Whether it was the lack of contact with other people for so long, or just his charm you couldn’t quite tell, but it always seemed to have an effect on you. “Just teasin’ you, I get it. I’d tie me up and use me for bait too if I’d been doing this as long as you have. It’s a shit hole out here” you said, making him look at you as you dropped the first curse word he’s ever heard from you. “Well I’ll be damned, either I’m a bad influence or you’re finally growin’ outta that naive shell there, vaultie” Cooper replied, making you laugh as you saw a smirk stretch to his thin, marred lips, the first one you’d seen in a while that wasn’t brought on by drugs, chems or that first sip of a good bottle of alcohol. “Probably both” you quipped, making him chuckle. “Yeah, probably. Been told I ain’t easy to stomach” he said, making you hum. “You’re alright in my book, Coop” you replied with a sweet, genuine smile that matched your tone and was that butterflies you felt in your stomach? Did you just call him Coop? No ones called him that in ages, why did it make his heart start to flutter a bit? “You ain’t so bad yourself, vaultie” he responded, still affording you that small smile before turning back to his food. “Keep making food this good and I just might have to keep you around” he joked, making you giggle and break the slightly tense silence. “It’s not much but I certainly try. I’ll definitely make sure to stay good at it, I like traveling with you” you said, unintentionally coming off flirtatious and fuck there it goes again, that feeling in his chest and his stomach like he needed to hit his inhaler but he felt great. What were you doing to him?

“Hey, if it isn’t too much can I ask you a sort of…personal question?” You asked, holding the beat up bowl in your hands as you looked over at him. This was normally the part where he would say no, absolutely not, he wasn’t here to be questioned on his personal matters. Yet, with you, it was different. Ever since last night he hasn’t been so on edge with you, it was like he’d warmed up to you. “Depends on what you’re askin’ there, sweetheart” he said, the nickname once again making you blush. “Do you…miss them? Your wife and daughter?” You asked, not sure if it was a good subject or good question to ask but after finding out, you were genuinely curious. He looked down at his bowl again, thinking of the proper response to your question. The old him would have been defensive, told you it was none of your business, but now? He wasn’t sure. “Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ‘em. About the way I ran out on ‘em when them bombs dropped” he answered, making you give him a sad look as genuine guilt filled his tone. This was the most honest and open he’s been with you this whole time. “I feel guilty. Not sure if I feel guilty for runnin’ out and leavin’ ‘em behind or guilty for the way I ran out, been tryin’ t’ figure that out for quite a while now and I still ain’t sure” he added, and you sympathized with that. Everyone has regrets, things they’ve done in the past that they aren’t proud of, people up here were no different in that aspect. “Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to understand that everything you do has a valid reason behind it. So even if you feel it was a shitty thing to do, you obviously had a reason for doing so. No one can blame you for trusting your gut, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for doing so” you responded, your hand falling to his as a comforting gesture, your words ringing in his head almost as if you’d opened something in his mind, something he’d never really gave himself to think about before. He looked down at your hand that rested on his, noticing the way you didn’t flinch away from him like others did, the way you were brave enough to walk up to him, talk to him, *trust* him when he made it very clear that you shouldn’t. It was smaller than his, softer for sure, but warm all the same, then he looked up to see that caring look in your eyes and smile on your face that told him that you cared. “Guess you’re right, still wonder sometimes if it was the right choice to make” he replied. “I understand. Everyone has regrets, we all look at the past and hold at least something that we’ve done before in regret, it’s what makes us human” you said, making him give a huff as a chuckle. “You got anybody?” He asked, making you look down as you moved your feet along the dirt. “An ex-husband, but not anyone I really care about, no. My parents passed a few years before the bombings and he and I split up when I caught him cheating on me with some other woman in the vault..” you explained, not sure why it hurt you to tell the tale still, but you felt it was only fair considering what you’d asked of him to share. “Sorry t’ hear that” Cooper said, making you chuckle weakly, a somber look coming to your face that made his heart wrench. “I haven’t exactly been in love since, and considering he and I split up just a little over ten years ago, really says something I guess, huh?” You asked, trying to laugh to bring up the mood, knowing you sounded pathetic. “He was the fool, not you darlin’. He was the one skippin’ out on one hell of a woman” Cooper said, making you look to him and blush a bit as you gave a chuckle at his response.

“Thanks” you replied appreciatively and with a smile before casting your gaze down to see your hands were still connected and it left you blushing harder with embarrassment, you’d been holding his hand this entire time without realizing it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I have I-“ “relax vaultie” he cut you off, pushing your hand back down onto his to assure you that he was far from uncomfortable. “It’s…rather nice actually” he admitted, making you feel relieved but your heart fluttered in your chest from it. A thick tension soon began to set in between you both after that night, something of an unspoken, kindling romance beginning to develop. “Then there it can stay” you said, making him smile softly at you, tipping his hat at you as a silent thank you.

Months passed on like this, where you’d spend the days scavenging, picking the land for its resources you could find and hunting bounties by day, then spending your nights by a fire growing closer and closer with every passing day. Through your shared meals, jokes, deep conversations, and plenty of near death experiences, you started to notice your fondness of the ghoul you traveled with. The way you’d hang onto his words with that southern accent that seemed to pull at your heart strings, or the way you’d go out of your way to stand between him and a stray bullet. You’d helped him on more than one occasion in getting out of a sticky spot, or getting him the stuff he needed to keep from turning feral. In return, he started to notice he was feeling the same towards you. There was this sudden need to keep you safe, to do nicer things for you, to speak better towards you, even flirt with you at times. Some nights there’d be so much tension in the air, it’s a miracle you haven’t jumped each other yet. Though in his eyes, as much as his heart yearned for you, he knew you were too good for him. You’d been hurt before, and he had a reputation for hurting people, feeling undeserving of even just the sweet smiles and company you afford him even now. You didn’t need someone like him, you needed a good man, someone who didn’t kill for a living, someone who could treat you right, someone who didn’t look the way he did. You were soft and warm, he was rough and cold, though he supposed that’s where the term “opposites attract” came from. So even when he was a whole bottle deep, he was sure to hold his tongue to a certain point.

Some of those nights around the fire were spent sober, others not so much, and this night happened to be one of those nights spent under the influence. You two had stumbled across a mini-mart, doing your best to out run the radstorm that had been trailing you guys for hours, coming in just to find whatever supplies you could to make it through the next week and possibly hunker down for the night. So imagine your surprise when you seemed to have found the largest chem stache you’d both ever laid eyes on. “Coop! Come here, you gotta see this” you said, making him run towards you to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. His nerves were eased once he saw you, fully intact. “Tell me I’m not seeing shit” you said, pointing to all of the supplies sitting in a box on the table, joined by other supplies around it. You both looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, this would keep you stocked for months, maybe even a whole year if you conserved it well. “Well ain’t that just the prettiest fuckin’ sight” he said. There was no way a horde of chems this large and this valuable was just completely unprotected you reasoned, so you routed around the place, scoping out for any raiders, straggling traders or ferals who happened to still be around. It was as if heaven was shining down on you both as you found no one around, seemed like no one had been here for days. So you did the most logical thing anyone would do in this situation. Stuff each of your bags to the brim of drugs of all varieties! Seeing as you had food, chems and even some clean water and alcohol lying around, Cooper locked and barricaded the door shut, proposing it could be a good spot to sleep for the night. With a radstorm approaching, it was best to have a roof over your heads to keep out the rain and potential radiation sickness that came with it. “This is the closest fuckin’ thing to a slice of heaven I’ve seen in ages” he said, aside from you is what played in his mind but he couldn’t speak that out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. “You said it!” you replied, and it’s even better with you here you thought, but thought it best to keep it to yourself. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up to rest on the small table that seemed to be in shambles, enjoying a tape that was playing on the TV that he was surprised to still see functioning. “Holy shit, this thing still works?” You asked, amazed to see working technology out in the wastelands, sitting next to him as you watched it with him. He gave a smirk at your reaction, thinking it was cute the way your eyes would light up when you got all excited over something. Deep down it made him want to give you everything you laid eyes on like that just to see it pointed towards him. “Guess so” he replied, enjoying your excitement only to see you turn and look his way, which was his signal to stop staring holes into you before he gets caught. “I dunno about you baby doll, but I ain’t about to spend tonight sober with this stache sittin’ here ‘n front of us” he said, making you laugh as he routed through all the different drugs and chems til he found what he was looking for.

In the process of searching through it all, a small metal box fell to the floor at your feet. It looked like a box of mentats only the design was different, instead of the characteristic green and white box was a red one covered with hearts labeled DN-Chem. You supposed the worst that could happen was turn into the man sitting next to you, which you figured wasn’t the worst fate to succumb to all things considered, so you went against all better judgement and said fuck it, popping two of the mentat like chems and chasing it with the vodka he’d found to wait for it to take effect. “The hell is DN?” He asked, looking at the box, wondering what it was you took. “Don’t know, guess we’ll find out here soon because I took two” you said, taking another sip from the bottle of vodka he passed your way, and he gave a chuckle as you handed it back to him. “You come a mighty long way, little lady” he commented before setting the metal pill box down. He took the bottle from you, taking a swig, then placing one of the small viles into his inhaler before taking a hit of it then lying back, breathing a sigh of relief as it and the alcohol entered his system like the perfect remedy to any ailment. As about a half an hour rolled by, you waited for the high to set in but it never came, instead you were just getting hot, like really hot. There weren’t any windows open, and it was night time so you shouldn’t be this uncomfortably hot for how it was but you felt like you were on fire. “Shit, it’s hot as hell in here…” you complained, shaking off your jacket that you’d picked off of some raider a few weeks back, making him look to you curiously. “Lightweight” he quipped, making you chuckle. “Accept I don’t feel anything, I just feel hot” you said, making him hum with intrigue before turning back to the TV. “Give it some time, you’re new to all this. ‘m sure your body is wonderin’ what the hell you just put in it” he said, and he had a good point, maybe it was just a side effect of not doing them so often compared to his every day use.

As time went on, you began to notice the way your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to him, more specifically glued to the way his legs were now spread as he sat back. You wondered to yourself what he looked like beneath all that cowboy get up, what his reaction would be like to see you getting on your knees for him and slotting yourself between his spread legs. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of such inappropriate thoughts, but what you couldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried was the feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. Sure he flirted with you every now and again, but you doubt he felt towards you the same way you did for him. To him you were sure you were likely more akin to a pet than a friend, useful and nice to have around, but not anything further. At least so you thought. You’d rather hoped you were wrong in assuming so, that maybe he saw you the same way you saw him. You bit your lip as you tried bouncing your leg to relieve the ache between your thighs, a light pink dusting your face and neck even up to the tips of your ears, but nothing worked. Even as you closed your eyes, all you could picture was you laid out on the couch beneath him, or bent over it with him behind you, or you riding him on it. “Been awful quiet. You doin’ alright over there, sweetheart?” Cooper asked you, and the audible whimper you let out from the nickname left you completely embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, god you were horrified but he gave a grin and a chuckle in response. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me all the sudden. I feel so…weird?” you said, unsure if that was really the proper word to explain it but it was the only way you could really word it off the top of your head with how much your brain felt as if it was turning to mush. “Ya took some chems, it’s gonna feel a bit fuzzy” he said, trying to assure you that feeling a little funny was normal, but this? This didn’t feel normal, not even for a chem high. You tried your best to swallow harshly, doing everything you could to try and relieve the dry ache you felt in your throat at the moment upon looking at him. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a few sips but even that couldn’t grant you bliss from it. The throbbing in your core was driving you absolutely insane. You swore up and down that it was like you could feel your heartbeat in your chest, stomach, and in your cunt all at the same time. “No, this is different…I don’t think what I took was a normal chem, Coop…” you said, trying not to panic at the effects that were setting in but god you felt like you were absolutely feral. He turned to look at you, watching as you clamped your thighs together and the red that fell over your face. “I feel like an animal in heat” you said bluntly, making him go into a near coughing fit as you took him off guard. However that piqued his interest enough to pick up the little metal box again to see what it was you took. “I ain’t ever heard of a chem that does that, was that DN shit the only stuff you took?” He asked, growing slightly concerned for you and whether he had a possible horde of laced chems, or just an extremely horny woman on his hands. Speaking of hands, you were lost in thought staring at them, at the way they gripped the couch like you wanted him to grip your thighs, at the way they looked in those leather gloves he always wore. You wondered how it would feel wrapped around your throat, or how it would feel if his fingers were buried deep inside of you. Shit. This was getting out of control.

“Hey, ya with me still?” He asked, snapping to try and get your attention back on the matter at hand, making you shake your head yes as you broke from your perverted thoughts. “Is that DN shit the only thing you took?” He asked again, making you shake your head yes once more, because you knew damn well your voice was going to betray you the moment you tried to speak. That had to be it, it was the only thing that was different out of it all and the only thing he’d never heard of before. He knew it wasn’t the vodka either because he was drinking it with you, so if it was affecting you, it would have affected him and it hadn’t.

It took him a minute to put two and two together before he finally realized the abbreviations stood for Date Night, reading the instructions and effects on the inside of the tin’s lid. “Shit..” he said as he read it, realizing this was a hand made thing thrown into the bunch by whoever was running this place. “Did you read the lid before you popped them pills?” He asked, making you go wide eyed. As if this couldn’t get any fucking worse, this shit show could have been avoided had you just read the inside of the lid. “There was instructions?? Oh my god…what the fuck did I take?” You asked, concerned for yourself and the tone he had while reading it. “Somethin’ that the creator of it called Date Night. Looks like it’s a…well looks like it’s a handmade sex chem” he said, making you cover your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment, you’d never wanted to die out in a radstorm more than you did right now. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, cooper…” you whined, watching him read it more. “How much of it did you take?” He asked, almost scared to know and you were scared to know why. “Two?” You replied, making him whistle at that as he read it. “Fuckin’ hell sugar..” he said through a chuckle, and that nickname made a shiver run through you, sending electric bolts straight to your throbbing cunt. You did your best to bite back the whimper. “You’re only s’possed take one, and with you bein’ new t’ all this, I wouldn’t have taken more than half” he said, making you just wish you could just dig a hole and die in it already. “Fuck me…wait, shit! N-Not literally fuck me I- well I mean I’d like if you did but…FUCK! Forgive me Cooper, I’m so sorry, I can hardly think straight” you said, making him chuckle. “Well sweetheart, I think you and I both know there’s only one good fix for this situation” he said, making you whimper pathetically at the thought, your thighs squeezing together even more as you tried to fight to stay sane. Your eyes cast downwards to his lap once more, seeing the tent forming in his pants, clearly you weren’t the only one all worked up here. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, Coop. I can run off and take care of myself if it makes you uncomfort-“ you rambled but before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You moaned into it without meaning to, feeling the way your body immediately relaxed upon wrapping your arms around him with no hesitation as the sweet innocent kiss turned passionate and dirty rather quickly.

“I won’t lie t’ you, doin’ this with you has passed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but I don’t wanna cross that line unless you really want this” he said, looking into your eyes and making sure that this was truly what you wanted, that you felt the same way he did. “Coop, I know I’m under the influence of whatever the fuck this drug is, but trust me when I say, I’d be just as good with it sober. Been thinking about it for probably just as long as you have, if I’m honest with you. I want this, I want you and right now I want you so fucking bad that I might lose my mind if you don’t fuck me” you answered bluntly, taking him by surprise at just the sheer amount of absolute filth that left your otherwise innocent mouth, making him chuckle at your use of curse words and how desperate you were for him. “That so sugar?” He asked with a grin, enjoying teasing you at your neediest moments, including now. “God yes, Cooper please..” you begged, nearly moaning in reply and he’d spent time mulling over it before, denying himself the chance but just as the chem stache was a pot of gold, he took this as one of the best opportunities being placed in his lap by whatever higher power existed out there, making him waste no time in kissing you once more. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back once we’ve started” he said, and the idea made you moan. “Don’t want you to hold back, want all of you” you said, and your wish was his command.

By the time your brain could finally catch up with you again, your clothes were strewn out all around you, your tank top hanging over the back of the couch, your jeans thrown haphazardly on the arm rest behind you, his pants on the floor, his hat on the table and shirt and duster having fallen somewhere behind the couch. By now, you’d already cum on his fingers twice, and on his cock once, this was your fourth round and this shit still had you on fire. “Yes!! Oh fuck, Cooper!” you moaned as your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close to you as you could get, your fingers digging crescent shapes and puffy red lines into his back that unfortunately he knew wouldn’t stay long thanks to his ability to heal stupidly fast. “Doin’ so good for me, baby doll. Look so pretty like this for me, all splayed out like a needy little whore” he praised and degraded through his groans, making you moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise mixed with degradation as his cock was drilling deep inside you like tonight was all you guys had. “Yeah, you like that, huh sweet thing? Like it when I tell you how good it feels and call you names?” He asked, making you nod your head yes because there wasn’t a single thought in that brain of yours other than his name, which you spoke like a mantra. “Never knew such a sweet lil’ thing like you would be such a dirty little minx. Fuck…enough to make a man like me go feral, ya know that?” he said, making you giggle as you moved his free hand up to your throat, urging him to choke you, and he groaned at the sight. Your kiss swollen lips all puffy and shining with spit, your cheeks dusted a constant pink that grew darker anytime his cock brushed that spot deep inside that made you cling to him, your eyes half lidded, looking up at him like he was your savior. It made him absolutely rock hard knowing you’d pick him over anyone else in this god forsaken wasteland. “My, you are just a little freak, ain’t you? Oh we are gonna have fun together, you and me honey” he promised, squeezing your throat tight enough to restrict your airflow but not enough to hurt or cause any damage. Just enough to get that puddle of a brain of yours all fuzzy as you got closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. “Cooper…’m so close, so close please!!” You begged, feeling the heavy drag of his cock as he pounded into you, leaving you damn near screaming as it nudged your cervix and that spongy little bundle of nerves deep inside. “Go on honey, I gotchya. Let go for me, wanna see those pretty faces and hear those pretty noises you make” he said, angling his hips just right to hit that spot over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again, I-“ you warned before your moans rose in pitch as your walls clamped around him, gushing on his cock as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body arched off the couch, stars filling your vision for a moment as you felt your release gush out and coat your inner thighs, screaming his name like it was your only chance at salvation. “Well ain’t I just the damn luckiest man in the wastelands right now, got me a pretty little vaultie and she’s a gusher” he said, making you whimper at his teasing but judging by the way he emptied himself inside you for the second time, you took it as a sign that he liked that about you. “Holy shit, I-I didn’t know I could do that” you said, thoroughly shocked with what your brain and body were doing as they almost seemed to almost be working against each other. “Do it again for me” he said, grabbing you and moving you both to where you were straddling him this time. His hands rested on your hips, helping guide you as you speared yourself on his dick with ease from how absolutely soaked you were, making you both throw your head back and moan. “Now that’s a damn good sight” he said, making you lean in to kiss him once more as his hands helped you start and keep a steady rhythm with your hips. It was definitely going to be a long night, but one you two have been needing for months, maybe even longer.

It’s a good thing ghouls have remarkable recovery time, because in order to finally get you sated and back to normal, you both had to spend all night going at it. Granted, it was aided by the mix of pent up sexual tension and pent up sexual frustration, but it was dawn before you both had gotten to a point where you could even *try* and fall sleep. First few times was on the couch between missionary, doggy and you riding him, next was you bent over it, with your pretty legs spread and ass in the air for him. Then, you used the arm rest of the couch as a pillow beneath your hips as he stood up while you laid out on the couch. He liked that one a lot for the way your tits would bounce with each and every forceful thrust into you, jolting your body. After that, it was done standing up with your back pressed against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around him to keep him deep inside of you and fill you til he had nothing left to give you. From that point on, the rest of the night was all a hormone-hazed blur, but you knew well that he took care of you. You woke up unbelievably sore, your joints aching in places that you had no idea could even ache, a swollen, angry throb between your legs for the harsh, almost punishing treatment to your pussy followed by bruises, bite marks, scratch marks, hand prints etc. littered your skin as you woke up curled into Cooper’s side. You gave a gravelly groan as the sun shone in your eyes through the windows, making him chuckle at the way you were such a ray of sunshine except in the morning. Coming to learn that you absolutely *hated* mornings. Though you suppose you started to enjoy them more since traveling with him. “Mornin’ sunshine” he said coyly, making you groan disapprovingly at the way the sun was in your eyes, making you hold your hand up to cast a shadow on your face and grant you some relief. “Morning” you answered, your voice hoarse and half gone from sleep and all your activities that transpired the previous night. “Ain’t that a pretty sight” he said, turning and seeing you curled up to him, naked, your hair all messy from sleep and the hickeys and bite marks littering your skin, making you chuckle. “Last night was definitely something, can’t believe you’ve been holding all *that* out on me” you joked, making him give a dry laugh. “Could say the same thing about you, sugar. Had no idea that mind a yours could be so filthy. You’re a wild thing to party with, lil’ lady” he teased, sliding his arm around you to keep you close, making you hum as you lay soft, appreciative kisses to his collarbone and chest. “You’re fun too, and thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry that it ended up happening the way that it did, I wanted to work up the courage and tell you some other way, I really did, but I guess life had other plans” you said making him chuckle as he saw you blush when he kissed your head. “Drunk words are sober thoughts they say, so I’d say I made out pretty good. But don’t sweat it, not sure how I deserved someone as good as you, but it’s good to know I ain’t as hard to stomach as most people say” he said, pulling you in for a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I think you are just perfect, Cooper” you said, your hand resting on his scarred chest as you looked at him with that gaze he swore he’d do anything to see pointed his way.

“You really wanna be my girl?” He asked softly, sounding shocked and with some self doubt still lacing his tone, but he had to be sure this was what you wanted outside of the drug’s effects. He cared for you deeply, in a way that he hasn’t felt in a very long time, but maybe you were just the right person for him to finally open his heart up to. His question made you giggle as your heart fluttered in your chest with excitement. “I absolutely do, I meant it when I said it last night, I mean it just as much now. I think we’ve danced around it for long enough, don’t you?” you replied, making him smile the most genuinely happy smile you’ve seen him wear since you’d met. “Just checkin’” he said, before laying a sweet kiss to your lips, wishing every morning could be like this one. Maybe it could, now that you were here with him.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | oneshot angst [18+]

title. let me be free of you

He would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you.

ᰔ pairing. friends to strangers au - best friend!gojo x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru, your love of a lifetime, tells you he’s engaged to another woman. inspired by the novel & netflix series “one day” created by david nicholls

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, angst, mentions of sex/explicit content, coming of age themes, reader & gojo are in their 30s, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of alcohol, cheating, lots of mutual pining & longing, bittersweet ending

ᰔ word count. 4.8k

a/n. hellooo! i've had this finished in my wips folder for a long time but never got around to posting it sooo just wanted to let it see the light of day haha. hope you enjoyyy <33

➸ masterlist

“I’m engaged.”

The words leave Gojo’s lips as much less of a confession and more like a blabber, like a toddler desperate to keep conversation going in the face of a disinterested adult. Wasn’t how he expected to share the news of a lifetime to the love of his lifetime, but he hopes it breaks your heart to hear it. 

He watches your eyebrows flatten from the crease that was bothering them before, and then slowly raise into soft arches above your eyes–those damn beautiful eyes that, even when they twinkle with hurt, still make his heart skip a beat in his chest.

He recalls for a moment the night the two of you met, drunk and dizzy from drinking out of a shared bottle of Prosecco, which only had half of the liquor left in it to start when he had first found it bleeding out to dry on the grassy lawn at the front of your university. It was graduation night, the last day to celebrate finishing four years of hell, and he had nothing to his name other than a rolled up diploma shoved in the pocket of his suit pants and the charm left in the youth of his smile. He wanted to spend the night with Aiko Rei, which was not a unique desire as most men on campus did, and he had a fair shot of getting into bed with her just like all those times before. But instead he was sitting at the top of a staircase inside the campus’s English literature building, making history in the crisp year of 1986 by being the first man of the robust age of twenty-three to pass up sex with the school’s lady heartthrob for–well, conversation with a sort of ditsy girl that he just met a half hour ago.

“What do you plan to do with your life?” he heard you ask him, a hard enough question to stomach when one is sober, and an impossible question to stomach when one is already trying not to puke flat Prosecco.

“Pardon?” he asked, in hopes to dissuade you from the question. In hopes that you’d get the hint. But you don’t. And he’d soon learn throughout the years of your friendship to come that you never did.

“Your life!” you exclaim, “we’re graduates now! What do you want to do with it?” You pat harshly at his thigh, closer to his groin than to his pocket, most likely because you’re tipsy too, but he realizes you’re referring to the rolled up paper protruding at the pocket. 

Truthfully, Gojo had never thought much about what he wanted to do after graduation. Hell, he didn’t even think he’d make it this far. Not once since he got here, not once since he flunked out of first-year history, not once since his father passed away during his third-year final examinations, and most certainly not after he got caught having “unethical affairs” with his communications professor just two months ago. And yet the esteemed board of scholars decided he was fit for a diploma anyway, and now he’s answering to, effectively, a stranger what he plans to do with said piece of paper.

“I don’t know,” he says to you, “I’ll do whatever.” 

Gojo Satoru could get by with doing whatever. He was good at everything he did. But his teachers and mentors and his own father would always warn him– son, it’s better to be an expert at one than a half-assed show-off in all. Well, they wouldn’t use the expletives, but that’s what it had sounded like in his head.

His dad would’ve liked you. He was always telling him to find a girl that challenges him, asks him the right questions, and pushes him to become a better man, the kind of woman his mother was to his father. Much opposed to the airheaded girls of Gojo’s college campus he would sneak into the house and forget to shoo off before sunrise, an occurrence that happened enough times for the respect in his father’s eyes to dwindle with each woman he’d watch his son dispel from their residence. Until eventually, Gojo started paying rent as punishment.

So, twenty-three year old Gojo, what do you plan to do with your life? Or do you have no idea of anything that extends beyond where you are right now, sitting across this strange girl you’ve just met on the death of your educational youth, at the top of a stairwell lined with passed out, drunk newly grads at nearly 4 in the morning? Right now, he’s eyeing the hem of your dress, the way it’s ridden up slightly but the mesh overskirt still tickles the skin of your thigh. He’s certainly able to picture what’s beyond that fabric, and maybe imagine the color of your panties, but what’s to come for his life? No. As previously mentioned, he never thought he’d get this far.

Gojo is thirty-four now, eleven years since that night the two of you met. And he sits next to you on a garden bench under a pitch black sky with stars speckled across, but only dimly visible. 

It’s been years since he’s seen you. You two had a “falling out” at the cusp of thirty, almost a decade of friendship fizzled away, because of his selfish actions. He couldn’t let you go, but he couldn’t want you the way you wanted him either. He didn’t feel like he deserved to have you. You were too good for him, and he knew it. So he wasted a decade chasing after other women, and in return, he lost the one he knew he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with.

It’s the night of your college roommate‘s wedding, all gathered here today to celebrate their love, and he knew he’d run into you here. You were the bride’s maiden of honor, and you looked beautiful. With your hair half tied up, a pretty clip twinkling with every movement of your head, and with strands falling down over the smooth curve of your neck, bare skin of your chest tightly covered by the nude fabric of your dress. He was fully lusting after you, and he has been all night, the picture of beauty and grace, and it was wrong. Because, again, he’s–

“You’re engaged?” you finally break through his thoughts, break through the trance that he was lost in by the sea of your eyes. Forever pulling him in like you were a wicked siren for his soul, when all you’ve ever wanted from him was his love.

He shifts a little, the thick fabric of his navy blue suit stretching with the movement as he fidgets with his hands in his lap. He’s sitting close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours, the contrast of his broad masculinity so evident against the feminine curve of your bare arm, the thin strap holding up your dress threatening to fall down the hill. His thumb twitches, because he wants to pull it back up into place for you like a gentleman, but he’s not sure if that’s what his hand would actually do. Because all he really wants to do is peel the dress off of you. 

“Yes,” he says, still tantalized by the glow of your skin under pale moonlight, “engaged.”

“To be married?”

“Well, what other kind of engaged is there?”

“You’re not allowed to get married.”

He snorts. “Says who?”

“Says me!” you exclaim, sitting up straighter, "I turn my back for one moment, and you've gone an got engaged? You're awful!" The strap of your dress falls down over your shoulder, his eyes immediately darting to it. He sees you pull the strap up back into place, and a flit of his eyes to your face reveals to him the slight dusting of an embarrassed pink to your cheeks. 

There’s a silence that settles between the two of you. Distant commotion is heard, likely from the wedding venue as people engage in reception activities and dances and cheers, while the two of you remain in this garden escape, the wall of primly trimmed bushes sheltering you two from having to pretend to be people you’re not amongst a crowd.

“Aiko…” he hears you say beside him, and although the name of the woman that has rolled off your tongue is the name of the woman he’s supposed to love, it only makes him feel sick to his stomach to hear you say her name. “She seems lovely.”

“She is,” is all he can manage to say. And he also knows this seemingly lovely woman is probably drunk off her face back at the reception hall, giggling at all the men that approach her from the sight of her flushed face, and he should feel some sort of jealousy or possessiveness over that, but he can’t seem to muster any. Unlike the grit he had to his jaw an hour ago when he saw you dancing with a man he heard you introduce to your friends as just an “old friend” of yours from college. He felt more anger in that moment than he’d ever felt watching his soon-to-be-wife getting talked up to by the sleazy men twice her age. 

“She must be very rich,” you say. “She looks it.”

“Oh. Yeah. Her family’s very well off,” Gojo says.

“So will you become rich too?” you ask him, “when you marry her.”

His eyes flit to the sky briefly. “Doubt it.”

“How come?”

“The old man doesn’t like me very much. I imagine he’ll cut ties after the wedding.”

“Her father?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“Well. I guess it’s not every father’s dream to find out his prim and proper daughter’s been knocked up by the good-for-nothing boyfriend he’s been threatening her to say good riddance to for months now.”

The silence finds the two of you again, but this time haunting and gutting. That was a blabber, if anything. So nonchalantly said, with no emotion or spirit, to the one person in this world who he’s always felt like he can be himself around.

“She’s pregnant?” you say beside him, voice breaking slightly at the end, and he can’t bear to look at you for some reason. Some sort of admission of guilt, but what for? What exactly was he repenting for?

He lets out a small laugh, like the absurdity of the situation finds him all the same. “Yeah.” 

“That–” you start, stiff next to him, before he feels the tension relax but only rigidly, “that’s wonderful, Satoru. I’m–...I’m really happy for you.” You turn your torso to wrap your arms around him, and his lips brush the sweet skin on your forehead as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He wraps one arm around you, a sort of friendly hug as he rubs the skin of your arm soothingly, and his heart aches from the emptiness when you release him. 

“Wow…” you say, looking up at him with pretty eyes, eyelashes fluttering as you blink rapidly to process the information, and he wonders if you really are happy for him. He doesn’t want you to be. He wants you to be furious, to tell him off for getting another woman pregnant after leading you on for so many years, maybe he wants you to slap him, or grab him by the collar of his shirt and shake him until all he sees is a million of you through dizzy vision like some paradise. He wants you to be mad, because it’d mean that you still care. It’d mean that you still think there’s something here to salvage between the two of you. 

But he’s engaged. And he’s having a baby. What was more final than that?

“So…are you marrying her because of–”

“The wedding is in four weeks,” he cuts you off, but he knows the statement answers your question regardless.

“Satoru…”

He leans off to the side a little to reach into the pocket of his suit pants, and he pulls out what is now a slightly bent envelope and he hands it to you. You take it from him gently, holding it weakly like it was something beyond you. Like something distant and foreign and strange. When all it was, is a wedding invitation. 

“Listen…” he starts.

He sees your eyes dazed as you stare at the lettering on the outside of the envelope.

“We’ve been friends for a long time, y/n. And I know the last time we saw each other was–” Hostile. Angry. Disappointing. Ended with you cussing him out on the street and then saying you never want to see him again. “...not ideal, but I still care a lot about you, and, uh, so, it would mean a lot to me if you came to the wedding.” For fucks sake, even on the brink of losing you forever, he still can’t find the right words to say. “Aiko, she–” He tastes bitter in his mouth, “well, I’ve told her a lot about you, and she’d really love it if you came as well.”

You’re silent as you gently peel back the opening of the letter and then pull out the small card stock invitation. The gold printed letters shine as you inspect it, fingers tracing the patterns of words that profess the Rei family’s intent to wed their daughter to Gojo Satoru. Your Gojo Satoru. Your best friend in this whole wide world. He watches your eyes carefully, but he can’t discern what he finds in them.

“Gojo Satoru…” you drone off, “to be wed. And to be a father.” Years of late night talks of the future, of kids and Christmas and love, with reality seemingly sly on the horizon only to have crept up so abruptly. It was pinched between your fingers right now. That reality.

His shoulders sulk slightly. And when you look up at him again, there’s a sheen of tears in your eyes.

“I can’t come to this,” you whisper, “and you know that, Satoru.”

His heart breaks. A physical pain that twists in his chest so tight at just the sight of seeing you sad. Sad again over the actions of his own. They say you always hurt the one you love, and he had always wondered what sort of evil person would do such a thing, only to find out he’s only ever hurt you this entire time. 

He should’ve kissed you that night the two of you met at graduation. Should’ve shut you up and all your existential questions by pinning you to a wall and pressing his lips against yours. He should’ve taken you to bed and fucked you, and then held you in his arms until you woke up in the morning. Should’ve listened to you talk his ear off about how he’s just like all the other guys, who pretend to care, but only want to have sex and then never to speak to the girl ever again. And he should’ve laid there in bed, nose nuzzled in your hair, taking all the scolding despite having no intent to ever leave you.

Instead, he wasted so much time. Sure, he had your friendship. His best friend for years, but the two of you could’ve been something more. Could’ve spent the years together, instead of writing stained letters or leaving messages on answering machines while the two of you were miles away. He could’ve been waking up with you every morning with the scent of your shampoo on his sheets, instead of clinging to pillows in foreign motel rooms. He could’ve been engaged to you, and he could be whispering sweet nothings in your ear of how much he wishes the baby will have your eyes. 

But his thoughts are lost in fantasy. He is what he’s done, nothing more and nothing less. His eyes fall to your lap, the invitation still held loosely in your hand, and then a droplet of water falls onto it.

“I–” you stutter, wiping at the tears spilling down your cheeks with a hesitant swipe of your hand, “I need to go.”

You stand up off the bench and he quickly stands up with you, grabbing your wrist to keep you here with him, and you halt but only with you facing away from him. He yanks at your wrist harshly, pulling you into him so his chest is flush to your back, his arms wrapping strongly around you and his nose nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in greedily like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance.

“Satoru–” you gasp, your hands immediately grabbing at his forearms that are tightly crossed across your collarbone. “What are you doing–” 

“Say it,” he whispers, gruff and impatient, “tell me to do it, and I will.”

“T-Tell you to do what?” you stutter, struggling a little in his hold but he only holds you tighter.

“Tell me to leave her, and I will,” he says, his lips brushing at your ear now, the scent of your perfume maddening to his senses, and one of his hands slowly trails down and the knuckle of his thumb presses into the softness of your breast.

You squirm, a small and soft moan leaving your lips.

“T–” you breathe in harshly, “this is wrong.” 

“I don’t care,” he growls, arms sliding lower to hold you under your breasts, so tightly that your heels lift off the ground. “Just say the word, and I’ll leave everything behind for you. I promise,” he breathes in deep, the desperation making his head hazy, “that I’ll do things right this time. Just you and me–” 

“You’re going to be a father,” you remind him, and he shuts his eyes closed tightly, the responsibility of the word bearing on his shoulders but his desire for you overshadows every shred of sense or dignity or integrity he has left in him, because he felt like he was losing his mind after wanting you for years just to never have you. 

He turns you around in his hold so that you face him, and he crashes his lips to yours, muffling the surprised mmf! that dies in your throat in surprise as his hands hold your waist, relishing in the feeling of satin fabric pulled taut over your curves.

Forbidden, yet a taste that he’ll risk because there was no curse that was worse than the fate of having to pine after you for years.

Ah.

But.

But it was all fantasy, this moment in his head, where he takes you on the freshly cut grass of this garden. 

Something that only briefly flashes through his mind as his warm hand wraps around your wrist, from where he was still seated on the stone bench, and not on his feet holding you like he dreamed for. Like he longed for.

He feels the weight of his arm so heavily, as if it weren’t his own, and he slowly lets go of your wrist.

When he looks up at you, there’s longing in your eyes. A hurt that he didn’t even know he was capable of causing, just for him to realize that you’ve always looked at him that way, and he’s never been keen enough to know it until now. He grew up too late. He took too long.

His phone starts buzzing in his pocket, and he reaches in for it, then flips it open and sees his soon-to-be-wife’s name on it. He feels nothing at the sight.

“Hello?” he speaks into the device when he holds it to his ear, and he sees you take a couple steps away, rubbing anxiously at your elbow as you pretend to busy yourself with the study of the lamp. “Yes, I’ll be there soon. I, uh, I’m just with a friend. A couple of friends, actually. We’re having drinks by the pond. Mhm. Yes. I will. Okay, see you soon. I—…I love you too. Bye.” And then he snaps the phone shut. 

“Heading back?” he hears you ask.

He stands. “I’ve got to.”

“Okay.” 

You two walk down the shrubbery of the garden that was arranged like a maze, him a few paces behind you, and he watches the delicate line of your posture as your hand brushes against the green walls of foliage that encase the two of you, the feeling of wanting to touch you and hold you almost suffocating. 

“Hey,” he calls out to you, and he shoves his hands in his suit pockets. You turn around immediately to face him, like his voice was permission to do so.

“Yes?” you ask.

He blinks up at the starry sky, and then looks at you again. The soft cast of distant warm lighting falls over your face, making you appear like a renaissance painting, similar to those that you would point out to him at museums when you two would see each other on holiday back in your early twenties. He could never understand the charm of those paintings, no matter how many times you tried to explain it to him, but seeing you in this light right now, he finally understands the beauty that you saw. 

“I’m, uh,” he rubs at the back of his neck, and then scoffs out a small laugh, “I’m a little drunk right now, but–” He stops himself. What was he trying to say? And was it of conscious mind? “I just need to tell you that…I really regret…not speaking to you. I mean, for letting the silence drag on for years. You’re my–...my best friend. We’re a pair, you know? The two of us. For years, people would ask me where you were. And why they haven’t seen us together at all recently. And it was hard to admit that we hadn’t spoken in years.”

You take the smallest of steps towards him, and look up at him with empty eyes. 

“What I’m trying to say is, is that, well,” he finds himself tripping over his words, “I miss you. And I miss our friendship. And–...I miss having you around.” He glances down at his shoes, polished and reflecting off the moonlight directly above him. He rocks back and forth on his heels ever so slightly. “I know you said that I piss you off to lengths unimaginable to my tiny pea-sized brain, but I can’t help myself, y/n,” he admits, “I think you and I, we’re just meant to always be. In some how, or some way…”

You purse your lips together, gaze shifting lower to eye at the silk of his tie. 

“Can we be friends again?” he asks, the words feeling juvenile on his tongue. Like whispered apologies between children on a playground after shoving one another onto wooden chips, except the wounds he’s left on you run much deeper than a superficial scrape. 

You blink slowly, tilting your head up at him. “Friends?”

“Friends.”

You wipe your palm off on the satin of your dress. “I missed you too, you know.”

His eyes widened slightly.

Your hand finds its way up your arm, until you weakly cup your elbow with your palm and look off to the side, avoiding eye contact with him. “There were so many years where I thought that there was something between us. And maybe I was foolish for thinking that way, that you would ever see me that way–”

“y/n,” he tries to interrupt you. 

“But…the pain of not having you the way I wanted to was much less worse than the pain of not having you at all,” you say, your gaze finally shifting towards him. “But, the thing is, I needed to feel that pain to get over you. I had to.”

His heart stills at those words.

You glance down at the ground now. “I missed being able to tell you things. To laugh, and cry, and argue. I miss humbling your stupid ego. I miss being able to call you at any time, knowing you’d pick up when I needed you.”

His heart aches so much he wants to reach into his chest and hold it.

“The thing is,” you continue, “you would’ve been the first person I would’ve run to to tell them that I lost my best friend.” There were tears shining in your eyes. “But what could I do when you were the one that I had lost? Who could I have turned to then?”

He lets out a shaky breath, and in a swift motion, his arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you to him in an embrace.

You’re stiff in his hold, mechanical and rigid, so contrary to the soft tears you leave behind on the fabric of his sleeve, but slowly and surely, you warm and thaw. Your hands slide up past his shoulders, linking behind his neck. And his head drops to the curve of your neck, swaying you with him slowly as if it were a first dance.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “for hurting you.”

You breathe out slowly. “Just let me go, Satoru. Let me be free. Let me be free of you.”

He feels the air knock out of his lungs, and the two of you slowly pull your heads away from the embrace to look at one another, although your hands still find a place on his shoulders, and he still holds you close to him by a delicate hold of your waist. 

He wonders if in another life, you two were happy. He wonders if he could ever take back all the decisions he made, and start all over again. On that day the two of you met on that staircase in the west wing of the literature building, he would make a different choice. If he could, he would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you. 

“It’s time for me to go,” you whisper, eyes darting across the features of his face, studying them but with a familiarity that only you know, because you held his entire life in your palm. Your gaze meets his again, faces just inches apart, and the sweet curl of your eyelashes makes him weak in the knees. “It’s time.”

He nods slowly, his own eyes studying your face as well, except it looks foreign to him now. 

It’s all been said and done. There was nothing he could do to right the wrongs, or undo all the pain. He was to be a father now, and his duties were now towards his wife and unborn child. And no longer to the woman he holds in his arms, one he’s sure he will never stop loving for as long as he lives. 

It’s a sweet moment, the two of you gazing at one another. You look so pretty from this angle, looking up at him with the smallest tilt to your head and round searching eyes. His head subconsciously dips down towards yours in the second that he glances at your lips, but he stops himself. And when you make no move to create distance, he finds himself closing it again, until his lips brush against yours ever so softly. And then he captures them in a kiss, firm and unmistaken, finding solace in the way your lips move against his too, unsure yet passionately at the same time. Your fingers ever so slightly dig into his shoulders while his thumbs soothe at the skin of your waist, the two of you savoring the last moments of a kiss that’ll be the sweetest one you’ll ever know.

You pull away first, a small puff of air leaving your lips as you glance downwards. He rests his forehead against yours, never once looking away from your face. And you both breathe slowly, the soul of the chaste kiss entirely vanishing into the air along with all the hope that the two of you had left to make anything of the way you feel about one another. It was a kiss that almost disqualified any level of sin or guilt or wrong, because it was like one you two owed each other, after years of familiarity and longing. It was the goodbye that the two of you deserved.

His hands slowly let go of your waist, and he takes a step back away from you, softly clearing his throat. The distance feels like a galaxy away, and he briefly runs his thumb along his bottom lip, because the ghostly feeling of your lips on his still remains. 

“Shall we head back?” you ask him, prim and proper in posture and eyes widened in a formal gaze.

His lips are parted, and he finds that he’s panting slightly. And then he slowly nods his head. “Yes.”

.

.

.

[the end] 

a/n. i am sooooo freaking obsessed w "one day" by david nicholls and really wanted to write something inspired by it!! the book literally ripped my heart out and stomped on it like there were so many scenes where i just longingly stared out the window because of how shattering it was but dear god i really enjoyed it, and the show was also so dfkjhsfkhs i had sm feels watching it. so yea this was fun to write!! i hope you enjoyedd n thanks so much for reading :)

➸ masterlist

[fantasyyluvr]

Bat-Boys in Bed

I couldn’t find a good gif, sue me

Dick Grayson’s mouth is filthy. And he gets enough praise, so I think he’d be into praising you instead.” You’re so pretty, all fucked-out and dumb…just for me” as he pounds into you, panting in between words.

He’d also be into touchy sex positions, like missionary where he can hook his nose into your neck and wrap his arms around you. Dick would be into you giving him hickies.

I think Dick has an insane stamina—round after round. His hips would meet yours at a punishing pace as he muttered out praise,” this cunt is so warm and wet for me. My beautiful girl.” And he place wet kisses to your neck and cheeks.

Dick isn’t above moaning, but he’s not pornographic about it.i see him whimpering and begging if he’s getting a blow job or if you’re on top and teasing him, but I don’t see him moaning as much or more than you.

Jason Todd isn’t much of a talker during sex, but I do believe he moans. He’d be a lot more gentle with you than popular belief thinks. Especially if we’re talking older, mature Jason who’s passed his “fresh from the pit madness.”

I do believe Jason has a choking kink and I’ll die on this hill. And it doesn’t have to be his hand around your throat or vice versa. It can be him shoving his cock to the back of your throat and feeling you pulse and throb around him.

He enjoys, mature Jason too, seeing your eyes go wide and glassy. Jason loves to pull his cock from your mouth after you’ve had enough and seeing your lips plump and pink. He loves the slight flush of your tits.

Jason is a lot more eager to switch roles and be on the bottom than Dick. If you’re feeling top-ish and want to ride. Jason wouldn’t argue as you ground down on him, rolling your hips and leaving a trail of slick on his pelvis.

He’d beg through covered lips as you shushed him and picked up your pace, driving your hips forward and giving Jason the release he’d been craving.

I don’t know enough about Tim or Duke, sorry.

Bruce is harder to read because there’s decades of lore, canon, and stuff that’s not in the main continuity. Many writers have different versions of him that some favorite—however, here goes.

Bruce is a control freak. Whether you planned it or not, you’d end up in a dom/sub dynamic. He’d be choosing your clothes, picking which jewelry he buys, telling you when to cum before you even realize it.

I also think he has a power imbalance kink, just a little bit. Nothing extreme or megalomaniacal. So I truly believe you wouldn’t be rich (sorry lol); you’d maybe be a lesser known vigilante, and that’s if Bruce is healthily interested in you. I believe you’d be a civilian, but a smart and compassionate one. We know Bruce isn’t one to dumb himself down for company; we know Bruce is attracted to smart women, but none of his past relationships worked because they didn’t have a heart ( I love Talia, but he real; she wasn’t Mother Teresa).

This one may lose people, but I believe Bruce has a breeding kink. It would be a chance for him to restart. His only blood child is an arrogant, cold assassin and the rest of his children are masked vigilantes who dance with death nightly. But with you, his love, he could have a child not born in pain and anger. He’s older and wiser; he’s not as vengeful and mission oriented as he was when he adopted Dick and Jason; Tim sought him out, and Damian came with a chip on his shoulder.

Bruce is unyielding in his refusal to switch places. He’s too paranoid and enjoys control too much to bottom. The closest you’ll get to topping is bossing him around from the bottom.” faster, pretty boy.” You reached up and caressed his face as his pace stuttered and he spilled into you, gasping and groaning as he did.

You wouldn’t be fucked in the suit or the Batmobile. And he hates being called Batman in bed. The closest you’d get to mixing sex with his vigilante life is getting fucked in the Batcomputer seat.

Damian Wayne is the kinkiest Batfam member. I see Damian, who didn’t undergo such a beautiful arc, having a blood and bondage kink.

Damian preferred to tie you down rather than tie you up. He cares for you, and tying you up puts you in an uncomfortable position (he doesn’t want that) and it screws with your circulation. And if he ties you down, he can see your face as he places the vibrator right on your clit. He can see you try to knock your knees—to no avail.

Damian loved to take a small knife and inflict a wound, if you can even call it that. It was feather soft, and you loved when he would wrap his mouth around the wound and suck the blood. Then he’d kiss you, letting the saliva and metallic taste mingle.

I believe Damian would be into hickies and spanking too, but not the for the violence like I see from the kinkier side of the fandom. He would be into hickies, spanking, bandage, and blood play for the markings. It all boiled down to markings. And that’s not to claim that those activities didn’t get you both off, but Damian’s true enjoyment stemmed from the possessiveness of it all.

That’s why he likes to untie you and massage the rope imprints, then walk you to the mirror and spin you around, letting you see all the prints and marks. He could feel himself harden again, but he knew he’d break you if he ever tried to impose his libido and stamina on you.

Don’t kill me, but Damian isn’t into cunnilingus. He also wouldn’t bottom, not like you’d want him to. If, and that’s a huge “if” ( it’s months into the relationship too), he does bottom, it’s not traditional bottoming. Damian would top from the bottom,” go slower, grind harder, beloved.” And he’d grip your hips hard enough to leave prints, because marks, duh!

Damian likes sloppy blow jobs. I know he’s proper and clean, but trust me. Spit, moans, and whimpers; that’s what gets him off. And seeing your cheeks flush and your breathing quicken, but you keep going lower and taking more of him in. He appreciates the determination, and it makes him feel in control, huge, and dominant which strokes his ego.