#i had i feeling this was coming but i didn't expect it to pour in so quickly | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

strawberrymochin · 1 month ago

Text

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ☀︎

Rockstar!gojo x art student!femreader

synopsis- satoru gojo fell in love with you when he was 17. He tried everything to gain your attention—joining the student council, participating in every extracurriculars, performing well in academics yet nothing worked. That was until high school. In college, having been forced into a band, he needed to find a new artist for their posters which he requested shoko to take care of. What he didn't expect was shoko to bring you as a volunteer—

warnings- college!au, satoru being heads over heels for you, he’s so damn in LOVE save my boy, friends to lovers, misunderstanding, SEMI PUBLIC SMUT, fingering, oral fem receiving, PUSSY DRUNK GOJO, dirty talk, creampie, BALL OF FLUFF, ANGST, mentions of smoking and alcoholism, super cute ending

w.c- 8.2k (have faith)

a/n's note- i'd poured out my heart in this (especially the smut). i hope you all do like this. your comments and reblogs are highly appreciated as it helps motivating me for writing long ass fics. taglist is open you can ask me to join. love ya' all!!

When satoru met you for the first time, he was 11 years old.

You were the daughter of his mother’s friend whom he heard of so many times. Though the accidental reunion in the mall while grocery shopping was the first time satoru ever had the opportunity to meet you face to face.

It was a totally random encounter, coincidental even, you can say when your mother recognised satoru’s mom and both squealed like teenagers. They'd a lot to catch up with, thus having their kids entertain each other in the play section was convincing enough for them to chit chat in a cafe.

And this is how satoru ended up being stuffed, hand in hand with you, to go enjoy in the play section as his mother patted his back, asking him to be good to you.

“Don't leave her hand, okay toru?! Make sure you both stay together.” His mom said before scooting herself with your mom.

Satoru looked at you, his hand locked in yours as you made eye contact with him before shying away, looking in the other direction. He stood confused before pulling you to the gaming section, without any word.

He scanned amongst the box of video games, before pulling out one which caught his eyes with his unoccupied hand. He gave a side look to you, reluctantly asking “you want to play this?”

You gaze down at the video game he held in his hands, eyes sparkling a bit, if satoru wasn't seeing things, then raise your head to look at him again. “It has vibrant colours.”

Satoru nodded, feeling a little giddy that you liked his preference. “It's called mario kart.”

“Oh.” Your eyes widened as he revealed the name.

“Do you know how to play it?” You shake your head at his question. “Then I can teach you!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, let's go and install it on the playstation.”

By the time satoru’s mother returns with your mum, they find satoru giggling along with you, hands still locked with each other, as he points to various stacked video games.

That day slowly came to an end and satoru didn't get to see you for the next two years till your giggles became a distant echo and your face a blur.

By the time he was 14, he almost forgot you.

Until that one day when he noticed you, sitting alone with your lunch staring at the sky at the campus of his high school.

You were biting on your chopsticks with dreamy eyes as recognition drew in satoru's mind.

Y/n— he thought. His brows frowned, thoughts slowly going in a muddle. How are you here? eating lunch in his high school campus unless— you're a student over here too! Satoru felt foolish, his lips slowly curving in a smile lifting one hand, abandoning the basketball in the other to greet you.

However, before he can get his words voiced out to you, gaining your attention, a brown haired girl comes up to you dragging you along with her in a hurry.

Satoru's hand froze in mid air, awkwardly stretching it above his head before bringing it down and turning towards his friends. He sprinted back to his group resuming the game, yet his mind stayed with you and your dreamy eyes.

He wanted to say ‘hi’ and watch your eyes grow wide before nodding your head just like you did back then. He wanted to show you the basketball he was holding and maybe teach you how to play ball just like he did back then.

“Oi satoru! Why are you missing the catch?!” one of his friends shouted, breaking him free of his daze. “sorry…taking a break!” He said, excusing himself, before going and plopping himself down on a nearby bench.

He recognised the brown haired girl—Yura. She often came to him asking for little favours. Did she know you? A friend? You studied in the same school and yet he only saw you today. Where were you all this time? Satoru was the same age as you. So you were bound to be in the same class, maybe different sections but he knew students from the other sections too. How come he didn't notice you yet?

The recess was over soon and he ran back to his class. Before entering the class, he noticed you again, hurrying to the class next to him.

Class 1-2.

Satoru felt silly as he read the classroom name in his mind.

As the final semester rolled on and a new semester started, satoru found out class 1-2 changed to class 2-2 and this year he was in the same section as yours.

He was excited to finally be able to talk to you without any awkwardness. After all, you were in the same classroom now— which means you will know him when he introduces himself on the first day of class. You will see him, introducing himself aloud and clear and recognition will draw on your face as you remember him.

That's what he initially thought the night before the first class. Until satoru felt the urge to perfect his speech and kept on practicing it, holding the crumpled sheet in his clammy hands, past midnight.

As a result he woke up late and by the time he hurried himself to school, the self introduction was half-over. He mumbled his apologies to his homeroom teacher, before hastily introducing himself and going to his assigned seat.

With that his perfect speech plan of gaining your attention bombed miserably. He raised his head in the direction of your seat—first row second desk, way far than his— fourth row last desk.

That's when he decided with the determination inclining in his heart to get your attention and make you remember that it's him.

The plan was simple. He just have to wait till recess and watch his chances closely. Once you're free and alone he will go make a move saying ‘hello’! Maybe even ask for your number.

Recess hour came by and his plan chose to bite the dust with girls and boys swarming around him to get his number and be friends with him. The group kept him occupied for the entirety of the recess and by the time he was done you were no where to be found in class.

Similar things happened the next day and the next day and the next day, never ceasing to leave him alone.

Satoru eventually came up with another plan— excelling in academics. The more he's good in academics, the more are the chances for you to come up to him wanting his help to understand a problem. And the plan worked exceptionally well with girls frequenting him with a doubt in their lesson— except for you.

This time satoru came up with his active participation in extracurriculars and sports. The more he active he is the more is the chance of you joining the same activity or maybe seek his assistance for the upcoming sports day.

This plan too, was indeed prodigious and did attracted a lot of attention except yours.

His last option was of joining the student council. As the spirited member of the top student council, you might come up to him with a problem you're facing or anything you want to change.

So, without thinking much he did joined the student council, hoping to finally gain your attention. However the following week, concerns and requests for changes decreased promptly. The other council members sighed, few scrutinizing satoru. After all no one in the entire school would want their so very handsome, energetic and popular Satoru Gojo to have a heavy work load after school.

“Since we don't have any work to do now, thanks to gojo-kun, I'd gladly like you all to only maintain the regular class desk arrangement.” the student council president announced before leaving the council room.

Satoru sighed, this isn't what he thought. He just wanted your attention not the entire school’s. Everyone looked at him, when he walked, when he sat, when he ate, people always turned around to take a second look. Yet you never laid your eyes on him. Even being in the same class you never came up to him to chat.

Back slouched, with his tie undone, he slammed the door open of his classroom to pick up his bag.

You flinched.

Hand covering your mouth, a dust wiper on the other, you looked at him as he froze.

One entire year, was how satoru spent to gain your attention, to get you look at him, and when it finally happened the time seemed to halt. The sun rays pooled into the room with slow breezes messing up your bangs and satoru couldn't mutter a word but stare.

Conscious about him gaping, he tore his gaze away from you before shutting the door, this time gently.

The council president asked them to take care of class desk arrangements. However, the desks in his classroom have always been arranged, even before he joined the student council.

“you…um arrange the desks everyday?” He said fixing his tie, slowly walking up to his desk, wiped clean by you. “Yes.”

Satoru accompanies you cleaning and arranging for the rest of the time in complete silence. Soon you take your leave, and so does satoru but this was the time he was happy like really really happy.

He didn't exchange any words of recognition with you, from the day at the mall. He didn't talk. Yet he was beaming radiant, for just being with you, momentarily alone, in peace.

That day soon came to an end and another year passed by. Satoru did nothing but admire you from afar. This was the only way he felt the closest to you. He saw how you wiped and arranged the desks everyday; help people without even letting them notice; lend the only pencil you have without a word; and care for the garden whose garish flowers were disregarded by others.

The more he saw, the more he knew you. And the more he felt his heart slipping away.

You were kind, gentle and soft. You noticed people behind their masks. You regarded the smallest of the things with such care. And your delicate hands, often smeared with paint, held the responsibility of others without complaining.

He often saw yura asking favours from you, shoving her cleaning duties to you, sending you to get her lunch from the 7-eleven nearby and never once you said 'no'. You were so so precious.

He knew he’d to stop; the way you engrossed him, linger on his mind all day to the point that he was unable to think of anything but you was straight up creepy but his eyes never stopped searching for you.

Even in the midst of the crowds on a random road his eyes would unconsciously seek for you.

And by the time he was 17, satoru was hopelessly, absurdly and miserably in love with you.

Another year passed by and he could do nothing but stare. And the fact that you often looked at him too made things even worse.

He was so down bad for you that he couldn't keep on going like this anymore. He was so sure he'd confess to you on the day of graduating the high school, not caring about rejection.

Satoru stayed up an entire night, perfecting his confession. But by the time the graduation ceremony ended and he went to look out for you, you were nowhere to be found.

He asked yura about you, to which she replied that you went back home early and satoru had his heart broken at 18.

He couldn't move on easily but giving you up was the only option left. Unwillingly, satoru made his devastating decision of giving you up. He never thought he would see you again until a few years later in college, shoko brought you right in front of him.

“We need a new artist to cover up for this concert.” said geto suguru, stuffing his phone back in his pockets. “Why? What happened to ren?”

“Got himself into an accident and fractured his right arm.” Geto plops himself back down on the couch beside satoru, before pulling on the fretboard of his bass.

“Should visit him then.”

“Forget it.”

“Why?” frowned satoru, geto suguru—his best friend, the one he went to middle and high school with, was not the type to feign indifference. His behavior indeed had satoru confused.

“Nanami informed he got drunk at the last concert before getting himself into the accident. Drunk driving it is.”

“Did yaga find out about this?”

“Fortunately, he didn't. Nanami covered the case before him finding out,” geto brought his hand, swiping back his string of bangs, “if it reaches yaga, he will ban us from using the campus stadium.”

“lucky I'd say…so what now?” The next concert is in 3 days and the band poster is still incomplete.

Shortly after satoru joined his college, suguru started a band along with two other guys. The band was doing well but due to a disagreement they decided to split up. Suguru then suggested satoru join the band and the following year they gained another member named nanami kento.

They used to hold performances at random pubs but as its popularity increased, the college decided to give them the campus stadium to hold their concerts. Something they did extra was hiring an artist to do their band poster— hand-drawn. It'd become a little tradition— a lucky charm says suguru, and now that their artist had broken his hand right at the eleventh hour before the concert they will have to—

“Find a new one.”

“nana—” geto shuts him before he could finish his sentence. “Nanami is trying his best, so am I. So, you try finding one too.”

“How am I supposed to?”

“Well I'm sure if you go with a face like this to the art department, people would volunteer in a line.”

“Same goes with you, why don't you go and ask. I'm sure if you could wear your shirt a little loose you can surely get your clingy ex find a good one." Gojo says in a mocking tone, grabbing his guitar and looping it around his back before leaving the club.

He was sure annoyed, but he will have to find one, geto wasn't in a mood to joke earlier either. Rather than going by himself, he decided to ask shoko get it done for him; he was sure she'd agree for a few packs of cigarettes.

Walking on his way to the parking lot he texted shoko to meet at their regular cafe.

“Sup!”

Satoru smiled knowing shoko could never fail him, even if she didn't agree right away a little guilt trip will do.

“All good?”

“Yeah, what do you need?”

“Just a little favour.”

“And what that might be?”

“Get an appropriate artist from the art department. Ren broke his arm and suguru's so down about going himself, ya’ know about his ex,” shoko started grabbing her cup of iced coffee to retreat when gojo slammed two packets of cigarettes on the table. “I've two more packs to offer.”

Shoko returns to her seat, a big smile on her face. “Okay! Since I'm your empathetic, gracious and compassionate friend, I will try and see what I can get done.”

“Yes please…”

“I'm not doing it for cigarettes ya’ know.”

“Mhmmm” satoru nods his face dramatically.

“Get the other two packets out.”

“Sure.”

Satoru knew four packets would get the job done as he parted away from shoko, driving his way back home.

And the next day when shoko texted him that she got a volunteer and is bringing her to the club, he didn't expected it to be you.

Shoko looped a hand around your shoulders “so this is the club,” chewing a gum, “and this is satoru gojo.”

“Hi…” you said looking at him, before taking a look at those instruments laying behind.

It’s you. It's really you. He couldn't believe his eyes yet stood unblinking as if you were some mirage and will fade away once he closes his eyelids.

“Gojo?” Shoko waved a hand infront of his face and realizing he didn't respond to you, he bent his torso bowing to you.

“Woah,” shoko’s face scrunched up, cringing at his behavior, “when did you start being all formal?”

You giggled at her comment while satoru hushed her with a series of ‘shut ups’.

“I'm—”

“Y/n.” satoru whispered almost as if reminding himself the way your name sounded in his lips. “Y/n, i know.”

You chuckle at his words, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You know her?” shoko tilted her head at him, not expecting you to be acquainted with him.

“We went to the same high school.” You say when satoru does nothing but gape at you with dreamy eyes.

His heart did a whole somersault at your sentence. You remembered him; you remembered his name; you remembered he was in the same high school as you. The fact that you regarded him made him so giddy that he was practically ready to throw his hands up in the air or kiss the floor on which you walk.

“Kay’ I'll leave you guys to talk then.” She smirked before raising a cocky eyebrow at satoru, excusing herself from the club.

“So…you're the only one?”

“Huh?”

“In the band— i mean…”

“Oh no” he dragged, “there are two more members along with the back musicians…”

You humm, taking a proper look at the club.

“You like it?”

“It has vibrant colours.”

Your words echoed in his ears, the same which you said to him at the mall. Oh how bad had he wanted to hear those.

“The jazzies,” you read the name of their band aloud, “why jazzies? You only play jazz?”

“No…we play all sorts of music…it's just a name suguru chose for the band.”

“you do originals?”

“Both originals and covers. Anything suguru comes up with.”

Your mouth forms a little ‘o’ as satoru explains to you.

“geto seems to be doing all the stuff, what do you do?”

“You know him?” satoru’s brows furrowed. “Whom?” you ask.

“geto…geto suguru.”

“Ofc, he was in the same class as us.”

“Oh.”

Ofcourse. Both he and geto were in the same class as you. It was no big deal for you to remember both of them. However, accepting that he wasn't any special was bitter.

Satoru’s eyes followed your figure as you went out to reach for his guitar, mindlessly drawing your finger on its printed patterns.

“You didn't answer my question…”

“I guess I found you for our band.”

When none of you says anything, satoru breaks the ice, clearing his throat.

“You know how to play?”

“Err…no.”

“I can teach you.”

He slided his index among the few string instruments before pulling out an acoustic one, bringing it to you.

“Hold the fretboard with your left hand,” satoru pulled the strap over your shoulders, “and bring your right hand over the body, fingers near the sound hole— yep that's right,” he turned your back to him, gently holding the back of your palms.

“Now, pluck the chords for me,” his chest was against your back as he guided you through the strings.

“Like this?” you ask him.

“Yes, you're doing very well.”

The guitar in your hands, played smoothly as satoru guided you through it.

Just like when he taught you how to play mario kart.

Satoru looks down at you smiling in excitement. Oh how cute you looked like that. He could admire you twenty-four seven, never wanting to tear his gaze away, for you're that ineffably eesome in his eyes.

Time almost ceased when you looked up at him, eyes crinkling with a smile that soon died as red creeps up your cheeks.

Satoru’s face was mere inches away from you, his eyes wavering down to your lips.

“SATO—RU— oh,” geto bursted in along with nanami causing you both to flinch.

He quickly leaves your hand.

“Y/n??” Geto dragged out your name, looking at you with his eyebrows knitting and lips forming a silly smile.

“Hi,” you pull the strap over your shoulders abandoning the instrument on the nearby couch. “I'm here to volunteer.”

“You do?”

“Yeah…”

“That's great! I can't believe satoru even managed to talk—” satoru smacked him mid sentence.

Nanami, for some reason, found the ceilings very interesting today, totally ignoring his two seniors.

Geto explained to you about their little tradition of hand drawn posters and showed you the posters they used for the last concerts. You, then, asked them to send them a group picture of the three and their preferences for colours and themes.

“For that I might need your number—”

“I- i can send it to her…” Geto passed a suggestive smile at satoru, which he ignored and awkwardly forwarded his phone to you.

“Yeah that sounds fine. Here's my number, save it and text me later.”

“Kky!”

You pull the sling of your tote bag up to your arm, giving them a little nod, before turning your back to leave.

“Wait!—” satoru held your arms frantically pulling you back. He hurried to the back near the couch you plopped the guitar and shoved it to you. “T-take it.”

“Ah— no I can't do that.”

“Take it. You can learn how to play and I- I can teach you.” he tried not to stutter yet failed miserably.

“No i rea—”

“consider it as a gift— from me.”

You frowned a bit but agreed anyway.

“That's really sweet of you satoru! I will wait for your text! Bye!!”

He waved back to you.

“What was that?” Geto implies in the direction of the exit door through which you just left.

“nothing.”

Later, You sent the photo of the finished banner to satoru. It took you 42 hours to finish it.

Satoru on the other hand was practicing really hard, totally different from his half hearted performances from the previous ones which wasn't unnoticed by the other members.

He has to be the best. After all, this concert will be different from the previous ones. This time you will be there to see him, cheer for him, and notice him.

You soon bring the banner rolled up to the club. “Woah! You really did a great job.”

“This is much better than ren’s.” says nanami before going back to his drum set, giving you a thumbs up.

“Satoru?”

“Y-yes.”

“You liked it?”

“I loved it. It has vibrant colours.” You giggled at his answer, shifting your direction to his gaze. His fingers seemed to flake off any dust on the surface of your work, handling it so gently.

It wasn't his fault he felt so overwhelmed. All these years he'd yearned for one kind word from your lips yet he was left starving.

And now you'd drawn him with such precision, that it was as if you were accustomed to drawing him for the hundredth time.

His heart fluttered at the thought.

“I will be there at your concert,” you say, turning your back to him. “All the best!”

The campus stadium was full with a bunch of students and hippies, it was really hard for satoru to try locating you amongst the sea of crowds.

The music rang loud, brisking fiery cheers from the crowd, full of vim and vigor. The spotlight shone on the three— geto with his vocals and string of bass; satoru with his acoustic guitar; and nanami with his drum set.

The crowd roared in excitement as music coursed through their veins.

Will you be cheering too?

Satoru raised his head from the guitar, plucking chords effortlessly, to his audience.

And as if it was fate that drew both of you together, his eyes found yours. You were there in the vip section, along with shoko and another girl. You were moving with beats, swaying your arms in rhythm to their music.

His eyes locked in yours as you waved a hand at him. Oh how, how pretty you looked. Everything except you was a blur to him.

The crowd goes even more wild, seeing satoru blush, not sensing it was you who caused it.

The concert continued till past midnight as the vibrations thrumming around the air slowed and wrapped up with their ending song: “Where Our Blue Is.”

As the applause slowly start to dissipate, satoru pulled off his instrument, running to the edge of the stage, and hopped down the raised platform.

The college girls shrieked baffled, some even reached out, grabbing on his wrists and clothes. He politely got out of their grip making his way to the vip section, geto and nanami following him.

The still air felt electric as he approached you.

“you liked the show?”

“Ofc it was amazing!!” The girl beside you answers in your stead, whom he now recognised as yura.

“It was really good.” you say swallowing a laugh bubbling up your throat at his huffed out appearance.

“Thanks to your banner, it even attracted more audience.” geto remarked, placing his arm around satoru’s shoulders.

“Thank you.”

“You should thank me for bringing her in.” Shoko reclaims, looping her hand around your arm, “let's go steal some shots.”

“Oh no i can't— i don't drink. And I need to hurry back home it's late.”

“Kyaahh— you've let me down y/nniee. Only two packets of cigarettes can get my mood uplifte—”

“I will bring it tomorrow.” You say shutting up her whines.

“kk bye and text me when you get home the rest are joining me right ?”

“Count me out. I'll be driving her home tonight.” Satoru says sheepishly, ignoring the smirks and exchanged looks of his bandmates, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

“No but I was about to go home with her —” yura interrupts.

“Satoru’s fine. You're coming with us.” Shoko dragged her along with geto and nanami, which satoru was glad of.

Finally he'd be alone with you.

He guided you to the parking lot from the back of the stage, before getting his car keys out.

It's metallic jingle echoing softly as he presses the button on his key fob. The car responds with a soft beep unlocking as satoru opens the passenger door, holding it open for you.

“Here,” he gestures with his other hand, “get in.”

“Sure.” You say gulping thickly.

The thick smell of your cologne mingling with the leather scent of the car.

He closes the door before sprinting to the other side, getting himself in. “Don't— ” he stops you when you reach out for your seat belt. “Allow me the honor” his finger brushes against your skin as he reaches out for the seat belt.

Your heart practically jolts at his action.

The click of the seat belt buckle echoes softly in the quiet car, as he straightens back to his former position.

“Where do you live?” He clears his throat, starting the car engine and flicking on the headlights before pulling out the car into the driveway.

“In the downtown.”

“That's quite far from the campus, how bout I drive you everyday back home?” His eyes suggestive, making you chuckle.

“I can't let you do that.”

“Why?”

“Since it's far from the campus and you won't be visiting often.”

“Who knows, I might be visiting your place often.”

You turn your face from the window to look at him.

“What?”

“I will have to— to teach you guitar.”

You crack up at his silliness, finding yourself melting again.

“Okay fine. But that still doesn't counts.”

“Why not!”

Since that day, satoru did visited you often, sometimes barging in with shoko and sometimes alone teaching you how to play guitar, plucking on chords and notes.

And you attended all of his concerts. Their previous artist has recovered now and has resumed his work, so you no longer work with them. However they insist you tag along each time and it's not like you complain.

You liked satoru’s company. He was handsome, charismatic and popular. You'd watched him your entire high school. He was the one of most popular students, good in a millions of things, starting from academics to being athletic. He'd win every sports competition and even participate in all the extracurriculars. You'd admired him for he could do the things which you didn't had the courage for.

You liked how he didn't judge people, helped them in their need, and even took care of those garish flowers nobody seemed to double take.

You'd previously met him before high school, though he never brought that up. You wondered if he even remembers the day at the mall. You wanted to ask him so bad, however—

Your world was only limited to papers and paints.

So you painted.

You painted him so many times that you'd have more than five sketchbooks with paintings full of him.

You wanted to be friends, maybe even more than friends.

But that didn't matter now. He was near you and you would do anything to keep your thumping heart in control and not have satoru cut you out of his life.

But how can you?

How can you control it when satoru so gently, so lovingly, takes your hand in his. When he smiles so sweetly at you. When he teaches you how to pull chords and other instruments. When he drops you home from college almost everyday. When he hugs you and tells you to take care.

How are you supposed to be just friends when he's so overly affectionate to you?

Or maybe it's just your overthinking.

Satoru was always polite and sweet, he'd always been sweet to others and you were no special.

“What are you thinking baby?”

You come out of your daze, rolling your eyes at the nickname.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that…”

“Not my fault you aren't paying attention to me…” he pulls you closer to him, resting his face on your shoulder.

“Have you always been this hungry for attention?” you ask, getting yourself comfortable abandoning the guitar beside you on the couch— of the club.

“I've been starving.”

You cringe at his words. Satoru has another concert today and they just finished practicing an hour ago and now they are taking a break.

Geto and nanami and other back artists wanted to get some fresh air so they left you and satoru alone to entertain each other.

“Are you really skipping on me?” He looked at you with puppy eyes.

“I've a gallery exhibition tomorrow.” You need to scoot back home to get ready for it. It's a big event for you to showcase your arts.

Satoru hummed, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck, “I'll be there. You're going to do great.”

An uncertain lump forms in your throat, hard to swallow, you say nothing. Your heart was in a conflict again, no matter what you can absolutely not—

“I will be going then. All the best for your concert.”

You push satoru away, reaching for your tote bag from the side of a random arm chair. “Wait I will drop—”

“Who's leaving?” shoko barges in with yura and others.

Satoru points at you.

“I just got here. You can't leave already.”

“Yup! Yup! Please stay a little longer, baby. I'll drop you back home, no worries.”

Shoko exchanges suggestive glances with geto and they somehow persuade you to stay a little longer.

They start practicing for another round when shoko pulls your head closer, “what do you think about gojo?”

“Huh?!” You shout over the music, unable to hear her.

She grabbed your hand and pulled you outside, with Yura following closely behind you both.

“What— “

“What do you think of gojo?”

A burning sensation hits you slowly as shoko’s question registers in your mind.

You ears turn red.

“Eh…um h-he’s a nice guy. A nice musician…and—”

“And?” Shoko wiggled her brows at you, a sly smile on her face.

“A-a nice friend.”

“Just a friend?” You nod at her, seemingly more embarrassed at her implications.

Shoko's face literally radiated disappointment. It was as if someone told her that cigarettes are now banned in the country. “I think he's interested in you,” you choked on air at her remark. “No?”

Yura shrugged.

The music slowed down and then paused, bringing your conversation to a momentary halt.

Satoru rushed outside, complaining about why you left in the middle of his practice.

“Bruh, chill, I'm not trying to steal her away from you. We're just talking!” Shoko jokes as you laugh all flustered.

Just when you were about to leave one of his fangirls suddenly appeared from nowhere and threw herself into his arms, wrapping hers tightly around his neck. He stumbled back a step, surprised, before regaining his balance but he didn't put her down rather he spinned her around before setting her back down, with a polite smile on his face.

The other members just saw the scene unfold with amusement. Nanami was surprised at the fan’s boldness and geto simply observed the scene as shoko rolled her eyes, finding it hysterical.

“What do you think of shoko’s remark?” said yura, looping her hand around your arm.

“What?” You say suppressing the slow tinge of jealousy.

“About gojo being interested in you…”

“I-i don't think so.”

You try to laugh it off.

“Yeah, he's just polite. To pretty much everyone.”

Her words felt like a splinter to your heart. You shouldn't feel like this. It'd happened before— not now again.

Yura’s right, satoru is just polite and will do the same for everyone what he does for you— because he's kind. And you're no special.

The entire ride was silent. Satoru kept asking you if anything was wrong but you just guised a smile at him, insisting it was nothing.

The next day at the gallery event, you behaved oddly. You smiled at him but didn't reach your eyes, your answers to his question were of one word, even avoiding his touch.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked warily.

“No.”

Days passed by and you distanced yourself more from him.

Satoru, on the other hand, was almost losing his mind. His world turned upside down. You stopped coming to his concerts, ignored his texts and even refused to let him drop you back home.

It was yesterday you’d allowed him to teach you the guitar yet today you behaved as if you'd long forgotten him. You were cold and distant, leaving him puzzled by his own thoughts upon your sudden change in demeanor.

He couldn't help but wonder whether he'd done something that made you this upset?

You'd said it was nothing.

Then why?

What the fuck did he messed up?

Satoru missed you terribly and violently.

He eyed you from the inside of his car parked a bit far from your department. Today was another day you refused his offer to drive you to class. ‘I'm kinda sick so I won't be going.’ This was what you'd texted him the morning and yet there you were getting off your uber.

You lied to him.

“Come with me to their concert today.” Shoko urged you, her lips pursed in a thin line.

“I'm sorry—”

“No you're not so sorry. Tomorrow’s Saturday, come with me, gojo’s getting mad without you.”

You suck in a breath at the mention of his name.

“What's wrong?” shoko says sipping the last of her drink before plopping it on your tea table.

“Nothing.”

“Then come.”

You agreed eventually. Attending the concert won't be a big deal.

And it wasn't, except for satoru’s piercing gaze burning holes in your back. You accompanied Shoko backstage and casually greeted everyone— including him.

“God, haven't seen you in so long.” geto side hugged you as nanami gave you a nod of acknowledgement before running off to the stage for some last minute preparations. “Satoru missed you like crazy.”

You attempt a weak smile in satoru's direction, darting a hesitant glance his way. His gaze was fixed on you, but his expression was unreadable, almost giving shivers down your spine.

One of the other members suddenly hurried over to Geto, urgently speaking about some issue, he politely excused himself and exited the room, closely followed by Shoko. Now, you were left alone with Satoru, the only two remaining in the room.

“I should go and check what's the proble—” you try sprinting your way out the door, “wait—” when satoru stops you.

His hand on your arm, preventing you to go any further and when you struggle to get out of his grip, he tightens his grip even more slamming you to the wall, pinning you caging your body.

“What's wrong with you?”

“Gojo you're hurting m—”

“Gojo?” His voice cracked, grip losing before letting your arms go, “why? Why must you do this to me?”

“Do what?” You drift your gaze away unable to look at satoru, who's this close tearing up.

“This— why must you do this? Why must you ignore me? Why must you be distant from me? Why must you lie to me so that I won't bother picking you up or dropping you home? Why must you reject my affection?” He sucks in a breath “You know I can't live like that—”

“why?”

“Don't pretend like you don't know…”

“no no don't say it,” you throw your hands up in the air frantically, “don't— I can’t fall again…no— I know you're just being polite and you will do this for anyone, but I can’t help it if I don't—”

“I love you—” he whispers, bringing your hand up, placing the palm flat to his chest.

“No you don't.”

“Yes I do— what do you mean you can't fall again,” he suppresses your struggles of wrenching free your hand from his grip. “You have no idea how crazy I'm for you. I love you and I've loved you since I was 17. I was about to confess to you on our graduation day but you just disappeared leaving me alone. And now that I have you I'm not letting you go— make no mistake baby, if there's anyone I’d ever kneel for— it'd be you.”

Thick silence covered the entire room, except your heavy exhales. Satoru gojo was inches close to you, your hand still laid flat against his heaving chest.

“B-but I wrote you a note confes—”

“What note? I never….” confusion twisted on his face bitterly.

“You threw it in the dustbin— the one I wrote to you the day before graduation.”

His face told the truth, as he shook his head denying it. He never received any note from you— nevertheless having the audacity to throw it in the trash when he'd been hopelessly in love with you all these years.

“Yura told me—” you shut your mouth as the realization hits you. The person whom you considered as a friend backstabbed you long ago.

She lied about him discarding it while it was actually her who had stolen it off his desk before satoru even noticed.

Your head raised in embarrassment, ready to apologize for the misunderstanding when suddenly, Satoru's lips met yours in a tender kiss. The kiss was filled with such affection and tenderness that you felt as if you might melt in his embrace. His arms held you close, firmly yet gently, as he deepened the kiss. Your heart pounded in your chest as you responded to his kiss. All thoughts of the misunderstanding were forgotten in that moment of pure intimacy before satoru pulled away with frowned brows and a dazed smile.

“Tell me, would I kiss anyone the same way I kiss you?” he pulled you again, smacking his lips on yours as he snaked a hand around your waist, the other, still firm, holding your palm.

You could feel his heartbeat going rapid the more he deepens the kiss, sucking on your upper lip.

He pulls away again.

“Tell me, would my heart beat the same way as it beats around yours?” He smacks his lips again, this time pinching your waist making you gasp as he slips his tongue in.

His hand fumbles with the hem of your dress, pulling away again, a string of drool connecting both of your lips. “Would I be breathless the same way as I'm now?”

His hand travels up your inner thigh, till it reaches the wet blotch of drenched silk. You grasp his shoulders, when he starts drawing circles over the fabric, smirking before nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck.

“Satoru, what if someone walks in—” your body jolts, nails digging into his back as he pulls the fabric to the side, plunging a digit in without any warning. “Let them…” he goes back to sucking your skin while rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit.

Your teeth sank on your bottom lips, his finger slowly plunging in and out of you. “Nngh ‘toru, you’re—” small trembles quivered through your body as he plunged with a faster rhythm.

“Shh baby! Let me take you” he inserts another digit as your teeth dug even deeper into your lip, stretching you and filling you so well.

He was stroking you, curling his fingers inside until hitting your most sensitive spot. Sweat beaded your forehead as your trembles gave way to full body shudders, shutting your mouth with your hand not wanting to be loud.

Satoru drew himself back from your neck, satisfied marking and suckling, withdrawing his digits, slick from you as you wince at the loss of his fullness.

He brings them up and sucks your essence off his fingers with a pop. “I want to eat you out.”

Before even you can make out his words he kneels down bunching up the fabric to your hips pulling your panty down properly and latching onto your swollen clit.

“Fuck ‘toru.” he lapped his tongue on your clit, drawing circles, tasting your sweet before drawing himself back, “I am fucking you baby.” He says, licking a fat stripe on your vulva, his rigid tongue swiping back and forth over your clit sending sensations that make your body jolt. “Here and raw” he hummed against your pussy, his breath warm and hot sending vibrations to your core, before vacuuming on your clit.

Your hand grasping his hair, as he worked on your orgasm.

He plunged his digits again, rhythmatic with the little pants escaping your mouth, along with the slick sounds of your hips buckling down his fingers.

He smirked internally at your enthusiasm.

“So fucking nasty for me huh?” He said against your pussy, licking and sucking till you were nothing but withering in mindless pleasure. You were taking it well, suppressing your moans into breathless pants until he sucked, fingers pressing the most sensitive spot inside you.

A shriek fell past your lips, knees buckling, followed by a string of moans and whimpers. “Oh— fuck..” you try closing your thighs which he prevents with his iron grip of one hand, forcing it open till he has better access. “Don't even dare closing on me…”

The wet sounds of his fingers, plunging in and out of your gummy walls, echoed throughout the empty room.

Something coiled hot and fuzzy in the lower pit of your stomach. You clenched hard around his finger, when the bass-heavy beats of the band's concert began, causing you to involuntarily shove satoru’s face deeper into your cunt as you heard voices from the stage outside.

Geto's unmistakable voice rang out, accompanied by the heavy drumming of nanami. They had started performing without satoru.

“Nn’toru they start—” your voice died down into a breathless gasp as you felt your pelvic muscles clench, tension looping around your entire body as fiery sensations erupted. You arch your back against the wall, unable to stop your toes curling at the intensity of his tongue lapping, finger fuckin' you, as your vision gets blurry.

“Yeah…cum for me baby” his velvety murmurs were all it took for you to turn into a mess of sensations, your body erupting as your high came down bursting, dripping and spilling down your thighs, his chin and his neck.

Satoru lapped up the drops carelessly strewn about your skin, his tongue tracing a path along the droplets splattered on your inner thighs as he savored everything with anticipation.

“Tell me, would I kneel infront of anyone and let them cum this hard on my fingers?” He straightened himself up, “and then drink it up like a pussy drunk male whore?” his gaze never left yours, wiping the leftover slick from his chin with the back of his hand before licking it clean.

The music from outside has now gained its intensity, thrumming even louder.

No— you mouthed.

Satoru’s gaze was still fixed at you, when he unzipped his pants, his aching cock sprang out red, already leaking precum.

You gape at his girth.

It was big.

And fucking thick.

Leaning in, Satoru brings his lips close to your ear, his voice clear over the blaring music from outside, “Like what you see—”

You didn't get to answer him before he slammed right in.

A cry of pleasure tore from your throat, as you loop your hands around his neck, nails digging on his back.

He hissed out a breath, restraining himself from moving till you adjusted to his size.

Only then did he slowly pull it out leaving only the tip inside. You grimace at the loss of fullness until he slams back in causing you to clench around him.

He let out a low guttural moan which was almost inaudible to you over the roar of music if you weren't so close to each other, feeling the raw desire of his voice vibrating on your skin.

“Tell me— hahh- would I let anyone clench this hard on me if this weren't you?”

You were at a loss for words.

The kind, polite, sweet satoru you knew was gone. In his place was someone who fucked hard.

When you don't answer he pulls out and slams right back in harsh, eyes gleaming with wicked intent.

Satisfied, satoru guides his one hand to tapping on your thigh suggesting you wrap your legs up around him.

He repositions his dick on your entrance, before supporting your weight with one hand, pinning your body completely to the wall, while the other hand grabs your neck, choking you before giving you a sloppy breathless kiss.

“You like it don't ya’ hmm fuck— so tight—”

Your cries came out choked as he pounded into you, in an insane manner, desperate and primal.

“Tell me—”

Thrust

“do you—”

Thrust

“still think I'm just being polite?”

Thrust.

The roar of geto's voice singing out aloud different notes masked out the filth of your moans.

The sensation was in again, hot and uproar, coiling beneath the core of your consciousness. Satoru sensed you being close to your climax, continued to plow into your pussy, now supporting your weight with both hands against the wall.

Your toes curled again, nails digging down his back almost scratching the fabric, “yes that's it love,” your eyes rolled back as you arch your neck unable to handle the pleasure, “cum for me…”

Your mouth forming a little ‘o’, mind blank as your eyes saw stars. The only consciousness left in your body directed you to the burning of your heat, till it came crashing down.

You came hard letting your head fall on his shoulders too spent for anything.

Satoru too chased his high, thrusting into your swollen pussy, his cock twitching inside you, till you felt him getting sloppy and tense before cumming into you.

The music was still very loud, beats thrumming your flushed veins.

None of you said anything, remaining in the same position. Satoru pulled himself out, his cum dripping out your vagina, before walking over and placing you on a nearby chair.

He cleaned you up gently tugging your clothes back and fixes himself before cleaning the mess near the wall.

“They— they started performing without you…” you huff out, drained still in the very euphoria of your pleasure satoru showed you.

“I told them to do so…” he shouted over the noise.

You remain stunned for a while, letting out a breath. “I'm sorry…I avoided you.”

“Here I thought you were giving me a thousand kisses as an apology.”

You chuckle at him, back to his normal self— your sweet, kind and maybe not so polite satoru…

He came over to you, lifting you effortlessly before plopping himself down on the chair with you on his lap.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“No but I missed you like crazy…” he pouted. “y/n be my girlfriend…please.”

Tears start forming in your eyes, overwhelmed, you never thought the satoru gojo you met at the mall, the satoru gojo you loved your entire high school would someday ask you to be his girlfriend.

To paint his heart with your love.

“I will.”

“no wait— marry me instead!”

You dug your face deeper into his chest, laughing at his playfulness. And satoru just smiled.

Finally he would be yours.

you and Satoru started dating since then and things couldn't have been any better for him. He practically announced to the world that you were his girlfriend, always picking you up and dropping you off from campus, and claiming a kiss as his reward. You’d also cut Yura off, not wanting any more negativity in your life. Satoru was yours, and you were his. And He couldn't be any happier.

Tags: @cccandynecklaces @secretfankoala

5K notes · View notes

sweetnans · 6 months ago

Text

Katsuki always paid attention to little details even when you were only a number in his mind. You ended number seven on the charts after the tests for UA application. He memorized the first ten and then recognized each one of you on the first day of class.

Your ID photo that appeared beside your score wasn't nothing alike like you were in person.

He completely flipped.

He pushed the feeling aside because he had no time to waste on stupid things, and he succeeded for a long, long time. Bakugo ignored you, pretended that you didn't exist and the fact that you were part of Midoriya's group the first months made it easy for him to keep you far away but that also made it hard to watch.

Why were you laughing at what shitty Deku had said? That fucker wasn't that funny.

Why was your hand on Deku's hair ruffling and combing it with your fingers?

He was fuming on the inside.

When Mina started to hang out with you, he was relieved that he won't have to see you with Deku again.

But then, you started to hang out with his group, and everyone loved you instantly. Kirishima always wanted to sparr with you, Kaminari always asked for your help on math and Sero, fucking Sero always inviting you to dance with him.

After he saw the behavior of his friends when it came to you, he almost preferred you hanging out with Deku.

He noticed that you smiled brightly every time Kirishima told you one of his dumbs jokes while having you pinned down on the floor mat after a sparr, but you never laughed.

He noticed your leg trembling under the table when you studied with Kaminari in the common room. He could bet that the bastard used every chance he got to flirt with you in the most hideous way.

He also noticed your pink tinted cheeks every time Sero gave you his hand for a quick dance around the kitchen.

Almost like you were uncomfortable with their demeanor.

You were pretty. He understood that they were making their moves to you, but you were just too shy and good to say anything to them, like you weren't interested at all for example.

One night, he couldn't sleep and went straight to the kitchen of the dorms to grab a glass of water. He never expected seeing you there scrolling in your phone leaning by the sink, waiting for the toaster to pop your bread out.

"You shouldn't be eating carbohydrates this late"

He startled you. He literally appeared from the shadows of the dining room dragging his feet, making no sound at all.

"Jeez, you should wear a bell or something," you giggled when he gave you a puzzled look. "Like a cat? So next time I know that you're coming?"

"I know what you meant." he walked to you and grabbed a glass from the rack.

He felt your presence in his bones like a static pulse vibrating under his skin. Maybe it was just your quirk trying to reach for him.

"What are you doing here this late?" You asked clearing your throat while he gulped his water in one go.

"What does it seem like I'm doing?" He pourred another glass. He wasn't that thirsty. He just wanted to be there in silence with you for minutes, without his obnoxious friends.

Your toast popped out of the toaster, and you grabbed it, burning your fingers in the process.

"Shit, shit," you exclaimed, blowing some air at your fingers to ease the pain.

"C'mere shithead," he grabbed your hand and put it under the sink, letting the cold water flow.

"It's fucking freezing" you tried to pull your hand back but his grip tightened.

"What did you expect? You just burned your fucking fingers doing the dumbest shit I've ever seen"

You didn't know if it was the serious tone on his voice or the way that he was struggling with you stopping you from taking your hand out of the water, but something about the scene made you let out a laugh, a big one. He had never seen you laugh like that before.

"Are you laughing at me?"

That question only made it worse. You were absolutely parting yourself from laughter. He turned off the water and watched you wipe your tears.

"I'm sorry, you're not that funny," you said, returning to your normal state. He grinned.

You passed by his side fetching your toast and poured some jam.

"Do you want some jammie toast with that water of yours?" You asked, offering a half eaten toast.

"Sure." he took the toast, and in return, he gave you his half glass of water.

After that encounter, he noticed that every time his friends were around you, you always tried to find him, looking for exchange glances, giving him a subtle smile.

He started to show up at your study sessions with Kaminari, and he noticed that your legs stopped trembling because his presence was enough for Kaminari to keep his mouth shut.

He also began sparring with you on training sessions switching partner with Kirishima leaving him with Sato.

And everytime Sero tried to dance with you in front of everybody he grabbed your arm and guided you to the kitchen or his room with a lame excuse to get you out of the situation.

Fortunately, his friend read the room pretty well. The three of them enjoyed more watching him play his cards with you than putting themselves on a constant shame.

5K notes · View notes

chuusmuts · 1 year ago

Text

imagine losing your virginity by helping catboy!kabukimono

smut. afab reader, lactation, fingering. grammar errors 🥲

the idea of him fucking you while you rub his ear, his tail swishing back and forth, and purring is so 😳😳

you rubbed your eyes, opening them sleepily and were surprised to see catboy!kabukimono on top of you, straddling you. "kabuki, wha- do you need anything?"

he could feel himself getting hard as he saw your nipples through your thin, white nightgown. oh, imagine how tasty your milk was. and you're so pretty, laying underneath him like that. he wanted– no, he needed to fuck you right now.

"i... umm... need your help." kabukimono replied, trying to sound as innocent as possible while maintaining eye contact with your breasts. his ears twitched, signalling his growing arousal. "you see... i'm experiencing some discomfort, and i was wondering if you could help me relieve it." he bit his lower lip nervously, hoping that you wouldn't notice the blatant desire in his eyes or the throbbing between his legs.

his tail swished back and forth behind him as if he was nervous and excited about all this. it took you a while, but eventually you got what he meant. "are you in heat..? how can i help you, then?" this was both you and his first time so it was a little nerve-wracking, at least to you.

kabukimono hesitated for a moment before nodding his head slowly. "y- yes... i am. and i was hoping that you could help me find relief from my symptoms." his voice was low and seductive, almost purring as he spoke. "you see, as a cat hybrid, it's natural for us to seek out mating during these times." he licked his lips, looking at you intently. "would you be willing to help me?"

as he spoke, he couldn't help but let his gaze drift downwards towards your exposed nipples. the sight of them made his mouth water, and he could feel himself becoming even more aroused than before.

noticing his gaze, you covered your nipples with your hands as you felt yourself heating up, your cheeks turning pink. but then again, he needed your body relief him from the symptoms. sighing, you lowered your hands to your side as you glanced away, "okay, fine. do what you need to do. just... try not to be so rough, okay?" you said shyly, your voice small.

kabukimono grinned, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he heard your agreement. "i promise to be gentle with you." he then leaned down and gently nuzzled into your neck before moving his face closer to one of your breasts. with a soft purr, he began to lick at it slowly and carefully, taking his time to savor the taste of your skin. kabukimono began to lick and suck on your exposed nipples, tasting you full. he used his tongue to tease and stimulate them to their fullest extent until you moaned and squirmed ever so slightly. his other hand grabbed the second one, massaging and squeezing it gently until the light liquid started coming out of the nipple. your hand moved into his dark cat ear as you started rubbing it gently.

kabukimono purred loudly as he felt your hand on his ear, and he continued to lick and suck on your breast with renewed vigour. he could taste the sweetness of your milk flowing from the nipple, and it only served to make him more excited. as he drank from you, kabukimono became bolder in his actions. he slid his hand down your body, gently caressing your thigh before moving it up to cup your pussy through your nightgown. the sensation of your wetness against his fingers sent shivers down his spine, and he couldn't resist the urge to plunge them inside you.

arching your back, you cried out as he plunged three fingers inside you, causing your eyes to get teary. he continued to suckle on your breast, using his tongue to play with your sensitive nipple while his fingers abused your hole. you gripped the duvet tightly, this was the first time you had sex and you didn't expect this at all. moans poured unabashed from your lips as he scissored your walls, stretching them apart.

kabukimono moaned softly as he felt your walls clench around his fingers, and he increased the pace of his thrusts, pushing his fingers deeper into your pussy. the combination of the warmth of your body, the taste of your milk, and the sensation of being filled by him was overwhelming for him. he couldn't hold back any longer - he pulled his fingers out of you and positioned himself at your entrance.

"s- slowly!" you cried out as he pushed his erected cock between your folds, your legs spread apart. tears streamed down your face, both from the pleasure and pain.

sure, it felt good to be filled up, but it hurt especially since you're a first timer. he pushed his cock so deep until it hit your g-spot, he could literally see his bulge poking inside your stomach.

he hesitated for a moment, hearing your cry of pain and concern. he pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of love and understanding. "sorry, i should have been more gentle with you." he whispered the words before leaning down and giving you a tender kiss on the lips.

slowly and carefully, kabukimono resumed his thrusts, this time going at a much slower pace. he focused on making sure that each movement was gentle and comforting rather than forceful and overwhelming. as he did so, kabukimono leaned down and captured one of your nipples between his teeth, gently nibbling and suckling on it while continuing to fuck you. his thumb found its way to your throbbing clit, rubbing it in a circular motion. bucking your hips up into his fingers, you moaned as you felt yourself getting close to your orgasm.

kabukimono moaned softly as he felt your body responding to his touch, and he increased the intensity of his ministrations. his fingers continued to work their magic on your clit while his teeth played with your nipple, sending shivers down your spine. with each thrust, he felt himself getting closer and closer to his own climax. he could feel the pressure building within him, and he knew that it wouldn't be long now before he reached his mutual peak.

kabukimono purred loudly before he was sent over the edge, his hot seed shooting into you as he pressed his face into your neck. the feeling of your warmth and tightness around him was incredibly intense, he couldn't help but moan into your ear, muttering something in japanese. you could feel every single twitch and jerk as his hot load spilt into your hole. soon, you came with him, the knot in your stomach tightened and you squirted on his cock, your arm over your lips as you moaned, trying not to be so loud. more tears rolled down your cheeks, your face getting warm and you felt like you couldn't move your legs anymore.

when he finally came, kabukimono collapsed onto your body, panting heavily as he felt the last remnants of his seed trickle out of you. he laid there for a moment, simply enjoying the sensation of being connected to you in such an intimate way before rolling off to the side and pulling you who was still breathing heavily into his arms, his cock still kept buried deep inside you. "that hurts a lot than i expected." you huffed, wiping off the tears that stained on your cheeks.

kabukimono held you close as she spoke as he could feel your wetness still coating his member. he smiled softly, knowing that he had given you something special. "it can be overwhelming at first," he said gently, "but once we get used to it, it will become even more pleasurable."

it was his way of saying that this wasn't the last time you're gonna help him.

7K notes · View notes

hoe4hotchner · 1 month ago

Text

First time | [A.H] - Kinktober 2024

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Virgin!fem!Reader

CW: 18+, MDNI, almost sickly sweet, piv, nerves, this is very vanilla smut, barely described in more than like 1-2 paragraphs, loads of kissing, they drink wine.

WC: 2.5k

Summary: It's your first time and you're nervous. Hotch wants it to be special and won't do anything you don't approve of.

A/N: I don't know if I'm satisfied with this... so do with that info if you want.

This is a prompt from the the Lazy Ghouls’ Kinktober prompt list.

The light from the setting sun filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting a soft glow around Hotch's apartment. The air was laced with something unspoken, something you weren't quite sure if you were ready for yet desperately yearned to do. Where every shadow whispered secrets of the atmosphere in the room. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you protected in your bubble.

You sat on the edge of his couch, fidgeting with the cuffs of your sleeves. You had sat here many times before, but none of them had made you feel as nervous as you were now. Your heart raced in a rhythm that matched the low, soothing jazz tunes playing softly in the background. You felt it in your veins as an anxious energy coursed through you, feeling both thrilling and overwhelming, clouding your senses in the best yet worst ways possible. Tonight was destined to be significant; it was the night you and Hotch would cross the fine line that you had danced around for a while now. Your first time.

Hotch stood in the kitchen, pouring two glasses of wine his broad shoulders relaxed compared to how tense they had been at work all day but his brow furrowed slightly in concentration as he avoided spilling even a single drop. He was always in control, yet now he felt different — softened by the atmosphere. You snapped back to reality as you heard the soft clink of the glasses as he set them down on the table.

He turned and caught your gaze, the corner of his mouth curling into that reassuring smile you had come to cherish. “You okay?” he asked, his voice was low and comforting, instantly easing some of the tension in your shoulders.

You nodded, though it felt like a lie. “Just a bit… nervous,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The truth was that this moment, while exciting, made your stomach twist and turn. You were worried. What if you didn't meet his expectations? What if you wouldn't be enough?

Hotch stepped closer, his presence felt grounding. He took a seat beside you, his knee brushing against yours, creating a warmth that spread through your body. “Hey,” he said softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “There’s no pressure, okay? We can take things as slow as you need. We can also just stay here. We don't have to do anything if you don't feel ready.”

His touch sent shivers down your spine, and you found comfort in the way he looked at you — his eyes were warm, filled with understanding, but you couldn't look past the hint of desire. It was clear he wanted you just as much as you wanted him, though he would never rush you, he was not like other men you had dated. That was the beauty of Aaron Hotchner; he made you feel safe even when you weren't even sure of your own feelings.

“What if I mess it up?” you confessed, your gaze dropping to your hands. “What if I don’t know what to do?”

Hotch’s hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a firm but gentle grip. “You won’t mess anything up,” he assured, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “This is about us — about exploring together. Just be yourself, okay?” He smiled softly at you, his eyes searching yours for a sign, a sign of whether you were truly ready or not.

The sincerity in his voice wrapped around you, soothing the jitters swirling within. With him, you felt like you could be vulnerable, shedding the layers of doubt and fear that had accumulated over the years. He was patient and kind, the kind of man who would never judge you for your inexperience.

As the music shifted to a more delicate melody, you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. The warmth of his body radiated against you, and it filled the space with a comforting heat. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, it was a reminder that you were in this together.

“Whatever happens tonight,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I’m here.”

You took a deep breath, letting your uncertainty seep out of your body. In this moment, surrounded by the familiar scent of him and the promise of what was to come, you felt ready. Ready to explore and embrace the intimacy that had been building between you.

With a newfound sense of confidence, you lifted your head and met his gaze, feeling the flutter in your chest settle. “I’m ready,” you whispered, a smile breaking through your nerves.

Hotch’s eyes sparkled with pride, and he leaned in closer, the air felt thick with anticipation. You were alone in your own little universe, ready to take that leap into the unknown together.

The bedroom door closed softly behind you, the sound almost echoing in the stillness of the apartment. The soft light from the bedside lamps cast gentle shadows on the walls, creating a warm glow that felt inviting. You stood near the foot of the bed, your heart racing a bit as you acclimated to your surroundings. You had been in his bedroom before, but that was not the reason behind your racing heart, the circumstances were.

Hotch, always the steady presence, moved with a calm confidence that eased some of your lingering nerves. He took a moment to survey the room, making sure that everything was perfect — it had to feel just right. He then turned his gaze back to you, his eyes filled with an understanding that made your heart flutter. It was in that look — the depth of his care, the unspoken promise of patience — that you found reassurance in what you were about to do.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper, breaking the silence that hung between you. He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours, searching for any sign of hesitation. “We can stop at any time, or change directions if you want.”

You nodded, feeling the warmth of his concern. “I know. I’m okay,” you replied, your voice steadier than you expected. “I just… I really want this. I want to give it to you.”

The air shifted, charged with anticipation. Hotch’s lips curved into a small, encouraging smile. “Good,” he said, his tone deepening. “Just remember, we’re in this together. If at any point you feel uncertain, if you want to stop, just say the word.”

You knew you were safe with him, that he would never push you beyond your limits. It was one of the many reasons why you admired him; he understood the importance of both desire and comfort, intertwining them in a way that felt natural and just right.

He stepped even closer, closing the distance between you until his presence enveloped you. “Why don’t we take it slow?” he suggested his voice a soft rumble in his chest that sent shivers down your spine. “Let’s focus on what feels good.”

You could feel the heat radiating from him, the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aroma of the wine lingering between you. It was intoxicating. He reached out, gently caressing your cheek with the back of his hand, your breathing hitched catching in your throat.

Hotch studied your expression carefully, his thumb brushing against your lip in a tender gesture. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

The air in the room thickened, and you felt the weight of the moment settle around you. Your heart raced as you considered his question, the possibilities stretching out before you like an open road. His genuine desire to ensure your comfort made you feel cherished and ready to explore with him.

“I want to kiss you,” you breathed, your heart fluttering at the admission. It felt like a small step, but in the grand scheme of the evening, it was monumental and a step in the right direction.

Hotch’s lips curved into a warm smile, leaning in closer, closing the distance between you. “Then let’s start there,” he said softly, his breath brushing against your lips.

With that, he captured your lips with his, the kiss was soft and tentative at first, you were both savoring the moment, knowing that the feelings you felt now never could be repeated. There was a sweetness to it, a promise that he would take care of you. He pulled you closer, his hands resting on your waist. You melted into him, the warmth of his body igniting something within you.

As you pulled away slightly, breathless, Hotch rested his forehead against yours, his dark eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” you whispered. “Really good.”

“Good,” he echoed, the tension in the air shifting from nerves to excitement. “Then let’s keep going. Just remember what I said.” He placed his lips back on yours.

Hotch's hands moved to the hem of your shirt, waiting for your approval before gently lifting it over your head, only breaking the kiss for a split second.

The kiss deepened, and time seemed to lose its meaning as you melted into each other. Your fingers moved to the buckle of his belt, carefully opening it, not sure if you were moving too fast or not.

Hotch pulled back slightly, his gaze searching yours, a silent question hanging between you. The intensity in his eyes made your heart race, a mixture of excitement and nervousness swirling within you. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “I want this,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. The sincerity in your tone matched the pounding of your heart, and with that admission, you felt a sense of liberation wash over you.

Hotch’s expression softened, and a small, proud smile graced his lips. “Okay,” he replied. He leaned back in to kiss you, deepening the connection between you. The kiss felt electric, filled with unspoken promises and a hunger that ignited every nerve ending in your body.

You sank onto the bed, and he followed, hovering over you. The way he looked at you made your heart swell — his eyes darkened with desire, yet they remained soft, filled with love and adoration for you. It was a potent combination that only heightened the electricity in the air between you.

Hotch leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “If at any point you want to stop, just say the word. I promise we can take as much time as you need.” His voice was a deep murmur.

“Okay,” you breathed, your pulse racing. You felt a thrill at the thought of surrendering to this moment, to him.

As he kissed down your neck, the warmth of his lips igniting your skin with every kiss, you let out a soft sigh, arching your back into his touch. Hotch’s hands explored your sides, trailing along your curves, sparks of pleasure shooting through you with every gentle caress. He paused for a moment, his gaze locked onto yours, seeking permission to ignite the next step.

“Please,” you whined, the word escaping your lips almost breathlessly, an invitation laced with longing.

With that, he pressed his body closer, carefully sliding into you. You furrowed your brows at the foreign feeling. Hotch stilled as he was halfway in, waiting for you to adjust to him. He rested his forehead against yours, slowly pushing the rest of his cock inside. You watched the veins in his arms flex with every movement.

“Just breathe,” he murmured, his breath felt hot against your skin. He was attuned to your every reaction, a gentle guide navigating this uncharted territory with you. You felt as if you were floating, swept up in the tides of your emotions, every heartbeat echoing in your ears.

Hotch’s movements were measured, each one deliberate and filled with intent. The way he studied your expressions, responding to your every sigh and shift, made you feel seen in a way that you had never felt before. He was a master of the delicate dance you were dancing, guiding you through the peaks and valleys of pleasure with a sensitivity that left you breathless.

As the warmth of the moment began to settle around you, you lay wrapped in Hotch’s arms, the soft glow of the bedside lamps illuminating the room.

You could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath your head, a steady and calming presence that made you feel safe. Hotch shifted slightly, pulling you closer as he brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your skin.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice was laced with genuine concern as he tilted your chin to meet his gaze.

You nodded, a small smile breaking across your lips. “I’m more than okay,” you replied, your voice was barely a whisper, yet it was filled with genuine sincerity. “That was… incredible.” You closed your eyes, exhaling as you relaxed into his arms.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss against your forehead. “I’m glad,” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. “I wanted it to be special for you.”

As you nestled deeper into his embrace, you couldn’t help but reflect on the journey that had brought you to this moment. The playful banter, the stolen glances, the kisses in the copy room, everything that had led to this exact moment with the man you loved.

“I was nervous,” you admitted. The admission felt both freeing and slightly vulnerable, but you knew that honesty had and would always be essential between you. “I didn’t know what to expect.”

Hotch nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I was too. It’s a big step to take.” His voice was filled with reassurance. “I hope you know that you can always talk to me about how you’re feeling.”

Your heart swelled at his words. “I do know that,” you replied, a soft smile playing on your lips. “And I really appreciate it.” You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, wishing you could stay like this forever.

He smiled back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

As the minutes turned into an hour, you both remained entwined, sharing quiet stories and laughter, your hearts beating in tune with each other.

Eventually, as the night deepened and the stars twinkled outside the window, you felt a sense of peace settle over you.

With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes as you nestled closer, feeling his arm tighten around your frame. “I’m really glad we did this,” you murmured your voice was thick with sleepiness.

“Me too,” he replied as your breathing evened out. Hotch pressed another kiss to the top of your head.

He smiled at your sleeping form, knowing that he wanted to stay like this forever. To stay with you forever.

795 notes · View notes

pomefioredove · 7 months ago

Note

So idk if I'm requesting in the right place. But I would love a twst scenario with a yuu that just says all their intrusive thoughts. Like just out of NOWHERE, as they reach for a water bottle hanging out with the first years they go.

“I robbed a house back home”

Or when Azul tries cornering them with the twins for something they just blankly turn to Floyd going.

“duck off you look like you can't steer a shopping cart”

But feel free to do it with whoever you want and if you don't want to do mine that's perfectly fine and I hope you have a great day :)

certainly!!

summary: reader who speaks all their impulsive thoughts type of post: headcanons characters: heartslabyul, octavinelle, scarabia, diasomnia additional info: platonic or romantic, reader isn't specified to be yuu, reader is gender neutral author's note: for some reason I had the hardest time thinking up new nonsense, so many of these dialogue lines are from lewis carroll poems, which I have a wonderful nostalgia for. check those out as well!

Ace and Deuce are pretty much used to you saying whatever's at the top of your mind... with no filter

so used to it that it barely even registers with them anymore

whenever it's quiet, they can expect you to come out with some incomprehensible nonsense.

if you didn't, they'd probably ask what's wrong

"I robbed a house back home,"

"Yeah, okay,"

Riddle, on the other hand, gets frustrated alarmingly fast

despite running an entire dorm based on nonsensical rules, he has a low tolerance for outside nonsense

and... well, despite his name, he's not really a fan of riddles

Trey matches your energy immediately

no joke. he doesn't even bat an eye

"I eat plastic,"

"hm. sometimes I eat muffin wrappers,"

honestly, sometimes his tangents get even weirder than yours

Cater probably wasn't listening very closely when you first started going off, or maybe he's just become accustomed to riddles, though the next time you say something he just thinks it's cute

might use your "thoughtful anecdotes" as a caption for his next post

would it be surprising if I were to say Azul is used to randomness?

Floyd has a tendency to say the strangest things out of nowhere, after all, and the sea itself can be a surprising place

he does not, however, appreciate how you keep speaking in tongues when he's trying to have serious business conversations with you

(seriously, how hard can it be to swindle one person?!)

"Please, just talk normally,"

"But the mome raths outgrabe!"

he doesn't know what that means, but it sounds like an insult

...and then will refuse to converse with you again until you're in a "better mood" (in his own words)

Jade, on the other hand, finds you quite fascinating

he keeps a little notepad on him just to jot down the things you say. why? you can't imagine. he just finds it interesting, you suppose

"'Twas brilling..."

"Really? How interesting. Go on,"

Floyd isn't really paying much attention

your funny words amuse him at best and annoy him at worse

if you ever find yourself in a bad place with the octotrio, you can just say something like:

"You look like you can't steer a shopping cart,"

and Floyd will take actual offense to that, and just straight up leave

(much to Azul's dismay)

Kalim adds on right away

and keeps going

and keeps going... and keeps going...

"How doth the little crocodile improve his shining tail..."

"Oh, I know! He pours waters on every shining scale,"

at one point Jamil has to pull you aside and beg you not to encourage him

"No promises!" is your answer

Kalim even buys a parrot to add onto the fun

it becomes a three-person (or two-person-and-a-bird?) act

...even if you're not really doing it on purpose

Jamil is who ends up taking care of the parrot while it squawks your old nonsense thoughts, though

he likes the parrot much better than either of you

Malleus will entertain you based on his own curiosity

none of his other human classmates speak in such odd and puzzling words, so he knows it's a "you" thing

might try to solve them if they sound like riddles

but he mostly just thinks they're cute

"O, oysters, come and walk with us,"

"How interesting... I do wonder where you come up with all this,"

Sebek will listen to you because Malleus does, and Silver has enough nonsense to deal with as it is. will definitely fall asleep while you're talking to him

Lilia responds in like terms

meow at him? he'll meow back

in fact, he'll meow at you every time he sees you until you say something else to capture his curiosity

might go ahead and start speaking to you in tongues before you even say anything

he just thinks you're neat!

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #kinda...#malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader

2K notes · View notes

cupidddd-d · 10 months ago

Text

oh heart, and then it falls

in which theodore nott is actually nice to you?

gn reader but it's mentioned that they wear lip gloss !!

"ow, fuck!" you cried out as your potion bubbled over the edge of the cauldron, oozing onto your hand. tears of pain sprung to your eyes, and you could already feel the burns forming underneath the thick sludge sitting on your skin.

"nott, you were supposed to be watching the potion while i wrote notes!" embarrassingly, your voice broke, and you could feel a tear dripping down your face. your notes were ruined, your hand was burnt, you were crying in front of the boy who was most likely to make fun of you for it, and your potion was completely unsalvageable. you may have been hallucinating, but you could have sworn that you could smell burnt flesh.

"huh?" theodore's head jolted up from his conversation with draco. his eyes glanced from your hand to your face, and then back down again. "merlin...we've got to get you to the hospital wing..."

you walked in silence as he led you out of the hospital wing, staring down at where he was applying bandages to your hand. he had poured a numbing potion over the wound, but memories of your previous pain echoed around your body.

"why are you doing this, nott?" your mouth was dry as you stared down at his gentle movements. what happened to the boy who practically fed off of your despair?

"i mean...i'm not a total monster. i don't like you, but it's not like i want you to be hurt." he let out a little scoff, his eyes darting to the side.

"could've fooled me," you rolled your eyes. "remember that time when you pushed my head into the cake on my birthday?" a little smirk was starting to cross your lips.

"that was 9 years ago, and i apologized!" he protested, a matching grin growing on his face.

"only after your mother forced you to," you retorted, rolling your eyes.

"at least i still apologized, right?" he shrugged, giving you a charming, well-practiced smile.

"shame, i still don't accept your apology," you mused.

the two of you sat in silence for a moment, letting him fully concentrate on fixing your hand.

"why are you doing this, nott?" you asked again, the question still weighing on your mind. for some reason, his previous answer didn't feel like the full truth. your eyes bore into his, your gaze so beseeching that it makes him divert his attention back to your bandaged hands.

"you know why." he said simply. quietly. his eyes were dark as they flit back to yours.

you inhaled sharply. if he was saying what you think he's saying... "no, i don't." your voice came out trembly and embarrassingly weak, and you kicked yourself mentally.

"i don't really have to spell it out for you, do i?" he was moving closer and closer. "stop me if you don't want this--and you should probably do it now, because i've waited so long for this moment, i think this might be your only opportunity."

his breath was fanning your lips now, his gaze stuck on your parted lips. you leaned in, and that was all it took for him to dive into you. his lips seared into yours, the kiss fervent. his hands were everywhere, cupping your jaw, pulling your waist to bring you closer to him, wrapping in your hair.

your eyes were wide as he pulled back, a smug smirk on his face as he licked his lips. "what is that, cherry flavored lip gloss?"

"nott-" you managed to stutter out.

"come on, darling. after what we just did, i'd expect us to be past the last-name basis." he snickered, leaning down to capture your lips with his once again.

#gender neutral reader #gn reader #harry potter #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theo nott #slytherin #slytherin boys #hogwarts #nott

2K notes · View notes

vanteguccir · 8 months ago

Text

── ୨୧ !　𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗢𝗢 𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗟

　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Chris misplace his priorities.

WARNING: Fighting, crying, cursing. ANGST with a happy ending.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N felt her heart sink as she watched Chris frantically scrolling through his phone, barely paying attention to her. The silence in the living room echoed the tension that had been building between them over the past few weeks, the memory of the previous day's event still fresh in Y/N's mind.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N sighed contentedly as she set the dark wooden table carefully, placing the plates and cutlery impeccably. She had spent the entire afternoon preparing Chris's favorite dish, with fresh ingredients, for the romantic dinner they had planned to have after the triplets recorded the video that would be posted next Friday. Everything was perfect, except for the emptiness that began to settle in her chest as the hours passed and Chris didn't appear.

At eight sharp, Y/N sat at the table, her heart filled with anticipation and anxiety. She watched the stairs leading to the front door with every sound she heard, willing him to come. But as the minutes dragged on, anxiety turned to despair.

Nine o'clock passed, and Y/N was still sitting alone at the table, her stomach churning with hunger and worry and her eyes staring into space, small tears burning her cornea. She tried calling Chris several times, but every call went to voicemail, as well as her messages going unread.

At ten o'clock, Y/N couldn't take it anymore. Thick tears began to stream down her face as she looked at the still untouched plate in front of her. The romantic dinner she had so lovingly prepared now seemed like a cruel reminder of her dashed hope.

With a choked sob, Y/N got up from the table, feeling completely desolate, her belly hurting from the weight and sobs that made her body shake. She carefully put the food away in the fridge, her hands shaking with disappointment.

That night, Y/N fell asleep in her boyfriend's room with a heavy heart and eyes swollen with tears, wondering if she would ever have the courage to take some initiative, before it was too late.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N was standing in front of the cinema, her heart full of expectation as she held a bucket of popcorn in her hands. She looked from side to side nervously, trying to spot Chris among the crowds rushing along the sidewalk. Time was running out, and her nervousness increased as the clock on her phone showed just ten minutes until the start of the movie, and her boyfriend still hadn't appeared.

And then, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her, Y/N's phone vibrated, indicating a new message. She grabbed the device anxiously, hoping to see an apology or explanation from Chris for the delay. But what she heard was something that made her shake with rage.

"Hi, baby." Chris’s voice sounded through the voicemail, but instead of an apology, there was a note of indifference in his words. "I know we planned to go to the movies today, but a last-minute party came up that I really need to go to. Do you remember Tara Yummy? It's hers! Well, I'm sorry for canceling like that at the last minute. Maybe we can meet up later, okay? Bye."

Y/N felt her world collapse upon hearing those words. Chris's betrayal, his indifference to her feelings as he sent her the message just to break her as if it was some kind of promise, cut like a sharp knife. She clutched her phone tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.

Anger and sadness consumed her, bubbling inside her chest like a volcano about to erupt. With a cry of frustration, Y/N threw the bucket of popcorn and the tickets into the nearest trash bin, tears streaming freely down her cheeks as she felt suffocated by disappointment and pain.

And that night, Y/N walked away from the cinema, her heart broken and her confidence destroyed.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Chris." She began, shaking her head gently to shake the memories away, her voice trembling with the anguish she carried. "We need to talk."

Chris looked up from his phone for a moment, his tired eyes meeting hers briefly before returning to the bright screen in his hands.

"Not now, Y/N. I'm busy."

Those words hit Y/N like a punch in the stomach. She felt increasingly isolated and neglected, while Chris's world revolved around his career and his influential friends.

"You're always busy, Chris." Y/N murmured, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape her eyes. "There's never time for us."

Chris sighed, irritation rising across his skin like a shiver. He closed his eyes for a few seconds before looking up at the girl again, giving her a look full of hatred, which she had never seen before.

"I have responsibilities, Y/N. You know that. I can't just ignore my work to pay attention to you."

"I'm not asking you to ignore it." Y/N snapped, her voice rising in desperation. "I'm just asking for a little time for us. For our relationship. Yesterday you-"

Chris shook his head quickly, interrupting her, the traces of frustration deepening on his face.

"I already said I'm sorry! You always do this, Y/N. You're always trying to change who I am and what I do. You always try to change my priorities, like my world has to revolve around you. That's not how things work!"

Those words cut Y/N like a sharp blade, knocking all the air out of her lungs. She wasn't trying to change him. She just wanted to feel like he cared about her as much as he cared about his fame, but instead, he made her feel like a random crumpled up piece of paper.

"I just want you to include me in your life." Y/N whispered, her voice shaking with pain as her eyes blinked repeatedly, her eyelashes slowly becoming wet with tiny droplets from tears. "But it always seems like there's something more important."

Chris snorted, throwing the phone roughly onto his lap and turning abruptly to face her, an expression of disdain filling his eyes.

"You know what? Maybe it would be better if you took some time to think about what you really want, because it seems to me that everything I do isn't enough, and if you're not genuinely happy in this relationship, maybe you should evaluate your preferences!"

Chris' words echoed in Y/N's mind, leaving her stunned. She felt as if she had been hit by a train of conflicting emotions.

With a lump in her throat, the girl stood up from the couch abruptly, her legs shaking under the weight of her grief as her chest burned intensely, anguish gnawing at her insides.

"Maybe you're right." Y/N muttered, shrugging, her voice cracking with pain. "Maybe I need some time to figure out what I really want... Right?"

Chris watched in silence as Y/N walked away, her tears finally spilling freely down her cheeks, her lips pressed into a thin line tightly in an attempt to stop the sobs that wanted to escape.

The brunette frowned, watching his girlfriend's wet cheeks against the cool light of the room, feeling his chest hurt and his throat tighten, begging to call her back, and apologize, but the words seemed to get stuck.

And so, Y/N left the triplets house that night, taking with her a broken heart and a soul full of uncertainty about the future of their relationship.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The frigid night air bit into Chris' skin as he walked through the empty streets of LA, his body shaking not only from the cold but also from the anxiety and remorse that consumed him. He couldn't bear another night without Y/N by his side, without feeling her comforting touch and hearing her soft laugh filling the silence.

His steps were heavy and slow, each carrying the weight of days of loneliness and regret that piled up on his shoulders. The memory of Y/N's desolate and disappointed face haunted his thoughts, an image that haunted him incessantly, preventing him from finding peace even at bedtime.

Chris knew he had done wrong, that he had hurt the person he loved most in the world with his negligence and misplaced priorities. He blamed himself for his actions, for putting his work and his friends before her, for leaving her alone and helpless at times when she needed him most, or just wanted his company and love.

The mere memory of coming home on Thursday before everything fell apart, and finally seeing all the lost messages from his girl, along with a plate full of his favorite food neatly packed in the fridge made his heart ache as if human hands were squeezing it.

As he made his way through the deserted streets, the silence of the night was deafening, a cruel metaphor for the loneliness he had caused himself. Each step brought him closer to the home that had once been his refuge, the place where he found comfort in Y/N's arms and where he hoped he could right the wrongs he had done.

Finally, the brunette arrived at the door of the small, simple house, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he hesitated to ring the doorbell. He knew he didn't deserve Y/N's forgiveness, that his empty words and broken promises couldn't erase the pain he caused.

But he had to try. He had to show her that he was sorry, that he loved her more than anything in this world, and that he would do anything to have her back by his side.

With a shaky sigh, Chris finally pressed the doorbell and waited, his heart hammering in his chest as he crossed his arms, shifting his weight from one leg to the other in an act of nervousness, the cold of the night penetrating his bones.

On the other side of the door, Y/N hesitated, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she tried to gather the courage to face the stranger that was there. The last few days had been a storm of sadness and loneliness, her mind spinning in circles of anguish as she struggled to understand what had happened between her and Chris, where everything went wrong.

When she finally mustered enough courage to turn the doorknob, what she saw made her freeze in place. Chris was there, standing in front of her, his eyes red and swollen from crying. His face was contorted into an expression of pain and regret, and Y/N felt her heart tighten even more at the sight of the person she loved so much in a deplorable state.

"Chris." Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she tried to process the scene before her eyes.

Chris didn't say anything, he couldn't. He just sobbed, thick tears flowing freely down his cheeks as he fought to contain the overwhelming emotions that overwhelmed him. His body shook violently, each sob a painful reminder of all the mistakes he had made in the last few weeks.

Y/N felt tears in her own eyes as she looked at him, her heart breaking at the pain she saw reflected in his eyes. Without thinking, she stepped forward and wrapped Chris in a tight hug, letting him cry on her shoulder as she gently stroked his hair, her own tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

For long minutes, they stayed there, lost in each other's arms that transcended the words and hurts. It was as if, in that moment, their wounded souls found a refuge in each other, a source of comfort and peace amid the chaos their lives had become.

"Baby! B-baby, I'm- I'm so sorry, so fucking sorry-" The boy's words came out in broken sobs, his words almost incomprehensible.

Y/N closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her heart clenching by her own pain. With a sigh, she pulled away lightly, holding his hand firmly and gently guiding him into her house, closing the door behind them, the warmth of the walls enveloping their cold bodies.

Y/N led Chris over to the living room couch, keeping a cautious distance as he sat down next to her on the cushioned seat. Uncomfortable silence hung between them, filled with tension and unspoken emotions, as Y/N waited patiently for Chris to find the words to express what was in his heart.

Finally, after a long moment, Chris broke the silence, his voice still cracked from his recent crying.

"Baby, I... I know I was wrong. I know I hurt you deeply with my actions, and I never wanted to make you feel that way."

Chris sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he tried to find the right words, his right leg bouncing up and down in anxiety.

"I was so obsessed with YouTube, with my success, that I ended up neglecting the most important thing in my life: you. I got lost in the cool lights and the adrenaline of fame, and I forgot how much you mean to me. And I'm so fucking sorry for that." His lower lip trembled slightly, making him trap it between his teeth.

The boy's words cut deep into Y/N, reigniting the pain and hurt she had kept inside. She felt tempted to step away to protect her heart from the possibility of being hurt again. But something in Chris's eyes made her hesitate, something she recognized as genuine regret and love.

"Chris..." Y/N began, her voice shaky and filled with uncertainty. "You don't understand how much it hurt me every time you kept me waiting, every time you put your work and your friends before me. I felt so alone, so unappreciated."

"I know, Y/N. And I'm sorry, from the bottom of my heart. I would do anything to make things right, to prove that you're my real priority." Chris lowered his head, frowning and fixing his eyes on his legs, guilt weighing on his shoulders.

Y/N raised her right hand, taking it to his chin covered with the beard he had let grow in the last few days, pushing it up so that she could look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and desperation reflected there.

She wanted to believe him and wanted to open her heart to forgiveness and the possibility of a future together again. But the pain of everything that had been done brought her such insecurity that she knew she needed time to heal.

"I don't know, Chris." Y/N murmured, the hand that was holding his chin falling with a thud onto her lap. "I'm still hurt, I'm still trying to process everything that happened. I don't know if I can just forgive and forget."

Chris swallowed hard, fear evident in his eyes as his mind screamed at him to do everything, anything. Even if he needed to kneel in front of his girl to get her back.

"Please, Y/N. I promise I'll do everything to make this right, to be the boyfriend you deserve. Just give me a chance to prove that I can change."

Y/N looked at him again, seeing the vulnerability in his gaze. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but there was something about Chris, something she couldn't ignore, something that gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to the way they were before.

With a resigned sigh, Y/N reached her hand out to Chris again, taking his and intertwining their fingers tightly, her heart warming with the touch she had missed so much.

"I forgive you, Chris." She murmured, her voice sounding soft but her eyes carrying an indescribable firmness. "But know that things are going to have to change. Your priorities are going to have to take the right path this time."

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @bellasfavbisexual @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @bellasfavbisexual @soso-scarlettolivia @maryx2xx @sturnolio-luvs @sturnsjtop

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

1K notes · View notes

oikasugayama · 11 months ago

Text

YOU CATCH HIM M@STURBAT!NG pt. 2

MDNI, this is NSFW content for adults!!

pt. 1 Fyodor, Poe, Chuuya | pt. 2 Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Dazai | pt. 3, Ranpo, Akutagawa, Ango | pt. 4 Sigma, Mori, Tetcho | pt. 5 (finale) Atsushi, Nikolai

Fukuzawa

ok this one you did NOT expect. you've seen dazai get a hard-on at work, you've heard junichiro and naomi (NOT siblings though they grossly pretend to be) talking about their sex plans after work, but YOUR BOSS? THE PRESIDENT??

he's in his office palming his boner through his clothes when you open the door. you come in like always, using your shoulder to hold the door open as you turn and come in backwards so that the tray of tea you're holding doesn't get knocked over by thumping against the door.

you're almost across the room to his desk by the time you realize that there's a VERY DISTINCT tent in his yukata that he can't decide if he should push down with his hand or not--either way it's obvious that he's hard.

his face is flushed, he's shocked, embarrassed, and extremely apologetic.

you're frozen for a moment, but when he says your name and "i'm so sorry" you decide to pretend like you don't see anything. you put the tray down on his desk, pour him a cup of tea, and tell him to page for you if he needs anything.

you close the door behind you and have to take a moment to gather yourself. he's your boss so there's absolutely no way you were about to come onto him, but god he's so kind and handsome and his deep voice is just so fucking hot. you feel like a creep being there while he was trying to have a private moment, but he was at work, he should have known better than to touch himself when you were scheduled to bring his afternoon tea-- wait, did he do it on purpose? should you go back in? no. no he wouldn't have done that. it must have been an accident.

you tell yourself it must have been an accident and go back to work like nothing happened, though it's all you can think about all day.

Kunikida

he desperately needs to relieve stress after an incredibly tiresome and busy week. he just got back to his dorm, looking forward to two days off work. he wastes no time settling onto his couch, cracking open his laptop, and playing a random porn video (it helps him get the job done more efficiently because watching makes him cum faster)

he uses earbuds so he doesn't disturb his neighbors, unfortunately this means that while he's in the midst of it he doesn't hear you unlocking his door (he gave you the key for emergencies because you're responsible--you occasionally drop groceries off to him if you're making a trip out and he needs something, much like is happening right now)

you open the door and there he is, vest and shirt unbuttoned, pants and boxers pulled down just enough to get his cock out. one hand works over his length steadily while the other cups his balls. you gasp and drop the bag of groceries, turning and slamming the door closed behind you.

his eyes were closed, though, so he didn't notice until the slam of the door echoed past the sound of the video he watches. when he sees the bag on the ground he immediately knows what must have happened and he's so fucking embarrassed that he feels sick. he hopes you don't think he did it on purpose; he couldn't have known you would come over right now.

he tries to go to your dorm a few hours later, but you don't answer when he knocks, and you don't respond to his texts all weekend.

on monday in the ADA office he waits until you're the only two in the room, then he quietly approaches you and says he owes you an apology.

"for what?" you ask, playing dumb.

"i suspect that when you came by my dorm to drop something off you may have seen me doing something inappropriate. i sincerely apologize that you had to see that. i had no idea you would be coming over."

you take a few seconds to think of what to say, but eventually settle on "it's not inappropriate to touch yourself, kunikida. you're an adult, you can do what you want in your own home"

he blushes deeply, feeling warm all the way to his toes.

"that may be so, but regardless, i apologize that you had to see it. i hope we can forget about this soon."

"oh, I'll never forget," you say wistfully, turning away in your spinny chair. "it's burned into my eyes. every time i close them, there you are......."

Dazai

he's on the roof of the ADA building, lying in the middle instead of near the edge. he's staring up at the sky, pondering how small he is in such a vast universe.

and then he gets a random surprise boner and thinks, well i might as welllll.......

you were downstairs working when kunikida asked you to find dazai and make him go back to work. dazai tended to listen to you, after all.

you checked all of his usual spots--the couch, under his desk, under atsushi's desk, in the supply closet, in the cafe downstairs, and finally you went to the roof, hoping he wasn't sitting a hair's width from the edge again like he was the last time you found him up there.

when you open the door, you first notice that he's spread out on the ground with his head turned away from you and think maybe he's passed out--then you notice his hips buck up into his hand and his back arch up a little.

the wind carries the sound of his voice over to you, and you swear he just said your name.

"dazai?" you say meekly, and his head whips to the side, eyes wide in surprise as he sees you. he sits up quickly, turning away from you, using his coat to cover his crotch.

"um... kunikida... he wanted me to find you."

"...okay... please don't tell him what I was doing."

"I really, genuinely won't."

"...okay... do you, um... are you, um... did you hear what i, uh.. what i said when you... got here..."

"yeahhh..."

"shit..."

"hm... i didn't know you were into me, honestly," you say, shrugging.

"oh, yeah," dazai says, feeling very vulnerable since you caught him with his literal pants down. "ranpo told, like, everyone. i'm surprised you didn't, um... you didn't know?"

"no, i didn't know... i think you're cute, for what it's worth."

"oh?"

"yeah. you know, maybe we could talk about this another time? i don't feel like this is the most appropriate setting for this conversation."

"agreed... wait, so you're not, like, gonna run to HR or something, or-- i have a chance?"

"yeah, you have a chance. you're a fucking disaster, though..." you turn back to the door, but throw one more sentence over your shoulder. "oh, and dazai, you know we don't have an HR department."

#bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #dazai smut #dazai headcanons #bungo stray dogs headcanons #fukuzawa x reader #fukuzawa smut #fukuzawa headcanons #kunikida x reader #kunikida smut #kunikida headcanons #mdni #i live for DISASTER dazai

2K notes · View notes

axiina · 4 months ago

Text

I think I'm finally worn

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: Aegon managed to keep up appearances for a long time, a mask behind which he hid everything he felt... until finally, he could no longer do so.

Themes: angst, comfort

Warnings: Delulu fanon Aegon, toxic relationship, addictions, depression, mental break down

Author's note: In anticipation of the fifth episode I come with a short angst with Aegon. The scene where he cried and Alicent came out destroyed me, so here we are with comforting our broken boy

Aegon felt awful.

He had no idea if it was due to the excess of alcohol he was pouring into himself every day, or perhaps because of how he was slowly spiralling down. In truth, he felt that his whole life was one big failure heading towards a final doom.

He had always shown by his behaviour that he was not afraid of this moment or perhaps even looking forward to it. The reality, however, was different.

He was afraid. He was so damn scared.

Every moment when he wasn't drinking himself till passing out was a nightmare. He can't even remember how much time has passed since the last time he was sober.

It was easier that way. The days passed quickly and without unnecessary thoughts. Between the drinking and the whores during his days, there was no room for reflection.

Today, however, was worse, but Aegon couldn't tell why.

No one particularly bothered him. His mother didn't pop up with another argument about what a failure he was, and his father...his father ignored him as usual.

And yet, this strange feeling had been with him since the morning. Hopelessness and overwhelm. This state was already familiar to him, and yet today, it seemed several times worse.

It stifled him and left him unable to breathe. His eyes would close with tears when he least expected it, and his clenched throat made it impossible to drink.

Until he couldn't hold it in any longer.

He didn't even notice when his wife entered his chamber, immersed in an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness. Aegon was slumped in his seat, weeping without even knowing why. He was completely defenceless like a small child.

He needed something to soothe the tangle of emotions that, like ties, wrapped around his body, restraining it painfully. His skin seemed to burn, to ache. He felt like scratching it until it bled until it finally stopped.

Make it finally stop.

Aegon looked up at woman in his chamber and realized he couldn't do it. He just didn't have the strength. His wife's worried gaze only made him more upset. He hated the feeling that she could see him now, so vulnerable and broken, crying like a baby. Aegon didn't want this.

And yet, on the other hand, his heart was screaming and begging for at least a little comfort.

"I don't...I don't know..." He tried to speak, but his voice broke. He tried again, but it was clear that he was unable to explain.

Aegon took a deep breath, but after a moment it turned into a sob. He cursed inside, but it was too late to fight already. He felt pathetic, ashamed. But at the same time, he couldn't stand to be alone now. Aegon didn't want to be left alone with all these thoughts tormenting him.

"Please," he said finally, not looking at her. "Don't leave."

He was terrified by the mere thought that she could leave now.

As if waiting for this small sign of comfort, Aegon immediately leaned into her embrace when she walked closer to him in silence and pulled him closer to her body. He rested his forehead against her stomach, his arms snaking around her hips as tightly as possible. He clutched at her dress, his fingers digging into the fabric like a drowning man grasping for anything solid to keep him afloat.

The tears were streaming down his face as he wept like a little boy.

All the years of disappointment, all the suppressed anger, all the pain and despair that he had stubbornly hidden behind a mask of a heartless rake.

But at this moment, the only reality that mattered was her. Her warm and gentle caress on his hair, soft kisses on top of his head.

He just needed her to be there with him.

#hotd #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #hotd fanfic #send me asks #ask me anything #send asks #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon targaryen

600 notes · View notes

rhaenyra-storms · 5 months ago

Note

Aegon x healer!reader where reader is affectionate yet professional? She's taking care of him like a child and Aegon, being a meow meow with mommy issues has fallen hard.

oh, we all know aegon has deep mommy issues, so this is definitely something i can imagine happening heheh

pairing: aegon targaryen x f!reader warnings: aegon is falling hard AND FAST, mommy issues, description of an open wound, blood, he just wants to be cared for, aegon could be a warning (but he's soft in this), alcohol addiction words: 1.5k

masterlist

Aegon didn't want to fall in love with you. It was really more of an accident in his eyes. Growing up with his mother's influence and going through a phase of defying her and then obeying her, he could maybe trace his interest in you back to that.

He always wanted to impress his mother like Aemond did. He wasn't as gentle as Helaena or as strong as Aemond.

Maybe he just wanted someone to care for him and just him. His mother had always been bouncing between the realm, his father and his siblings. All those expectations set upon him from a young age had made him turn to alcohol and it was the only thing strong enough to numb his thoughts in a sufficient way.

Until you came along.

You were meant to check in on him, making sure the king was healthy and well. Most of his servants didn't really engage in friendly conversation with him, so he didn't expect you to be any different.

It was a rainy day when you had come in to check out a bruise on his skin that didn't seem to disappear for weeks. It wasn't anything serious, based on your knowledge, but you took your time that day and it was just you and the King in the room. Aegon had been in a rather bad mood the entire time you had been here, but the silence was uncomfortable as only the storm could be heard raging outside.

"Did you plan on going outside today, your grace?” You asked him as you stirred the ointment you had prepared a few minutes ago.

Aegon never liked to talk and he loved to avert his gaze from you all the time.

On the few occasions you had met his brother, Prince Aemond, you could tell that this was a key difference between them. You often felt like the younger prince's eye never left you, burning holes into your back even when you didn't look at him.

Your presence seemed to annoy him. So you didn't really expect him to answer at all, but at least you would have tried to make a bit of friendly conversation.

"Not really. We're having a council meeting later on."

Aegon's voice was more quiet than usual, his gaze distant as he watched the rain pour in buckets outside.

You tried to hide the surprise you were feeling. This was the most words Aegon had ever spoken to you, but you didn't want to ruin the moment by telling him that. "I hope it goes well, your grace," you replied instead, moving closer to the King.

"Would you mind showing me the bruise again?"

Aegon complied without another word, stretching out his arm and pulling his sleeve up.

He noticed how gentle you were when you applied the ointment to his skin and for a short moment, he even took a closer look at you. The King had met a few healers throughout his life, but none of them had been as pretty as you were.

She is not yours to desire.

His mother's voice echoed in his head. When he was younger, Aegon took whatever he wanted, but he felt too exhausted for that now. While the wine was able to drown out his worries, he always felt like catastrophe was right around the corner. They were heading towards a war and in the private confines of his chambers, he didn't have the energy to act confident anymore.

He didn't even thank you when you were done with your work. You were just dismissed, as usual, but you couldn't help feeling a little satisfied that you had coaxed a few words out of the King at least.

Most of your meetings with the King followed the same pattern. However, he did let a few more words slip each time.

Once, you even managed to make him laugh with a simple joke of yours.

You had heard Aegon laugh before. It was always a loud and menacing one, but that one time you had joked with him, his laugh was gentle and almost too quiet to be heard.

It had been two weeks since your last visit to the King and there wasn't any scheduled meeting ahead of you. You had done your routine checks the last time you had seen him and unless he hurt himself badly, you wouldn't be called upon.

The sun had already disappeared behind the trees of the King's Wood as you prepared to call it a day for now. You were on your way back to the castle gates, having finished a visit to the King's brother, when a Knight of the Kingsguard caught up with you in the hallway.

"I am sorry to disturb you, m'lady, but the King has hurt himself and needs your assistance."

There wasn't any room for you to argue here. You were tired and wanted to go home for the day, but if the King was in need of your help, you weren't in a position to deny it. You didn't even find yourself wanting to. What had Aegon gotten into this time?

His guard didn't follow you inside the room. Instead, he closed the heavy doors behind you and for a moment, you couldn't even spot Aegon in the room.

However, you could hear quiet groans from behind the blinds opposite of you. "Your grace?"

Aegon tumbled towards you eventually, clutching his left hand with his right one. "I need your help."

His pale skin was stained with blood. The red liquid dropped onto the floor and your breath caught in your throat. You placed your pack of supplies down, grabbing the first towel you could find in it and rushed over to him.

Aegon's face had turned red, his eyes fixated on you as you gently manoeuvred him over to a chair, wrapping the towel around his injured hand.

"What happened, your grace?" You asked, pressing the fabric against the wounds.

"I cut myself." His right hand wasn't injured, but it was covered in blood. He pointed to the other side of the room where glass shards were scattered over the floor and more bloodstains could be seen around them.

"I need to clean the wound first. Stay here," you mumbled quickly and rushed over to retrieve a clean wipe before soaking it with alcohol. You didn't want to risk the king getting an infection and you definitely had to talk to the maester to keep a close eye on him from now on. If he was showing the slightest signs of a fever, you should be called immediately.

Aegon's head hurt, but it didn't stop him from staring at you. The worried expression in your eyes... he was rarely able to see it aimed at him. Everyone always looked at him greedily or with hatred glowing in their eyes. He wasn't loveable and everyone around him made sure to tell him that.

But when you cleaned and bandaged his wounds, talking softly to him while doing so, and looking like you cared, he for once felt like someone could genuinely like him. It didn't have to be love, of course, but he felt like he was experiencing it in some way.

You were smart and beautiful and you cared enough for Aegon to let his guard down. Enjoy your beautiful eyes and bathe in the feeling of genuinely being cared for.

It was happening fast. Too fast.

But all he had ever known were the cold stares from his mother, his brother and especially his wife and sister.

"You need to be more careful, A-"

Your breath caught in your throat. "I am sorry, your grace, I-"

Aegon lifted his healthy hand for a moment. "Don't worry about it. I prefer Aegon anyway."

Had he ever allowed a servant to call him by his name? No. Did it feel right to have you do it when you always gave him those sweet smiles? Definitely. "It's just Aegon," he clarified.

Your eyes visibly widened at the correction. It was surprising that the King would allow you to call him by his first name, but you wouldn't complain. He looked more content after he offered it to you and that expression looked good on him.

"Of course. Just Aegon," you smiled, closing the bandage around his hand once and for all. You then filled a cup with water, handing it to the King and your patient. "Drink. It would be best for you to rest and not put too much pressure on your left hand."

While Aegon always loved to defy whatever someone told him to do, he was happy to oblige this time. He took the cup from you and downed it in one go, placing it back down on the table afterwards.

"Thank you. For..."

When had he ever genuinely thanked someone in the last few years?

"For helping me."

You let out a small laugh, looking at the man in front of you. "There is no need to thank me, Aegon. It's my profession after all. Helping you and looking after you."

Your voice was so sweet and soft, it sounded like music to Aegon's ears. He wanted to hear it play more often from now on.

He couldn't keep cutting himself on purpose to make you care for him, but he could invite you to more joyful meetings.

Because it felt good to actually be cared for. Especially by someone as beautiful as you.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen headcanons #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd imagines #hotd fan fiction #got #aegon targaryen fic #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen x y/n

1K notes · View notes

b00kdiary · 10 months ago

Note

Could I request Azriel and Plus Size reader where they’re both new to the mate bond and she overheard Azriel and Rhys’ conversation about the “Cauldron being wrong.” She left before she was able to hear Azriel call himself a fool for even believing it for a second, knowing that he’s already kissing the ground his own mate walks on. She starts comparing herself to Elain and then starts lashing out, going to Rita’s every night and avoiding Azriel whenever she sees him.

Cauldron Blessed | Azriel

Azriel (ACOTAR) x Plus Size Reader

Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, body-image issues, angst, and eventual smut.

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

'The Cauldron was wrong, so wrong.'

Those words played and replayed in my mind again and again, all day, every day, for the last week.

Wrong.

He said that the Cauldron was wrong- about us, about me.

Me, his mate- wrong.

It had been an accident, me overhearing them that night, a coincidence I had decided to come home early from my girl's night with Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie. Though with the Cauldron, there was no such thing as an accident, no such thing as coincidence.

I'd waded through the House of Wind, tipsy on wine and giggling softly to myself as I banged into the walls, thumping clumsily against the art pieces hanging and tripping over my own two feet. Giddy, I had been giddy, stumbling through the halls in search of him.

Azriel, my mate.

Only a few hours apart and I missed him, yearned for him, I felt the distance as if it spanned miles and the more I drank, the more I craved him. That's all I had been thinking of when I trekked through the empty halls, closer and closer to the lounge- just of my mate.

And that's when I heard it.

"The Cauldron works in mysterious ways," Rhysand's laugh drifted out to me in the corridor, and I came to an unsteady halt at the sound. "Feyre was my salvation; I didn't expect anything good to come to me Under the Mountain."

I smiled to myself, my hand coming to my mouth, shielding any sound that threatened to slip past- Az always teased that my lips loosened when I drank too much. Instead, I lean against the cold wall, warmth filling me as he gushed about my High Lady.

They were Cauldron blessed, that was clear to see.

"I think five hundred years of waiting for her was enough, brother," Cassian snorted, and I heard the faint sound of liquor pouring into a glass, wings rustling as one of the powerful males moved. "I know I never imagined my mate as a twenty-five-year-old human female, with a bite worse than mine."

I bit my lip as Cassian laughed, a loud, bellowing sound, so full of joy, so full of content, the mere memory of Nesta, human and utterly indomitable against him something that still brought him to his knees.

"The Cauldron must have a sense of humour," Rhysand teased, and I could practically envision Cassian rolling his eyes, a vulgar gesture thrown between the two males. "Connecting people in the most unexpected pairs, in the most unexpected ways."

"Like Elain and Lucien," Cass scoffs, loudly chugging back the remnant in his glass, "There's a pair I could never have foreseen, not in a thousand years."

"Proof that the Cauldron isn't always right," Azriel muses for the first time since I arrived, and my body almost croons at the sound- low and rough, moving over me as sure as if it were his hands. "She deserves better than any male friends with Tamlin, that's for sure."

She deserves better.

It was silly I knew, for the mere mention of her, the thought of her to make me feel nauseous, make my smile instantly fade, but I couldn't help it. It was hard for me to see a female as lovely as Elain Archeron and not feel inadequate by comparison.

Another who was blessed, so lovely that she had been gifted her seer abilities by the Cauldron itself as if her beauty and delicate demeanour weren't gift enough.

"Brave words, Az," Rhys whistled, and I had to force myself to blink away the picture-perfect image I had conjured of the middle Archerson sister, forcing myself to focus on their conversation instead. "Openly opposing the Cauldron."

"Brave or stupid?" Cassian counters tauntingly, and I knew he was drunk just from how loud his voice was, practically bouncing off the walls. "You think the Cauldron makes mistakes?"

"I know it does," Azriel challenges and it was that voice, that sure, quiet demeanour that I adored and desired so fiercely. I inch closer to the door, grinning at the idea of popping out and scaring them- but then he says it.

Says the thing that makes me stop dead in my tracks, makes my heart stop dead in my chest.

"Look at me and Y/N," Azriel sighs, and there's no joy, or adoration or yearning in his voice in memory of me, not like Rhys or Cass- no, there's dread. "The Cauldron made us mates... the Cauldron was wrong, so wrong."

There's a loud crack that echoes through the room, and it's that sound, and the feel of sharp debris against my palm, that pulls me from my memories. I blink through the tears, looking down at the crumbling marble sink, the corner pieces breaking off into my hands.

I sob through my teeth at the sight, small cuts leaking stark red blood down my fingers as I bring my hands to my chest. I can't see the looking- glass before me, not through the haze of tears, tears so strong it's as if I were made of them.

As if they had become a part of me.

It was all I had done the past week, cry and cry and cry- and avoid Azriel.

Every morning I skip training and breakfast, feigning fatigue or a full stomach, just so I wouldn't see him there. Each afternoon I'd get lost in the stacks and stacks of books in the library, so vast and endless that Azriel never stood a chance of finding me in the maze.

And at night I'd find solace wherever I could find a drink- Rita's, taverns, the Music Quarter, anywhere. Anywhere but at home, anywhere that I didn't have to see him.

I couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the sight of his face, even now the thought of his tilted smile, the beam of his soft hazel eyes, the touch of his scared hands and wild shadows, it made my whole body wrecked with sobs.

I couldn't bear any of it anymore- because none of it was real.

Every smile and touch, every kiss and moment where our bodies joined as one, where he confessed his love and devotion to me, it wasn't real. Azriel thought we were wrong, a mistake, a confusion, just wrong.

My hands shook as I wiped the tears from my cheeks, rougher than necessary, blood-smearing, but I was tired of tears, I was tired of crying, of feeling so unworthy. I was unworthy of him; he was beautiful inside and out and deserved so much better than me.

I sniffed as I lifted my gaze to the looking glass before me, and my heart hurt at the reflection, knowing that this was what Azriel saw, that this was why he knew the Cauldron was wrong. Every curve and roll and inch of flesh that I had, all of it, it was all wrong.

And I hated myself for it.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I take a step back and then another step, away from the reflection that taunted me, and mocked me, before forcing myself to look away. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat as I moved across the cold floor of my bathing suit, my body desperate for my bed.

And as I step over the door's threshold, and back into my old room in the House of Wind, I know it's not the same as when I had left it ten minutes ago.

He was here.

"Azriel," I gasped, halting at the sight of him- sat on the edge of my bed, his broad shoulders and powerful wings rising sharply at the sound of my voice, those hazel eyes meeting mine and filling with something honeyed and warm. "Wha- what are you doing here?"

He rises from the bed, elegant and still, his shadows dancing around him at the feel of my presence, the scent of my skin, and I shiver as he watches me, keen eyes gracing my stiff figure.

"Y/N," He sounds almost relieved as he says my name and my breath is caught in my lungs as I stay rooted to my spot, and he seems to sense my unease, as he doesn't move any closer to me. "You've been staying here for a week now; I missed you at home."

Home- the apartment we shared in town together, a cosy space that we had made our own.

Another thing I couldn't bear to face.

"I've been catching up with the girls," I say quietly, ripping my eyes from him and walking forward on numb legs. I tug at the hem of my nightshirt, his nightshirt I had stolen, feeling too bare before him and his eyes narrow at the movement. "It's just easier to sleep here when we have plans every day."

As spymaster it was Azriel's job to scrutinise, to observe and I felt every single part of that slot into place as he watched me now, watched as I moved toward the bed. I wasn't looking at him, I couldn't hold his stare- and he couldn't figure out why.

His shadows dance through the room, through the distance between us and I jolt, biting my lip when one brushes against my bare thigh- before scurrying back to Azriel in surprise. He inhales a sharp breath when his shadow whispers to him, telling him that something is wrong, I was wrong.

"I know you've been spending time with the girls," Azriel continues slowly, his voice tentative and soft as I move to the other side of the bed, furthest from where he stood. "I just feel like I haven't seen you at all... I miss you, sweetheart."

Sweetheart.

A sob threatened to rip from me at the name, so soft, so endearing on his lips and it took everything in me to not fall apart at that moment, to not crumble under the weight of it all. I shake my head, my back turned to him now and he watches as I tug back the duvet, my actions angry now.

"It's only been a week Azriel," I breathe through my clenched teeth, my tone so at odds with his and my body locking tighter at the sound of his impending footsteps. "Sometimes space can be good, it can be eye-opening, show us things we don't want to admit but know deep down."

My words hit him head-on, like a slap across the face- I don't need to see him to know it, I can tell just from the stillness in the room, the silence, so strong that even his shadows have withered.

I clench my eyes at the feeling, at the touch that strokes against my soul, him reaching out to me through the mating bond- and me slamming up every wall I have to keep him away.

"What does that mean?!"

I don't hear him until he's right behind me and when his large hand touches the small of my back, I jolt, stumbling into the bed to get away from it. I turn on shaking legs to face him, and I'm pressed into the mattress to keep the distance.

"What? Y/N-" His face pales, and I see the pain in his eyes, unlike anything I had ever witnessed from him before. It was raw, vulnerable as if five hundred years of existence couldn't hide the hurt, knowing that I had flinched from his touch, flinched from him.

A rejection- something he feared the most.

"Sweetheart, please, I don't understand," He shook his head, his beautiful face twisted into an agonised frown, and his voice trembled, weak, as weak as the hand that now reached for me, shaking as if scared to touch me. "Why won't you let me touch you? Why are you pulling away from me, why-"

He stops, and for a moment I think it's because of the tears steadily leaking down my face, the way my bottom lip trembles with the effort to hold myself together- but it's not. His nose flared, and the hazel in his eyes turned dark, narrowing down upon my hands.

"You're bleeding," He mumbles hoarsely and the pain in my chest triples when his scarred hands inch closer, my eyes fluttering shut the second he touches me, holding my palms in his and examining the small cuts. "What happened, sweetheart-"

"Don't! Don't- don't call me that, don't touch me," I croak out, my voice breaking and Azriel flinches at the cry in my voice, wings rustling when I yank my hands-free from his hold, as if his touch burned me. "Stop pretending, stop making me think you care, just-just stop."

"I don't understand, what do you mean pretending-" He pleads, his voice splintering, and I can see him thrumming with emotion, desperate to reach out to me, to hold me, but trying to respect what I had asked him. "I don't understand, help me understand what I did wrong-"

"I know how you feel about me, a-about us," I sob, my weak hands coming to my face, and I cry into them, so loud that nothing can muffle them, and I feel Azriel's' helplessness down the bond, still reaching for me, "It was cruel, to make me think-to make me think you loved me-"

"I do love you!" He snarls and my eyes snap open when I feel the familiar roughness of his hands against my wet cheeks, his grip unrelenting and needing as he draws me to him- and I don't have the strength to fight him. "Of course, I love you, why would you say that?"

His thumbs brush away the tears that won't stop leaking from my cheeks and somehow my fingers have found purchase in the material of his shirt, nails digging desperately, clutching him as tightly as he held me.

"You said it was wrong," I whisper, the words slurring in my throat, and I force my heavy eyes to his, force myself to look into those teary hazel eyes and confront him, with the burden I had been carrying alone this whole time. "You said that we were wrong, that the Cauldron was wrong."

His forehead creases, lines forming between the thick, dark brows as he peers down at me, and his hands don't release me, if anything they draw me closer.

And I see the moment realisation hits him, like ice-cold water seeping through his veins.

"I heard you talking to Rhys and Cass, you said we were proof," I gasp, feeling his shadows curl and wreath around my wrists and fingers, as if afraid to let go, as if trying to comfort me as I sniff. "You said we were proof that the Cauldron could be wrong, so wrong."

"I didn't mean you, Y/N, I would never mean you," He beseeches, his breath caressing my face, my lips and his eyes are so intense, so vibrant that I can't look away, "I didn't mean you, I meant me, I'm wrong!"

I suck in a harsh breath at his outburst and I feel it then- the self-deprecation, the vulnerability, the fear, it was all aimed at himself, it was all about him.

The silence stretches on as we stare at each other and my face must hold every ounce of my surprise and confusion, because he sighs, his forehead resting against mine. I see his wings sag behind him, as if defeated.

"I don't know how much you heard but I did not mean that the Cauldron was wrong to pair you with me," He mutters, his words unsteady, and my eyes flutter shut at his words, "I meant that the Cauldron was wrong to pair me with you- the Cauldron has blessed me but forsaken you."

"Azriel-" I gasped, and it was now my hand that lifted between us, my hand that cupped his stubbled cheek, forcing his eyes to mine. "That's not true, I'm not forsaken, I'm blessed, I'm Cauldron-blessed, Mother-blessed to have you-"

"Y/N you deserve the world, the sun and the moon and the stars," Azriel's voice breaks, a sob gurgling in his throat as he nestles against my palm, now wet with his tears. "I have spent five hundred years being unworthy of anything, and now that I have you, I will spend the next five hundred being unworthy of you."

He felt unworthy of me, he thought that he did not deserve me.

"Don't say that don't- you've given me the world and more," I shake my head, forcing every inch of surety and strength into my voice, "I love you, so much, so much that the thought of you thinking we were wrong, it killed me Az, because you're all I need."

He shakes his head against my hold, but his hands slip down my back, down my waist and to my hips and thighs, fingers digging into my flesh, holding onto my meat for leverage and pressing my soft body against his firm one for dear life.

"Not once did I ever think you were the problem, I thought it was me," His brow furrows deeper at my words, and I see the denial in his eyes, in his face, "I see a male who is beautiful inside and out, who is powerful and skilled, who has been a saviour to this Court in so many ways and I can't come close, I can't ever be equal to that Az."

"Y/N, no-" He growls, nails carving crescent moons into my flesh.

"I'm not a warrior like Nesta or a ruler like Feyre," I continue, and I open up the walls I erected to keep him out from my soul and mind, letting the mating bond flow freely again- to let him see all I had thought these few days. "I'm not beautiful like Elain... I'm not enough."

"You are everything," He hisses, and I can feel his overwhelming pain as sure as if it were my own as he graces over my feelings and thoughts- as he takes in every disgusting, horrific thing I had thought about myself, about my body. "You are everything and more to me, Y/N."

Power flashes through his eyes and then his head ducks toward me, capturing my lips in his.

Time seems to slow when his lips meet mine in a gentle collision, the kind of impact that steals the breath from my lungs, the kind I can't get enough of. Azriel grumbles at the taste of wine on my mouth, his tongue lapping at mine as if devouring the sweetness.

"Azriel," I sigh, like putty in his capable hands, and like always, he's skilled with how he handles my body, so easily turning us so my legs hit the mattress, my body weightless as he lifts me to sit on the edge.

"I have seen you navigate politics and arrogant High Lords in a way that has us all on our knees," He mutters against my lips, and I croon at the feel of his hands languishing up my thighs and hips, squeezing the flesh, his eyes dark with desire now.

His nose brushes against my cheek, so bare, as he kisses and trails his tongue along my jaw, moving down my neck and I can't do anything but moan softly as he lies me flat on my back, his powerful body towering over me, covering me wholly.

"I have seen you cut down soldiers triple your size as if they were little more than weeds in a field," His canines scrape against the racing pule-point at my neck and my eyes flutter, neck exposing for him and back arching when his hand cups my breast over my shirt.

He settles between my thighs, and he groans when his hard length brushes my wet core, the smell of arousal heavy in the air, the kind of stimulation that made us both dizzy with need. I arch my hips up to meet him, needing to feel something, anything from him.

"And I have seen males and females alike marvel at your beauty, at your body, desiring to see you without a scrap of clothing on," Azriel's voice turns furious, dark, as if the mere thought of someone else seeing me naked made him violent, honed to kill.

"Az, please," I mewl, fingers clawing at his back, feeling the muscles ripple under my touch, his shadows in a frenzy, caressing and dancing and wreathing around my body, feeding off every moan that escaped me. "I need you Az, please."

He presses long, wet kisses against my jugular and I sigh in relief when I feel his body shift, hips lifting and the sound of a belt clinking as he unhooks his slacks, freeing his hard length from within.

"I love you, sweetheart," His head lifts, face tight with sincerity and I can feel the thumping of his heart against mine, those intense eyes capturing me wholly. "I love all of you, I love all that you are-"

"Body," His fingers hook into my underwear, and I gasp as he tugs the wet material to the side, fingers brushing my clit.

"Mind," Our sounds meld as he rubs the tip of his cock against me, parting my folds, spreading my arousal from my entrance to my clit, and his breathing deepens as I whimper.

"And soul." He pushes into my entrance, stretching me just from the tip and automatically, my thighs clamp around his hips and my back arches at the feeling of him.

"I love you, Y/N," He pushes in until his long, thick length hits my cervix and my cunt is stretched thoroughly, throbbing around him. I trace my hands up his arms, nails scratching along every muscle, every strong, lean plane of him.

"I love you too, Azriel," I whisper back, and when my eyes flutter open, I see him above me and I know that nothing else, no one else could feel this right.

He doesn't move, merely staring down at me, his eyes burning like embers- feeling the thought as intensely as I did.

The Cauldron was right, so right.

----------------------------

@mis-lil-red @hyemishii @assaultsofthought @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @loveareum @infintyfandoms @sarawritestories @eerievixen

Comment to be added to the tag-list >3

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel smut #cassian acotar #rhysand #acotar smut #smut #plus size reader #azriel x plus size reader #acotar fanfiction #sarah j maas #sjmaas #plus size smut #plus size y/n

1K notes · View notes

messenger-of-babel · 2 months ago

Text

Picture Perfect

Summary: You and Bruce have the picture perfect relationship, but all it takes is a picture for it to be undone. (Bruce Wayne x fem!reader)

Word Count: 2.0K

Notes: So sorry for the late post! I know I'm posting at 1am but I had so much to do for work it's been a really rough week. I do often post late at night since that's when I get back, but I try to have then in before midnight at least. Not many warning for this one, only lightly edited due to busy at work. I'll work extra hard to make up for it~

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

If there was one thing about Bruce Wayne that you'd like to pass to the tabloids, it would be that he knew how to fuck up a Saturday dinner.

You'd gone out on his arm as usual, dolled up to the nines. It was hard not to, when he all but insisted to line your pockets with cash and pay for any trouble of yours to disappear. When you refused that, he settled for wrapping strings of diamonds around your neck and wrists. He'd do it with soft touch, grin lopsided as his chest pressed along your back to fasten them. When he looked at you with that twinkle in his eye, you could only wonder how long it'd take for him to put a diamond on your finger and complete the set.

You had both been dating steadily for eleven months, casting ripples across the delicate pond that was the Gotham high life. You had sworn it was only going to be a one-night stand, to go home with the most eligible bachelor for one night just to try him out. Well, you could say that he had definitely lived up to the expectations, but neither of you had expected to catch feelings. By the third gala you had gone home together, the Gazette was already in a tizzy, headlines running about how the billionaire playboy had been seen with the same socialite on his arm for nights in a row. Well, they damn well ran out of ink when you and Bruce became official at that year’s Winter Gala.

Despite the rumours fluttering around Gotham, you and Bruce were quite happy. He worked late nights, something you had come to realise the further your relationship got. It didn't bother you too much, as you were often in your office anyways. Since your father had died you had become the head of the company, and a woman being the head of the company was enough to stir the sharks below you, fighting to wrestle it out of your hands. Sometimes when you were doing paperwork you imagined Bruce in Wayne Tower himself, pouring over his own work. The thought brought a smile to your face, and it always made the nights feel less lonely.

You were so sure in your relationship that when you walked through the door of the restaurant he had taken you to, you hadn't noticed anything different about the stares that followed you both into the private booth. You were unaware of the eyes that scanned the palm branding your back, oblivious to the way women turned to whisper to each other with pitying voices.

It had been the best night after a rough week, wanting nothing more to end the night with a glass of expensive wine and Bruce's bedsheets wrapped around your legs.

It was shaping up to be the perfect night, but like they say, ignorance is bliss.

As you had been walking to the car, Bruce opening the door for you, a reporter had come into your face, camera flashing before you had a chance to react. "Hey, personal space." Bruce had growled, putting a hand on the other man’s chest and pushing him away. The reporter acted like he wasn't even there, eyes trained on you. "How do you feel about the current news circling Bruce Wayne? Do you think you both will survive this?"

Your blood freezes as you look at the reporter, Bruce's warm hand on your shoulder snapping you out of it.

"No more questions, please." he says gruffly, helping you into the back seat and climbing in after you. With a hand signal, Alfred had pulled away, hurriedly taking you to Wayne Manor. You felt numb sitting next to him, eyes staring forward at the seat in front of you. You didn't know what he meant, but the anxious feeling in your throat told you that the eyes following your car were more than usual.

Like all good things, they all come to an end. Unfortunately, that also happened to include your relationship with Bruce. you're surprised that your breath is as even as it is right now. Tears burn forcefully at the back of your eyes, standing in the foyer of the manor.

"What is this?" you hiss out, holding up a paper by your face.

'WAYNE SEEN WITH SELENA KYLE STARLET, GOTHAM PLAYBOY RETURNS', reads the headline, with a picture of the pair kissing on a staircase. Your heart feels as crumpled as the newspaper in your fist, lips trembling. "You feel like explaining?" you force out, hating the way the break in your voice echoes in the empty foyer. He looks down, guilty. "It wasn't anything, I swear-" he tries to defend, arms coming out to try and reach for you. You scoff, turning on your heel, lips wobbling as you hold back your sobs. "Don't give me that bullshit," you scoff, tears finally slipping loose. "You don't get to say anything, you don't deserve to."

you cover your face with your hands, fingers coming away with smeared make up. Alfred had quietly slipped away, expression solemn. "God, I really thought that we had something, Bruce." you cry softly. "Why?"

He looks at you softly, hands trembling. "I can explain, please, let me explain." His hands come up to make a soothing motion, gently approaching you like you're a wild animal. "It isn't what it looks like. We aren't together. I love you; you know that. She came onto me, I swear."

You roll your eyes, although they're blurry from tears. "That's what all the rich billionaires say." you say deprecatingly.

"Not me." he says firmly, eyes wavering with a tinge of fear, fingers itching for something to hold. For you. "We can work past this. We can work it out, I assure you. This tabloid isn’t true. It isn't as bad as it seems."

That snaps something in you, almost doubling over from the angst welling up in your chest. "Not a problem? Not as bad as it seems?" you whirl on him, letting him see the destruction written across your face. "You humiliated me!" you scream, hand clutching your chest, other waving the paper. "Our relationship? Did it mean anything? Even if you're telling the truth, the problem is that half of Gotham pities me now. Did you not even have the decency to tell me before we went out? Just paraded me around while everyone else knew about our relationship trouble but me? How is that fair, Bruce?" you cry, feet feeling weak in your heels. "You know, I really thought I came to see a new side of you. I thought I knew all of you. My friends told me that I should be careful, that you were a skirt chaser. But no. I trusted you, Bruce." you say, voice rising. "I trusted you!"

His face shatters, grimacing at your cries.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." he says, voice thick. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Sorry doesn't fix this!" you cry, relieving the paper from your grip and it flutters to the ground. "It doesn’t fix us." you say weakly. "Did I…did I even mean anything? Or was I just another girl to string along?"

"No." he says firmly, taking a step towards you. "You weren't just another girl. you were my everything, you are my everything. I never meant to hurt you."

you shrug, tears falling down your face. "I'm a laughingstock." you cry softly, defeated. your fingers itch for your phone, to check the news, but you knew nothing good would come from scrolling the gossip columns. "I've got half of my father's board at my feet trying to get control through shareholder stocks. The other half were the elites mad I had taken you off the market," you jab a finger at him. "And now I'm nothing more than a floozy in the eyes of the public. I’m going to lose the respect I fought so hard for."

you run your fingers through your hair, stressed. Tears continue to stream down your face, heart rabbiting in stress. "I've never been this humiliated in my life." you weakly choke out.

He closes the distance, palms coming to cradle your face with thumbs stroking your cheeks. "I can fix this." he says desperately. you just shake your head, resigned and overwhelmed. You had always thought how special Bruce was, down to his calloused palms that were so different from every other highbrow man you had dated. "You still cheated." you grit out, eyes coming to meet his blue ones. Even though you wanted to relax so badly into his hold, to pretend like it had all been a dream and let him whisk you away into the bedroom, you pulled away.

you could see the flicker of pain that rippled across his body at your rejection, and the sight made your heart twist. "I need space." you say shakily, adrenaline making your world spin and chest tight. "Tell Alfred I'm going home."

The words feel heavy in your throat and even heavier when you see the panic in his eyes.

"Love, please don't-"

You hold a hand up to stop him.

"No. you, ‘please don't’." you say softly, head tilting down to the floor. "Just…don't. I need to find Alfred." you say as you follow the direction the elderly butler left in. Bruce can't do anything, rooted to the spot as he watches you hurry away. His body feels cold, and if he didn't know better, he'd say that this is what dying must feel like.

The old man is kind when you find him, and you can't help but cry on his shoulder when you break in front of him. He takes you out the kitchen door to the side, leading you to the car and opening the door silently. "I'm assuming you'd like some space for now, ma'am?" he says gently, not commenting on the tears and smeared makeup across your skin. you nod, and he closes the door after squeezing your shoulder comfortingly.

The ride back to your place is cold, hardly ever riding in the Wayne car without the warm presence of Bruce beside you. Your forehead presses against the window, staring out of it blankly. Staring out at the city that gossiped all about you now for sure, who'd eat you up in the coming months if you faltered. That was just the kind of place that Gotham is, especially in the elite circles.

When you click your phone back on, you make a conscious effort to resist the urge to respond to Bruce's string of frantic messages. Instead, your fingers trail over to the news tab, even though you know you shouldn't. Your face and Bruce's fill the pages, stages of your relationship depicted, all the way up to the photo the reporter snapped tonight. Your eyes are wide, lips parted in surprise. scrolling further down you encounter the fateful kiss and your heart clenches, mouth going dry. It was hard to believe that it was the same Bruce who kissed you so sweetly at night when he dropped you home or sent flowers to your office when work got hard.

It got so hard in fact, that all you could do was shut off the phone screen before any more tears could distort the colours on the screen. It flashes once with an incoming message from Bruce.

"Please let me fix this."

You shake your head to yourself, heart bleeding. Gotham was going to eat you alive. Despite your control your fingers typing out a message before backspacing.

"You shouldn't have broken us in the first place." remained unsent, as Alfred drove you to back to Old Gotham. Tears still dripped down the bridge of your nose, and you wished, desperately hoped, that the shame wouldn't follow you under the covers of your bed tonight.

The sheets that despite it all, you would still imagine to be Bruce's.

377 notes · View notes