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fushitoru · 3 months ago

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chapter 9: the embers a bridgerton au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, heir to a dukedom mr. satoru gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

genre/warnings ⸺ enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, suggestive, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly, all they do is bicker 💀, some historical inaccuracies, mentions of sex work

chapter summary ⸺ sukuna takes you on an excurion into town at night, where you both meet a stranger that gives you illustrative insight into gojo. on the other hand, satoru has to suffer his best friend's most terrible plan as of date (10k).

a/n MWAHAHAHA i'll see you at the end :) thank you for my beta readers @/angelina7890, @/purplegemadventures, @/hellowoolf, and @/sinn-clair for helping me salvage bridgerton!gojo efknwekfnw

also note that the warnings have been updated.

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general masterlist | series masterlist

Dearest Reader,

It seems that the Gojo name has once again stirred the waters of the ton—quite literally, this time. If you were not present at Surrey Park, then you have surely missed a sight that will be etched in the minds (and no doubt dreams) of many a young lady for weeks to come.

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

The rhythmic sound of the carriage wheels against the dirt road filled the silence as you sat between Choso and Sukuna, gazing out of the small window. The events of Surrey Park, particularly the lake incident, replayed in your mind with an insistence that made your temples throb. You clenched your hands tightly in your lap, as if the sheer tension in your knuckles could chase away the image of Lord Gojo, drenched and smirking as though he hadn’t just caused your heart to stutter in ways you loathed to admit.

“What a ridiculous display,” Sukuna muttered, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the seat, his tone conveying pure disapproval. “That man cannot seem to go a day without making a spectacle of himself. I wonder if he has any sense of propriety at all.”

You tore your gaze from the window, startled from your reverie. “I hardly think it was his intention to fall into the lake,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction. The memory of Gojo's intense gaze before he walked away was still fresh, leaving you both flustered and confused.

Sukuna raised a brow, a sardonic smile tugging at his lips. “Intentional or not, it is yet another reason why I cannot fathom what you—or anyone, for that matter—ever saw in him.”

You could not help but think Sukuna’s dismay was not deserved; after all, the man had fallen into the lake in defense of you. Thus, it was not as easy for you to color it obscene and vulgar as easily as Sukuna.

“Sukuna,” Choso interrupted with a stern look, though his tone was mild. “Let us not belabor the point. What matters is that our sister is no longer tethered to that man. Speaking of which”—he turned to you, his expression softening—“how fares your progress with Duke Nanami? Has he hinted at a proposal?”

You hesitated, shifting uncomfortably under your eldest brother’s watchful gaze. “He is... cordial and kind,” you replied after a pause, your voice measured. “Our conversations are pleasant, and he is undoubtedly a man of good character.”

Choso frowned slightly, clearly unsatisfied with your tepid response. “But is he inclined to offer for you?”

“I suppose,” you murmured, clasping your hands tighter in your lap. The truth, however, was far from what you conveyed. Despite Nanami's quiet, unwavering presence, your thoughts seemed to stray perpetually toward another—toward Lord Gojo, who could unsettle and vex you in equal measure with a single look or word. The mere memory of him emerging from the lake, every detail exaggerated by the sunlight, made your heart flutter treacherously.

Sukuna’s sharp eyes darted toward you, narrowing slightly as he leaned forward. “You suppose?” he repeated, his tone skeptical. “You are not typically this indecisive, Sister. Tell me, where exactly does your mind wander?”

You stiffened, heat creeping up your neck as you struggled to mask your turmoil. “I am simply... weighing my options,” you replied carefully, returning your gaze to the window to avoid his probing stare.

For a moment, Sukuna studied you in silence, his lips pursed in thought. But he said nothing more as the carriage finally pulled into the familiar drive of your family’s estate.

Once the carriage halted and Choso helped you alight, the three of you headed into the Itadori manor. However, as soon as you crossed the threshold, Sukuna’s hand lightly touched your elbow, indicating that you should linger behind. As Choso continued on to go to his study and fell out of earshot, you turned to him, a questioning look on your face.

“Sister,” he began, his voice low but not unkind. “Would you care to join me on an outing to town this evening? I have... matters to attend to, and I thought you might find it of interest.”

“An outing?” you asked, turning to him with curiosity. “What kind of matters?”

Sukuna’s smirk widened, his expression almost conspiratorial. “Let us call it a meeting of minds. A discussion on the state of affairs, if you will.”

Your heart quickened with excitement at the prospect. If you recall correctly, you have no plans of balls or any outings with the tons tonight, and you longed to engage with something outside of the season’s mundane practices ever since Gojo had similarly taken you into town. Sukuna had been long gone, and this ritual of yours—sneaking into town to experience political meetings—you had long been deprived of.

“I would be delighted,” you replied, unable to keep the enthusiasm from your voice.

“Good,” Sukuna said, a rare note of approval in his tone as he squeezed your arm lightly. “Then prepare yourself for something far more stimulating than insipid dances and idle chatter.”

The moon’s light shone over the two cloaked figures that were you and Sukuna. As the both of you sneaked towards an apparent meeting point that Sukuna had pre-established, your heart raced—not from fear, but from the thrill of doing something forbidden.

The brisk air bit at your cheeks as the sound of the faint crunch of gravel accompanied you both while creeping across the street.

"Keep up," Sukuna whispered, casting a glance over his shoulder. His expression held that mischievous glint you had come to recognize all too well, as though he relished dragging you into his escapades.

“I am keeping up,” you shot back, pulling your hood further over your face. “I only hope you know what you’re doing.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and unbothered. “Always.”

Soon enough, you spotted a modest carriage tucked behind a grove of trees, its lanterns dimmed to avoid attention. A figure stood waiting beside it, cloaked and hooded, though far more relaxed than someone trying to avoid detection. Sukuna approached the man with an ease that spoke of familiarity, slapping him on the shoulder as though they were old friends.

“Toji,” Sukuna greeted, his voice carrying a note of camaraderie.

“Toji?” you repeated under your breath, squinting your eyes as you studied the man. He was broad-shouldered, with an air of roughness about him that immediately set him apart from the polished gentlemen of the ton. His sharp eyes flicked to you briefly before returning to Sukuna, clearly unimpressed by the effort you’d gone through to remain inconspicuous.

“This the sister you’ve been talking about?” Toji asked, his tone casual as he nodded in your direction.

“Indeed,” Sukuna replied, smiling as he gestured toward you. “Miss Itadori, meet Toji Fushiguro, a man of many talents.”

“Many talents?” you echoed, shooting Sukuna a skeptical look. “And which talents are we referring to, exactly?”

Toji let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “She’s got a sharp tongue, your sister. I like her.”

You narrowed your eyes at the stranger, unsure whether to feel flattered or annoyed, but Sukuna merely grinned, ushering you toward the carriage. “Come on, we’ve got places to be.”

The interior of the carriage was cramped, but warm, the faint scent of leather and smoke lingering in the air. Toji climbed in after you, settling into the opposite seat with the practiced ease of someone who’d spent many nights in carriages like this one. Sukuna took his place beside you, leaning back as though this were the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re very familiar with him,” you remarked to Sukuna, your tone edged with suspicion. “I’d like to know why.”

Toji answered for him, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Your brother and I go back. He’s got a knack for finding himself in interesting situations, and I’ve got a knack for getting him out of them.”

“Is that so?” you said, arching a brow amusedly at Sukuna. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Sukuna shrugged, entirely unbothered. “Toji’s got connections. And besides, Sister, you’ll be thanking me soon enough for dragging you into this.”

But you were not one to be fooled. You narrowed your eyes, prying deeper into your brother’s words. “What type of connections?”

He sighs, shaking his head and complaining, “Ah! Enough of that. Aren’t you curious as to where we’re going?”

Your skepticism could not be quelled with a dismissive remark, but you waved it aside anyway, acquiescing. “Fine, but do not think I will rest on the matter.”

Toji, who had been silent thus far, chuckled quietly, his sharp gaze flickering between you and Sukuna. “She’s got your measure, Sukuna. You’re not squirming out of this one so easily.”

“Never does,” Sukuna muttered under his breath before changing tack. “Alright, alright. Since you’re so eager to discuss weighty matters, tell me this—are you familiar with Wollstonecraft’s latest work?”

Your brow furrowed as you tried to recall. “The Vindication? Of course, I’ve read it. Why?”

“Then you’ll have some context for what you’re about to hear,” Toji said. His voice was measured, but there was a weight to it that made you sit up a little straighter. “This isn’t just idle talk—it’s about education, equality, and liberty. Ideas that don’t sit well with those who benefit from keeping things as they are.”

Sukuna nodded, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “It’s more than philosophy, though. These people are living it. Fighting for it.”

Your pulse quickened as the conversation took a turn you hadn’t anticipated. You leaned forward slightly as you met Sukuna’s gaze. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” you began, your voice tinged with both curiosity and eagerness. “Wollstonecraft’s arguments are bold, yes, but they’re also deeply practical. Education as the foundation of equality—what could be more sensible? Yet, it threatens the very structure of society.”

Toji gave a low chuckle, his sharp gaze resting on you with renewed interest. “Well said. And what do you make of it, then? The notion that the world might be turned on its head by ideas like hers?”

Your lips curved into a small, wry smile. “I think the world could use a little turning on its head. Though, I imagine the aristocracy would sooner go to war than concede such ground.”

“That they would,” Sukuna agreed, his tone almost amused. “But it’s not just the aristocracy. The changes Wollstonecraft envisions—education for all, women stepping into the public sphere—these ideas challenge everyone who’s comfortable with the way things are.”

“Which is precisely why they’re so powerful,” you replied quickly, your excitement bubbling over. “People cling to the status quo out of fear, but fear is not insurmountable. Surely, with the right voices, the right leaders, minds could be swayed.”

Toji smiled faintly, his expression unreadable. “Optimistic, aren’t you? Most would say such change requires more than just words. Sacrifices must be made.”

“I’m not naïve, Mr. Fushiguro,” you said, straightening your posture. “I understand that revolutions—whether in thought or action—carry a cost. But is that not the mark of true progress? To be willing to bear the burden for a better future?”

Sukuna exchanged a glance with Toji, the latter’s smirk deepening. “She’s quite the firebrand, isn’t she?” Toji remarked.

“She always has been,” Sukuna replied with a shrug, though the faintest hint of pride flickered in his tone. “Keeps me on my toes.”

You ignored their banter, your thoughts racing ahead to what lay in store. “This meeting,” you pressed, unable to keep the excitement from your voice, “who will be there? What will be discussed?”

Sukuna held up a hand to forestall your questions. “Patience. You’ll hear it all soon enough. But I’ll tell you this much—it’s not just talk. These people are doing what others only dream of.”

Toji nodded, his expression growing somber. “There are risks, of course. The kind of risks that come with challenging the very fabric of society.”

You nodded, your resolve solidifying. “I’m not afraid of risk. Ideas like these are worth fighting for.”

Toji studied you for a long moment, his gaze heavy with unspoken thoughts. Finally, he leaned back and crossed his arms. “You might just survive this night, after all.”

The carriage hit a slight bump in the road, jostling all of you, but it did little to break the energy that now thrummed in the small space. The shadows outside grew longer as the journey continued, but your mind was alight with thoughts of what awaited—a world of bold ideas and uncertain promises, one you were eager to step into.

The rest of the ride was quiet, save for the occasional jostling of the carriage over uneven terrain. When you finally arrived, Toji stepped out first, scanning the area before motioning for the two of you to follow. You found yourself in what appeared to be a modest meeting hall, the murmur of voices already audible from within.

Toji pushed open the door, revealing a room filled with a mix of people—some finely dressed, others in simpler attire, all seated in clusters, engaged in quiet but intense discussion. It was clear you had entered a space where class distinctions mattered little, united by a common cause.

“This,” Toji said, his voice low but firm, “is where the real work happens. You wanted to see it, didn’t you?”

You glanced at Sukuna, who gave you a reassuring nod, and then back at Toji. “Lead the way,” you said, your curiosity outweighing your reservations.

The smell of pipe smoke wafted through the air, accompanying the noise of friendly claps on backs, low murmur of conversation, the scrape of chairs against the floor, and a warped sort of revelry that was present in the room. The place was almost like a tavern, and as you, your brother, and Toji made your way through the wooden tables filled with people, ongoers showed familiarity with Sukuna. The contrast with how he conducted himself here and the demeanor he adopted at balls was almost comical; whereas ladies of the ton would get an uncongenial countenance, Sukuna was even grunting in response to some of the greetings he received. It was truly a marvel to perceive, indeed.

While Toji directed you both towards an empty table for the sake of your privacy, you could hear tidbits of conversations, murmurs, and bold declarations alike surrounding you.

“Evening, Sukuna,” a burly man called out, raising his glass in acknowledgment. Sukuna responded with a grunt and a nod, his lips twitching in what might have been a hint of a smile.

As Toji directed you to an empty table near the back of the room, your ears caught snippets of conversation from the surrounding tables.

“I find Burke’s assertions about women rather daft,” a woman sniffed, her voice tinged with disdain. “To claim that their sensibilities preclude them from education—it’s an insult, not an argument.”

A man seated beside her chuckled, shaking his head. “Indeed. The irony is that these so-called rational men are the ones most ruled by their passions when challenged.”

At another table, a younger man spoke with fiery conviction. “It’s not just about reforming laws—it’s about changing the very way we think about liberty and who truly earns it.”

“And it’s not solely for the falsely-refined, immoral, and narcissistic rich; As Wollstonecraft mentioned, they are weak, artificial beings, spreading their corruption though the whole mass of society.”

You couldn’t help but smile faintly at the exchanges, the fervor and intellect on display so different from the superficial chatter of the ton. Toji and Sukuna, however, seemed unfazed, as though this kind of discourse was nothing new to them. You, on the other hand, were very excited; while Sukuna had taken you out on such excursions often, the extent of it was visiting restaurants in common clothes, and eating freshly baked bread and pastries. This was an entirely different scene, and every time someone echoed your thoughts—before, captive on your diary’s pages—out loud, your heart was set aflutter.

However, you were a bit wary about fully joining the discussion. While you were undeniably confident that you would be able to keep rapport with those debating, you weren’t fully aware of Toji’s position within the ton. Sukuna may have his trust, but you’d rather not risk joining in; after all, if Toji even were to spread the word about your scandalous…hobbies, Sukuna would not be entirely opposed to you leaving the season without finding a husband, as he’s made clear before.

Once seated, Toji leaned back in his chair, resting his elbows on the armrests as you and Sukuna followed suit.“Quite the crowd tonight,” he remarked, his voice low as his sharp eyes scanned the room. “Seems the common folk are growing bolder.”

Sukuna grinned, leaning back in his chair as though he were entirely at ease. “It’s about time, isn’t it?”

You settled into your seat, your hands resting lightly on the edge of the table as you absorbed the atmosphere. The snippets of conversation, the passionate speeches, the clinking of mugs—all of it painted a vivid picture of a world far removed from the ballrooms and drawing rooms you had grown accustomed to. And yet, there was something undeniably captivating about it.

“What do you think?” Sukuna asked, his tone teasing as he leaned closer to you. “Not quite the spectacle of a ball, but it has its charm, doesn’t it?”

You glanced at him, your lips curving into a faint smile. “It’s… different,” you admitted, your gaze returning to the dais where the speaker was now gesturing animatedly. “But perhaps that’s what makes it so compelling.”

As you turned, you now noticed that Toji was observing you thoughtfully and you tilted your head, giving him a questioning look, to which he spoke up, “Well,” his tone light but probing, “discussion aside. How has the glittering world of the ton treating you, Miss Itadori? I hear you’re the diamond of the season. Must be quite the... adventure.”

You offered him a polite, practiced smile. “It has been... illuminating,” you said delicately. “The season has certainly provided its share of experiences.”

“Ah, I see,” Toji drawled, leaning back in his chair and giving you a look that suggested he saw through your carefully crafted response. “Illuminating. That’s a word people use when they’re too polite to say what they really mean.”

Sukuna snorted, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “She’s being diplomatic, Toji. If you really want to know what she thinks, let me tell you—she’s been dodging proposals left and right while trying not to throttle certain lords.”

Your lips parted in indignation, but Sukuna held up a hand to stop you before you could protest. “Don’t deny it, sister. We both know I’m right.”

Toji chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Ah, now this is getting interesting. So, who’s the thorn in your side, then? Every diamond has one.”

You stiffened slightly but maintained your composed tone. “I wouldn’t say anyone is a thorn, per se. There have been... challenges, certainly, but nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Gojo,” Sukuna said bluntly, earning a glare from you. “The thorn is Gojo.”

Toji’s brows shot up. “Satoru Gojo? The golden boy himself? Well, that’s a surprise. What’s he done to earn your ire, Miss Itadori?”

You hesitated, unsure of how much to divulge, but Sukuna, ever the instigator, jumped in. “He courted her, dropped her, and now he’s lurking in the background like some lovesick pup.”

Toji let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Ah, that boy. Always knew he’d trip over his own arrogance one day.”

“Arrogance,” Sukuna muttered, “doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Toji smirked, swirling his glass thoughtfully. “Let me give you some advice, Miss Itadori. The one you hate, the one who gets under your skin, makes your blood boil? That’s usually the one worth keeping around.”

You scoffed, but it was half-hearted; you were intrigued. Straightening in your chair, you probed lightly, “And why, pray tell, would I want to keep someone who vexes me so terribly?”

“Because,” Toji said, leaning forward, his tone uncharacteristically serious, “the ones who challenge you are the ones who see you. Really see you. And from what I’ve heard, Gojo’s stuck around, hasn’t he? Defended you when it counted?”

You frowned, your mind flashing back to the lake incident, his swift intervention, the way he had looked at you—like you were the only person in the world. “That’s hardly enough to excuse his behavior,” you said, though your voice lacked its usual conviction.

Toji grinned knowingly. “Conflict like this doesn’t fizzle out quietly, Miss Itadori. Mark my words—this will blow up sooner or later. And when it does, when Gojo realizes he’s been an idiot and comes crawling back, what are you going to do?”

Your breath hitched at the thought, and you quickly dismissed it with a wave of your hand. “He won’t. He’s far too stubborn for that.”

“Maybe,” Toji conceded with a shrug, though his expression suggested otherwise. “But if he does, you’d better know what you want, because boys like Gojo don’t grovel often.”

Sukuna huffed, crossing his arms. “Well, I’d rather she find someone who isn’t an arrogant prick.”

“Maybe,” Toji said again, his tone calm but firm. “But sometimes it’s the arrogant pricks who surprise you the most.”

You shook your head, unwilling to entertain the notion any further. “This is all highly speculative and entirely unnecessary. Lord Gojo and I are... nothing.”

Toji’s words hung in the air, and though you tried to focus on the speaker at the front of the room, the uneasy stirring in your chest remained. Sukuna’s watchful gaze burned into the side of your face, and after a long moment of silence, you turned back to Toji, unable to resist asking the question that had been gnawing at you.

“How is it,” you began cautiously, your tone laced with both curiosity and a hint of suspicion, “that you seem to know Lord Gojo so well?”

Toji leaned back in his chair, his lips quirking in an almost imperceptible smirk. Sukuna let out a low chuckle, crossing his arms as he observed the exchange, clearly entertained. You really wanted to shoot a dirty glare at both of them, but you persisted, your gaze insistently honing on Toji.

“What makes you think I know him?” Toji asked, his voice carrying that frustratingly unhurried cadence that suggested he was enjoying your discomfort.

You narrowed your eyes, unwilling to let him deflect. “Because you speak of him with far more familiarity than most. And because you called him an ‘arrogant prick’ with such conviction that it could only come from experience.”

Toji laughed at that, a low, amused sound that rumbled from his chest. “Sharp as ever,” he remarked, glancing briefly at Sukuna, who rolled his eyes. “Fine, if you must know—I’ve known the boy since he was barely out of leading strings. My father did lots of business with his, as almost all families of the nobility do business with the Gojo dukedom. And for a time, I was … well, let’s say I was observing the business practices of the family.”

You blinked, surprised by the revelation. “Oh? Anything of note?”

Toji shrugged, his expression now unreadable at the mention of his family. “Gojo and I… crossed paths more than a few times.” He then snorted, now shaking his head at what seemed a ridiculous memory. “The boy was only four and ten when he was attending those meetings with the rest of the noble families, while the rest of the men in that room were at least two and twenty.”

“Ah.” You didn’t exactly understand how to analyze this; while you’re no stranger to the fact that Gojo was conditioned for the title of duke since his childhood, courtesy of Mrs. Tanaka, you were fazed by it every time.

“And,” Toji snorts, continuing, “the child would be the most ridiculous sight. Sometimes it felt that he was so enamored by the sound of his own voice that he hardly cared what the meeting was about.” Toji smirked, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed as if reliving the absurdity of the memory. “He’d sit there, bold as brass, making ridiculous suggestions—most of which were promptly dismissed, mind you—but he always had this way of... commanding attention.”

You raised a brow, trying to picture a fourteen-year-old Gojo confidently holding court among seasoned men of business and nobility. The image was surprisingly easy to conjure. “And no one thought to put him in his place?”

Toji let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, they tried. Believe me, they tried. But the boy’s wit was sharper than most men in that room. Even when he was wrong—and he often was—he’d somehow twist the conversation to make it seem like he was the only one making sense. Drove them mad.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought, though it was accompanied by a pang of irritation. Of course, Gojo had been insufferable even as a boy.

“He sounds as impossible then as he is now,” you muttered, earning a chuckle from Sukuna.

Toji tilted his head, a glint of something more serious in his eyes now. “Impossible, yes. But also... determined. Even back then, you could tell he had a weight on his shoulders. He wanted to prove something—to himself, to his family, to everyone in that room. I’d wager that’s still true.”

You frowned, mulling over his words. “And what exactly does he have to prove? He’s already a duke-to-be, with wealth, power, and influence beyond what most could dream of.”

Toji regarded you for a moment, his gaze steady. “Sometimes, those with the most are the ones who feel they have the most to lose. And the most to prove.”

Your chest tightened at the implication, but you quickly shoved the thought aside. “Well,” you said, forcing a lightness into your tone, “it seems Lord Gojo has always been consistent in his… unique qualities.”

Toji’s smirk returned, though there was a knowing edge to it. “That he has. But don’t mistake consistency for simplicity. That boy is a maze, and only a fool would think they’ve figured him out.”

You opened your mouth to respond but were interrupted by Sukuna’s low, dry voice. “Why are we wasting breath on that prick? We’re here for a reason, aren’t we?”

Toji laughed again, a deep, unbothered sound, and gestured for you both to follow him deeper into the meeting hall. “Fair enough. Let’s see if we can find you two a seat before you start debating the virtues—or lack thereof—of Lord Satoru Gojo.”

The sun was low on the horizon, casting the sky in a fiery orange glow as the two men rode side by side along the quiet trails bordering the Gojo estate. The rhythmic clopping of hooves on the dirt path filled the silence, punctuated by the occasional snort or whinny from their steeds. Satoru’s white steed carried him with its usual grace, while Geto’s dark horse moved with a steady, confident gait.

It was indeed a rare moment of calm. Before the season started, these silences would undoubtedly be filled with Geto’s mentions of gossip and business deals, in which investment in the Americas ended up being a damp squib. However, it seems that with the season has come Geto’s new target: his best friend himself, Satoru. And Satoru knew that this moment of calm was before the storm: Geto hopping on his arse.

And indeed, Geto, ever the opportunist, was not one to let peace linger for too long. His lips quirked into a smirk as he glanced sideways at his lifelong friend.

“So,” Geto began, his tone far too casual to be innocent, “why’d you defend her yesterday?”

Satoru groans inwardly; ever since that night of the ball after the Gojo house party, Suguru had been observing him amusedly. It even seemed that Nanami was taking interest in Satoru’s recent affairs; every conversation at White’s had seemed like Kento and Suguru were in collusion together, and it made Satoru very wary. However, outwardly, he continued, his gaze fixed ahead. “Who?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

Geto snorted. “Don’t play coy with me, Satoru. You know exactly who I mean—Miss Itadori. The lady you so gallantly saved from a rather damp fate.”

Satoru shrugged, leaning slightly forward in his saddle. He would be the air of nonchalance if Suguru didn’t know the subtle signs: his jaw clenching and his posture a bit too tight. “She was being pushed into a lake. Anyone would’ve done the same.”

“Ah,” Suguru drawled, his smirk widening. “Anyone. Of course. But it wasn’t just anyone, was it? It was you.”

“I was simply nearby,” Satoru replied coolly, though his grip on the reins tightened, the leather creaking faintly under his fingers.

Suguru let out a hum, as though he were considering his next move in a chess match. “Nearby? Satoru, you could’ve been halfway across the field, and you’d still have found some excuse to swoop in. It’s rather unlike you to involve yourself in such... trivial matters.”

Satoru’s jaw clenched briefly, but he said nothing.

“You stopped courting her, didn’t you?” Geto pressed, his tone light but with a sharp edge, something almost teasing yet with something to prove. “And yet, here you are, defending her honor like a knight in shining armor. I can’t imagine how she feels about all this... conflicting behavior.”

Satoru scoffed, finally cutting a glance at his friend. “I doubt she thinks of it at all.”

“Hmm,” Geto mused, humming prolongedly. His voice was dripping with skepticism as he drawled, “I doubt that.”

“I do not see how that is my issue,” Satoru responds bluntly, quelling the irritation inside him at being probed so…closely like this.

To Satoru’s reprieve, Geto had no immediate response. The two rode in silence for a moment, the quiet broken only by the rustling of leaves and the soft sounds of their horses’ hooves. Suguru, however, was far from finished, and Satoru felt that he was going to burst a vein.

“For someone who has the ton at his feet—every mama scheming, every daughter swooning—you sure are paying a lot of attention to one particular lady,” he said, leaning back slightly in his saddle. “A lady you supposedly have no interest in.”

This was enough. “Drop it, Geto,” Gojo said, his tone low and warning.

But Suguru wouldn’t have earned the title of being Satoru’s closest friend—and now it seemed, his greatest enemy—without crossing his boundaries further, pushing them in, and pulling at his strings. He wasn’t fettered in the least. He tilted his head, a glint of amusement in his dark eyes. “You know, it’s almost as if—dare I say it—you’re catching feelings.”

The words hit Gojo with the force of a thrown gauntlet, and for a moment, it felt like the air had been knocked clean out of his lungs. His fingers tightened around the reins instinctively, the leather biting into his gloves as his horse came to an abrupt halt. His pulse spiked, not from exertion but from something he refused to name. It spread through him like wildfire—hot, uncontrollable, and unwelcome.

Catch feelings?

At some point, Satoru was afraid he had. Holding your unconscious body in his arms and foolishly pretending to be your husband in some childish attempt to play house—but no, Satoru does not have space for a mere thing like feelings. No, more like mere infatuation that he was sure would have died out by ending your courtship.

But when he had been replacing the flowers by your bedside for the nth time, gazing upon your unconscious form once more, he had felt a sort of panic and lack of control. An unbidden feeling bubbled up inside of him, one that he quickly grew to realize, in the days leading up to the house party and you being roused from your state, that it was dangerous.

It’s an idea he’s instilled in himself since he was just a youth, and it’s a law he follows. Love and duty mustn’t cross paths; the covenant of marriage was a duty, a means to uphold the dukedom and his family’s legacy. To cross it with something like mere infatuation over how your eyes widened whenever Satoru said something outrageous, the traces of the smile you contained talking to other foolish suitors, the feel of your surprise when he walked closer to your chair, how dangerous it was for him to be alone with you in the library at night…it would certainly destroy him and the truths that he, Satoru Gojo, based his life upon.

His mind raced to rationalize, to shove the notion of feelings, something deeper than infatuation and a mere fancy, into some dark corner where it could wither and die. What nonsense. It wasn’t feelings. It couldn’t be. It was...what? Irritation? Protectiveness? The natural response of any honorable man when a lady’s dignity was insulted?

Yet, the memory of you standing by the lake crept unbidden into his mind—your face caught between fury and disbelief, the sunlight glinting off the strands of your hair that had escaped their meticulous arrangement.

And that damnable dress—how it had dared to hint at the curves he had so traced uncountable times his dreams with his hands, with his tongue—

He could still hear your biting words, sharp and unrelenting, even as they softened into something more vulnerable when no one else could hear.

His stomach twisted. No.

His voice was clipped as he snapped at Geto, desperate to redirect the conversation. “You’re starting to pry into matters that don’t concern you.”

But Geto’s smirk didn’t falter, and Gojo hated him for it. It was as if his oldest friend could see every crack forming in his carefully constructed facade, every thin thread of composure threatening to unravel.

“You could make a fine living consulting mamas on the ton’s gossip, you know,” Gojo continued, the words escaping him with uncharacteristic sharpness. “Perhaps even advising them on matchmaking strategies. Should I make introductions for you?”

The deflection was weak, and he knew it. His heart was still racing, his chest tight as if the very idea Geto had planted was a parasite sinking its teeth into his carefully guarded resolve.

Feelings. For you.

Impossible.

And yet, as Geto’s smirk grew wider, his eyes alight with amusement, Gojo realized with a sinking dread that he wasn’t entirely sure anymore.

Geto grinned, unbothered by the sharpness in his friend’s words, and appeared ignorant of the visceral reaction Gojo just had to the notion. “Oh, I don’t need introductions. I’ve already got your whole life figured out, Satoru.”

Gojo rolled his eyes, nudging his horse forward again. “She’s not anything special to me. That’s all there is to it.”

The silence that followed Geto’s pointed observation stretched longer than Gojo would have liked. It hung heavy in the cool evening air, punctuated only by the occasional snort of their horses and the crunch of hooves on gravel. Gojo didn’t dare look at his friend, his jaw clenched tightly as his mind raced. Catch feelings. The words echoed, taunting him as if Geto had struck a nerve he hadn’t even realized was exposed.

Gojo swallowed hard, eyes fixated blankly on the trees in the surrounding scenery, silent as his usual sharp wit suddenly dulled. His silence wasn’t the confident kind that usually unsettled others—it was uneasy, charged, the kind that gave too much away. He shifted in the saddle, his posture stiff, betraying the internal battle raging within him.

But Geto noticed. He always noticed.

And when Gojo finally glanced sideways at him, Geto’s expression had transformed. His dark eyes sparkled with a glint of pure mischief, his lips curving into a grin that promised trouble. It was as though he had just uncovered a hidden treasure—Gojo’s discomfort, his tells, his unwillingness to admit what they both knew.

“Oh,” Geto said, dragging the word out like a cat savoring the moment before pouncing on a mouse. His grin widened, a wicked gleam overtaking his features. “Oh, this is rich.”

Gojo scowled, his face flushing despite himself. “What now?” he snapped, though his voice lacked its usual commanding edge.

Geto didn’t answer immediately, his gaze sweeping over his friend with an almost theatrical sense of revelation. He leaned slightly forward in his saddle, the reins in one hand as his other gestured toward Gojo as if presenting him to an invisible audience.

“I’ve got it,” Geto said, his tone deceptively casual, though the glint in his eyes betrayed the mischief bubbling beneath. “If she’s not anything special, as you’ve so eloquently put it, then we can visit the brothel tonight. Right?”

Gojo’s head snapped toward him, his jaw tightening further, but before he could respond, Geto continued, his voice laced with false innocence. “Think about it—a little distraction, a reset, if you will. It’ll clear everything up for you, including how you’re feeling.”

The silence that followed wasn’t simply quiet—it was a palpable stillness, thick with tension. Geto’s grin only grew as he watched Gojo’s reaction—or lack thereof. His friend had frozen, the reins slack in his hands as he stared straight ahead, his profile bathed in the amber glow of the setting sun.

“What’s the matter?” Geto pressed, his voice practically dripping with faux innocence. “You’re not hesitating, are you? After all, if she means nothing to you, there’s no reason not to go.”

Gojo hesitated for a fraction of a second too long, and Geto pounced on it.

“You’ve got something to prove, don’t you?” he teased, leaning slightly toward Gojo. “Come now, Satoru. Let’s see just how unaffected you truly are.”

And then, like a man trying to prove something—to himself, to his friend, to the world—Gojo finally spoke, his tone clipped, almost defiant. “Fine.”

But Geto wasn’t fooled, and Gojo knew it. He could feel the weight of his friend’s amusement, his sharp gaze cutting through every layer of pretense Gojo had built around himself. And for the first time in a long while, Gojo felt like he was losing control of the narrative.

Geto’s grin widened, triumphant. “Good. Let’s make an evening of it.”

The carriage ride was tense, at least for one of its occupants. Gojo sat stiffly on one of the plush seats, his legs stretched out in front of him, though his right knee bounced incessantly—a restless, nervous tick that betrayed the calm expression he worked hard to maintain. His hands gripped the edge of the seat, his fingers curling into the fabric as he stared out of the window, his pale blue eyes unfocused.

“This,” Satoru finally said, his voice cutting through the heavy silence like a knife, “is a truly foolish idea.”

Across from him, Geto reclined with the ease of a man completely at peace with his choices, one arm slung casually over the back of the seat. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Then why are you here, oh wise one?”

Satoru shot him a flat look, though the movement was stiff, lacking his usual flair. “Because you said so. And because if I didn’t, you’d never let me hear the end of it.”

Geto chuckled, tipping his head back against the carriage wall. “Indulging your closest friend for once in your life—what a burden.” He then sighed, as if truly wounded and continued to lament, “You’ve never once gone with me—or rather, anyone—for an excursion to the establishment.”

Satoru didn’t dignify that with a response, his gaze flickering back out the window. The city rolled by in a blur of dim lantern light and shadowed alleys, but he barely registered it. The air in the carriage felt stifling, pressing down on him despite the open window beside him. His jaw clenched as his thoughts raced, looping over the same nagging feeling that had been gnawing at him since Geto suggested this ridiculous outing.

“I don’t even go to brothels,” Satoru muttered, almost to himself. This was truly a foolish idea.

Geto hummed amusedly, crossing his arms and leaning back. “So you’ve said. But everyone indulges now and again, even you.”

Satoru turned his head sharply to glare at him. “It’s not a fancy of mine.”

Geto leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as he grinned. “Not your fancy? What, women? Or fun in general?”

“Brothels,” Satoru snapped, though the edge in his voice lacked conviction. “They’re… I don’t know, pointless. The whole idea is dunce-like. Superficial company cannot satisfy me. I find the banter found in of these establishments lacking conviction, and if I wanted such artificial banter, I would have found it in the balls of the ton. I have never found engaging conversation with any of the ladies of the ton,” except for you, “and I daresay it would not be an oversight to observe that I would not get the company I desire at a brothel.”

“And yet here you are,” Geto quipped, gesturing grandly to the carriage they occupied.

Satoru sighed heavily, his leg bouncing more insistently now. It seemed as if the foolishness of this idea had cast a cloud over his heart, never truly leaving him and permeating him in a sense of anxiousness, as if something was truly amiss. “Just this once. I fear that you may never stop troubling me if I do not.”

“As if I’d believe that.” Geto laughed, leaning back again, clearly enjoying his friend’s discomfort.

When the carriage finally came to a halt, Satoru felt a sinking sense of dread settle in his chest. He stepped down with an unusual stiffness, his body tense and his movements robotic, as though he were forcing himself to go through the motions. The chill of the evening air hit him, but it did little to ease the heat creeping up the back of his neck.

Geto followed close behind, his hand coming down heavily on Satoru’s shoulder in a gesture that was equal parts encouragement and teasing. “Relax, Satoru. It’ll be fun,” he said, his tone almost sing-song as he gestured toward the entrance of the establishment ahead.

Satoru gave him a tight-lipped smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sure,” he replied dryly, though the tension in his shoulders made it clear that he was anything but.

As Geto led the way, Satoru lingered a step behind, his feet dragging just enough to make his reluctance palpable. He couldn’t shake the gnawing sense of unease, the quiet voice in the back of his mind telling him that this was a mistake. And yet, here he was—following Geto into the lion’s den, his heart pounding with a mix of dread and something else he couldn’t quite name.

Suguru and Satoru’s footsteps resound on the wooden floorboards. Feminine perfume wafts through the air, but Satoru finds it a bit too strong. Unbidden, the memory and trace of your scent of sandalwood flashes through his mind, but before he can linger on the memory of your scent got stronger the closer his nose inched to the delicate arch of your neck, Suguru stops in front of him, talking to a woman at the counter.

As if second nature to Geto, Suguru flirts with the madam in charge of the finances, but to Satoru, it goes in through one ear and out the other. He’s too busy observing the tacky decorations and abundance of flowers that seem to surround the place and the halls he can peer into. And there are women.

They crowd by, some loitering by their doors and peering at the pair that just walked in. They giggle to each other in groups, no doubt wishing that Geto may choose them today, but Satoru knows that it would not be the case, for he hears Suguru murmur something along the lines of the usual girls. While some of them are enraptured by Geto, there are just so many eyes on him.

He’s undoubtedly someone they haven’t seen before; he doesn’t look too young, one that would end the whole session too early. Gojo feels eyes on him, salaciously trailing up his body, but he is unfazed by it. It is rather the prospect of being in a room alone, of having to touch or being touched that has, for some reason, him nauseous for a reason he is yet to figure out. So he attributes it to the waste of coin, for he is sure not to take any enjoyment.

“Satoru, move along this way,” Geto waves him into the hallway he’s walking towards, now that he has sorted out the details with the madam. Begrudgingly—but not before running a hand down his face in exasperation—Satoru follows. It’s almost amusing how whoever Geto gazes upon seems to faint, his siren eyes carrying an allure to them that even makes these ladies shy. Satoru, on the other hand, keeps his gaze trained on the ceiling and traces the detail and design of the crown molding.

When it appears that Geto has finally found the room he intended for, he opens the door and walks into it.

The atmosphere inside the room was surprisingly plush, though it carried the same overpowering floral scent as the rest of the establishment. A low-burning lantern cast a warm, flickering light over the deep reds and golds of the furnishings, creating an almost intimate glow.

Suguru strode in first, his posture relaxed and his expression bordering on smug. He let out a low whistle as he surveyed the room. “Nice, isn’t it? I always tell them to reserve the best for me.”

Satoru followed reluctantly, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. He barely glanced at the room’s opulence, his focus instead on staying as close to the door as possible without actually leaving. “I suppose it’s marginally better than the hallway,” he muttered, his tone as dry as ever.

Suguru smirked, unbothered by his friend’s sour mood. “Come on, Satoru, don’t sulk. We’re here to unwind.” He dropped onto the sofa with a contented sigh, stretching out his arms along the backrest. “You’re supposed to sit, you know.”

Satoru raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe instead. “I’m fine right here, thanks.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Suguru groaned, motioning toward the empty seat beside him. “Just sit down before you ruin the ambiance completely. I won’t tell anyone you’re enjoying yourself—promise.”

Reluctantly, Satoru peeled himself away from the door and took a seat at the far end of the sofa, as far from Suguru as the furniture allowed. He sank into the velvet sofa with all the enthusiasm of a man preparing for execution, his long legs stretched in front of him, his arms folded stiffly across his chest. He tried to laze back, be the appearance of equanimity, but inside he was anything but.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” Suguru teased, pouring two glasses of wine from a decanter on the side table. He slid one across the table toward Satoru, who eyed it skeptically before finally picking it up.

“This is still a waste of time,” Satoru muttered, swirling the wine in his glass but not drinking it. His gaze wandered toward the window, though the heavy drapes blocked any view of the outside.

Suguru leaned back against the sofa, crossing one leg over the other as he sipped his wine. “You say that, but you’re here, aren’t you? Deep down, you must’ve been at least a little curious.”

“Deep down,” Satoru said, casting Suguru a sideways glance, “I fear I may be losing what little sense I have simply by remaining in this room.”

Suguru laughed, a deep, rich sound that filled the room and echoed as if to haunt and taunt Satoru. “You’re impossible. But I’ll give it ten minutes. You’ll relax. You always do.”

Before Satoru could retort, there was a soft knock at the door. Suguru’s smirk widened, and he set his glass down, rising to answer it. “Ah, perfect timing.”

Satoru tensed, his fingers tightening around the stem of his glass. He leaned back slightly, watching as Suguru opened the door with all the confidence of a man who owned the place. When the door swung open, two women entered with an air of familiarity and charm, their laughter light as they greeted Suguru.

“Back so soon, Mr. Geto?” one of them purred, her hair bouncing with each step. Her gaze lingered on Suguru, enraptured as though she could see no one else. His friend has that effect on women, Satoru supposes. He’s definitely no stranger to it.

“As if he could stay away,” added the other, her blonde hair catching the warm light as she smiled, all charm and sweetness.

Suguru offered a roguish grin, gesturing broadly to the room as he drew his legs apart impossibly wider. He was truly the epitome of a man relaxed and in bliss. “Ladies, your wit does me a disservice. I couldn’t possibly keep myself from such delightful company.”

The two women giggled, each draping herself over Suguru’s shoulders with the familiarity of longtime favorites. Their laughter chimed softly, though Satoru barely heard it. He was too busy trying to reconcile the absurdity of this situation with his growing discomfort.

“And who’s this?” the blonde asked, her curious gaze flickering toward Satoru, who sat at the far end of the sofa. His unease must not have been apparent to anyone but Suguru, because in Gojo’s periphery, he saw the other girl in between him and Suguru turn her head in surprise, as if she truly hadn’t noticed him but definitely seemed to like what she saw. Soon, she was moving out of Geto’s space and inching herself closer next to Gojo’s seat on the chaise, but Satoru kept his eyes trained on Suguru, awaiting his response to the blonde.

“Oh, that?” Suguru quipped, waving a hand in his direction as though introducing an unruly pet. “That is Satoru, a dear friend of mine—and a woefully inexperienced one at that.”

Satoru shot him a withering glare but said nothing, his lips pressed into a smirk as if to mask his unease and instead show amusement, an air of nonchalance.

“Do be kind to him,” Suguru added with a knowing smirk. “He’s not accustomed to such pleasures as these.”

The other woman rose with a soft laugh, gliding across the chaise with practiced elegance. “Then I shall endeavor to make him feel at home.”’

As she settled beside Satoru, he felt a strange prickle of apprehension, a sense of something amiss. Then he turned his head, and his breath caught in his throat.

It was you.

Or at least, it felt like you. The resemblance was so striking it bordered on cruel—the shape of her face, the curve of her lips, the lashes framing her warm eyes. She even smiled like you, though this smile carried a polished charm that felt foreign, detached.

“Good heavens,” she murmured, her voice light and lilting. “You’re dreadfully tense, aren’t you? Let me help you with that.”

Her words might as well have been spoken in another language, for they barely reached him. Satoru was still staring, his mind spinning as the room seemed to shrink around him. She shifted closer, the scent of her perfume—a cloying blend of florals—filling the space between them. It made his stomach turn, but not because it was unpleasant. No, it was wrong. It wasn’t your scent.

The memory of sandalwood hit him like a punch to the chest, unbidden and consuming. The delicate trace of it, how it lingered faintly whenever you passed by, how it deepened when he leaned closer, just enough to catch it at the hollow of your throat—

Her touch drew him back abruptly. Her fingers skimmed lightly along his arm, trailing upward to rest against his chest. “You must relax, sir,” she tittered, her tone teasing but soothing in equal measure. “Let me ease your troubles. There’s no need to hold yourself so tightly.”

But Satoru barely felt the pressure of her hand. Instead, all he could feel was you—the ghost of your touch from the salacious dream he’d had not long ago, a dream that had plagued him since. You, standing in his room in nothing but your night shift, your figure outlined faintly by the moonlight filtering through the window. He remembered how his hands had reached for you in that dream, the warmth of your skin beneath his palms, the sound of your breath catching as he—

“Sir?” Her voice broke through the haze, soft and curious. Her brow furrowed slightly as she tilted her head to meet his gaze. “Are you unwell?”

He blinked, forcing himself to focus, though it felt like dragging his mind out of quicksand. His throat worked, but the words caught. “I’m fine,” he managed, though the stiffness in his tone betrayed him.

Across the room, Suguru observed the exchange with a smirk, his chin resting lazily on his hand. “You’ve got your work cut out for you, I’m afraid,” he drawled, his amusement clear. “The man’s wound tighter than a clock.”

The woman beside Satoru laughed softly, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “No matter,” she said brightly, her hand trailing further across his torso. “We’ve ways of loosening even the most stubborn. You ought to be at ease, my lord,” she teases, “I have no aim to bite you.”

But Satoru wasn’t paying attention. His mind was still back in that dream, with you. It was an image he couldn’t shake, no matter how much he tried. And as she leaned closer, her hand pressing lightly against his chest, his thoughts screamed louder than ever: What am I doing here?

The woman’s touch began to drift lower, her hands brushing over his hips, and Satoru’s entire body went rigid, as though struck by lightning. A peculiar kind of heat climbed up his neck—not the kind born of desire but something closer to panic.

His chest felt tight, his breath shallow. The air in the room seemed to shrink, pressing down on him from all sides. Her laughter, sweet and tinkling, rang in his ears, but it sounded muffled as if he were underwater. He couldn’t do this—not with her, not with anyone. Not when her face, her scent, and even her touch were so painfully wrong. It was truly uncanny, something that put Satoru too much at unease

He knew he must get out of there.

In one sharp motion, Satoru stood. The movement startled the woman, her hands falling away as she looked up at him with wide, confused eyes. Similar to when you both tripped at the stream, you looking up at him, your bosom close to his—

“Sir?” she asked, tilting her head, her voice laced with surprise.

Satoru offered a dazzling smirk, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes but was charming enough to serve its purpose. He gently took her hands in his, his fingers curling lightly around hers as he raised them to his lips. His kiss was featherlight, fleeting, and entirely calculated.

“My dear,” he began, his tone smooth as silk, though a faint tremor lay hidden beneath it, “while I deeply appreciate your gracious efforts, I am afraid I must take my leave. A rather urgent matter at home has just crossed my mind.”

She blinked, startled and unsure of what to say. “But—”

Satoru stepped back, his smirk widening as he released her hands with a flourish. “Do forgive my abrupt departure. You’ve been nothing short of delightful.” He inclined his head toward her in a courtly gesture, his gaze flicking briefly to Suguru, who was now watching him with one brow arched in amused disbelief.

“Geto,” Satoru said, his voice tight but steady, “it seems I must bid you adieu. Do enjoy yourself. You appear to be in good company.”

Suguru leaned back, his arms draped lazily over the back of the sofa, an almost predatory grin tugging at his lips. “You’re leaving already, Satoru? The night’s barely begun.”

“Oh, but the night is full of pressing demands. I fear I have just remembered a pending task in my ledgers expected to be resolved tomorrow” Satoru replied breezily, though his legs were already moving toward the door. “Another time, perhaps.”

Before Suguru could respond, Satoru slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him with an almost frantic speed. The sound of his boots echoed down the hallway as he strode quickly toward the exit, his pulse racing as though he were fleeing some great calamity.

By the time he stepped outside into the cool night air, his heart was pounding, and his chest felt like it might burst. He inhaled deeply, letting the chill fill his lungs as he tilted his head back to look at the sky. The stars above were cold and distant, but they steadied him.

“Good grief.”

As the door clicked shut behind Satoru, Geto’s smirk deepened, his gaze lingering on the spot where his friend had stood moments ago. The tension in Gojo’s shoulders, the too-tight smirk that barely concealed his panic—it had all been immensely entertaining. Geto couldn’t help but feel a flicker of satisfaction. For all his bluster and charm, Satoru Gojo was, at his core, so damn oblivious to the raging currents inside of him.

He sighs inwardly, now excited. He couldn’t wait for the theatrics that would occur soon, for his friend was a ticking time bomb—one to explode very soon.

He leaned back further into the sofa, stretching his arms along the backrest as he glanced at the two women beside him. The blonde was frowning slightly, clearly perplexed by Satoru’s abrupt departure, while the one that had approached Satoru was still staring at the door, her lips parted as if to call him back.

“Don’t fret, my darlings,” Geto drawled, his voice low and smooth as honey. He shifted slightly, letting his arm curl around the blonde’s shoulders, his hand resting lightly at the nape of her neck. “Our dear Lord Gojo is... a complicated man.”

The blonde huffed, crossing her arms in mock indignation. “He didn’t even stay long enough for a proper introduction. Was it something I said?”

“Not at all,” Geto assured her, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin. “He’s simply overwhelmed by beauty. I’m afraid he’s not accustomed to the kind of attention you so graciously bestowed upon him.”

The other woman’s pout melted into a soft laugh, her earlier confusion replaced by amusement. “Well, that is rather charming, in its own way.” Geto turns his eyes away from the blond to look at the other lady and has to bite his cheek to stop the laugh from coming in.

He truly did a good job of describing your features to the madam when requesting her.

“Indeed,” Geto said, his smile widening as he turned his attention fully to them. “But let us not waste another thought on him. I, for one, am most delighted to remain in your company.”

His words seemed to ease whatever tension lingered, and the two women exchanged a glance before smiling in unison. The blonde leaned into him, her fingers trailing lightly over the fabric of his coat. “You’re far more gracious than your friend,” she murmured, her voice taking on a playful lilt.

“I do try,” Geto replied, his tone teasing as his other hand came to rest on the woman—the one previously attending to Satoru—’s knee. “And if I may be so bold, I’d say we’ve quite the opportunity here—one we shouldn’t waste.”

She comes closer to him, remarking while looking up at him through her lashes, “I would say you’re rather right.”

With that, the three met passionately in an exchange of limbs, certainly making do…even with the lack of a certain white-haired duke-to-be.

prev. the lake | next. the art gallery

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a/n HEY BRIDGERTON!GOJO POOKIES HOW ARE WE!! this chapter was sooo messy for gojo lmaooo. we're sooo close to the slow burn arc ending and this was a biiiggg epiphany for geto. now comes the next stage of the plan 😈

one thing i also wanted to clarify (and make sure everyone noticed) was that we got the reason why gojo dropped reader. he got a lil crush and got scared :( a lot of people have been asking me about it, and a lot of people were already commenting their theories, which nailed it completely on the head. whether surprised or not, i hope it makes sense :3

also idk if this goes without saying but if you didn't like that gojo agree to go to the brothel / dont agree with sex work / dont like that geto indulges / yadda yadda pls dont make it my problem <3 im just writing what was common at the time, it's not indicative of my views on anything

gojo after realizing the woman looked like you

reblog and comment to let me know ur thots! :3

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404creep · 3 months ago

Text

Oh my lord y'all are so into Simon and his little cleaning lady so I had to make more. Working on a series of one shots I'll eventually start posting with this pairing because I genuinely think they're so cute. In the meantime here is part 3 of my little drabble series for y'all!

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The first time you actually speak to Ghost is during one of your lunch breaks.

He shows up for his daily fix of "watching Birdie like a fucking creepy stalker weirdo" and there you are munching on a sandwich at the table.

He kinda just walks over and sets a little package of cookies on the table and then steps back again, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed content to watch you enjoy your meal.

You look at the cookies, look at him, look at the cookies, look at him

You decided right then and there that if he wasn't going to do anything but watch it was up to you to initiate conversation.

So you sigh and push the chair next to you out while taking another big bite of your sandwich.

You kinda just gesture with your head for him to sit and he blinks at you a few times before slowly putting his large frame into the chair cautiously

as if you were the giant masked stalker that he should be cautious of or something

After he sits you just kinda start talking

He didn't contribute to the conversation much besides an occasional head nod and low hum when you say something in particular that he agrees with

By the end of it he's got his elbow on the table with his chin resting in his palm with eyes that are saying "I love you"

You know that audio from the Lego Movie that's like "blah blah blah proper name place name backstory stuff", yeah that's Simon.

Like bro is trying to listen I swear to god but mostly he's just so focused on the fact that you're talking to him.

When your lunch finally ends he just kind of trails behind you like a puppy ready to do literally anything for you.

Tries to take the mop out of your hands and do it himself and you swat him away and keep insisting it's your job and you can do your own work

About 30 more minutes of him glued to your side you kinda crack and smile at him and are like "you really like me, huh?"

His brain like short circuits cause how did you POSSIBLY figure it out??????

He follows you around for another hour before you shoo him away to go and do his own actual job.

He's in a very good mood when he returns to his office

Price comes in to drop off some paperwork for him at some point and he's kinda humming to himself.

Price is like "Something good happen today??"

Simon's just kinda shrugs, but in Price's eyes it's the equivalent of him kicking his lil feeties and twirling his hair.

Price figures it has something to do with you and just cracks a smile and leaves.

He's happy to see Simon happy.

By the end of the day Simon is literally thinking about what kind of ring you might want when he proposes

Like chill dude, y'all basically had your first conversation today......

He's just so cute

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writingwisterias · 4 months ago

Note

how would eras of leon respond to jealousy/yearning with sex?

Hi Anon!

Thanks for the request...I had a lot of fun thinking about this one 👀

Ok ok I'm cracking down on requests! I promise I needed a day to recover from work 💗

Warnings: NSFW, Yearning, Jealousy, Sexual Tension, MNDI

GN!Reader

RE2:

Just for something different, I'm doing a no Apocalypse AU for this one

You sit opposite him, your desks are connected. You were always so kind to him compared to the other officers

Both of you always get along well when you are paired for patrol etc

But he's not the only one that has eyes on you, every other officer seems to as well

He hates feeling jealous that the other officers are talking to you, touching you as they past and you are entertaining them?

There's a staff party and everyone is buying you drinks and chatting, he barely has a chance to speak to you. After all you are his only friend

What he didn't know is you are frustrated from all the attention and you are just trying to get to Leon

When you finally reach him, he's in a mood and it doesn't take long for you to realize hes jealous.

Maybes it's the drinks in your system or the small crush you have on him bubbling in your chest. But you kiss him

He's shocked at first, but recovers fast. His lips are desperate

Spots all the officers back off when he kisses you, so then his touch becomes possessive claiming you as his.

He'll make sure he's the only one you think about when you both leave and he takes you home. 👀

RE4R:

He's touched starved so anyone even approaches you with the intention of sex he's immediately jealous

He's confident enough that you won't go for someone else, even if you aren't exclusive but he'll be pissed off for a while

His jealous would come out in the form of silence,

like he's giving you the silence treatment until you figure out what's wrong and fix it

I think he would probably insert himself into the situation but more of him being a presence there than actually joining in...again silent treatment.

If you don't give him attention he's very heavy with eye contact, constantly trying to get you in his eyeline so he can watch you

Infinite darkness:

The most verbal about being jealous,

like he will pull you away and probably whisper to you how you are making him jealous

Longer touches as well, on your hip or lower back..he's making sure you notice it's there

I think he'll just constantly remind you of his presence until you eventually cave

To make him jealous it would be entertaining other people in an awkward conversation, like if someones asking you to dinner or whatever and your reply is "I'll have a look at my schedule" or "let me get back to you"

You probably aren't going to do either of those things but Leon doesn't like it, he'll make sure your schedule is full of him

Damnation:

I like the idea that he doesn't care enough to get jealous, like if you don't want him he will accept defeat and it will add to the list of other things wrong with his life

But he won't hide the fact he wants you

I imagine it's a situation where he's rough with everyone but you

The rest of his department constantly digs at him for this, it makes you blush when you finally notice it

Heavy eye contact on you, like constantly watching what you are doing around the office etc

It's when you are on a mission together that you finally cave and give him what he wants, and you definitely don't regret it

RE6:

I think he would be in the same boat as damnation where he doesn't really get jealous but he does show that he wants you

With his intense scenes with Ada as well he would make it even more prominent that he wants you

Whenever it's to show Ada that he's moved on or it's to show you that he still wants you

That's up to you

But he's going to make it known that there's nothing to worry about, he's smart enough to understand how him caring for Ada might seem he's still hung up on her

Vendetta:

I like the idea of you being a bartender at the bar he constantly visits

He enjoys your attention and sympathy, often having long chats about anything but his work

As soon as someone needs you though or you turn to serve another customer he's instantly jealous

You want him too, it's obvious. But not drunk and in the state of mind he's in

You understand that he would be good with that commitment and probably a loving partner but he needs to heal first

You put up with his drunken exclamations how he loves you and wants you, his constant staring and snarling at other customers

It's cute that he wants you that badly but until he sobers up and shows some signs of self improvement you won't do it

It does increase the heat from him, but he'll be thankful when he does eventually get sober

Death Island:

Super super jealous

Like you are an angel in his eyes why are you hanging out with someone else?

Why are you talking to one of his co workers? You don't need to entertain that asshole you are his

You aren't actually though, not yet

Both of you tip toeing on this line of friends and lovers

A game of seeing who caves first

He does, pressing you into a kiss that you can't forget. It was rushed after he had a close call with the virus.

Yet it leaves you logging for more, he's just waiting until you finally admit it to him

#~mads rambles #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #~eras leon kennedy #~mads~mail💌

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milawritess · 4 months ago

Note

just read your gojo fic and it was amazing!! can i ask does megumi end up calling the reader mom to her face or something along those lines in the end? i’m a sucker for the reader being a parent to megumi so was wanting to know how that plays out 💜

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader, mom!Reader & Fushiguro Megumi

Warnings: angst, Megumi missing his mum :(

Word count: 2k+

a/n: this takes place after the events of my fic Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow

Would Megumi ever call you mom to your face?

Yes and no. He’s a bit shy when it comes down to it.

After nearly dying, you were sick. Your technique became unstable, a flicker of the shadow of what your flames once were.

Your recovery was hard, harder than anyone could have expected. Your eyes were hollow and sunken; you had lost even more weight, and you were always so tired. Megumi saw you dozing off at the dinner table, in the middle of conversations, and one time while you were even standing. It seemed like a never-ending exhaustion—like your own soul couldn’t withstand being… alive.

It scared Megumi. More than words could describe.

When word got around that you couldn't even conjure up more than a spark, Megumi noticed you started to change. You’d disappear for days at a time, you were eating less and less, and you hardly spoke, evident by the strain in your vocal cords when you addressed him or anyone for that matter. He knew you were depressed; he picked up on the signs quickly and felt the weight of your absence. Eventually, it seemed Yuji and Nobara did as well.

It was starting to get to you, he thinks. But Megumi doesn’t entirely blame you. If he woke up one day unable to conjure his shadows, he thinks he’d lose himself, too.

Megumi could tell Gojo was starting to worry. He found him taking you out on strolls around the block a few times, trying to get you out of the house you’d much rather wallow away in. Gojo kept a bright smile on his face the entire time, and he was more open and apparent with his affection for you. His hands were always on your hip, around your shoulders, or your hand was tightly wrapped in his. Megumi wondered if it was to be closer to you or to help you keep your balance. Probably both; Gojo walked slower than usual, half strides that still never seemed quite slow enough to match yours.

It felt like you were just… disintegrating right before everyone’s eyes. To Megumi, it was like watching an angel fall from grace.

One day, he finds you and Gojo on the couch. After finishing his classes, he went to the store to buy your favorite soup, crackers, and some energy drinks he hoped might perk you up, even just a bit. He let himself into the Gojo estate after knocking and receiving no answer. It wasn't a big deal. Not too long ago, it was his home, too, and it's not like nobody was home. He could sense Gojo's presence. It was oddly overwhelming and dense.

He sees why when he finds you.

The room was warm—warm enough to make him break a sweat in his uniform upon entering. The fireplace was crackling, and the central heat was on blast. You were sprawled out on the couch in the main room, and Gojo was behind you, holding you to his chest while you slept. Megumi was ready to leave the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and leave. It didn’t feel right intruding, but-

You were shivering.

He doesn’t get it—why nothing could keep you warm. His whole life, you’ve always brought a warmth that extended beyond your kindness and soft smiles. It was the kind of warmth you shared with him— from those oversized winter coats you bought him, those knitted gloves you make him every year, and you.

He remembers being small and how you’d heat your hands before holding his tightly. Back then, he never had numb knuckles or fingertips whenever you were around. Not only that, you could just radiate warmth, effortlessly warming the air around you. He’s seen you do it a few times when the people around you got too cold. It was like walking past a sauna, a warm breeze that always caught others off guard.

He remembers you doing it just a few weeks ago. Yuji’s eyes widened, and he jumped up and down, annoyingly asking a million questions about your technique. You looked a bit prideful when he compared you to a fire-breathing dragon, which, ironically, might have been the best comparison for you.

He hated that you shivered now. With several blankets, the room cranked to eighty degrees, and Gojo beside you still wasn't enough. He hated that there wasn’t much anyone could do—anything he could do.

Quietly, he ambles upstairs, yanking the blanket off the bed in his old room. When he returns to the living room, he throws it over you and Gojo.

Gojo doesn’t move much but opens one eye, eyeing Megumi for a moment. He acknowledged Gojo with a nod, knowing that he wasn’t asleep. His six eyes have followed him since he knocked on the front door.

However, he notices that Gojo has sweat beading down his temple, his white hair damp and sticking to his forehead. Megumi hadn’t associated himself with Gojo much since the incident, but… he’s happy he’s with you, doing everything he can to keep you safe, protected, and warm, even at his own expense.

The corner of Gojos' lip twitches before his eye closes again.

Megumi leaves a note on the counter before leaving.

Mom,

I bought you some food from the market. It’s in the fridge. Get well soon.

— Megumi

It’s when Gojo takes a leave of absence from teaching that Megumi can feel it sinking in—a dark foreboding, an anxiousness that tied knots around his heart, keeping him up late into the night.

“I’m worried,” Yuji admitted sullenly. “What if… what if the damage was so bad she won’t fully heal? I know regenerating cursed energy takes a while, but it’s been weeks.”

“I really hope that’s not the case,” Nobara sighs, resting her elbows on the table and looking out into the distance. “It must be serious for Gojo-Sensei to leave.”

“I can’t imagine how painful it must have been,” Yuji winces a bit, merely playing with the fries on his plate. “… Urggg!” Yuji wines, hiding his face in his hands. “I don’t even wanna be at this stupid sandwich shop without Sensei. It’s not right!”

“Relax, I’ll order her something before leaving. I’ll drop it off at their place,” Megumi grouses, pulling himself away from his thoughts.

Yuji peeks at Megumi between his fingers. “…Can I come?”

Hell no, is what Megumi wants to say, but he bites his tongue. Tsk. You’d probably like to see Yuji—Nobara too.

“Fine,” Megumi laments between gritted teeth. “Just- don’t bother her too much. We drop the food off, and then we leave.”

Of course, Yuji doesn’t listen.

“Sensei, it was crazy! First, it went—boom! Then skeeert, and wham! And then, and then- I went flying! Right into the wall! But it was a short wall! I flipped right over it!”

You held a cup of warm tea in your hands and smiled softly, eagerly nodding along and giggling at Yuji. He animated the story with excitement, bouncing on his toes, and his voice echoed through the halls as he made quirky sounds. Megumi rolled his eyes, finding his friend rather obnoxious, but you looked happy. He supposed that was all that really mattered.

However, Megumi wonders if you have a single clue as to what Yuji is talking about. He surely didn’t.

Yuji threw himself down on the couch adjacent to where you sat, right beside Nobara. “Man… they banned me. Can you believe that?”

“They banned you? That’s egregious.”

“I know, right!”

You wiggle your eyebrows before taking a sip of your tea. “Want me to beat up the director?”

Yuji lets out a heartfelt laugh. “No, but that would be kinda funny,” he sighs dramatically. “I guess I’ll just have to start going to other skating rinks.”

“Sensei-” Nobara freezes, your name slipping from her lips.

Megumi couldn’t see what those two saw. He opted for staying in the corner of the room, watching you interact with his two friends. It was hard for him, he realized bitterly, to even look at you. So he stayed in the corner, content with just watching over you from a distance. But suddenly, the air is knocked from his lungs.

Things weren’t supposed to be like this.

Nobara reaches forward quickly, nearly dropping her tea as she does. She rips out three tissues from the tissue box before shoving them in your hands.

However, Yuji freezes. His face goes white as a sheet.

You lean forward, holding the tissue to your nose. Nobara jumps up, putting her hands on your shoulders as she encourages you to stand. “We’ll be right back! Going to the ladies room!”

It’s only when you two walk past him that he sees the bloody tissue, crimson dripping from your nose. Yuji remains silent on the couch, fiddling with his hands and looking at nothing in particular. He looks like he just saw a ghost, and Megumi doesn’t blame him. He felt the same way; however, he had the will to move. In a haze, his feet carry him to the kitchen. He finds Gojo there, plating the food Megumi brought you and putting it in the microwave.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Well, hello to you too, brat.”

“Just tell me already.”

Gojo sighs. “Yeesh. Everything’s fine, you little gremlin. Nothing you gotta worry about.”

“H-Her nose just started bleeding! Out of nowhere.”

Gojo seems to pause for a moment before going back to what he was doing. “Seems Nobara has it handled. They’re on their way back to the living room now.”

“Just tell me what’s going on,” Megumi nearly pleads. He wants to accuse Gojo of not caring, of not doing whatever he can for you during your difficult recovery, but the bitter words never make it past his lips. Megumi knows he is. Even when anger threatens to blind Megumi, he remembers that you and Gojo have weird dynamics that often leave people’s heads spinning; however, the love is always there, alive and apparent. He just had to know where to look.

Gojo loves you, and more importantly, he makes you happy. Megumi knew that even if he didn’t always understand it.

Gojo sighed before reaching for the sink and turning on the faucet. Megumi gives an odd look, but Gojo grins before tapping his ear. Oh. Right. If you wanted to, you could easily pick up on what they were discussing. Megumi imagines you wouldn’t feel great knowing they were speaking about you—even if it came from a place of worry and concern. You didn’t need anything else being added to your plate.

“Is she sick?”

Gojo crosses his arms before leaning his back against the counter. “She is,” he answers honestly. Megumi wanted the truth, yet he flinched when it was handed to him. “She is sick.”

How can he do that? Sound so indifferent? But, as he looks at Gojo, Megumi notices that he's uncharacteristically stoic, almost stern, as he hands him the cold truth. Gojo didn’t like what was happening as much as Megumi, but there was no avoiding the truth and no sense in lying about it.

“What can we do?”

“Not much,” Gojo answers easily. “We just… wait.“

Megumi can’t quite understand that. He hates this, hates waiting, day after day. You were weak; Megumi could sense it, Yuji and Nobara, too.

“She’s outputting more energy than she is retaining… how do you even begin to fix something like that?” Megumi murmurs, his eyes finding the floor. He was afraid. You were his mother, the woman who loved and raised him and always kept him warm. He feels like he’s losing you, like a candle wick running dry of wax.

Suddenly, Gojo reaches up, ruffling Megumi's dark hair. “She’ll be alright, brat.” Gojo playfully pushes his head back as he pulls away, a small smile now gracing his lips. “Leave all the worrying to me, yeah? I’ll take good care of her. I promise.”

“Sensei! I’m praying for you!”

Nobara rolls her eyes. “You’re not supposed to tell her, dimwit.”

“I know, but I want her to know I’m praying for her recovery!”

Megumi groans, stepping away from the shrine. “Just shut up, Yuji.”

You smiled from your spot beside Gojo. You were leaning on him, your head resting on his shoulder. One of your arms wrapped around Gojo’s, your fingers grasping his bicep. Your other hand reached down, intertwining your delicate fingers with his. Clinging to his arm, which you held close to your chest, you smiled sweetly as you observed the scene around you.

You still looked exhausted, and there were still bags under your eyes, but you had enough energy to get out of the house today, at least.

“Thank you, Yuji,” you smiled. “I appreciate it more than anything.”

He beams, giving two big thumbs up.

“Whatever,” Nobara brushed Yuji off, stepping forward. “I, on the other hand, got you an omamori!” She presents the small charm to you with a broad and cheesy grin. It was a Kenko charm—an amulet for good health and protection from illness and disease.

You hesitantly reach for it, clasping it with one of your hands. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to. You have exams coming up that you should be focused on.”

Nobara waves you off harmlessly before looking at Gojo. Her eyes squinted. “You didn’t get her anything. Tsk. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Wha- I got her something! Look! Show them sweets!”

You laugh, putting Nobara’s charm in your pocket and rummaging around. You pull out two other charms—en-musubi charms. Your cheeks flush a bit as you happily present them, and Gojo perks up, looking the proudest he’s ever looked.

“Two en-musubi? Hm,” Nobara hums passively. “And yet I don’t see a ring on her finger.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!”

Nobara defiantly turns her head from her Sensei. “Whatever, just tell us how you really feel...”

“Y’know, Satoru,” you play along with a slight grin. “She might be onto something…”

“Wait! Hold on, let me buy you a charm!” Yuji dashed away, ignoring how you protested, yelling to him that it was alright and that you didn’t need another charm.

Megumi sighs. He hates to admit it, but that idiot's right. He should get you a charm, too. ”I’ll be right back.”

“Megumi, it's okay! I don’t need another one! My pockets are already full!”

He waves, brushing you off. It was the least he could do. He prayed for you, of course he did, but he wouldn’t say anything about it—unwilling to risk his prayers potentially being unanswered. So, he walks, eventually catching up with Yuji. However, even with the charm in his hands, it doesn’t feel enough.

So, after buying your charm, he walks over to another booth. He takes out his wallet to purchase an ema, a wooden plank on which he can write the wish he has been praying for over the past few weeks.

What Megumi doesn’t see, though, is Gojo nudging you and pointing over to where Megumi stood. Just in time, you see him hanging his ema, placing it alongside hundreds of other wishes. It’s only when Megumi turns around that he notices you and Gojo have been watching him the entire time.

He coughs, cheeks flushing as he walks away. He puts his head down before walking to where Yuji and Nobara are waiting for him, too embarrassed to look your way. Yuji and Nobara’s smiles were sincere. Yuji even offered him a friendly squeeze on the shoulder.

There were tears in your eyes as you read the ema.

I wish for my mother to get well soon.

a/n: just a little blurb following the events of wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow :p

Let me know your thoughts or if I should write a longer fic detailing the reader's recovery. I have a few ideas in mind…

As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3

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yourlocaljonghoe · 6 months ago

Text

(Not) Another Love Song. || Choi Jongho.

Summary: having a crush on your new roommate is already nerve-wracking enough. but then finding out about his secret cover account made everything even worse. you swear you didn't mean to find it. but when his voice is the only thing helping you through sleepless nights, what else can you do?

Pairing: choi jongho x reader

Genre: college au, roomates to lovers, fluff, smut (mdni)

Wordcount: 11.5k

Warnings: mentions of insomnia, big dick!jongho (i mean duh), manhandling, body worship, nipple play, riding, unprotected sex

A/N: hello, i want to sincerely apologize for vanishing for so long and then coming back with this trashy fic🥲 seriously, in my head this was so much better, but the end result... ugh. but it's whatever! i want to thank y'all again for being so patient with me and also for 300 followers!! sooo crazy🥺 also big thanks to @inkedtae for being my beta, you were a big help! & as always divider credits to @firefly-graphics!

Taglist: @ghstzzn, @kyukyustar, @hwapetals, @foxinnie8, @preciouswoozi, @aussiekpopginger, @kitten4sannie, @hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf

Available here on AO3.

“So… I heard someone here got caught in a very awkward situation with their new roommate,” Wooyoung teased, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he sat down beside you.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Please, Wooyoung, don’t remind me. It was so fucking humiliating.”

He laughed, clearly having no intention of stopping. “So, what exactly were you even searching for when he walked in? 'How to talk to your insanely pretty and hot roommate for dummies'?”

You shot him a glare, your cheeks burning. God, you wanted to disappear off the fucking earth, anything to make the teasing stop, really. “I just… didn’t know how to talk to him, okay? And it was just a dumb search. I didn’t expect him to walk in and see it. I-i thought he was out and I would have enough time to prepare some things if I wanted to say to him. You know my conversation skills aren't exactly the best…”

Wooyoung chuckled and leaned back in his seat, shaking his head. “Well, you’ve definitely made an impression now. But, hey, maybe it’s a good thing! Now he knows you’re shy, and maybe thinks it's kind of cute.”

You groaned again, sinking even deeper into your chair if that was even possible. “It’s not cute. It’s mortifying. He probably thinks I'm such a loser now-”

“Which you are-”

“Shut up, Wooyoung!”

He leaned in closer to you again, his smirk growing. “So, what’s the plan? Are you going to avoid him forever, or are you actually going to talk to him like a normal person?”

You groaned, feeling the heat rise to your face again. “I don't know, okay? I'll figure it out… eventually.”

Wooyoung snorted, clearly not buying it. "Sure, ‘eventually’ meaning ‘never.’ Just admit it - you’re avoiding him because he’s totally your type.”

Before you could muster a response and curse him out again, the door to the boys’ shared apartment swung open, and in walked San, Yeosang, and Yunho, their voices filling the room as they entered. They paused when they noticed you and Wooyoung huddled together, immediately raising their eyebrows.

“What’s going on here?” San asked, a mischievous look in his eyes as he plopped down on the couch beside you.

“Oh, just Y/N getting caught by Choi Jongho - you know, her new roommate - googling ‘how to talk to your roommate 101’,” Wooyoung said, his grin practically splitting his face.

You wanted to personally scratch it off his face.

Yunho’s eyebrows shot up in surprise before he burst into laughter. “Girl- No way! You didn’t!”

You buried your face in your hands, wishing the ground would just swallow you up. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?"

Yeosang settled down on the armrest, his expression more curious than teasing. "Why didn’t you just talk to us? We could’ve helped.”

“Yeah,” San added, nudging you playfully. “We’re pros at this stuff. Jongho’s just a guy - granted, a rather intimidating guy, but still.”

“Can't one of you just talk to him?” you whined.

San chuckled, shaking his head. “I mean… we’re not that close to him yet either. He’s still new at the college, and he’s pretty reserved. Besides, he’s your roommate, not ours.”

You sighed. "Great. So, not only am I living with someone who’s way out of my league, but no one’s even close enough to help break the ice."

Yunho nodded sympathetically, but there was still a playful glint in his eyes. “Yeah, sorry, but it looks like you’re on your own for this one. Well, sort of. We can still help you figure out how to approach him though since, no offense, your social skills suck.”

“None taken,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes.

Wooyoung leaned in again, clearly enjoying your discomfort just a bit too much. “You know what would help? Actually spending some time together at your place. You two barely even cross paths. That’s probably why you’re so nervous around him.”

“Yeah,” San chimed in, catching on to Wooyoung’s idea. “You live together, but it’s like you’re living in two separate worlds. If you just hung out at home one night, it could break the tension.”

You frowned, the thought of spending a night alone with Jongho making your stomach do flips. “You all know how awkward I am with people…”

Yunho smiled reassuringly. “It will only be as awkward as you make it. Just think of it as spending time with a friend, not as some big, intimidating thing. You could start with a movie, order takeout, something low-key, you know?”

“You don’t have to force a deep conversation either,” Yeosang added. “Just focus on getting comfortable around each other. Once that happens, the rest will surely follow.”

You bit your lip, considering their advice. It wasn’t like you had much to lose - things were already awkward, and avoiding him clearly wasn’t working. But the idea of initiating something still made you nervous. You were a shy, quiet person, and if the boys hadn't practically adopted you, you probably wouldn't have any friends on campus now.

“Come on, Y/N,” Wooyoung encouraged, seeing your hesitation. “You’re making it a bigger deal than it is. Jongho’s not going to bite. And if things get weird, just laugh it off. He’ll appreciate the effort.”

You sighed, finally relenting as you realised they were right - much to your dismay. “Okay, okay. I’ll try to spend some time with him. But if it gets too awkward, I’m blaming all of you!”

Yunho grinned, giving you a thumbs-up. “Let's wait and see first.”

Wooyoung patted your shoulder, his smirk softening into a more genuine smile. “You’ve got this. And hey, if it turns out he’s as cool as he seems, maybe you’ll end up being great friends - or, you know, more.”

You rolled your eyes at Wooyoung’s last comment but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. By the way, where are the others?”

“Uh, Y/N's getting shy~ Look at her blushing and trying to play it cool!”

“One day, Jung Wooyoung, one fucking day!” you hissed, and if looks could kill, he'd definitely be dead by now.

The others laughed, and Yunho casually threw his arm around you as he sat down, practically shoving poor San out the way.

“But to answer your question: they're grabbing some food. You hungry?” he asked.

“Very”, you answered.

“Great,” he smirked. “Gotta tell the others about the incident with your crush too once they're back.”

“Whatever dude,” you murmured, sighing defeated.

Operation: ‘How To Talk To Your Roommate’ was officially starting.

You paced around the living room, glancing at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time. The food you spent ages on - cooking was never a talent of yours, so it took longer than it should have - was set up on the small dining table, and you’d even gone the extra mile, lighting a few candles to create a warm, cozy atmosphere. You’d picked out an action movie to watch too, something random you found while scrolling through Netflix, hoping that Jongho would be a fan of the genre. He certainly didn't strike you as the romantic type of guy.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and with each passing minute your hands got sweater and your heart beat faster. What if this doesn’t go well? What if he thinks it’s weird? You tried to push the thoughts aside, reminding yourself that Jongho never came across as a rude guy in the few months you've known him. Sure, a bit reserved, but so were you. Just relax. It’s not a date. It’s just two roommates hanging out.

You inhaled deeply, straightening out your shirt for what felt like the thousandth time. You were dressed casually but nicely, a nice shirt and some jeans that went perfectly along together.

The faint sound of footsteps outside the door made you freeze, your breath catching in your throat. You quickly tried to compose yourself, running through the plan in your head one more time. Movie, dinner, small talk. Just act natural. Imagine he was one of the guys. Just a super cool, chill evening together.

The door creaked open, and you turned to greet Jongho - only to be met with a sight that made your brain short-circuit.

In your defense: you were on your period. Meaning you were super horny these days. Plus… it was Jongho. Sue you for having functioning eyes.

He stepped in, and the first thing you noticed was how the drops of sweat clung to his skin, making your mouth almost water. He was wearing a black tank top that clung to his frame, showing off his broad shoulders and toned arms. A dark beanie was pulled down over his head to keep his sweat-soaked hair in check. He was panting slightly, the evidence of his workout clear as he dropped his gym bag by the door.

You blinked, trying to force your brain to reboot. This was going horribly wrong.

His eyes quickly scanned the room, taking in the scene - the dim lighting, the candles, the carefully set table. You could see the moment his gaze settled on you, still frozen in place by the door.

“Uh... what's all this?” he asked, his voice filled with surprise as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no coherent words came out. Your mind was spinning, your thoughts all tangled up at the sight of him. All you could focus on was how that damn tank top clung to his chest and the way his arms flexed as he moved. It was enough to make you feel lightheaded, and the fact that you were on your period only doubled every emotion and reaction you felt to an unbearable level.

“I-uh-” you stammered, your cheeks burning as you tried to string together a sentence. "I made dinner... I mean, I tried- I- I mean, it's not a 5 star meal but I'm sure not too bad either… hopefully. W-whatever, it's just food, you know? And I thought we could, um, hang out... since we're, uh, roommates and all... and... uh…”

You could see the confusion on Jongho’s face deepen as you rambled on, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to follow your erratic train of thought. The more you babbled, the worse it got, and you could feel tears out of frustration build behind your eyes, making your stomach churn.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Jongho asked, taking a cautious step forward, his voice gentle but tinged with concern.

No. No, you weren’t. And it was your own fault for being so damn anxious over nothing.

You needed to get out of here - away from him, away from this mess of a night. You couldn’t deal with this right now, not with him standing there, looking like every fantasy you’d ever had and more while you were… Well, you.

Shy, awkward, weird you.

“I-I'm fine!” you blurted out, your voice cracking as you backed away toward your room. “I just, uh, forgot something! I’ll be right back! You can eat without me!”

Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and bolted, practically slamming your bedroom door shut behind you. Once inside, you leaned against the door, your heart pounding in your chest, your breath coming in shaky gasps.

You sat on the floor with your back against the door, trying your best to calm your racing heart. You wanted to scream, cry, or maybe both. All the effort you put into tonight - cooking, setting the table, choosing a movie - it all seemed like such a waste now. How could you face Jongho after what happened? Or rather didn't happen. God, you stood there completely frozen. How embarrassing. And then you couldn't even talk properly.

What a fucking loser you were.

Minutes passed, and yet you still couldn’t bring yourself to leave the room. You could hear faint sounds from the living room: the clinking of plates, the shuffling of feet, and the occasional low hum of a voice - probably Jongho talking to himself as he ate. The idea of going back out there made your skin crawl, so you decided to stay put. Maybe he would think you fell asleep or were too tired to come back out. Either way, facing him seemed impossible right now.

Your ego was too hurt.

Just as you were trying to finally move away from the door, a faint rustling sound caught your attention. You looked down and saw a small piece of paper being slowly slid under your door. Hesitant, you picked it up, your heart pounding as you unfolded it.

The note was short, written in Jongho’s neat handwriting:

Thanks for the dinner. It was really good. Hope you’re feeling better soon. Get some rest. Goodnight :)

Jongho.

A small smile stole its way on your lips. He wasn’t upset or weirded out by your behaviour. If anything, he just seemed concerned. It made your heart race, but this time, not out of anxiety.

Gathering your courage after another few minutes, you slowly opened your door and peeked out into the living room. The place was quiet, the table cleared, and the lights dimmed. You expected to see Jongho already back in his room, but instead, you found him asleep on the couch.

He looked peaceful, his head resting against the arm of the couch, his breathing slow and even. He must have dozed off after cleaning up. Your heart softened at the sight, guilt creeping in as you realised he had taken the time to clean up everything by himself while you were hiding away in your room.

As you quietly approached the couch, you noticed his laptop open on the coffee table. The screen was still on, casting a soft glow over the room. The faint light outlined his peaceful features as he laid sound asleep, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths.

You glanced curiously at the screen, wondering what he was trying to do before he fell asleep.

There were several tabs open - a mix of school assignments and a music playlist paused midway through a song. But one tab in particular caught your eye: a YouTube account page.

Oh. Oh.

His YouTube account to be exact.

You stood there for a moment, your eyes fixed on the open YouTube tab on Jongho's laptop. The username ‘im_finale’ was displayed in the corner, and you could see a list of song covers he'd uploaded, each one with quite a handful of views. You’d heard him singing before - just snippets of some melodies as he cleaned or studied - but you never would've thought he was actively posting covers online. It was surprising, considering how reserved and private he generally was. But at the same time, it also wasn't.

After all, he studied music just like you.

Curiosity got the better of you and after a brief moment of hesitation, you tiptoed back to your room, closing the door gently behind you. Once inside, you sat on your bed and pulled out your phone. You typed “im_finale” into the YouTube search bar and, sure enough, his channel immediately popped up. The profile picture was simple - a black-and-white image of a piano key, fitting for the kind of channel he had.

You slowly scrolled through the videos. There were a few classic ballads, some more modern pop songs, and even a couple of R&B tracks. Without thinking too much about it, you grabbed your airpots and then clicked on the most recent upload.

The melody of Through The Night by IU started playing, and there was a brief pause before Jongho’s voice joined in, soft and angelic.

You leaned back against your pillows, closing your eyes as you let the music fully take you in. It was incredible - better than you could ever have imagined, to be honest. A shiver ran down your spine as the soft falsetto hit perfectly, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. This is amazing, you thought. His voice had a way of drawing you completely in, of making you forget the whole world around you.

It was just you, him and the melody in the background.

When the song ended, you opened your eyes and realized you’d been holding your breath the entire time. The room was quiet again, and you immediately started missing his voice in your ears. You didn’t want the moment to end, so you clicked on another video, and then another.

You spent the next hour or so listening to more of his covers, and before you knew it, your eyes had fallen shut, and your breathing slowed down.

Jongho’s voice was the only thing your mind still registered. It carried you off into sleep, and there, in your dreams, you were no longer listening to his voice through headphones. Instead, he was right beside you, laying in the quiet of your room, softly singing just for you.

Each word he sang seemed meant for your ears alone, and the warmth of his presence made your heart flutter. In that dream, there was nothing bad, nothing to keep your mind in a frenzy - just the two of you, side by side, his beautiful voice wrapping around you like a gentle embrace.

For that brief moment, nothing else mattered. It was just you, him, and the music.

You didn’t know when you drifted off completely, but as you slowly succumbed to your tiredness, his voice still lingered in your mind, keeping you company through the night.

“And that's it for today. Remember: all of today's topics are very important for the next exam!”

You blinked, slowly waking up from your slumber as the lecture hall buzzed with the noise of students packing up their things. Your head was still groggy, the weight of the all-nighter you’d pulled for an assignment last night catching up to you during the lecture. You were vaguely aware that the professor had been going on and on about some theory or another, but you didn't actually remember a single word. Instead, you'd spent the entire class lost in a dreamlike state, all you could really focus on was Jongho’s voice playing over and over again in your earphones.

It has been a week now since you discovered his secret account, and in that time alone, you spent countless hours listening to his covers over and over again.

As you sat there, still blinking sleep from your eyes, you felt a presence settle beside you, and without thinking, you mindlessly muttered, “Jongho?”

“Yeah, it's me. You okay?”

You jolted upright, startled at the sound of his voice - not through your earbuds this time, but right beside you. You pulled your airpods out and turned your head, half-expecting to still be dreaming, but there he was, standing right next to you with a slightly concerned look in his eyes.

“Oh my god, you're real,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. You cringed at your own words, your cheeks flushing a deep crimson red. “I mean - uh, hi.”

Jongho's brow furrowed, though there was a small hint of amusement in his expression. “You were completely out for the entire lecture,” he said, his tone soft but teasing. “I was sitting a few rows back, and I saw you… just knocked out. I figured I'd come check on you.”

“Oh god, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes, still trying to shake off the remaining drowsiness. “I was up all night working on an assignment and then… I guess I just passed out.”

Jongho gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah, I could tell. You looked like you were having a good nap though,” he teased gently. “I was thinking… if you want, I could send you my notes from the lecture. I know you missed most of it.”

Your eyes widened at his offer, your heart skipping a beat. “R-really? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he shrugged, “I mean, we’re roommates. Might as well help each other out, right?”

You felt a wave of warmth flood your chest, and a big smile stole its way on your lips. You’d been so nervous about him this whole time, but here he was, offering to help you like it was nothing. He wasn't a big, intimidating guy some people made him out to be. He was kind. And cute. So, so cute. “Thanks, Jongho. I’d really appreciate that.”

“No problem,” he replied easily, waiting for you to gather your things. “I can send them over later tonight, or... well, if you want, we can go over them together now?”

Were you imagining things or was Choi Jongho actually getting red in the face right now?

You blinked, your heart threatening to jump out of your chest altogether. “Oh! Uh, yeah, that’d be great. I mean, if you have time? Like- no pressure, dude.”

He snorted, quickly hiding his laugh behind his hand. You blushed again. “I’ve got time right now. Let’s head to the café right outside the campus or something.”

You couldn’t help the little smile that spread across your face. This was your chance to actually spend some time with him, and your nerves were already buzzing with anticipation. You felt like the happiest woman in the world right now.

“That sounds perfect.”

As the two of you left the lecture hall, you found yourself slowly relaxing. Jongho was easy to talk to, much more than you’d expected. Sure, he was still a little reserved, but he had a dry sense of humour and was actually quite the goofball, making you laugh and smile so hard it almost hurt.

But just as you were walking through the campus toward the café, you heard a familiar voice call out, “Y/N!”

You turned around to see Wooyoung, San, and Yeosang walking towards you, their faces lighting up when they spotted you and Jongho together. You spotted Wooyoung's grin miles away already, and you knew you were in for his usual teasing.

You froze next to Jongho, and he sent a questioning look towards you.

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here,” Wooyoung smirked, stopping in front of you two. “Didn’t we have plans today, Y/N?”

Your eyes widened, and a long forgotten thought popped up again. “Oh my god, I totally forgot. We were supposed to meet up at the restaurant, weren’t we?”

San crossed his arms, trying to look serious but failing to hide the playful smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, the others are already waiting there. It's your turn today, but you probably forgot that too, right?”

“…And what if I did?” you mumbled quietly, shying away from their gazes. Truth be told, the last few days have been pretty hectic for you. Getting your assignment done and dealing with your insomnia (again) had taken up pretty much all your time, and the only thing making your day brighter has been Jongho.

Not that you'd ever tell him that.

Jongho glanced between you and your friends. He shifted his weight slightly, his brow furrowed in mild concern. “Uh, do you want to go with them then? I mean, if you forgot… I don’t want to make things awkward,” he said, trying to gauge the situation.

“What? No, it’ll be fine, you can come with us if you want,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “I mean, it’s just dinner with friends. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

Jongho hesitated, looking at you and then back at your friends. “I don’t want to intrude or anything,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t really know you guys that well.”

San stepped forward, his smile wide and welcoming. “You’re not intruding! We’d love to have you. Besides, Y/N talks about you all the time, it's time for us to finally get to know you for real.”

Your cheeks flushed at that, and you could feel the heat rising. “Okay, maybe not all the time,” you mumbled, shooting Jongho an apologetic look.

“See? You’re already family now,” Wooyoung teased, throwing an arm around Jongho’s shoulders. Jongho stiffened slightly, clearly not used to the sudden touch, but he didn’t pull away.

“Alright, let’s get going then,” you said, trying to steer the conversation away from the awkwardness. “I really don’t want to keep the others waiting.”

Together you started walking to your favourite Korean restaurant, just five minutes from your campus. Wooyoung and San kept talking and laughing together, with Yeosang throwing in a comment here and there, while Jongho walked beside you, a bit quieter but smiling at the playful exchange nonetheless.

When you finally arrived, the familiar scent of fried rice and kimchi welcomed you. The restaurant was completely full as always, and you spotted Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, and Mingi at your usual table, all of them already deep in conversation.

“Hey! Look who finally decided to show up!” Yunho called out, waving you over. His grin was infectious, and you felt your mood lift even more at the sight of your favourite people.

“Sorry! I lost track of time,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you approached the table. “But I brought my roommate along! Everyone, meet Jongho!”

“Nice to meet you, Jongho!” Mingi said, extending his hand for a shake. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

Jongho looked a bit surprised but shook Mingi’s hand with a shy smile. “Nice to meet you too.”

Seonghwa leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “So, Jongho, how is our Y/N as a roommate? Is she loud? Messy? Annoying? You two also study music together, right? How is she in class?"

“Okay mom, let Jongho sit down first,” you laughed, guiding Jongho to the seat right next to you.

Jongho chuckled softly at your comment, and slowly took the seat beside you, though you could still sense a bit of his initial hesitation in his movement. It was probably overwhelming to be surrounded by so many unfamiliar faces all at once. You glanced over at him and shot a reassuring smile. He returned it, his expression softening a little.

Seonghwa leaned in with a playful smile. “So, Jongho, how is our Y/N as a roommate? Don’t think you’re getting away without answering that one!”

Jongho glanced at you, his lips curving into a slight smile. “Honestly, we don’t get to see each other much because our schedules don't quite align. But I can say she’s definitely better than my last roommate. A lot quieter, too.”

San raised an eyebrow. “Quieter? Are we talking about the same Y/N? The one who constantly talks and talks and-”

“Enough, Choi San!”

Jongho giggled. Oh god, that gummy smile and the sound of his slight laughter would be the absolute death of you. “Compared to my last roommate, yes. Trust me.”

You grinned, trying to ignore your rapidly beating heart. “You’re making me sound boring.”

“Nah,” Jongho replied, shaking his head. “You’re definitely not boring. Just… respectful. Which I appreciate.”

There was a warm look in his eyes, and you felt your heart skip a beat. But before you could dwell on it, Wooyoung cut in, “So, what’s she like in class? Is she as much of a goody two-shoes as she pretends to be?”

You rolled your eyes and nudged him playfully. “Excuse me, I’m just trying to pass, okay? Not my fault your grades suck-”

“-my grades are just fine, thank you very much,” Wooyoung grumbled.

Jongho smiled, his gaze flickering to you. “She’s a good student. Serious when it counts, but still knows how to have fun.”

“Wow, I almost believed that,” Yeosang joked, earning a round of laughter.

“What is it with all of you today…”, you mumbled, sighing at their teasing. Hongjoong shot you an apologetic look from the other side of the table.

San raised a shot glass and grinned. “Alright, enough of that. It’s game time. How about Truth or Dare?”

Yunho quickly grabbed the bottle of soju from the table you ordered earlier. “Oh, yes. Truth or Dare, with a twist.” He wiggled the bottle in his hand. “A shot if you don’t answer or refuse a dare.”

Everyone cheered as the game began, with the bottle passed around and the first few rounds filled with harmless dares and easy truths. As the soju loosened everyone’s nerves, the questions became bolder, and the laughter grew louder.

Mingi got asked who from your friends he'd consider for a potential threesome, and with red cheeks the gentle giant mumbled Yunho and that girl in his class he'd been interested in for awhile now, before quickly downing a shot and avoiding everyone's eyes.

Eventually, it was your turn. “Truth or Dare, Y/N?” Yunho asked, his eyes glinting mischievously.

“Truth,” you said, knowing you weren’t in the mood for a dare just yet.

“Describe your ideal type,” Yunho said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair.

You hesitated for a moment, your thoughts racing as you tried to keep your cool. “Well…” you began, looking down at your hands. “I guess I like someone who’s not too loud-”

“-that feels oddly targeted,” Wooyoung mumbled, but you deliberately ignored him.

“And who can be very playful but also serious when it matters. Someone who's kind and has a good sense of humour, even if it's a little dry at times.” You glanced quickly at Jongho before looking away, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Someone who’s hardworking and determined, who takes what they do seriously. Oh, and physically…” you trailed off, your cheeks warming as a picture quickly came to your mind. “I guess I’m into someone with a strong build… someone who’s tall but not too tall, maybe with broad shoulders. And, um… nice eyes.”

“Nice eyes?” San echoed, grinning as he raised an eyebrow. “Anything else?”

“Okay, that's enough!” you laughed, feeling the heat in your cheeks intensify. “You got your answer. I exposed myself enough.”

But, as always, Wooyoung wasn’t letting you off that easily. “Hmm, strong build, nice eyes… sounds like someone at this table fits that description,” he teased, nudging Jongho with his elbow.

Jongho’s ears turned pink, but he quickly composed himself, at least from the outside. “I didn’t realize this was now a matchmaking session,” he said with a soft laugh.

You quickly reached for a shot and downed it, trying to shift the attention away from you and the poor man next to you. “Alright, who’s next?” you said, waving your hand.

“Yeosang, c’mon!” Wooyoung and San shoved the poor man, and all of you laughed as you watched the chaos unfold.

“You're an idiot!” you whined for the fifth time in a row as Jongho carefully guided your wobbling figure along the sidewalk. Jongho’s hand remained steady on your arm, keeping you upright as the cool night air brushed against your flushed cheeks.

“I'm the idiot?” he chuckled, “unbelievable. As far as I know, I'm not the one who forgot their wallet for the dinner they were supposed to pay for.”

You huffed, your pout deepening as you glanced up at him. “It’s not my fault!” you protested. “I had every intention of treating everyone, and then - poof! My wallet decided to disappear. It’s probably off somewhere having the time of its life without me.”

“Uh-huh,” Jongho replied, his lips curling into that teasing smile you were starting to become very familiar with. “Sure, blame the wallet. It definitely wasn’t the fact that you were rushing out the door half-awake this morning and even forgot you had dinner plans with your friends in the first place.”

“Okay, I’ll admit I was a bit of a mess,” you conceded, shooting him a sheepish look. “But still! You didn’t have to pay for everything, you know. I feel bad about it. It was supposed to be my treat, not yours.”

He shrugged, his grip on your arm gentle but firm as he guided you over a small bump in the sidewalk. “I told you, it’s not a big deal,” he said. “I’m happy to cover it. Besides, I’d rather do that than have you stress out over it in front of the poor barista.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, though the fondness in your gaze betrayed your attempt at being stern with him. “But that’s not fair! Now I owe you, and I don’t like owing people.”

Jongho raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You can’t just accept a little kindness from your roommate?”

You felt a rush of warmth flood your chest at his words. “It’s not that I can’t accept kindness,” you murmured, your voice softening. “It’s just… I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you or something.”

He shook his head, a small, reassuring smile tugging at his lips. “Trust me, I don’t think that,” he said. “I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t want to.”

“But you paid for eight people you basically didn't know!” you whined.

“Seven,” he said.

“Huh?”

He looked you right in the eye. “I only paid for seven. After all, I know you, Y/N. Perhaps even better than you think.”

You opened your mouth to argue further, but the alcohol in your mind made it difficult for you to come up with any smart remarks.

“Okay,” you said at last, giving in with a reluctant sigh. “But I’m still cooking dinner for the next two weeks. No excuses!”

“Deal,” Jongho replied easily, flashing you that signature gummy smile you so adored. “Do I have to be scared though? You know, because….”

“I had an accident in our kitchen once, Jongho! Once!”

“Yeah, and what if you accidentally kill us with your next accident?”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him lightly with your shoulder as he laughed loudly beside you. “Ha ha, very funny,” you muttered, but the smile on your face was impossible to hide.

This has been all you wanted.

Talking, laughing, just being with him.

“You’re still awake?” Jongho's voice broke the silence as he walked through the door, his brows rising when he saw you lying on the couch.

“Yeah,” you sighed, keeping your gaze on the TV. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Jongho dropped his keys onto the table and made his way over to you, sitting down at the edge of the couch. “Another rough night?”

You nodded. After a few weeks, the two of you had finally gotten closer, even going as far as sharing a few personal struggles with one another here and there. And when you opened up about your constant struggle with insomnia, Jongho showed you nothing but sympathy and support.

Now, there are little to no secrets between the two of you.

Well… except one.

“Guess my brain didn't get the memo. Again.”

He frowned, his eyes scanning your tired face. “You should’ve called. I would’ve come back sooner.”

You shook your head. “You were out with your friends. I didn’t want to ruin your night.”

“It wouldn’t have,” he said, his tone soft but firm as he settled in next to you. “Let’s see if I can help.”

Jongho's eyes wandered to the empty spot on the coffee table where your earphones usually sat. "Where are?...”

“My earphones?” you chuckled.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “You always have them, especially when you can’t sleep.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head at the memory. “Oh, right. Funny story,” you said, a wry smile spreading across your lips. “I kind of… broke them today.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “How the fuck did you manage that?”

“No swearing, Mr. Choi! A dollar into the swear jar!”

“Goddamn it,” he grumbled, and you just watched him with a big grin on your face as he trotted to a small table across the room and reached into his pockets for some money.

“Anyways,” you began, “I was trying to untangle the cord, but it just had this goddamn impossible knot. So I thought, ‘I’ll just give it a little yank to loosen it up.’” You gestured with your hands to show how exactly you’d pulled on the cord. “Except… it wasn’t a little yank. I guess I don’t know my own strength, because the whole thing literally snapped right in half.”

Jongho let out an adorable giggle as he dropped a dollar into the swear jar, shaking his head in disbelief. “Seems like we're spending too much time together,” he teased, his lips curling into a smirk. “First, you're breaking stuff with your bare hands, and next thing you know, you'll be lifting weights in the gym like me.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “Oh, please. I think I’ll leave the muscle-building to you, Mr. Choi. I don't think I could even surpass Wooyoung.”

“Well, good thing I’m here to help you out if you ever have to fight him.” He paused, briefly glancing toward the hallway. But about your earphones, I think I actually have a spare pair in my room somewhere. Want me to go grab them for you?”

Your eyes widened a little. “You sure? I don’t want to take your extra pair.”

Jongho waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I don’t use them much anyway,” he said, already rising from the couch before you could stop him. “Besides, I’d rather you have something to help you sleep.” He threw you a reassuring look as he headed down the hallway. “I’ll be right back.”

You smiled fondly, letting out a heartfelt sound.

What a helpless fool you were.

And it didn't even face you anymore.

You heard some rummaging sounds and then, as quickly as he left, Jongho returned, holding a pair of earphones in his right hand.

“Found them,” he said, dropping them into your lap with a smile. “They might not be as good as your old ones, but they should do the trick.”

You felt your cheeks flush as you stared down at the earphones in your lap. “Thanks, Jongho. I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” he said, sitting back down beside you. “So, what have you been listening to lately? Anything good?”

Your heart skipped a beat at his question. Oh no. There it was. The one question you’d been dreading for weeks. Because how on earth were you supposed to casually admit that you’d been listening to his covers on loop every night to fall asleep? How could you even begin to explain that hearing his voice was the only thing that seemed to quiet your restless mind? That every time you saw him, all you could think about was his heavenly voice?

You blinked a few times, scrambling for a response. “Oh, um… you know. Just... nature sounds.”

“Nature sounds?” Jongho raised an eyebrow, trying hard not to let out a sound of disbelief, but his lips slowly turning into a grin betrayed him. “What, like rain and thunderstorms?”

“What? No- I mean yeah, exactly!” You latched onto the excuse, nodding quickly. “The sound of rain hitting the window, thunder rumbling in the distance... It’s, um, super relaxing. You should try it out too!”

Jongho let out a chuckle. “You’re telling me that after all the music recommendations I’ve given you, you’re still just listening to… the weather?”

You squirmed under his amused gaze, feeling like you were digging yourself deeper into a hole you no longer could escape. “I mean, who doesn’t love a good rainstorm? It’s... very atmospheric.”

He tilted his head, his smirk widening. “You’re not secretly listening to those white noise apps, are you? The ones with whale sounds and stuff?”

You bit your lip, feeling your face heat up even more. “Okay, fine, you caught me. It’s... whale noises. That’s my secret. I’m a whale sound enthusiast. Go whales… or something like that.”

Jongho’s laughter filled the room, his shoulders shaking as he leaned back on the couch. “Oh my god, I did not see that coming. When you talk with our fellow students about music you always have such an exquisite taste.”

“Don’t judge me!” you whined, though you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “Whale songs are actually very calming, okay? Very... melodic.”

“I’m not judging,” he said, but his smirk told another story, “Just... surprised, that’s all.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, quickly hiding under the covers and putting your newly gifted earphones in your ear.

For a while, nothing but silence lingered between you two.

And while you were finally close to him, not just physically, something dimmed the sheer happiness you should be feeling right now. After weeks of wanting this - an evening alone, just the two of you, with no distractions - here he finally was, so close you could feel the warmth radiating from him. His relaxed smile and the easy way he stretched out on the couch, clearly comfortable around you, made you weak in the knees. You wanted to keep talking, keep him here just a little longer. But another, more pressing urge that you could no longer suppress tugged at you too: the desperate need for sleep.

Again, you glanced down at the earphones he’d handed you, feeling your face heat up at the thought. You knew they’d bring you some relief, and, well… they’d help you finally drift off. But the problem was, you didn’t want him to know just what you’d be listening to. Jongho had given you endless music recommendations over the past few months, and each time, you’d nodded along and pretended to take notes. Yet every night, without fail, you’d go back to his voice - the gentle, captivating sound of his covers that somehow eased every last worry from your mind.

But listening to them now, with him here, just felt… impossible. What if he caught on? Or worse, what if he asked what you were listening to again? You’d already given him the whale-song excuse, and he seemed to find it hilarious. But if he pressed further, if he somehow guessed the truth, you didn’t know how you’d face him.

Would he find it… weird? Perhaps even creepy how obsessed you were with him?

You took a deep breath before turning your gaze back to him. Jongho glanced at you, a playful smile still lingering on his lips as he reclined back against the couch.

“Honestly,” he said, “it’s good to finally just sit and do nothing for once. Feels like it's been ages since we could hang out without something due the next day.”

You let out a sigh of relief, nodding along. “Yeah, really… It’s kind of like I’ve forgotten what ‘free time’ is supposed to feel like.”

He leaned his head back, stretching his arms out with a relaxed sigh. His shirt rose up a little, exposing just the tiniest amount of skin, and you almost went feral.

Almost.

Thank god you had a good poker face.

“Well, now that we’re free… I hope you’ll be up for some movie nights or coffee runs together. You know, normal human activities,” he said with a slight grin. “We might finally have time for them now.”

You bit your lip, trying not to appear too eager. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

“...Maybe we could even plan a trip somewhere fun. Like a quick weekend thing—hey, are you falling asleep on me?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he noticed your head beginning to droop.

You blinked, trying to fight it off, but the weariness was impossible to ignore. “N-no, I’m still here,” you mumbled, barely coherent.

“Tell me something,” he suddenly said.

“Hm? Like… a sudden deep talk?”

He shook his head. “No, something funny. Something you've never told anyone before.”

You blinked, still caught in that dreamy, half-asleep haze, but his question pulled you back a bit, sparking a soft laugh. “Something I’ve never told anyone?” you murmured, glancing up at him, your mind trying to pull together something coherent.

He nodded, giving you an expectant look, waiting expectantly for your answer.

“Alright,” you said, after pulling something out of your memories. “So, you know the song Falling Like the Stars by James Arthur?”

He raised an eyebrow, chuckling as he nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

“Well…” You cleared your throat, fighting off the urge to blush. “There was a point where I listened to it… let’s just say, an embarrassingly high number of minutes. Like… 4,400 minutes. Just that song. On repeat.”

His eyes widened, and he stared at you in disbelief. “4,400 minutes?!” He laughed, shaking his head. “Are you serious? You listened to the same song for what… almost three days?”

“Don’t do the math!” you groaned, burying your face in your hands as he laughed even harder, his whole body practically shaking. “It’s not like it was all at once! It was spread out over months… I think.”

He grinned, clearly amused. “Alright, alright, I’ll give you that. But I have to know - why that song? What’s the obsession?”

You hesitated, looking away, unsure if you could say it outright. Because it made me think of you, you wanted to admit. But there was no way you could say that.

Because… wasn't it still too early?

Though you knew - or well, hoped - that there was something, anything, between you, it all felt too fast.

But maybe even that was just your insecurities speaking again.

“It… just helped me feel calm,” you finally said, settling on something true yet safe. “Like, I could close my eyes and forget everything for a few minutes. It felt… peaceful, I guess. I really needed this at that time.”

Jongho’s expression softened immediately “I get it,” he murmured. “Music can do that. It’s like… sometimes, you just need a sound that's just for you.” He glanced at you, his expression thoughtful. “I’m glad this was your song.”

“My song…,” you mumbled.

His words made your heart flutter, but your tired mind could no longer keep up. Your eyelids felt impossibly heavy, and you could barely keep yourself upright. You didn’t even realize you’d started to lean on him until you felt his shoulder beneath your cheek.

“You really are falling asleep on me, aren’t you?” he asked softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You grumbled something unintelligible, too far gone to form words. But as you drifted off, you felt his arm settle around you, warm and steady just like his whole persona, holding you close. The last thing you heard was his soft chuckle and a quiet, barely-there murmur that made your heart race, even in sleep.

“May you dream of the happiest melody, Y/N.”

And you did. Along with his beautiful, beautiful voice.

“Damn, it’s quiet in here today,” you mumbled, glancing around the mostly empty restaurant as you slid into the booth across from Wooyoung, San, and Yunho.

“Probably because everyone else is buried in textbooks,” Yunho said with a sigh, rubbing his tired eyes. “These exams are no joke.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes dramatically. “Speak for yourself. I’m practically living at the library these days. I didn’t sign up for this level of suffering.”

San nodded, looking equally exhausted. “Same here. Every time I close my eyes, I just see formulas. It’s like they’re burned into my brain. At times I feel like I can even smell them.”

“-How the fuck do formulas smell man?!”

You chuckled, trying not to let the mention of exams raise your own stress levels again. Life was horrible, really. After just finishing a big assignment you only got such little free time with Jongho before being thrown into the next stressful time period. “Don’t worry, guys. Spring break is just around the corner. We just have to survive a little longer.”

Wooyoung smirked, leaning forward with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, but by the way, I don’t see you here with Jongho today. What happened? Couldn’t convince your pookie bear to take a break with you?”

You felt your cheeks flush as they all stared at you shamelessly, clearly enjoying your reaction. “He’s just busy with his study group, that’s all. Unlike you guys, he actually does something for his grades without complaining every five minutes.”

Yunho snickered. “Well, then he’s missing out. At least we make it fun.”

San grinned. “Honestly, though, you two do seem to be spending a lot of time together lately. Practically glued at the hip. When are you finally going to confess?”

Your face heated up instantly, and you felt your mouth go dry at San’s question. “W-What? Confess? What are you talking about?” You tried to laugh it off, waving your hand dismissively, but the guys weren’t buying it.

Wooyoung gasped, leaning in closer with a smirk. “Oh my god, you haven’t told him, have you? You’re seriously killing me here! It’s so obvious to everyone else I'm wondering how he hasn't realized it himself yet.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks reddening immediately betrayed you. “It’s not like that, okay? Jongho and I are just...we’re just friends who happen to enjoy spending time together. That’s all.”

Yunho scoffed playfully. “Yeah, right. Just friends. You realize that whenever he’s around, you can’t take your eyes off him, right? You’re not exactly subtle.”

San nudged Wooyoung beside him with his elbow, grinning. “And Jongho? He lights up every time you’re nearby. I've never seen him smile like that!”

“Well maybe that's because you don't know him that well-”

“-Y/N!”

You buried your face in your hands, feeling equal parts embarrassment and frustration. “Can we please not talk about this right now? Seriously, I came here to relax, not to get grilled on my nonexistent love life.”

Wooyoung chuckled, patting your hand reassuringly. Though you sensed he had a lot more to say, he seemed to take mercy on you. “Alright, alright, we’ll stop - for now. But mark my words, if you don’t make a move soon, we’re staging an intervention. It's slowly driving me insane.”

“Alright, so spring break - any plans?” you asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from any more embarrassing teasing.

Yunho perked up immediately. “Yes! Beach trip. I’m craving some sun and waves, honestly.”

“Count me in,” San said, leaning back with a grin. “But none of that hiking or early morning stuff. Or the others will surely complain again.”

They all laughed, nodding in agreement, and the conversation drifted into a comfortable, lighthearted debate over the best spots to visit and various activities to squeeze in. But as they threw out endless ideas, you couldn’t help but think about Jongho, wishing he could join you guys for spring break. The thought of him laughing and unwinding together with the group you deemed family, tugged at your heart. But you weren’t sure if he’d be up for it.

There was a good chance he’d already have plans with his family or his own circle of friends. You weren’t sure he’d be into the idea of tagging along with your friends. After all, he might still choose a quiet week with his family.

Lost in thought, you didn't realize you'd gone quiet until Yunho carefully nudged you. "Earth to Y/N? Thinking about someone in particular you’d like to invite?" His eyes sparkled with that all-too-familiar mischief.

You felt your face heat up again. "W-What? No, I was just thinking it'd be nice to get everyone together, you know? All of us, no stress...and, well, maybe if I were to ask Jongho, it'd be good to have a plan.”

Wooyoung threw his head back in exasperation. "Ugh, I swear if you don’t invite him, we’re doing it for you."

“Fine, fine,” you said, chuckling. “If we can all figure out what we’re doing, maybe I’ll bring it up to him. No promises, though.”

San smirked. “That's all we needed to hear. We'll take care of the rest.”

Just as you all finally settled into comfortable silence, the server arrived with your food, and everyone’s attention quickly turned to the plates being set down. It was exactly what you all needed: comforting, warm, and ever so tasty. For the first few minutes, the only sounds were forks and spoons clinking against plates and contented sighs as each of you dug in.

“Damn, this place always hits the spot,” San mumbled through a mouthful, already reaching for another helping. You just laughed as all of them devoured their plates like animals. “I swear, it’s the only good thing that’s happened all week.”

Yunho nodded, still chewing. “Honestly, if we just survive this semester, we should come back and order everything on the menu to celebrate.”

You agreed, mumbling something no one could understand as you immediately took another bite. The food was too good, and, for a while, everyone focused on just enjoying their meals. Conversations drifted between lighthearted topics - TV shows everyone was watching, the latest music releases, funny memes on TikTok - until finally, you all started to slow down, plates empty and stomachs full.

Leaning back, you stretched a little, rubbing your belly satisfied. “I’m going to hit the restroom before we head out. I’ll meet you guys outside?”

The guys nodded, already beginning to gather their things after paying for the meal. As you slid out of the booth and walked away, you heard Wooyoung’s voice echo teasingly, “Don’t take too long, Y/N! I still want to go and check out that new store at the end of the street!”

You just shook your head, smiling to yourself as you headed down the hall. By the time you returned to the entrance, they were all waiting, bundled up and leaning casually against the doorway.

As you stepped out of the restaurant, you took out your phone, scrolling absentmindedly to catch up on a few missed notifications. A few messages from your friends, Amazon telling you one of the items you want was on sale and so on. The guys were walking just ahead of you, laughing about something Wooyoung had said, and for a moment, you fell behind, trying to type while still watching the road ahead of you.

But then something made you stop short, your thumb frozen mid-swipe.

Right there, on Jongho’s cover account, was a new post - one you weren’t expecting. The title stopped your heart: “Falling Like the Stars.”

You paused, thumb hovering over the screen as your heart thundered in your chest. Jongho had posted this song - your song. The one you’d told him about so excitedly, just a few nights ago, when he asked you about something you never told anyone before. You could practically hear your own words echoing back at you: “It… just helped me feel calm.”

He’d listened. Jongho had actually listened - and not only remembered but went so far as to cover the song himself.

The others had started walking ahead, their voices mingling with the busy sounds of everyday life around you as they headed toward the shop Wooyoung wanted to visit. But you couldn’t move. You couldn’t tear your eyes from the screen, where Jongho’s cover account stared back at you.

And at that very moment, you knew.

You knew that he knew.

“Y/N?”

You looked up, the boys having stopped in their tracks and looking at you with confusion written all over their faces.

“I- yeah. I’m… I’m fine, I just…” Words failed you as you looked at each of their faces, one by one, not knowing how to act, what to say, what to do.

You tried to stammer out an excuse, barely piecing together a coherent thought as your mind raced. “I’m sorry, guys. I just- there’s something I have to do. Right now. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?” The words tumbled out, rushed and a little breathless, as if you didn’t say them now, you’d lose the nerve.

And you felt like you really might.

“Look,” you said, “I just… I need to go. I’ll text you later!”

Without waiting, you turned on your heel, your legs already moving before you’d fully registered what the fuck you were doing.

You barely noticed the familiar streets flying by as you sprinted the few blocks to your shared flat with Jongho. Heart pounding, half from the run and half from the thrill of what lay ahead, you finally rounded the last corner and saw the front of the building come into view.

By the time you reached your door, you were completely out of breath but determined, fumbling with your keys until the lock finally clicked. You pushed the door open, chest heaving, and there he was - sitting at the small dining table, headphones on, leaning over a notebook. He looked up, startled at the sound of the door, eyes widening as he saw you standing there, still desperately catching your breath.

“Y/N?” He pulled his headphones down, brow furrowed. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“S-since when did you know, Choi Jongho?!”

For a second, he remained completely silent. Even his body stopped moving, and he just… looked at you.

And you looked at him.

It was as if time was frozen still.

He slowly shifted in his chair, setting the headphones aside as he leaned forward, elbows resting on the table.

“It was… when you fell asleep on me,” he began, his voice steady despite the tension hanging in the air. “I carried you to your room, and when I was putting you down, I saw my account open on your laptop.”

His gaze held yours, a flicker of something sincere reflecting in his eyes. “That’s when I knew. And that’s when I decided to post that cover.”

“I-” You suddenly felt the urgent need to defend yourself. And so, with cheeks as red as your favourite type of flowers, you hastily said: “Please don't think I'm obsessed with you or something! I-i seriously didn't know for a long while and- God, this is so awkward- a-and I didn't even mean to find it! If you think I stalked you, I can assure you I really-”

“Y/N-”

“No Jongho, seriously let me explai-”

Before you could even realize what happened, Jongho had already closed the distance between you and was now standing in front of you, tall and strong and commanding, with a look in his eyes that made your heart skip and your knees weak. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and then, without a warning, his lips were one yours, and you were melting away in his arms.

Your mouth willingly opened to his, and your tongues met for the briefest instance before he pulled away, panting and looking at you like a meal he wanted to devour.

“I like you, Y/N,” he said, voice husky and filled with a primal need that mirrored your own. “And I'm honored you like my covers this much. Seriously, I- how could you ever think I'd be creeped out? You've done nothing wrong, silly woman.”

He chuckled, and it made all the tension in your body disappear, and you couldn't help but to hide your face behind your hands and laugh along with him.

Without breaking eye contact, he slowly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace. You melted against him, his strong body completely enveloping you. You inhaled deeply, letting the familiar scent of him wash over you - something musky yet sweet, with a hint of laundry detergent.

He laid his head atop yours, his hands slowly finding a protective place on your hips. You both stood in silence for a moment, the world outside completely fading away. You could hear the soft thud of his heart, steady and reassuring, syncing with your own rapid beats.

“Y/N…” he murmured softly, breaking the peaceful silence after a while. “You know… I actually wanted to quit that account for a while now.” The sudden shift in his tone caught your attention, and you looked up, surprised.

“Why?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re so talented. You shouldn’t give up on something you love.”

He sighed, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye, his expression serious. “It just… it felt like no one cared. I was starting to think that maybe my covers weren’t good enough. But then I found out you listened to it, and… and it made me realize that maybe not a lot of people might listen, but at least you are.”

Your fingers gently cradled Jongho's face, your thumbs brushing along his cheeks, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. You couldn't help but smile at him, your heart swelling with affection. “You have no idea how much I love your voice,” you said softly. “It’s the only thing that helps me fall asleep at night. I’d listen to your covers over and over again, and they’d calm my racing thoughts. I- I fell for you even before we became roommates, you know? I saw you on campus with your friends, in class and… I… it hit me so fast and hard. And then we became roommates, and then-”

“Psst,” he laid a finger over your lips, and you looked up at him, confused, “You talk too much, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and husky. “When we could be doing this instead.” With that, he moved his hand, sliding it down the curve of your back, making you arch into his touch involuntarily.

In one swift motion, Jongho lifted you off your feet, his strong arms wrapping around you like a steel cage. You let out a startled laugh, quickly turning into a moan as you felt his hard body pressed against yours. Instinctively, you locked your legs around his waist, your arms snaking around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

His lips crashed down on yours, hungry and demanding. Jongho devoured your mouth, his tongue sweeping inside, tangling with yours in a heated dance. You could taste the hint of mint from his toothpaste, mixed with the unique flavor that was purely Jongho. It was a taste you craved for months now, and you eagerly responded, matching his hunger.

Pulling back slightly, he teased your lips, nibbling gently on your top lip before sucking it into his warm mouth. You whimpered, feeling the sensitivity of your lips as he lavished attention on them. His tongue traced the outline of it, making you shiver as he repeated the action on your bottom lip.

“God, I love your lips,” he breathed against your mouth, his voice hoarse with desire. “So soft and responsive.”

You giggled, a little breathless, as he continued to pepper kisses along your jawline, nipping and sucking gently. “I love your mouth too, Jongho,” you managed to say between kisses. “And your voice... it drives me wild.”

He chuckled, the vibration of his laughter tickling your skin. “Oh, I know, baby. But… you haven't heard anything yet, baby.”

With that, he set you down gently, his hands roaming over your body, mapping every curve and dip. He worshipped your body with his touch, his fingers trailing fire along your skin. He unbuttoned your blouse slowly, revealing your lace bra, and you shivered as his fingertips brushed against your exposed skin.

“Fuck, you're so beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes dark with desire. “I want to touch every inch of you.”

You reached for the hem of his shirt, eager to explore his body as well. As you pulled it over his head, your breath caught at the sight of his strong chest and arms. His skin was warm and smooth, and you couldn't resist running your hands over his muscular frame.

“Feel how hard you make me,” he groaned, stopping your exploring hands and instead guiding them to the prominent bulge in his pants. You gasped at the size of his erection, feeling the length and thickness through the fabric. “I've been waiting to be inside you, Y/N. To feel your tight pussy around my cock.”

Your core clenched at his words, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan. “I want that too, Jongho,” you whispered,”I- ah, I want to feel you, all of you.”

He wasted no time in removing your clothes, his skilled hands efficiently unfastening your bra and sliding off your pants. Soon, you were both naked, standing in the middle of the room, desire burning in both your eyes.

Jongho's hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, making you arch into his touch. “Ah I see, my girl likes when I play with her nipples, doesn't she?” he whispered, his breath hot in your ear. “Tell me what you want, Y/N.”

“I-I want you," you panted, reaching down to stroke his rigid length. “I want to feel you inside me, to ride you, to taste you…”

He groaned, his body trembling at your touch. “Then take me, baby. Show me how much you want me.”

Guiding you to the bed, he laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours. He kissed you deeply, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of the passionate dance you already took earlier.

Straddling his hips, you positioned yourself above his throbbing cock, feeling the head nudge against your wet entrance. And then, slowly, you sank down, taking him inch by agonizing inch, your inner walls stretching to accommodate his impressive size.

“Oh, fuck,” Jongho hissed, his hands gripping your hips as you descended. “You're so tight, Y/N. So wet and hot.”

You moaned, feeling incredibly full as you took him all the way inside. You sat still for a moment, adjusting to the sensation of being completely impaled on his thick shaft.

“Move, Y/N,” he urged, his voice strained. “Fucking ride me, baby.”

You began to move, slowly at first, rising and falling, taking him in and out of your heated core. As you picked up the pace, Jongho's hands roamed over your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples, and leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake.

“That's it, baby,” he growled, his eyes fixed on where your bodies joined. “Fuck, you look so sexy riding me.”

His words spurred you on, and you quickened your movements, your hips rolling as you rode him as hard as you possibly could. The room filled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, your moans, and Jongho's husky encouragements.

“That's it, take all of me,” he grunted, his hands gripping your thighs, guiding your movements. “You're so tight around my cock, Y/N. I'm gonna come so hard inside you.”

Your body was on fire, every nerve ending alive with pleasure. You leaned forward, your hands bracing against his chest as you quickened your pace, driving him deeper with each thrust.

“Yes, Y/N, just like that,” he groaned, his hips rising to meet your downward strokes. “Fuck, you're so tight,” he panted, sweat glistening on his forehead. “I can feel every inch of you squeezing me. You're gonna make me cum so hard.”

You could feel the pressure building in your core, the pleasure mounting with each and every thrust. Your body trembled, your muscles clenching around his thick shaft as you rode him with abandon. The sensation was overwhelming, almost making you drown in it entirely.

“Jongho, I'm so close,” you gasped, your voice breaking, “I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-”

“Yes, baby, cum for me,” he urged, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples. “Let me feel you cum around my cock. Let me feel you milking me dry.”

The sensation of his fingers on your nipples was the final push you needed. Your body tensed, your vision blurring as the orgasm ripped through you, wave after wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you. You screamed his name, your voice echoing in the room as your inner muscles clamped down on his shaft, milking him with desperate, rhythmic pulses.

“Jongho! Oh, God, Jongho!”

He groaned in response, his body shuddering as he came, his cock pulsing deep inside you. His hands tightened on your breasts, his nails digging into your skin as he spilled his release, filling you with hot, thick spurts of his seed.

You collapsed onto his chest, your body trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. His arms wrapped securely around you, holding you close as he panted, his heart pounding against your ear.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “You're incredible. I've never felt anything like that.”

You nuzzled into his neck, your breath warm against his skin. “Neither have I,” you murmured, “That was... amazing.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “We're not done yet, baby,” he said and you lifted your head, meeting his gaze with a playful smile. “Oh, really?” you asked, your voice dripping with anticipation. “What do you have in mind?”

A low chuckle escaped him. “You see… for that, you might have to cancel any plans you might have for the upcoming spring break, because in no fucking world am I gonna let you leave this goddamn apartment before I haven't tried every position that exists out there.”

You feigned a pout, placing a hand over your heart in mock despair. “Oh no, what will I tell the boys?”

“I'll make sure to come up with a very, very believable excuse for them, baby.”

511 notes · View notes

myth1cs · 6 months ago

Text

Danger Zone (Park Jihyo x M!Reader)

One last smut to end the month of October. (I'm sorry) Words: 2,266

"There is a serial killer loose in the area. Officials warn to not to travel out at night alone."

"Do you really believe this Y/N?"

"Well yeah this seems pretty serious. I mean people have been found dead with three scars on their backs and missing their heads. I don't think this is something we should take lightly."

"Oh Y/N you trust the news too much. Trust me they're probably just over exaggerating just so they can get more views."

I sighed as I went back to work. I didn't understand how Jihyo could be so calm about this.

There is a suspected serial killer roaming out in the area. They don't seem to have set victims in mind as they have all ranged from young to old, female and male.

I always lived by "If your paranoid your safer." So when local news stations started reporting that there could be a serial killer in the area I started carrying pepper spray and a pocket knife with me.

Mostly everyone I know hasn't been taking this siturstation seriously as I have. Sure some people are worried but it feels like I'm the only one trying to take precautions.

It was now late at night and I was finishing up my work. Until suddenly I heard someone walk in the room.

"Y/N, Jihyo work is over, care to join me for drinks?" I looked up and saw our manager Myoui Mina walk into the room.

"I don't mind, how about you Y/N?" Jihyo looked at me with a smile. I wanted to say no but the thought of making Jihyo upset by saying no made me agree to it.

"I have nothing better to do so I guess I can go."

The bar wasn't too far from our work place so we walked to it. The bar was mostly full at this hour but we managed to find seats at the corner of the bar.

After we ordered our drinks we started up a conversation.

"So have you guys heard of this alleged serial killer in the area?" Mina asked while scrolling on her phone.

"Yeah we've heard. Especially Y/N he's super paranoid about the situation." Jihyo said in a tone that felt like it was supposed to mock me.

"I am not THAT paranoid." I tried to defend myself but Jihyo wasn't having it.

"Oh yeah? You told me you got a second lock on your house and bedroom door in case someone tried to break in."

"Well I'm just trying to stay safe."

"We can tell Y/N. Are you sure you don't want to get metal bars for your windows just in case the serial killer tries to break your windows?"

"Jihyo thats-"

"It was just a simple question, stop arguing like little kids." Mina interrupted me before I could finish my sentence.

We dropped the argument and we stayed in silence throughout our stay in the bar.

After we finished our drinks we left the bar and Mina bid her farewells.

"Well I guess I'll see you tomorrow Jihyo." But before I could turn around Jihyo spoke up.

"Y/N can you walk me to my home today?"

"Why?"

"Well I've been thinking and I think you're right. Now I'm kind of scared that the serial killer will come and get me while I'm going home. So can you walk with me?"

I was surprised as Jihyo wasn't the type to admit she was wrong. She was quite a stubborn person so to see her change up was shocking.

"I can walk you home Jihyo, come on let's go."

"Can you hold my hand until we get their?"

My face felt hot when she said that. I was slightly attracted to Jihyo and she was giving me a chance to hold hands with her. I couldn't say no.

I grabbed Jihyo's hand and we walked to her house. On the way I looked behind us every now and then to make sure we weren't being followed.

Eventually we reached her house and I let go of Jihyo's hand.

"Well we're here."

"Actually Y/N can you stay with me for the night?"

I gasped at Jihyo's request. I couldn't believe the same girl I was interested in was asking me to stay at her house.

"Yes I can." I said with probably more excitement than needed.

As I walked into Jihyo's house I noticed how pretty everything looked. Her decorations and the whole color pallet looked well put together and I couldn't help but admire the work Jihyo put into her house.

Y/N since I don't have a second bedroom so we'll be sleeping in the same bed if that's okay with you.

When Jihyo said that I felt my cock go slightly hard. I couldn't believe Jihyo just invited me to sleep in the same bed as her.

"That's fine by me." Jihyo smiled when I said that and she led me to her bedroom.

"This is my bedroom Y/N, you can change into my spare clothes in my drawer. I'll be back after I finish brushing my teeth."

Jihyo left the room leaving me alone in her bedroom. I took off my clothes and opened her drawer.

I grabbed the clothes that I thought would fit me the best and put it on. But I noticed a strange smell coming from Jihyo's closet.

I opened it but I couldn't find where the source was coming from. It smelt like it was from below me so I started looking at the floor of the closet. I noticed there was a small piece of the flooring that looked loose so I gave it a hard push.

The piece fell down but what I saw shocked me. I saw many decapitated heads. All of them looked like the people who were killed.

Jihyo was the serial killer that was being reported on by the news. I quickly went to grab my phone to take a picture for evidence but when I turned around I saw Jihyo standing at the door frame.

"Well Y/N I looks like you saw something you shouldn't have." Jihyo said with her voice sounding predatory.

I was too scared to move and Jihyo started to slowly walk to me. My pepper spray and pocket knife were in my original clothes and I was too scared to try to make a run to grab it.

Was I really going to die?

"But I'll give you a chance to make it right."

I looked at Jihyo with nothing but fear in my eyes as I knew one wrong move could be the end of me.

"Get on the bed." Jihyo said. The way she said it felt more like an order.

I got on the bed and laid down. Jihyo reached under her bed and pulled out a large knife.

Jihyo started to take the clothes off me and I could do nothing but watch.

When she finally took off my clothes she licked her lips "Well you certainly are my most attractive victim."

I blushed at Jihyo's words which caused her to start laughing.

"You like it when I compliment you?" Jihyo asked and I responded to her with a nod.

"Here's the deal Y/N. I only kill people for gratification but now that I've seen how sexy you look. I feel like you can give me a better gratification than even murder can. So if you fuck me good enough then I won't kill you."

"So my life depends solely on whether I can fuck you well enough?"

"That's right Y/N."

Jihyo leaned down to my ear and whispered.

"So fuck me good Y/N cause your life depends on it. There won't be a second chance."

When she said that she started to take her clothes off.

While she was taking her clothes off I had and idea. It was probably dumb but I had to go for it.

I quickly took the few short moments that she was distracted taking her clothes off to try to get the knife from her.

Jihyo seemed caught off guard and we engaged in a fight. We were both getting cut by the knife in our fight but neither of us got cut deep enough that we would die from it.

In the skirmish I managed to align my cock to Jihyo's pussy and I quickly penetrated Jihyo which resulted in a yelp from her and made her loose focus for long enough for me to grab the knife from her.

Jihyo collapsed on the bed and looked surprised I managed to take her knife away and tried fighting back but I started to speed up my thrust.

Jihyo started moaning loudly and I started to finish taking off Jihyo's shirt.

When I took her shirt off I notices her big tits that were being restrained by her bra.

Jihyo knew what I wanted to do and started to unhook her bra herself.

When she did her big tits bounced free from their restraints and I put one of her nipples in my mouth while holding the knife up to her throat to make sure she doesn't try anything.

Jihyo's moans grew louder and I alternated between both her nipples to make sure that both got the attention they deserved.

Jihyo tried to grab the knife back but I thrusted as deep into Jihyo as I could and that made her stop. I went back to quickly thrusting in and out of Jihyo but I knew I was about to cum soon.

I put my free hand on Jihyo's boob and began squeezing it.

"Y/N fuck!" Jihyo screamed as her pussy began to tighten around my cock. She was also about to cum.

I sped up my pace and we both ended up cumming together.

I let out a big load into Jihyo and was exhausted. But Jihyo wasn't.

Jihyo took her chance and grabbed the knife away from me and pushed me onto the bed and sat on top of me.

"Why didn't you run away or kill me when you got the knife from me?"

"Jihyo I just really wanted to fuck you." I said exhaustedly. If Jihyo tried fighting me now I was screwed.

"Well luckily for you Y/N you gave the best sex I've ever had. So I won't kill you but I can't let you go just yet. You must learn your lesson for taking my knife away from me."

Jihyo threw her knife across the room and started to give me a boob job.

I was still sensitive and I started to moan like crazy. Jihyo wan't going slow either she was going fast.

"Jihyo slow down I can't keep up." I pleaded at Jihyo but she had other plans.

"You should of thought of that before you took my knife away from me now you must pay."

I felt my cock twitching and I knew I was going to cum for a second time.

"Jihyo I'm cumming!" I screamed as I came all over Jihyo's boobs.

I was tired, sweaty, and sore. I couldn't go any longer but Jihyo didn't seem to care.

"Y/N you haven't learned your lesson yet." She grabbed my cock and started pumping. My cock got hard again which made Jihyo happy.

Jihyo started to deep throat my cock. My cock hit the back of her throat and she tried her best to not gag. My cock was getting covered in Jihyo's spit.

I was still sensitive and it didn't take long for me to leave a big load in Jihyo's mouth.

"Mmh your cum tastes good Y/N. You'll have to give some everyday before we go to work."

I groaned, as much as I loved Jihyo I couldn't keep up with her sex drive and I just wanted to sleep.

"Jihyo can I sleep yet?"

"Not yet Y/N we're going for another round."

"Jihyo your my nightmare." I groaned but Jihyo didn't care about what I had to say.

Jihyo sat on my cock and started bouncing on it. As tired as I was I admired the view of seeing Jihyo's big boobs bounce while Jihyo was riding my cock.

I reached up and held onto Jihyo's boobs while she was riding me which resulted in a smile forming on her face.

After some intense riding from Jihyo I came inside of Jihyo's pussy for a second time.

Jihyo rested on top of me and I felt her big boobs weight on my chest which got me hard again.

"You can go to sleep now."

When Jihyo said that I immediately fell asleep.

Next morning I woke up by the sounds of slurping.

I saw Jihyo was sucking my cock. Her tits were still covered in cum from last night.

"Jihyo why haven't taken a shower yet?"

"I told you that you needed to feed me a your cum every morning."

"Jihyo what now? I mean I know your true identity now."

"Well you love me right Y/N?"

"Yeah I love you Jihyo."

"Then let's make a deal that benefits the both of us."

"I'm listening."

"In exchange for you not reporting me to the police I'll have sex with you whenever you want."

"Whenever I want?."

Jihyo nodded. I smiled already fantasizing of all the places I wanted to have sex with her.

"I agree."

Jihyo smiled and went back to sucking my cock.

Dating a serial killer was going to be weird.

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

The title "Danger Zone" is a reference to something.

If someone actually figures it out I'll give them a smut commission on whatever plot and idol they want. (As long as it isn't weird)

(I'm only doing this because nobody commented on the "Room 304" reference like I literally made it 304 for a reason. Why didn't anybody get the reference? Like what the fu-)

Anyways I promise I'll change it up to another Kpop girl group idol next time.

#twice x reader #twice #smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #twice smut #twice ff #twice imagines #jihyo #jihyo smut #twice x male reader

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siddyyyyyyyy · 7 months ago

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OHH okay! Thank you for answering my question! Then, if you can, how would bat boys(or kyle lol) flirting with Mc, who at the end of the convo reveals that they have a kid(like 5yo) and would completely understand if they didn't wanted to take this further?

OR! OR OR OROR-

Imagine Mc is Bruce's daughter who was not involved in bat business and went abroad, hiding from the media with their partner, living their best life when all of the sudden, batfam visits and they both look at Mc and the baby in their arms and everyone's like "WDYM YOU HAVE A BABY AND WE NEVER KNEW- WDYM IT'S BEEN 3 MONTHS???" (basically the case that, you never showed the sighs of Pregnant went to labor and suddenly you have a kid you didn't even know existed til last minute. And in your panic and stress forgot to inform them but this is just what I think would happen you don't have to use it lol)

you don't have to do this lol, ty for taking time to read this<3 HAVE A GREAT DQYY!!

BATBOYS REACTING TO YOU HAVING A KID

pairing: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake x Reader (seperated) summary: Batboys flirt with you until they realise you have a small child warnings: none a/n: I didn't put Damian Wayne in here, I thought it felt a bit off, so I added Bruce to it! Thank you for the request, I chose the first option you described, but I'll maybe consider writing something for the second option. This is a little different from my usual format, but I made sure this still looks pretty and can be understandable. Thank you again and also have a great day!!!

BRUCE WAYNE

He saw you before, once, when he was Damian's dog out for a walk at the park nearby. At first, he didn't plan on flirting with you when Titus walked over and sniffed at your bag.

At first he was afraid you'd get scared when a Great Dane came your way and curiously sniffed at your handbag, but you didn't budge a muscle at him.

So, of course, Bruce came over to pick up the dog and hopefully not make you freak out. With a light jog, he quickly put the leash back on Titus, already looking sheepish at the situation.

"Sorry about him, he didn't scare you, did he?", but you seemed even amused at this. Maybe he underestimated you.

Soon enough, you got into a conversation, petted Titus gently, becoming even more fund of this big animal.

Bruce sat down beside you on the bench and kept talking to you, thinking you have a charming and kind personality. He'd be damned soon enough, he knows it.

That's how he started flirting with you; it started with subtle compliments until he couldn't help himself anymore. His nice words became progressively more direct, but still respectful as ever. All in all, he was sure he already got your heart.

That was until a small kid came up to you with a big smile, hands a bit dirty from the playing in the mud. That small human couldn't be older than five years old. He was confused for a moment as he watched the interaction between the two of you, eventually realising that is your kid.

God, he felt guilty. You were probably happily married with someone way better than him and just kept up with his flirting so you wouldn't come off as rude. Once the child went back to playing with the other group of kids on the playground, he tried his best to keep his embarrassment aside.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you had a kid. Well... I have four of my own, so..." He really doesn't know what to say. But you still remain kind and sweet, even though he was shamelessly flirting wtih you a second ago.

With a kind smile, you wave him off; "Oh, don't you worry. It was nice talking to you anyway. And you have kids of your own? How old are they?"

And that's how he continued talking to you, getting back to good terms and his embarrassment long forgotten. Seems like you both do have more in common than it seemed. Bruce couldn't be more happy than to keep talking to you and spend time, but you eventually parted ways after a longer while, with each other's phone numbers exchanged.

DICK GRAYSON

He was out with Damian to get ice cream when he saw you in the line, hoping he can get some quick excuse to talk with you alone. Yeah, Damian will annoy him for days about it and tell on him, but who cares? That's a one chance oppurtunity he's got there and he will use it.

Dick got Damian away by getting him into a cool book and supply store nearby, making his own way to you.

He didn't want to come off as too desperate or obvious, 'accidently' cutting you in line so he can strike a conversation with you in that way. You responded kindly to his small accident, waving him off politely.

The conversation started with him introducing himself shortly after, getting to know the basics about each other before he starts basically showering you with compliments. But he was trying to come off as subtle and charming as possible, which came naturally for him.

His light-hearted jokes and loving words seemed to work on you, so he didn't mind keeping this up while getting to know you more. Now with ice cream cones in your hands, you settled onto a table inside the cool shop and continued talking.

You got into more conversation once you sat down together and enjoyed the ice cream together, getting to know the other a little more once he stopped overflowing you with compliments.

But he got a bit confused when you got up to get another portion of ice cream, in a small cup with a sweet waffle in it. Curiously, he just had to ask you about it.

"Another ice cream?" It was more of a mutter to himself, but you still heard it when you sat down across from him again. "Oh, just for my son. He's playing there right now, but he told me to get him some ice cream aswell." You gesture towards the playground next to the ice cream shop, making him search for a small kid that could be yours.

Why didn't he notice earlier? It was so obvious now that he knows, why would someone get ice cream next to a playground anyway? He really tries to not think too much of it and get back on track, but he also didn't want to get into such a situation at all. But of course nothing ever goes his way.

Damian is next to him out of nowhere, asking him to go home. He probably got some books from that store he was just now, judging by the plastic bag in his hand.

"Is that your kid? You guys have the same nose. Cute." You smile sweetly at them, completely unaware of them being brothers. Dick shoots a pleading look to Damian, hoping he'll play along.

"Uh, yeah... that's Damian." Dick chuckles nervously and gets up from the chair, putting his hand on his shoulder. Damian looks more awkward than before, keeping his glare on you.

With the final excuse of Damian being tired, he gets out of the shop and hurries home, ignoring all the questions and annoyed remarks from Damian. He knows he probably should've been more careful, but now he just feels guilty for leaving so quickly and lying.

Eventually, he thought more about the situation. A kid doesn't sound so bad after all. So, without wasting any more time he made his way to the shop again, hoping you'll be there again, even when a few days have passed already.

JASON TODD

In all honesty, he wasn't fond of kids at the start. But it quickly changed when he was patrolling as Red Hood and just had to protect the kids in Crime Alley and at the area where he grew up in.

He met you in the local library, having spotted you at the romance section and he really didn't want to disturb you searching for a book at the moment.

He eventually got his courage and walked to the same section, trying to not come off as intimidating. It didn't work, you almost immediately got to the section next to it to search for... 'children books'? Whatever, he doesn't judge.

Jason tries to ignore you as he searches a book for himself, keeping his eyes on the shelf.

Days have passed and he spots you in the same section more often. It was interesting to him, how you just appeared there out of nowhere a few days back and now he wants to get to know you. Something like this never happened before, maybe he should just ignore it as well.

Finally, he got his courage up and decided to talk to you. With a book of his own in hand, he gets up to you, hoping he won't scare you away or become awkward all of a sudden in front of you.

He asks you about what books you recommend to him in the romance section and he is actually surprised to see how kindly you respond to him. But ignoring the small surprise, he just listens and nods along. Phrases as, "Oh, really? Yeah, I've also heard that one's good.", or "I've read that actually...", and a lot of "Okay, I'll keep that in mind."

He was really sweet to you as well, actually hoping you'll see him here more often whenever you visit the library for more books to read for your kid. And of course, Jason made sure to visit the place more often just to see you and read the books you recommended to him.

Eventually, he got to ask you out for a coffee date. But you declined, explaining you can't leave you kid alone for a longer time and apologise sincerely to him over and over again.

A kid? He was speechless for a moment before his heartbeat speeds up again. What the hell should he do? Is he even allowed to ask you out? After a brief explanation of your situation with your child, he relaxes and feels more hopeful again. In reality, he wants to keep seeing you and meet the kid. He's been told he is good with them after all.

And the day came when you introduced Jason to your daughter. It was a peaceful evening spent at your apartment with you three spending time together with some board games. Your daughter soon grew on him and she was actually more than sad when he had to leave for the night.

So, basically it's hard to tell who Jason is more fond of. Of course he adores you for who you are but your kid is just another ray of sunshine.

TIM DRAKE

Tim rarely got out for his own enjoyment but he is glad he did so that one time, because now he has someone to crush on. As stupid as it sounds, it's also true.

When he first saw you, he didn't think much about it. Just a regular person who also likes comics and other 'nerdy' stuff. But when he saw you reach for the same comic he actually wanted for a longer while, that's when he had to go up to you and talk. Not that he'd do that to every other person, but it seemeed like a good idea at the time.

You were so sweet to him, you even offered to let him have it, but he quickly declined and instead settled on a casual date to show you his collection. But there was this problem...

After a week of texting together and even sharing a few flirty comments, he was sure this could work out. Until you mentioned your son.

At first, he thought you might be joking, but he soon found out that you were honest and he tried to not come off as a total douche since he has no idea about kids.

You both settled on just going for walks for now and you even went with your sweet little kid together. Tim was unsure of the situation and made sure to set boundaries and find out if you even want to keep seeing each other. Of course, for once, whatever God there is, listened to him.

He got more comfortable around your son and found out that most comics are for him. A six-year-old reading comics about aliens and complex alien-politics? Well... he wasn't better at his age.

Soon, they both became really good friends and even better friends with you. Although he was still hesitant to make a move on you.

Either way, he is also happy with just helping you out and being close friends, even when the kid manages to impress him with his immense knoweledge about comics.

←MASTERLIST

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mocchii-writes · 3 months ago

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hey, saw your requests were open. could you do a fic with Jun Ho (squid game) where it's set in the start of the second season and the reader is like friends with choi woo-seok and Jun ho doesn't take her seriously cause she's kind of goofy and a criminal. then during the mission she saves him and shows her strength, and he kinda just falls in love. idk if that's cringe but thanks :)

Ever since I was a kid, I've been legit

Paring: Hwang Jun Ho x fem!reader Summary: Jun Ho thinks you're too unserious for this mission. Words: 850 Warnings: Guns, Swearing, Written on mobile :<

A/n: Hi Anon!! It's not cringe (to me, at least), and I hope I did your req justice, I wasn't entirely sure if I understood it right ♡

~🍡🍡

Choi Woo-Seok's voice comes with a crash on the glass door of the motel bathroom. "Mr. Seong, you can't trust cops!" He says, listening in to the tense conversation between Gi Hun and an officer. You're seen soon after next to him.

"I've never seen cops helping people like us," you say, less urgently but with a firmness in your voice. You hadn't gotten a chance to look at the detective until now, being so busy knocking him out. He was cute. He looked disheveled currently, but you weren't complaining. "You un-cuff him, and he'll cross you as soon as possible." You were hoping you were wrong, but your past didn't fight against your word.

Gi Hun looks back to the cop, and he almost walks away, but they continue talking. You groan dramatically and turn to the messy room before you. Eventually, they emerge with peace, and you all set off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later, some ex-military men had been gathered, and you and they were trying out the weapons Mr. Seong had acquired. Woo-Seok is introducing them all, and then he gets to you.

"She... She's good with guns! She's got a criminal record and -" He groans as he feels an elbow to his ribcage as you laugh.

"And he's just an ex-cop," you tilt your head to Jun Ho, feeling his disapproving gaze when you turn back to your target, laughing.

You later pause and listen to the 3 of them discuss entering the club on Halloween. "I can go with you," you say, "into the club?" Seong looks at you for a minute, and then another voice is heard.

"I'll go with you." Jun Ho says, breaking the silence. "She probably can't handle herself, let alone a guard." He says. You scoff and look elsewhere.

"Neither of you are coming," Gi Hun says, "The guards have seen you before. They might recognize you." He looks to Jun Ho, who looks a little disappointed. "You… I just think you would be more useful outside." He says to you, trying to be nice. You roll your eyes as you continue shooting with precise aim.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night of the meet-up, you 4 sit in the car as Mr. Seong and Woo-Seok leave for the club. Silence follows, and you and Jun Ho avoid conversation. Luckily, Woo-Seok's voice is heard, checking the tracker and earpiece.

You both soak into the quiet again, but you soon see 3 guards outside the club. You look to Jun Ho, who is already looking at the guards. He tries to contact Mr. Seong, but he's not heard. In a split-second decision, you bolt out of the car, and he's soon following.

You approach the entrance but are stopped. You feel a hand push you back as Jun Ho settles the bouncer with a gun. You scoff at him as he mutters, "Stay out of the way" as you both enter the club.

"Glad to know you can handle a situation peacefully." You say, knowing he's not listening anyway. As you see Seong Gi Hun leaving, Jun Ho finds your partner tased on the bar.

He calls for the soldiers as you both make it to an alleyway. However, you see one guard waiting for you in the alley with a gun, as a white limo drives away. "Shit," you mutter, feeling Jun Ho push you back again and grab his weapon.

"Let me." He demands but is soon humbled when the gun is knocked out of his hand by the fast-moving guard. You take this opportunity to lift a hard kick to the hand of the guard, grabbing his jacket and kneeing him for good measure. The guard, briefly stunned, looks around for his gun, only to see it pointed at his face.

"Where is that limo going?" You ask, a sense of strength in your voice, unfamiliar to Jun Ho. After the guard tries to grab your gun, you don't hesitate to pull the trigger as you put away your weapon and look at Jun Ho. It's only now that you notice the way he's staring at you. "… What?" You scoff, knowing the answer.

"Let's go." He says, running to his car to catch up with the group. You follow, and he swings open the back door for you, something that didn't go unnoticed, but you didn't point out. You could tell he was distracted as he kept in touch with the soldiers.

You hop to the front seat as the cars are shot at. Jun Ho begins trailing the limo but is soon victim to a shot at his tires, causing him to skid into a, thankfully empty, intersection, losing the limo.

It isn't until you both calm down that you feel him let go of your hand and reach for his phone. You both exit the vehicle as you listen to Gi Hun volunteer for the games.

You sit in silence again as he calls for "Plan B" and you look around awkwardly. Soon, you hear him again. "Sorry. For being rude. I should've given you a chance." He says, avoiding your eyes. You smile and walk around to his side of the car.

"You owe me." You smile, looking into his eyes, probably for the first time. He looks at you and laughs, nodding.

"Alright," he smiles, looking back at you in a way you hadn't seen before, "Deal."

I hope this was kinda what you meant! I wasn't sure what you meant by "saves him," but let me know if you need any changes ♡

~🍡🍡

#jun ho x reader #squid game #Jun Ho x fem!reader #jun ho squid game #mocchii writes #squid game x reader #squid game season 2 #seong gi hun #hwang jun ho #hwang jun ho x reader #hwang jun ho x you #jun ho

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froggiewrites · 8 months ago

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i love your writing so much and im so glad you opened requests!! :) i would love if you wrote a fic about zoro being dominant (maybe some spanking/spitting?) him having a dirty mouth, and perhaps some edging? i have another idea that i'll send in a diff message too! even if you dont choose this one i look forward to reading the others <3

I've never written anything with a lot of dirty talk or dominance before, but I tried my best, and I hope I did it justice! 😊

Playing Rough

Pairing: Zoro x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You're being terribly stubborn, insisting on fighting battles you can't handle. Zoro decides to put you in your place. Warnings: Smut, Dom Zoro, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Slight Edging, Begging Word Count: 2.4k

It was a stupid argument, one that shouldn’t have happened.

The battle you had been through was rough, sure, but you didn’t take any damage that wouldn’t heal. Zoro had insisted you not fight on your own, not take on any challenge you couldn’t handle, and you had insisted that you were more than capable of handling it. And you were. You came home, didn’t you? And the bruises might be nasty and the stitches weren’t terribly fun either, but you were in one piece. You had managed to hobble your way back to the ship on your own, and you didn’t even collapse before making it into Zoro’s arms.

You were too out of it to comprehend the words he said, though you understood the panic and fear in his tone well enough. And you certainly understood the words he spoke when you first woke up.

“Are you stupid?”

“Excuse me?”

Before you could truly get angry, his arms were around you, crushing you against his chest. You can feel a slight tremor as he takes a deep breath, nose buried in your hair, taking in your scent, your warmth, any evidence that you are here with him and alive. He takes a shuddering inhale, the closest thing to weakness you’ve ever heard from him, before his voice comes back again, rough and absolutely furious. “You almost died.”

“I didn’t almost die.” You try to say it sweetly, soothingly, but his fingers tighten in a way that is less than kind.

“You almost died. You went even though you knew you shouldn’t, and you almost died. I almost lost you.” His voice isn’t shaking, not quite, but you swear you feel the tremor anyway. Zoro is not a man easily rattled, yet somehow you have shaken him to his very foundation.

“You could never lose me, Zoro. I knew what I was doing, I promise.”

“You knew the risk you were taking?”

“Yes. But I had to do it.” You bring a hand up to run through his hair. “I knew I would come back. I knew what I was doing, and I knew I was strong enough. I promise.”

You’re suddenly devoid of his warmth as he pulls away, glaring at you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Chopper said if you got back even a few minutes later…” He trails off, clenching his teeth.

“But I didn’t,” you insist. “Everything turned out fine, Zoro.”

“Do you think that’s all that matters?”

“Kind of!”

He huffs. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He stalks out of the room, slamming the door as he leaves. You throw yourself back onto the bed, wincing as you realize your ribs are very much broken. Every inch of you is bruised, and it hurts to breathe. But it was worth it. He would understand that eventually. Not every fight has a pretty ending, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t finish them.

He did not understand, as it turns out.

He still helped you as you healed, your dear protector always carrying you so gently, so purposefully. But you could feel the distance, the tension. Neither of you acknowledged it, focusing on your health first and foremost, but it haunted every moment you two were together. Touches were fleeting, conversation was sparse. But finally, finally, today you have been officially given a clean bill of health by Chopper.

“You’re cleared for everyday activity, but I still want you to stay out of fights for a while. And don’t do anything that reckless again!” Chopper’s words are law when it comes to your health, so you’ll do your best, but you can’t help but think of how no one else on this ship would follow such instructions.

“I’ll try.” No promises you can’t keep, and Chopper purses his lips a little when he realizes, but after a moment he simply nods. He’s used to patients even more stubborn than you, of course.

As you leave the office, ready to get back to your regular life, you’re instantly met by Zoro’s broad chest as he pulls you into him.

“You’re fine now?” There’s a tension to his voice you don’t fully understand.

“I–yeah? I guess?”

“Good.” He throws you over his shoulder, not exactly gently, now that he knows being rough with you won’t open your stitches.

“What are you doing?” You try to pull yourself up to see where he’s taking you, but he gives you a quick swat on the ass that makes you squeak as you fall limp again.

“You’ll see.” He jogs down a hallway you only recognize right before you reach your destination: his room. When the door slams shut behind you, enclosing you in darkness, it almost sounds like a death knell.

He throws you onto the bed carelessly, pushing a hand onto your stomach to keep you from bouncing. His other hand makes quick work of your pants as you squirm, not out of fear but out of pure confusion.

“Zoro? What’s going on?”

“We have a conversation to finish.” His voice is flat. You don’t need to ask him which conversation. You know damn well which one. He’s finally rid you of your pants, throwing them carelessly to the floor, and he begins to work on the buttons of your shirt.

“Is that what this is going to be? A conversation?”

He hums. “No, I guess not.” His callused hands are rough against your bare skin as he unhooks your bra and grabs your breasts. “You aren’t going to be doing much talking, today. It’s finally time for you to listen.” He kneads your chest for a moment, pinching harshly, before he moves to slide off your panties.

“Listen?” Your voice is a little strained as you feel his fingers slide against your bare skin for the first time in weeks.

“Yeah, listen. You weren’t willing before, so I have to try something else.” He flips you over before pulling you onto his lap, ass in the air. “Make you remember our roles here.”

“Our roles?”

“Yeah. I’m the protector of the ship, of our crew. That’s my job.”

“Oh? And what’s mine?”

“In general? To survive. Right now? To take what I give you.”

“And what are you giving me?”

“Do you think you’re in a position to interrogate me right now?” His hand grabs one of your ass cheeks, an attempt to remind you exactly who’s in charge. And you know, of course, who’s in charge here. But that doesn’t mean you can’t push him.

“You’ve been answering, haven’t you?” You can’t keep the mischief out of your voice.

He chuckles in spite of himself. “Yeah, I have. I’m being too nice, aren’t I?” His voice gets a little deeper, an intensity creeping in. “I’ll give you one more, as a treat. I’m giving you exactly what you’ve earned, for acting so fucking recklessly. And then, if you’re good? I’ll give you my cock. I’m sure you want it, hm? All cooped up in the infirmary for weeks, thinking about it, knowing you can’t have it. I bet it’s been driving you insane.”

With that, you feel the sharp sting of his hand as he brings it down. It makes you cry out as it connects with your soft flesh, but you know he isn’t using even half of his strength, holding back, somehow taking care of you even now. You feel him harden when he does it, though you can’t tell if it’s from the sound you make or from the action itself. Maybe both. His hand gently caresses the growing handprint, a moment of tenderness, before he raises his hand again and you tense.

“Just relax, sweetheart. It can’t be any worse than what you put us through.” Another smack, this one on the other cheek, and another, and another, alternating each time. You can’t help the small squeaks and whines you let out, and Zoro can’t hide the effect they have on him, breathing growing heavier and smacks becoming more intense as you both lose yourselves.

“That’s it. One more. You can take one more.”

“Ah!”

“That’s right. Another. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? You’re practically dripping.” You clench your thighs together, trying to hide the fact that he’s right, about this, about the fight, about everything here. When you try, he tuts, bringing his hand down yet again, making you jolt. “Don’t go hiding yourself from me, pretty thing. You’re mine, every inch of you. You can’t hide a thing from me. Can you say it for me, sweet thing? Admit that you’re mine?”

“I’m yours, Zoro!”

“And that I was right?”

“You were—ah!” His hand comes down again, but you force your way through. “You were right, Zoro!”

“There we go.” His hands finally stop, coming to rest on your red and stinging ass. “Was that so hard to admit?”

You keep silent, your stubbornness still carrying you through.

He laughs at you. “You know, I could add a bit to your punishment for not answering. But,” his fingers find your entrance, wet and waiting, “I think you’d probably like that, huh?”

You hum, pushing your face into the bed, trying to hide your red face and ears. He lifts you up, pulling you up into a sitting position, holding your chin and forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Hiding again? You really liked your punishment, didn’t you? As much as I’d love to continue, that’s not all I had in store. So eyes on me.”

He quickly strips off his shirt before easily lifting you with one arm so he can slide off his pants. As he does, you can see a wet spot where you were resting. It’s a little mortifying, realizing how easily he can turn you to putty in his hands, literally dripping wet for him. Your embarrassment quickly subsides when he frees his cock, red and twitching, and you realize you hold just as much sway over him as he does over you. He lines himself up with your entrance, ready to give you exactly what you want.

As he slowly slides you down on his cock, you let out a moan, and he groans in response. His eyes are locked onto where your bodies meet, taking in the sight of you stretching around him. “Fuck, you take me so perfectly. Like you were made for me.”

Once he’s fully sheathed in you, you both take a moment to breathe in, enjoying the feeling of this first sweet stretch. The second you breathe out, he begins to bounce you roughly, making you squeak. “Oh, you thought I was going to go easy on you now?” He laughs, continuing his fast pace, fingertips digging into your hips. “Fuck, you feel so good, pretty thing. Bouncing on my cock just like that.”

One hand leaves your hips, moving up your body, finding its place at your chest. He pinches your nipples, making you squeal, before he leans forward, breathing heavily in your ear. “God, when you squeeze around me like that…” he squeezes your chest again, moaning. “You kill me, sweetheart.”

His hips continue to snap harshly into yours, pounding relentlessly as the sounds of slapping skin fill the room. His lips latch onto your neck, sucking and leaving a mark that clearly defines you as his. You can feel the heat rising as your orgasm builds, your sounds growing more wanton and desperate as Zoro begins to pound into you even faster, and faster.

And then it stops.

“Wha–”

You can feel the rumble of his chest against your back as he laughs. “Oh, did you think I was going to just give it to you?”

“I–But–I was good,” you say petulantly. Your voice is still a half whine as you try to ground yourself, the tension in your body slowly unraveling and leaving nothing but a cold dissatisfaction.

“Hm.” He presses his cheek to your shoulder, humming as though he’s thinking. “Well. Maybe if you beg you can cum on my cock. If you’re real sweet about it.”

It’s embarrassing how quickly the frantic cry leaves your mouth. “Please, please, please Zoro can I cum? Please?”

“Hm. I think you can do better.”

“Please, can I cum on your cock, Zoro! Please, I need you, please!”

“Alright. Since you asked so nicely.”

His fingers find your clit, rubbing circles around it. He enters you again, pace slower this time, but strokes deep and deliberate. You can feel every inch of him as he pulls in and out, feel the heat of his breath on your ear, hear his quiet moans as you clench around him. He will give you your release, but not as quickly as you want it. You’ll get it on his terms.

Even still, you reach your precipice quickly, and he whispers huskily in your ear. “Are you ready?”

You’re beyond all practical thought at this point, but you still manage two simple words. “Yes! Please.”

“Alright then, pretty thing. Cum for me.” With one final thrust, one final movement of his fingers, you do, gushing around him as the world shatters. You’re panting, desperate for breath, but you can’t seem to make your lungs listen to you over the symphony of pleasure you’re drowning in. Right as you manage to regain some control of yourself, you can feel Zoro go tense beneath you before you feel him spill inside of you, filling you to the brim as he quietly moans out your name.

You both sit together a moment, you limp in Zoro’s arms as he falls back onto the bed, before he speaks up.

“Promise me you’ll never do anything like that again. Really.” His arms wrap around you a little tighter. “I…I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.”

“I won’t do it again, Zoro, I promise.” Your voice is weak, but you look up to see a sincere smile creep onto his face and you know he heard you. “...Are there other things that might get me punished like this? Less deadly things?”

He laughs. “Oh, there are plenty. And I’m sure you’ll do them all.” His hand runs through your hair affectionately. “But I’ll find more excuses to spank you later. I think you need some rest.”

With that, you two simply lay together, the only sound in the room your quiet breaths and the sound of Zoro’s heartbeat, growing slower and slower as you both drift off.

#zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece x reader #one piece smut #zoro x you #one piece zoro #roronoa zoro #x reader

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mikomikumi · 8 months ago

Text

Your Stupid Face

An ES! Megatron x reader oneshot

Written with the song ‘Your Stupid Face’ by Kaden MacKay.

+2000 words

Tags: Fluff, Angst, friends to lovers, GN reader, Cybertronian Reader.

*some lyrics are changed to suit the narrative

‘I just really hate your face’, Megatron thought.

‘Though I know that won't surprise you’

‘But, to me, your face is one giant wart’

‘And your laugh's one big snort’

‘And you stink, so in short’

‘I despise you’

He walked up and down his habsuite, trying to convince himself he doesn’t like you.

For millions of years during the war, you were a Decepticon serving under his rule. You had fought together in many long battles, sharing victories and defeats. Yet, as some love stories begin, there was that connection. Was it the playful flirting while looking out of the Nemesis? Was it the late night conversations you'd indulge in on the long journeys? Or was it all meaningless and Megatron was just a sappy, hopeless romantic?

Nevertheless, his now daily affirmation of his ‘hatred’ for you goes on. He doesn’t want to like you. He can’t like you. Why would someone like you fall for a monster, a traitor.

‘You disgrace the human race’

'Cause you're more of a mosquito’

‘I would rather have the dent and a drill’

‘Then this swine in the swill’

‘And if you were a bill, I would veto’

Megatron sat on his berth. On a small table to the side, was a crystal souvenir you got from Crystal City. You stole it during an attack. He picked it up, and held it in the palm of his servo.

‘And if the world was perfect, you would be gone without a trace

But since the world could never be that great

I'll just hate your stupid face’

The grey bot gripped the crystal in a mini attempted rage, and threw it across the room. It shattered the second it made contact with the habsuite walls. The shatter knocked him out of his anger, and now he was full of guilt.

He slowly made his way over to the now broken souvenir. Beautiful shards of clear crystal glittered the floor. Just as he was about to try to clean up the mess, Optimus knocked.

“Come in”. Megatron called, dryly. “Ah, hello there my old friend”. Megatron stood up to greet the Prime, scooting the broken crystal to the corner with his pede.

“More tarantulas have been spotted around the junkyard. G.H.O.S.T. wants you to take care of them, as a ‘proof of trust’.”

“Seriously? Even after what happened last time? This is the biggest load of slag, Prime”. Megatron just scoffed and rolled his Optics. “It’s just Optimus, my friend. And I agree”. The truck put a servo on the grey bots shoulder plating. “You’ve been doing well so far in your cooperation, Megatron. Just think of this as another step towards the alliance of human and Cybertronian kind”.

To be honest, Megatron didn’t really care about the alliance. He has his human friends, Dot, Mo, Robbie and Alex. It’s not a war anymore, why does he need more friends? After a few moments of consideration he sighs. “Fine. I’ll be back”.

Megatron sauntered out of the room, leaving Optimus behind. Optimus watched his friend walk down the hall. “Take care!” All he got as a response was a servo in the air. He could make out the grey bot singing in the distance.

Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo~

Doo-doo doo-doo-doo-doo doo-doo-doo-doo-doo~

—————

The junkyard was absolutely covered in tarantulas when Megatron arrived. ‘Who the frag makes this many?’ Pushing his thoughts aside, he gets to work, slowly but surely fighting off as many tarantulas as possible. He kept his distance of them, as to not be overwhelmed like last time.

Unfortunately, that tactic only worked for a short period of time. More ended up emerging from the smallest of hiding places. Eventually there were too many for Megatron to shoot off alone. He found himself with his back against some shipment containers, surrounded at all sides. Just as he was about to transform and fly off, a line of tarantulas were flattened before him.

‘Oh, no’

The jeep responsible for the hit and run swerved back to stop in front of him.

‘No…’

“Need a hand?” You transformed into your bot mode. Your face held a smirk Megatron had been trying so hard to hate.

‘I just really like your face

You don't have to look so happy’

Megatron wanted so bad to tell you to go away, but all he could muster was his own small smile.

‘I'm not really into love that you flaunt

In some glittery font

But if that's what you want

Make it snappy’

“That would be nice”, is all he says.

You take out your arm cannon. “Let’s do this then!”

Just like old times. It had been a while since Megatron felt a rush course through his Energon lines from battling. You by his side, shooting the enemy and making witty banter in between hits. It was perfect. It doesn’t matter anymore that G.H.O.S.T. sent him out for one of the most stupid reasons in the world, because now you were here. It’s funny. All those chants of how much he hated you in the mornings sizzled away. Like a blaster to a tarantula.

‘I just feel so out of place

Well, except for when you're near me

When you're gone, I'm like a plant with no root

Or a song that's on mute

Don't you dare call it cute!

You should fear me!’

You giggle. Primus, he should be the one calling you cute! Not the other way around. He was a monster, only now paying for all his sins by joining the other side. He thinks all this despite knowing you also took part in torturing Autobots and other heinous acts.

A car honk interrupts your fighting for a moment. Megatron hears let out a small gasp. Before he can stop you, you transform and drive off into the surrounding forest. As he turns to where you were standing, Dot, and her seven children leap into action behind him, helping clear off the last few of the tarantulas.

‘And if the world was perfect, you would've never invaded my space

But since the world's obsessed with saying, "Psych!"

Now I like your stupid face’

Megatron just sighs. He averts himself back to the children and Dot. He doesn’t think they spotted you. Even if they did, thanks to their understanding mother they would’ve treated you with respect. They’d probably like you a lot. You’re funny, charismatic, cool to be with. Anyone could like you.

The children wanted to ask him over for game night. Optimus told them where he was. After all of today's events, he actually decided to agree and join them. He transformed and followed them down the road.

Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo~

Doo-doo doo-doo-doo-doo doo-doo-doo-doo-doo~

————-

So, it turns out all of the efforts Megatron made were useless. The pathetic doctor has him and most of the Autobots under mind control, and is now sitting atop a throne, watching the Terrans and Decepticons fight. Starscream informed you about what happened with him and one of the Terrans, and asked if you’d like to help kick Megatron in the aft. While part of you was delighted with the opportunity, you also felt a little sympathetic towards him.

You secretly loved the bot. His determination and good intentions deep down made you swoon, not to mention he’s not the worst looking. Obviously you’d never tell him, why would you be of interest to a warlord? You would’ve joined him with the Autobots and G.H.O.S.T, if it didn’t mean covering up your Decepticon insignia. Your pride won over your love that you could never portray. Instead you’ve been hiding, living as peaceful a life as you could before potentially being captured, which somehow you avoided.

You now stood in front of the bot. The red terran, Twitch, had almost been blown to bits. You managed to pull her away in time before Megatron had the chance to shoot, but now took her place. “Go! I’ll take care of him”, you yelled, letting her run to save her brother. His optics now an alarming glowing white. And you thought the red was terrifying enough. Megatron pointed his fusion cannon at you. You pointed back.

“Megatron!? Are you still there?” You call from him. Your cannon wouldn’t do a fraction of the damage his would, but it was at least worth an attempt.

He didn’t respond to you, still as the sculpture in the SpaceBridge Memorial park.

“MEGATRON!” you begged. “ITS ME!”

Not a flinch.

“PLEASE!” Tears begin to roll down your cheek plating.

What you didn’t know was that Megatron on the inside was fighting for his life to gain control. He heard every single word. He knew it was you, and there was no way he would let Mandroid lay a finger on you. He fought, and fought.

Until it was too late.

While he managed to weaken the intensity, mind-controlled Megatron had shot a massive dent in your chassis. He could see the pain on your face, he heard the adorable yelp you squeaked.

No…

No!

His self loathing only lasted a few more moments when suddenly he watched you go offline. He then felt his own systems shut down too. Weakly he collapsed, falling to his knees next to you.

‘I just really miss your face’

‘Though, by now, I must disgust you’

‘I had tried to be the stubbornest mule’

'Cause I knew life was cruel’

‘So I guess I was foolish to trust you’

He painstakingly crawled closer to you, and placed a servo over yours.

‘But I wait here just in case’

‘Though I know I'm being senseless’

‘How could I have ever been so naive’

‘And wear my heart on my sleeve’

‘When I knew it would leave me defenseless?’

Just before his optics died out, he gave your servo a gentle squeeze.

‘And if the world was perfect, you would be here in my embrace

But since the world denied me one last kiss

I'll just miss your stupid face’

—————

Megatron was the first of the two of you to wake up. After collecting his thoughts for a few seconds his attention turned to your body, laying face down and holding his hand. He got up and you begin to stir.

Eventually, you push yourself up to meet the grey bot’s face. As your chassis rises with you, Megatron is reminded of what he failed to stop. He sees the damage he has done.

His optics widen, stepping back. He’s disgusted in himself. He’s too scared to touch you. You manage to fully stand up and walk closer to him.

“Megs, I’m alright, it’s just a dent-”

“No… stay back…”

“Megatron really, I’m fine-”

“STAY AWAY!”. You can hear the tears in his voice box as he transforms and flies away.

The red Terran stands beside you as he leaves. You know where he goes when he’s upset, should you follow him is the question.

And that question is answered straight away when Twitch taps you on the leg. “Go”.

And so you do. To the waterfall.

————-

Just as you suspected. Megatron is sitting on a rock next to the waterfall, hunched over. You remember him going here when the SpaceBridge was destroyed. The sound of the crashing water made him at peace with himself.

As you pull up, he jumps the noises of your alt form changing back to normal.

“What are you doing here?” He blurts.

“I followed you after you ran off”.

“I didn't run away! It was, it was a strategic retreat.”

You made your way closer to him, he took a step back.

“Can we at least talk about this”

“What is there to talk about? It's over, I hurt you”.

You keep making your advances. Megatron’s retreats can only go back as far as the cliff edge, unless he flies off of course.

“…Are you sorry?” You sheepishly ask.

“Well, yeah, of course I'm sorry, but- No, no, don't forgive me!”

“Wha-”

“Why do you do that?”

“Megs-”

“Why, why give me another chance to mess things up?”

Oh my Primus sake he wouldn’t listen. This isn’t the confession you wanted but the only one that would shut him up.

“For frag sake Megatron because I LOVE YOU”.

”Because you- what?”

Megatron’s jaw dropped. He struggles to make more words, let alone actually process what you said.

‘Those three little, words out of the blue’

‘Completely uncalled-for, especially from you’

”Why don't you hate me? Why do you care?”

“Can't you berate me? Isn't that fair?”

“Where is your glare?”

He’s too busy trying to justify it all to notice you’re now standing in front of him.

“Don't you dare leave our problems and pain on the shelf!”

“Because if you don't hate me, I can't hate myself-”

You thought if he kept babbling he was gonna override himself. You roughly grabbed his head by the jaw and kissed him.

Once you pulled away he cupped your own face with one of his servos, his red optics staring deeply into yours. The shock and desperation took over himself.

‘But that's why I need you’

‘You shatter my fear’

'Cause despite my misdeed, you are still right here’

‘Though it's stupid to date me’

‘You're willing to try’

‘And if you don't hate me, then why should I?’

“Are you sure you don't want to give up on me?” He whispered

All you could do was laugh. “You're a moron~”

Megatron felt his spark begin to race.

“So you think that we could work?”

You just nod, nuzzling you head more into his servo.

“Here I thought I'd been the dumb one”

“what?” You stop.

“You're forgiving me for all I did wrong” he replies

‘You're unmuting the song’

‘And, again, I belong to someone’

“No! You can drop the stupid smirk” he raises his digit at you, as if scolding.

“Though by now I guess you've earned that”

'Cause no matter how intensely I pout’

‘Your stupid face will win out’

‘And I guess it's about time I learned that’

Your face was plastered with a permanent smile, which melted every fear and worry Megatron had. He pulled you in by the waist, resting his servos there once he finished.

‘And though we go together like a glass of high grade and mace’

Your scent comforted him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Yes part of it was burning metal, but he never figured out how you always smell like sweet high grade.

‘At least it's not as dull as fitting like a glove’

'Cause you're a nightmare that I've not been dreaming of

But I suppose that when push comes to shove

Fine!’

“I love your stupid face” you whispered,

Megatron chuckled, leaning down for a soft, deep kiss.

Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo~

Doo-doo doo-doo-doo-doo doo-doo-doo-doo-doo~

Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo~

‘Your stupid face~’

#Spotify #transformers #transformer earthspark #tfe megatron #es megatron #earthspark megatron #megatron #tf earthspark #tfe #earthspark megatron x reader #megatron x cybertronian reader #megatron x reader

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littlelambscandyland · 7 months ago

Text

Let Her Be

CG!House x Little!Autistic!Fem!Reader

Notes- Made the gal autistic because I am and couldn't stop myself from writing this, leave me alone, lol. That being said I just got my laptop working again, so I'll be working on requests again soon!

Warnings- Skin Picking (around the nails), Arguing (Cuddy and House), Hyperventilating, Panic Attacks, Non-violent biting (mentioned),

(Fun Fact the word count is 2,012 which is the same year the show ended)

It'd been 20 minutes. 20 damn minutes and no one even knew what this conversation was even about anymore. Cuddy had come to talk to House about yet another one of the man's many neglected duties. Normally it’d be a quick in and out where he’d complain, moan, and insult but eventually do, somewhat, what she asked. However, when Cuddy entered his office she noticed one of their interns off to the side. You.

You had been hired a few months back. A part-time intern for the psychiatric department. Cuddy was initially hesitant to hire you on because of your own mental disorders. You were autistic, quite ironic that you went into psychiatry. Despite her initial fear you were proven very useful and hardworking. Sometimes she felt herself feeling bad for ever thinking so wrongly of you, thinking how she played into the stigmas wrongly, but other times she feels glad she pushed those aside to hire you on.

Then again, maybe it was a mistake. Not because of you, mostly. You experienced age regression in high stress situations or for reasons Cuddy wasn’t quite aware of, and House had taken some special interest in you. He made excuses for you to work more with his team. Eventually Cuddy gave in letting you help with their cases by, essentially, being the patients temporary therapists. She gave you a raise and promoted you from intern, though most people still thought of you that way as Cuddy basically made up a position for you, just to shut House up.

The problems only really came when Cuddy noticed House having you around, almost, all the time. Noticing that unless he sent you away you were glued to his side. She also noted that you seemed more childish whenever he was around. Eventually, she realized you were regressed during these times. Of course, by realizing it was actually Wilson telling her after ranting to him about her confusion.

Now the actual problem wasn’t all of this. No. The problem was with House keeping you around all the time you weren’t able to do your actual job. You seriously couldn’t do it while in the mindscape of a five year old. It was ridiculous, so with feeling like there was nothing else to do she changed your job again. This time she made you House’s personal intern. Your new job entitles keeping him on track and mentally stable. Tieing in his need for you to be around and your degree in psychology.

Back to the present. It’s the first time Cuddy had to come and remind House of his job. The man had even been doing his clinic hours with a little less complaints. Today, though, House hadn’t been out of his office all day. According to Forman, House quickly dismissed them of any and all cases, and you’d done nothing about it.

So, here Cuddy was trying to talk to two incredibly distracted people. You wrapped up in a chair at a desk House had added just for you, and House sat opposite from Cuddy. He sparred more looks toward you than at Cuddy. Despite the “serious” talk, House just couldn’t ignore you. Sending funny faces or glances when you weren’t looking. If anyone knew any better they’d say House’s eyes were filled with adoration more than fascination.

And if anyone knew any better they’d realize they were right.

House had no idea when or why you became so important. He remembers meeting you, how kind you were. He remembers how he’d made a rude comment and you immediately shot back. He remembers how he called you out only for you to do the same to him. House remembers how you took everything he threw at you in stride. How you were so sweet and funny. How you willingly showed yourself with little doubt. He saw how sweet you were. How smart you were. How honest you were.

It was just you. Everything about you. He felt protective and calm with you. House felt like he didn’t have to mask himself around you. You openly answered anything he asked you and you told the truth. He knew from the moment he saw you that you were an age regressor. House knew that you wouldn’t hide that part of yourself from him as long as he asked, so he did. House confronted you the way he does everyone, bluntly. You answered him with slight embarrassment, but openly you answered with kindness towards his curiosity.

Ever since he confronted you on it you’ve been completely responsive to every push he’s given. House can’t explain why but when you willingly started regressing around him he’d gotten so happy that he couldn’t help but coddle you. Even he found it odd how you became so special. A simple fascination turned to admiration. He saw you as a new extension of himself. Not because of how physically young you were to him, but because of how mentally young you could be. Even out of regression you had a positive childish view on things, and House was begging to protect that. He knows how rare a girl like you is. He felt even more proud when you asked him to be your caretaker when you regress. He felt even more proud than that when Cuddy transferred you to a new position as his “personal intern”. He liked spending his days with you. He liked how you needed him.

Now he sat looking at you. Eyes filled with boredom that changes to love whenever he looks towards you. You sat at a colorful deskright across from him. Eyes interchanging between a screen, Dr.Cuddy, and House. Sweet distractions and an inability to hear whatever the two of you are being told. Thick irritation unable to crush your five year old wonder.

You remember asking House if he was alright with having you around so often. You knew how it could be being stuck with someone unwillingly. You remember him telling you to shut up and if he didn’t want you around you’d be gone by now. You remember making him smile genuinely, not a sarcastic cocky one. You remember him questioning everything about you like an intense interview. You remember the smile that he tried to hide in pride when you asked him to be your caretaker.

You moved as gracefully as you could with the new changes thrown at you. You acted with stability and a mask that could be unbreakable. Yet. Anytime you were with House, alone, you dropped the mask and he did too. Two people completely real with who they’re supposed to be, if only for a short time. He saw you in a way most people didn’t. He didn’t doubt you because of your disorder. House became, so quickly, such an important part of your life. Platonically, you loved him and he loved you. Neither of you would admit it, but even when you weren’t regressed you saw him as a father figure. Someone who is actually there, who actually cares about you.

So, here you sat at your desk. The mindset of a child as you did your best to do your damn job. Cuddy scolding you and House simultaneously. Her words work too quickly in a tone you didn’t enjoy so you took in kind the silly looks and glances from House. You “worked” on the small computer in front of you. An open document with random words or phrases you’ve typed out being the only “work” related thing open. All your tabs have games or silly videos on them. Despite your current age you did try to listen to Cuddy, it was just so hard.

Cuddy stopped her rant midway through a sentence. A look of annoyance played in her eyes. She looks over to House who is once again making faces at you, and she looks at you trying your best to suppress your giggles.

“Will you pay attention, damnit.” Cuddy exclaims in frustration.

The sudden exclamation made you stiffen. You immediately shot your eyes to your lap, afraid Cuddy would turn her glare to you.

“Hey!” House shouts out just as quickly. “Watch your tone in front of the kid.” He says with a bit of a tease.

Cuddy bit at her words for a moment. Gapping for only a few seconds while looking between you and House. Finding her words she finally speaks again. “She shouldn’t be a child right now!”

“Well, maybe we should be more accommodating.” House argues, playfully.

“House this is serious. I won't have a reason to keep her working here if she isn’t actually working.” Cuddy replies.

“She is working.” He shakes his head. “She keeps me on track.” He says matter-of-a-factly.

Cuddy narrows her eyes at him. “Not today she isn’t. Today she is the biggest distraction you’ve ever seemed to have. Today you haven’t even taken on a new case!”

Their conversation continues. A bickering background as your mind takes in the overall statement “I’m a burden”. Of course, that wasn’t what Cuddy was trying to say. That doesn't mean that wasn’t the message coming across to you.

Your hands shook as you started to pick at the skin around your nails. Your eyes blurred, not with tears, but because of your ragged breaths. You picked and tore at the flesh. The red didn’t really bother you as you continued to rip at your fingers.

Suddenly House was moving across his office.

“What are you doing?” Cuddy questions before her eyes land on you.

“Will you shut up for like five minutes?” House answers with a voice filled with indignation.

House is near you in seconds. He takes your shaking hands in his and holds them tightly. He tries to guide you. Keyword tries.

“Alright well this isn’t working.” He says to no one in particular.

He pulls you out of your chair and to the couch, sits you in between his legs, and wraps his arms around you. He holds you tightly and says something to Cuddy you can’t quite hear between your own heart beats. Something about not telling anyone something, something.

“Tell me what you need.” He commands.

You shake your head feverishly. You’re pulling his arms more and pushing your back against him.

“Alright, alright.” He says.

One hand goes to your head and his other goes to your legs. He repositions you until your face is shoved into his shoulder. A few more minutes of pushing and pulling, and a bit of biting from your side. Finally you're calm enough for him to get an answer from you.

“What happened?” He asks bluntly.

“burden…” You say, your voice lowly.

“You're not a burden..” House replies quickly.

“That’s what this was about?” Cuddy asked dumbfounded.

He rolls his eyes. “You’re still here?” House asks.

She huffs at him before beginning to walk out.

“Next time watch your mouth in front of the kid!” He calls out to her.

House turns his attention back to you. Your mouth latched onto the collar of his coat and you were lightly chewing on it.

“What’re you a gerbil? Get that out of your mouth.” He says taking his collar from you. “You know how many germs may be on this thing?” He teases.

“sorry…” You whisper.

He snorts. “No you’re not.”

His response pulls a small giggle from you.

“Hey,” He nudges you. “You’re not a burden. You hear me?” House looks into your eyes.

You nod your head.

“Good. Because if that was your takeaway of the conversation we need to teach you more on reading a room.” He tells you condescendingly. “Because I,” He emphasizes. “Don’t think of you as anything other than my kid.”

The way your eyes lit up at his words made House’s heart swell. If humans were actually made of stardust, House could’ve sworn all of your stardust was in your eyes. A moment of peace after what felt so intense.

Thankfully House didn’t see Wilson standing outside his office watching as, what he called, “House makes progress”.

#age regression #age regressor #little space #house md agere #house md x reader #gregory house #platonic gregory house x reader

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alek-softy · 1 month ago

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OKAY OKAY OKAY soooo

Timeline of everything that happened today at fanexpo Cleveland from my pov!!!

🌠 A diary entry post!!! 🐌

SO FIRST before the convention

This was the fit for the dayyy with the rushed Campbell Bain hoodie, dt pins, and my little golden retriever mask (to match the hoodie because Campbell is THE SUNSHINEY GOLDEN RETRIEVER BOY CHARACTER ever)

when we got to the convention we got some tickets for an autograph and photo op and they gave us times to come back and use the tickets so in the meanwhileeeee

We did some shopping!!! We got souvenirs for people back home mostly but

I got this cute tardis charm for myself!!!

Anyways eventually we got back when it was time for the photo op and I was expecting there to be some sort of line but we got to go in immediately and I was NOT PREPARED

I froze up really bad and turned super red. Zero thoughts. Just David Tennant. He had to awkwardly scoot me into frame while I just sort of stared at him and smiled like a creep.

I'll treasure this photo for the rest of my life

I'm pretty sure he was texting someone when I walked in and I thought that was kind of funny because ya know he's DAVID TENNANT so seeing him doing something so mundane was a weird new perspective??? Peak humor imo

I think it might be relevant to mention that he sounds more Scottish in person for some reason. I have no idea what that is

Also his hair is actually lighter now?? From the sides only though. From the front it just looks it's normal shade of brown.

Next UPPPP was the autograph!!!

And the line was SO INCREDIBLY LONG

For a while when I was in line that stupid awkward thing happened where your eyes just naturally go in the direction of someone else's because of where you're standing and you end up staring each other down for a few seconds at a time

BUT WITH DAVID TENNANT???

that was really weird

Anyways I got him to sign my sketchbook so that it could be blessed by The David Tennant and only allow me to make the most amazing art this side of the Mississippi

Orrr the other side of the Mississippi because I traveled across the country for this (⁠・⁠_⁠・⁠; )

LAST BUT DEFINITELY NOT LEASTTT!!

THE DAVID TENNANT CONVERSATION INTERVIEW PANEL THING!!!

I recorded almost the whole thing and posted it to YouTube here!!!

youtube

It's definitely not the best recording (due to my intense excitement) but it's something?? I don't know if there's an official recording out there yet but there were definitely cameras going around I should rlly check

Overall though !!!!!903/10!!!!!!

In the end I would end up seeing two other people wearing Campbell hoodies and SO MANY Doctor cosplays!!! mostly Ten but there was also a lot of Thirteen and Four sprinkled in there

IT WAS SOO worth it to meet my role model and the actor of all of my favoritist guys!! All the other fans were so nice and I was sort of kind of panicking the whole time BUT IT WAS SO MUCH FUN

That's all 4 now!!

(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

#david tennant #alec hardy #campbell bain #broadchurch #takin' over the asylum #takin over the asylum #taking over the asylum #tota #crowley #tenth doctor #fourteenth doctor #doctor who #10th doctor #14th doctor #good omens #Youtube

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redhoodkisser · 3 months ago

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two birds with one stone

your best friend sets you up on a blind date, fantastic. but, oh – the guy is kind of handsome..

warnings : none!

You'd told your best friend multiple times to not set you up on a blind date with a random person. What if they're a creep?! Well, clearly she didn't care about the risks of you getting murdered during a blind date.

Here you are, standing in front of the restaurant you were supposed to meet your blind date at. Great, just great. According to your best friend, his favourite colour is.. red? So you just wore your favourite wine red dress and paired it with black heels, doesn't take much to impress a man, does it?

You let out a sigh before stepping inside of the restaurant. You scanned around before your eyes landed on a certain man, your date. You were praying for help in your head as you approached the table he was sitting at.

“Hi, you're Jason, right?” You ask, giving him a warm smile. He looks at you up and down before nodding, “yeah, I'm Jason. Take a seat, pretty girl.” Your cheeks reddened slightly when he called you pretty, hoping he didn't notice. You settled down in the chair infront of him. You wanted to stay in for the night, not go out on a stupid date, but here she is. The atmosphere was awkward already, neither of them making conversation. Your hand was flipping through the menu, trying to distract yourself. But, you couldn't avoid him for long, eventually needing to start some type of conversation. You didn't want to waste your friend's 'hard work' hooking you up with this guy.

You exhaled, trying to calm yourself down. “So.. any hobbies in particular?” It was the most simple question, yet it made your chest feel a bit tight. You waited for his reply, watching him think about his answer. After a minute or so, he gave you an answer, “I like literature. You know, books and writing. All that jazz.” Oh, that was.. an unexpected answer? You thought he'd like something that was more intense. Though, his answer soothed the tightness in your chest, making you a bit relieved.

Your train of thoughts were suddenly stopped by the waiter that approached your table, asking you both what you were going to order. You looked at Jason, allowing him to order first since you'd been mindlessly flipping through the menu without inspecting it properly. While Jason was placing his order, you quickly flipped backwards through the menu and tried to find something simple and filling to you. Eventually, you landed on spaghetti. “Um, just the spaghetti please. If there is any, I'd like wine.” Jason was surprised by your choice of drink, but said nothing about it.

While you both waited for your food, he suddenly asked, “so, what's a pretty girl like you doing still single?” It was such a blunt question, but you couldn't exactly just avoid it. “Kinda hard to find a boyfriend when all they want is sex or.. just one night stands.” You said as your finger was fidgeting with your dress. A shaky sigh left you as you continued, “a-and, I had awful experiences in past relationships.” Jason was listening, nodding at everything you were saying. Hearing you say that had him extending his hand to yours resting on the table, placing his on top of yours.

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Whenever the right time comes, I'll be happy to hear you out, sweetheart.” You looked up at him, a smile making its way onto your lips. You nodded, “thank you, Jason. I'm.. flattered.” He smirked when you said that, “well, it's kinda my thing to make my first date flattered.”

You both talked until your food and drinks arrived, in which you two still talked whilst eating.

Once you both were finished with your food, you offered to split the bill with him but he refused. He paid for both of your meals, and you were being stubborn by telling him you'd pay him back but he absolutely refused. You tried to convince him, but alas, it didn't work. You both were standing outside the restaurant, saying your goodbyes. “So, I'll see you again?” You asked, tilting your head slightly in curiosity. “Yeah, of course. Uh, here's my number. You know, call me if you want another date.” He had his number written on a small piece of paper, ready to be taken by you.

You slowly took the piece of paper, looking at it thoughtfully before looking up at him. “I look forward to seeing you too, Jason,” before she left, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. It was a quick and sweet gesture she left before walking back to her apartment that wasn't far from the restaurant. His hand was on his cheek, exactly on the spot you'd kiss. He let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “That girl's gonna be the death of me..”

note ; omg,, first post in 2025 HAHA sorry i havent been posting as much as id like to. i might make a part two to blinddate!jason cs i actually like this concept :3

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd fluff #jason todd fic #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd headcanon #dc comics #dcu #red hood x you #redhood #red hood x reader #red hood fluff #jason todd imagines #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fanfic

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lilahlovesjjk · 22 days ago

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🇼🇭🇪🇳 🇮 🇬🇷🇴🇼 🇺🇵

Chapter 3

synopsis: You and Satoru Gojo used to be inseparable—the kind of childhood best friends that promised to get married, rule the world, and never leave each other’s side.

Then life happened.

Now, years later, you’re both enrolled in the same elite psychology graduate program—only this time, you’re rivals. Gojo’s loud, flirty, obnoxiously charming, and infuriatingly good at everything. You're focused, sharp, constantly proving yourself—and desperate not to let the past (or him) throw you off course.

warnings: angst, slowburn (kinda), swearing, eventual nsfw, (i'll add to the list if I think of any more as the story progresses)

The car glides through the city, headlights painting golden streaks on the slick pavement. The soft hum of music plays from the speakers—some lo-fi beat that Geto swears helps him drive better. Shoko’s in the backseat beside him, face lit up by her phone as she scrolls through whatever cursed memes she’s decided to collect for the night.

Gojo is, of course, driving. One hand on the wheel, the other draped lazily over the center console, fingers occasionally brushing your arm when he shifts lanes or turns too sharply—because he never just turns. Everything is dramatic. Extra. So him.

“You good over there?” he asks, peeking at you from behind his sunglasses. At night. Indoors, probably. It’s a whole brand.

“I’m not drunk yet,” you reply flatly.

“But are you good?” he presses, like he’s trying to sneak concern under layers of sarcasm.

You glance sideways. “You’re being weirdly nice. Are you dying?”

He gasps. “You wound me. Can’t I just be a gentleman?”

“You literally tried to speed past a red light to ‘prove dominance.’”

“That was a test of trust, actually.”

Geto snorts in the back. “You failed.”

Gojo ignores him and instead glances at you again. “You do look kinda pretty, by the way.”

You blink.

“Oh no,” you say slowly. “What do you want?”

He grins. “Just admiring. Is that a crime?”

“Depends,” you mutter. “Are you gonna keep talking the whole ride?”

He places a hand dramatically over his heart. “You’d miss me if I didn’t.”

You hate that you probably would.

When you finally pull into the restaurant parking lot, Gojo swings the car into a spot like he’s landing a spaceship, then hops out and jogs around to your side.

“Really?” you say as he opens the passenger door for you with a stupid flourish.

“I’m a man of class,” he says, bowing slightly. “Now come on, m’lady.”

Shoko leans out from the back window. “He’s gonna start quoting Shakespeare. Run.”

You laugh, shaking your head, and step out of the car. Gojo offers you his arm, and for a second, you hesitate.

But the sidewalk’s wet and your heels are untested, so you take it.

Only for balance.

Totally.

The restaurant is cozy but upscale—dim lighting, exposed brick, plants hanging from metal rafters, and the faint clatter of silverware over low conversation. It smells like garlic and sesame oil, and the second the host greets you, you know you’re about to eat dangerously well.

The four of you are led to a corner table—half booth, half chairs. Geto and Shoko claim the booth side, like a coordinated pair of smug cats. That leaves you and Gojo to sit opposite them.

He lets you take the seat first. “Always the gentleman,” he murmurs as he pulls your chair out.

You don’t look at him when you sit, but your face is definitely a little warm. The lights are dim, okay? It could just be the ambiance.

The waiter comes by for drink orders, and Gojo doesn’t even look at the menu before ordering something with rum, soda, and something he calls “good decisions.” You glance at the cocktails and settle on a lychee martini, then pivot to Gojo after the waiter leaves.

“Good decisions, huh?”

“Yeah,” he says, grinning. “You’re one of them.”

You choke on your water. Shoko cackles.

“You’re going to get kicked out of this restaurant before the appetizers even show up,” you mutter.

Gojo leans his chin into his palm, watching you like you’re more entertaining than anything else in the room. “Only if I get to take you with me.”

You sip your drink when it arrives and choose not to answer that.

“Planning to drown your unresolved trauma tonight?” he murmurs

“I’m in grad school,” you say sweetly. “That’s called coping.”

“You’re spicy when you’re buzzed,” he muses.

“You’re annoying when I’m sober.”

Gojo only grins, nudging your shoulder with his. “God, you’re fun.”

You roll your eyes but feel your stomach do that traitorous little flip again.

The table conversation is effortless. Geto is recounting some disaster of a lab study involving ink blots and a freshman who thought all of them looked like cats. Shoko, very calmly, is sharing her theory that Dr. Yuki might secretly be dating the TA who wears argyle sweaters.

Gojo keeps leaning in during the conversation just to whisper extra comments into your ear.

“Pretty sure that TA’s killed before. Look at that face. Zero remorse.”

“He’s not that old. What, 26? That’s like three years older than you.”

“Two and a half,” you correct.

“Still cradle robbing.”

“You’re one year older than me.”

“Yeah,” he says with a smile, “but I’m me.”

You give him a withering look, but it doesn’t stop the second drink from arriving. Or the third.

You’re warm by the time your second cocktail is gone. The edges of your thoughts are softening. You’re not drunk, but you’re definitely tipsy. Giggly. Light.

“Okay,” you say, standing. “I need food. Or bread. Or dumplings. Something.”

“Want me to come with you?” Gojo asks, half rising from his seat.

You wave him off. “I’m not gonna get lost between here and the appetizer station. Sit.”

He gives you a two-finger salute. “You break it, you bought it.”

You wander toward the appetizer area where staff are refilling trays of crispy spring rolls, steamed buns, and skewers of charred meat. You grab a small plate and start loading it, a soft hum under your breath.

That’s when it happens.

A guy sidles up next to you—tan skin, expensive watch, shirt just tight enough to scream trying too hard.

“Hey,” he says. “You here alone?”

You glance up, blinking. “Nope.”

“You sure? Haven’t seen anyone by you.”

“I’m literally at a table. With people.”

He smiles, sleazy. “You’re cute when you’re defensive.”

You freeze slightly, fingers tightening on the tongs. “Not interested, thanks.”

He steps closer. “Come on. Just a drink. I’m fun.”

You try to step back, but your heel hits the table leg behind you. His hand touches your arm—too firm, fingers curling like he’s trying to keep you from walking off.

You open your mouth, breath catching.

“Hey.”

The voice is behind you. Calm. Even. Lethal.

Gojo.

He’s standing just behind your shoulder, one hand in his pocket, the other holding your water glass like he’s been carrying it this whole time. His sunglasses are gone, and his eyes—sharp and pale—are focused entirely on the guy.

“Hands off,” Gojo says, so soft it could be mistaken for polite.

The man scoffs. “Relax, dude. We’re just talking.”

Gojo smiles.

It doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Oh, are you talking to her?” he asks, stepping closer. “Because it looks like you’re touching her. And I don’t remember her asking for that.”

You can feel the tension radiating off him like heat.

The man hesitates. But Gojo doesn’t blink. Doesn’t move.

After a moment, the guy mutters something under his breath and slinks away.

You exhale.

Gojo doesn’t say anything for a second. Just hands you your water.

You take it with shaking fingers. “Thanks.”

“Were you okay?” he asks, voice low.

You nod. “Just… caught me off guard.”

You clear your throat. “Thanks. For… you know.”

“Anytime.” His voice dips. “You looked good tonight, by the way.”

You blink.

“I mean, obnoxiously good,” he continues. “Like, how dare you? Do you know how hard it is to be charming when you’re sitting next to a Greek goddess?”

You laugh, and it comes out softer than expected. “That was smooth.”

He shrugs, grinning. “I’m full of surprises.”

You both linger there a moment too long before Geto calls from across the restaurant, “You good?”

You wave. “Yeah! Coming!”

Gojo nudges your shoulder gently. “Let’s get you some dumplings before you start drunk texting your ex.”

“I don’t have an ex,” you say as you walk.

“Even worse,” he mutters. “You’ll start texting me.”

You shoot him a glare, but he’s already grinning like the devil he is.

But before you can say anything, Shoko calls from the table: “Did you bring food or just trauma?”

You and Gojo both blink and start laughing.

The moment passes.

But it doesn’t really.

Not when he sits back beside you, closer this time. Not when his knee bumps yours and doesn’t move.

The night starts winding down in a haze of glowing lights and empty cocktail glasses.

Shoko’s leaned half into Geto’s side, nursing the last of her drink while he signs the check with lazy, practiced strokes. You’re still in your seat, blinking very slowly at the flickering candle in the center of the table like it's just whispered a conspiracy theory.

“Okay,” Shoko sighs, stretching like a cat. “We’re heading back to Suguru’s for some late-night snacks and regrettable karaoke.”

“Wait, we are?” Geto asks, brows lifting.

“You have Cup Noodles and a Bluetooth speaker. You’re ready.”

He doesn’t argue.

Gojo glances at you. “You up for that, or…”

You blink. Tilt your head. “I think my knees are gone.”

“That’s a no,” Shoko supplies, already sliding out of the booth. “Satoru, you’re on drunk baby duty.”

“I am not a baby,” you mumble, completely missing the fact that you’ve dropped one shoe under the table and didn’t notice.

“You’re right,” Gojo says, standing with a fluid stretch and tossing a couple bills on the table. “You’re a gremlin in lipstick. Come on, gremlin.”

You don’t protest when he loops your arm through his. You just giggle, a little dazed, and bump into him as you shuffle toward the door.

The ride back to your place is quiet, the hum of the city melting into the soft rhythm of the tires on pavement.

Gojo glances at you every so often. You’re curled up in the passenger seat, eyes fluttering between open and closed, head bobbing lightly with the movement of the car. The glow from the dashboard lights your face in soft golds and shadows, making you look… softer somehow. Less sharp than your usual “I’ll destroy you with academia” look.

“You good?” he asks, pulling up outside your apartment building.

You nod, a little too quickly. “Mmhmm. Just… floaty.”

He smiles. “That’s either the alcohol or your soul leaving your body.”

“Maybe both,” you murmur.

By the time Gojo pulls up in front of your apartment, your head’s resting against the cool window, eyes blinking slowly like it takes conscious effort to keep them open.

“Home sweet home,” he says gently, shifting the car into park.

You turn your head to look at him, blinking a beat slower than normal. “S’too quiet. Usually Shoko’s already yelling at me for being too dramatic or eating her leftovers.”

Gojo smirks. “Sounds like true love.”

“It is love,” you say, eyes wide and sincere. “Roommate marriage.”

You try to open the door, but fumble with the handle. Gojo leans over, unclicks it for you.

“My hero,” you say, voice dreamy, and then—with all the solemnity of someone giving a toast—“If I had another drink, I’d kiss you right now.”

Gojo nearly chokes on air.

You’re already halfway out of the car, wobbling slightly on the curb as your heel snags in a crack.

“Okay, okay,” he says, scrambling out to your side. “Let’s keep the footwear casualties to a minimum.”

You let him loop an arm around your waist, snuggling in like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Mmm. You smell nice.”

“I always smell nice,” he replies without missing a beat. “You’re just brave enough to admit it now.”

You laugh—loud and unrestrained—and Gojo feels it vibrate right through him.

The two of you stagger up the steps, you leaning on him more than you're walking, but not in a bad way. Not a burden. You’re warm and familiar at his side, and even in your ridiculous wobble-steps, you still manage to make his chest feel too small for his ribs.

You fumble for your keys and almost drop them. Gojo catches them mid-air.

“That’s like the third time tonight,” he teases, unlocking the door.

“You’re gonna start charging me a key tax.”

“I accept payment in praise. Or cookies.”

The apartment is dimly lit with soft fairy lights strewn along the walls, casting cozy shadows over your living room. It smells like you—like warm vanilla, something citrusy, and faint traces of hairspray and clean laundry.

You shrug off your jacket, tossing it haphazardly over the back of the couch before toeing off your heels with a relieved sigh.

“I love shoes,” you mumble, wobbling as you try to unstrap one, “but also I want them to die.”

Gojo chuckles and reaches down, steadying you. “Careful, Cinderella.”

Your fingers curl into his sleeve as you balance on one foot. “You’re sweet when you’re not being an egotistical menace, y’know.”

“Oh?” he grins. “Drunk compliments? You are smashed.”

“I’m not smashed.” You poke his chest, a little harder than you intend. “I’m just... warmly fermented.”

“Uh huh.”

He helps you down the hall, one arm around your waist, gently guiding you past the bathroom and toward your room. You hum something softly under your breath, maybe a song—or maybe just your thoughts out loud.

Gojo hears it anyway. And he’s still smiling.

When you reach your room, you push the door open with your shoulder and nearly trip over the laundry basket. Gojo catches you—again.

“Your reflexes are really good,” you murmur, turning to face him.

“I’ve had practice.”

“I bet,” you say slyly, eyes trailing up his frame. “Bet all the girls line up for you, Gojo.”

He raises a brow, teasing. “Jealous?”

You blink. Then grin. “A little.”

Gojo freezes.

It’s probably the drink talking. Definitely the drink.

But your gaze lingers, warm and lazy as it slides from his eyes to his mouth and back up again.

“I liked tonight,” you murmur, quieter now.

He swallows. “Me too.”

You yawn, then start to tug your shirt up over your head like he’s not still standing right there.

“Whoa—!” he shouts, flailing to turn around with both hands over his eyes. “Warning, woman! I’m still in the room!”

You laugh, fully belly-deep, and it echoes in the space. “You’re so squeamish.”

“No—I’m respectful.”

You toss your shirt at his back. He makes a dramatic choking noise.

“Duck shirt is next,” you singsong.

“Kill me now.”

You disappear into your closet, and he hears the soft rustle of clothes and a few curse words as you knock over something plastic.

When you emerge again, Gojo dares to peek.

You’re in blue pajama pants dotted with tiny rubber duckies and a matching oversized tee that says Don’t Quack With Me in bubble letters. Your hair’s a mess. Your eyes are glassy.

He nearly dies laughing.

“Oh my god.”

“What?” you blink innocently, brushing past him to grab a water bottle from your nightstand.

“You look like a children’s cartoon character,” he wheezes. “This is what you sleep in?”

You stick your tongue out. “It’s comfortable.”

“Yeah, psychologically.”

You try to glare, but you’re too sleepy to commit. He watches you climb into bed, fumbling with your blanket, still muttering under your breath.

“I was gonna go out and rage with the cool kids,” you mumble, “and now I’m wearing ducks.”

He pulls your blanket up over your shoulders, just like he did back when you were kids. Something about it makes his chest ache in a quiet, tender way.

You’re already blinking slow again, your limbs heavy, your voice soft.

“You’re staying until I fall asleep, right?” you ask, not quite a demand, but close.

He blinks. “If you want me to.”

You nod, eyes already fluttering shut.

Gojo grabs your desk chair and drags it over, spinning it around so he can rest his arms across the back of it and watch you settle into the sheets.

“You know,” you mumble, “you’re not as annoying as I remembered.”

Gojo snorts. “You literally threatened to staple my mouth shut two days ago.”

“Yeah, but now I’d just… tape it.”

“Oh, so we’re evolving.”

You smile sleepily. “You’re funny. And kind. And your hair is stupid, but like, in a pretty way.”

His throat feels tight.

“You’re gonna forget you said all this, aren’t you?” he murmurs.

“Not all of it,” you say, voice trailing off. “I’ll remember the part where you stayed.”

Your breathing evens out, and your lips part slightly as you drift into sleep.

Gojo watches you a moment longer. The fairy lights reflect softly against your cheeks, and you look peaceful in a way he doesn't usually get to see—not behind a scowl, or an eye-roll, or a sarcastic quip.

Just you. As you are. Safe. Asleep. In duck pajamas.

He exhales through his nose, stands, and gently pulls the blanket back up where it’s slipped.

“Goodnight, trouble,” he whispers.

Then, quietly, he slips out the door.

You wake up with the kind of headache that makes you swear you’ll never drink again. The light filtering through the slats of your blinds is aggressive. The inside of your mouth tastes like cotton. And your limbs feel like they belong to someone else.

You sit up with a groan, one hand bracing your throbbing forehead and the other yanking your comforter over your face like it’s a shield from the shame flooding your memory.

Did you…?

Did you actually start changing into your pajamas in front of Gojo?

You collapse back into bed, face buried in your pillow.

“God. Kill me,” you mutter.

You remember flashes—the warmth of his laugh, his voice calling your name when you nearly stumbled up the stairs, the way he gently tugged your jacket off when you got inside. And then there was you, very tipsy, talking far too much, calling him stupidly pretty, and peeling off your shirt like it was nothing. And Gojo—embarrassed but gentlemanly—spinning on his heel like he was facing a firing squad.

You roll onto your back and sigh. There's no recovering from this.

You should’ve just skipped class.

Your head feels like a construction site. No—more like the aftermath of one. Everything is too loud. The fluorescent lights are too bright. And your tongue is dry as sandpaper, like it’s personally offended by the three whiskey sours you let Shoko talk you into last night. You’re not even sure how you made it to campus.

“God,” you mutter under your breath, sliding into your seat with the elegance of a damp dishrag. You’ve got your sunglasses perched on your head, not even for the aesthetic but for medical necessity. Coffee rests in your grip like a lifeline.

“Morning, angel,” comes a too-cheerful voice behind you.

You flinch at the sound of it. You don’t even need to look to know who it is.

“Go away.”

“Rude,” Gojo pouts as he slides into the seat next to yours—his assigned spot now that the universe, in its infinite cruelty, made you project partners. “And here I was worried you wouldn’t survive the night. I was this close to calling an ambulance.”

You roll your eyes behind your sunglasses. “You could’ve just left.”

“Couldn’t do that.” He leans in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “What if you’d tried to strip in front of someone else?”

You groan, your hand flying to your forehead. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

Gojo tilts his head, all faux innocence. “Let what go? The way you started taking off your shirt and commenting on my hair?”

You want to die. Or at least melt into the linoleum tile and never be seen again. “I was drunk.”

“Drunk enough to call your microwave ‘Mr. Beepy.’”

Your coffee cup makes a dangerous creak in your hand as you squeeze it tighter.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he sings, grinning like a boy who just got away with pushing all the buttons on an elevator. “You love me. You were practically clinging to me last night.”

You lift your sunglasses to shoot him a look. “I remember enough to know I wasn’t clinging to anyone.”

Gojo raises an eyebrow, eyes glinting. “Oh, sweetheart. You don’t remember anything.”

Before you can threaten bodily harm, Dr. Yuki walks in and begins setting up the projector. The low murmur of the class quiets down, and you sink back into your seat, grateful for the distraction.

“Alright,” she begins, “let’s start with last week’s discussion. We touched on adverse childhood experiences. Today, I want to expand that into how trauma-informed care applies in clinical practice.”

Your pen moves sluggishly across your notes, the hangover still pulsing at your temples. But your brain kicks in—slowly but surely—as Dr. Yuki poses a question to the class.

“How does understanding a patient’s trauma background help a clinician avoid re-traumatization?”

Gojo raises his hand and gives a solid answer, something about empathy and self-regulation. You nod slowly, impressed—he’s really good at this.

Another student adds on, and you feel the discussion starting to build.

You finally muster the strength to speak. “I think it also helps reframe a patient’s behavior in context. Like, understanding trauma helps us avoid pathologizing survival responses.”

Dr. Yuki nods. “Excellent. That’s key.”

Gojo taps your arm with his pen, leans over, and whispers, “Hot and smart. You’re making it very hard for me to keep bullying you.”

You shoot him a glare. “Then maybe just stop?”

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

You manage to scribble down some notes. You’ve always loved this part of the subject—how malleable the brain can be, how healing is possible even after devastation

It’s oddly poetic. In a way that Gojo absolutely ruins by nudging your elbow halfway through Dr. Yuki’s explanation of exposure therapy.

He passes you a note like it’s middle school.

You glance down at it.

i’m free this wknd btw if you wanna get drunk & call more appliances weird names 😎

You scrawl a reply and shove it back.

i’m going to murder you. slowly.

He just smirks when he opens it. The kind of smirk that promises more chaos.

Halfway through class, Dr. Yuki pivots toward the whiteboard, pulling up slides about project methodology.

“You and your assigned partners,” she says, “should begin planning out how you want to tackle the observational component of your paper. I suggest choosing a developmental framework—Erikson, Piaget, attachment theory—then building your observations around it.”

She starts handing out a checklist with deadlines, and you suddenly remember the worst part of all of this: you and Gojo actually have to work together. Like… spend time. Alone. With his stupid long legs stretched under a library table and that insufferable smugness every time he’s right about something (which is often, unfortunately).

You glance sideways. He’s already looking at you, chin in hand like he’s daydreaming. Or plotting.

“So,” he drawls, “when are we having our first romantic research date?”

“It’s not romantic,” you mutter, grabbing the checklist. “It’s academic. Very unsexy. Like your sock tan.”

“Ouch. But also, fair. I’ve been meaning to fix that.” He flips his pen between his fingers with lazy finesse. “You wanna use Piaget or Bowlby for this? You’re the expert on neglected children, after all.”

You narrow your eyes. “I hope that’s a dig at the paper I wrote and not a personal attack.”

He grins. “It’s both.”

You sigh, ignoring how your lips twitch despite yourself. “Bowlby might be better. More relevant for what I wanted to do.”

“I’m good with that. I’ve got a few case studies from my undergrad psych practicum we could draw from, too.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Wait, you did a practicum?”

Gojo shrugs like it’s nothing. “Worked at a community center for a semester. I was great with the kids. They called me Gojo-sensei.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You? Around children?”

“They loved me,” he says, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “One of them even proposed to me with a macaroni ring.”

“And you turned her down?”

“Tragically, yes. I told her I was already taken.”

Your pen stops mid-scribble. “By who?”

He smirks. “Guess.”

You shove your binder at him.

He laughs, catching it before it knocks over his iced coffee. “God, I missed this.”

“Missed what?”

“This,” he gestures between the two of you, “You. Us. The banter. The way you always look like you’re this close to throwing something at my face.”

You pause, unsure how to answer that. Because yeah. You missed it too.

But before you can say anything, Dr. Yuki calls for everyone’s attention again to go over the schedule for their next meeting and check-ins, and the moment passes. The last fifteen minutes of class drag by in a haze of dates and reminders, but Gojo doesn’t stop sneaking glances at you.

And you don’t stop feeling the way your cheeks heat every time he does.

As soon as class is dismissed, you’re halfway to packing up when he nudges your notebook.

“You free tomorrow night?”

You give him a wary look. “For what?”

“Project planning, obviously,” he says, batting his lashes. “Unless you’d rather I just show up at your place again and wait for a personal striptease.”

You groan. “You’re never going to shut up about that, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

“Fine. Tomorrow night. Library. Eight. Public space, no teasing.”

He smirks. “I make no promises.”

You grab your coffee and your bag, lingering just long enough to catch the little curve of his mouth as he watches you go.

And you hate how giddy it makes you feel.

taglist: comment if you want to be added

@linaaeatsfamilies

@eolivy

@whiter4bbitcorner

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #geto suguru #gojo x reader #jjk fanfiction #jjk shoko

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penkura · 10 months ago

Text

last forever [10/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: I kind of hate how Zoro dresses in Dressrosa. He doesn't look right. Oh well. This isn't how I thought this chapter would go, but, I hope it works. I'm more excited for the last couple chapters! (don't worry, we are not glossing over Dressrosa in where you belong, it's way too important for that)

Taglist:

@misfits1a | @alucardsdaddyissues | @louweasleymalfoy | @fluffybunnyu

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6] ● [Ch. 7] ● [Ch. 8] ● [Ch. 9]

Trafalgar Law doesn’t get you and Zoro, he’s not sure he’s seen two crewmates as close as you two are without there being something romantic going on, whether hidden or not. While your crew was separated, you were lucky enough to miss being body swapped with another of your crewmates, choosing to stay with them and watch over the children they’d tried to rescue while Zoro went with Brook and Sanji (in Nami’s body at the time) to bring back the Samurai missing his torso. You’re sure you didn’t miss too much, and that Sanji or Zoro would fill you in later.

Once the alliance between your crew and the Heart Pirates is set in place, you start trying to speak to Law more, even with your personal issues, you’d like to make friends with him l though he seems like he doesn’t care for the most part. Sanji just tells you to ignore it and not take it personally if Law doesn’t really talk to you, he doesn’t appear to be the talkative type to him. You still try once all of you, including Kin’emon and Momonosuke, are back on Sunny, Law beginning to open up a little bit and talk to you, which makes you smile.

He still notices how you’ll hang onto or around Zoro more than anyone, how he doesn’t push you off, he almost looks like he leans into you, especially when you start to say something to him. You are very odd, both of you. If there’s anything going on, nobody shows that they know anything, so Law leaves it alone. It’s not his problem anyway.

When you hear that this alliance is going to lead you towards Wano, Law thinks he’s the only one who notices the slight flinch that comes from you, giving you a side eye that you try to ignore. You’ve had no problem being around Kin’emon and Momonosuke, but hearing Wano be mentioned is enough to make you act differently, just slightly. Zoro noticed this too, giving you a confused look while you just smile at him, you don’t want to explain anything yet. Not right now anyway, another time.

It's not like you’re going to run into your fiancé or anything.

“So, have you been to Dressrosa?”

Law shakes his head at you, you’d walked over and again struck up a conversation with him, leaning against the railing. Everyone else is doing their own thing, whatever Sanji is making for dinner is making you hungry while you wait.

“Have you? Seems like you know about Wano.”

You flinch a tiny bit again, but shake your head in return.

“No, never been to the New World until now. My parents have been out to Wano before…”

“They never brought you?”

“I…never wanted to go…”

Before Law can try and get more information out of you, information you may not be comfortable sharing, Zoro calls for you to follow him to crow’s nest, and you quickly tell Law you’ll talk to him later as you run off. He still can’t tell what it is with you and Zoro, but there’s something he’s missing, he's sure of it.

Well, whatever it is, if it doesn’t mess up the plan, it’s not Law’s problem right now. There’s more pressing matters to worry about, not your weird relationship with Zoro.

+!+

You end up on the Caesar drop off team once you all arrive in Dressrosa, being with Robin, Usopp, and Law. Zoro at first doesn’t like the idea, he feels like you’re getting too close to Law, even after you constantly telling your husband that you love him. He partly wonders if his only stating that his stating that he knows and thanking you is making you drift away, but even if it is, he can’t force you to stay with him, despite your relationship. It’s still new no matter how long you’ve technically been married, Zoro doesn’t want to hinder you from going where you want, you’d had enough of that living with your parents.

You deserve to do whatever you want, he’s not going to stop you from going with Law, especially since Robin and Usopp will be with you.

Zoro does surprise you before letting you go back to everyone by kissing your forehead and telling you to be safe. It’s still weird to you sometimes how soft he acts, but you don’t hate it at all. It’s a stark difference from how you two started off, how he acted after your impromptu marriage, and a very welcome change.

What’s not so welcome is all that happens while you’re in Dressrosa. The initial plan to drop off Caesar was going well, even with your encounters with giant sea beasts that threatened your safety crossing the bridge, up until you, Usopp, and Robin are basically kidnapped by the Tontatta people, who come to view Usopp like a savior despite your side-eye towards him that he fights to ignore.

When you eventually make it back into Dressrosa everything moves so fast, you aren’t sure what’s happening half the time. You knew where most of your crew still in Dressrosa were, you knew the Sunny had taken off towards Zou with the rest of them, and knew Luffy and Law were in the middle of fighting Doflamingo, while the birdcage the Warlord had set up was beginning to close in on the country, moving buildings and causing the citizens to run for their lives.

You do your best to help direct them, alongside the Marines that were around, not one of them bothering to try and take you in due to the situation. There’s so much going on and so many people screaming in fear that you don’t even stop moving towards the center yourself while you call for people to follow you. You aren’t even sure how it happens but a boy and his little sister end up attached to you, the girl having you carry her since she’d twisted her ankle as her brother holds onto your hand while you keep moving, telling him to keep running too.

You don’t stop until you see the strings are fading away, giving you the relief you need to finally breathe, the kids both gripping onto you like you’re their only hope for safety (not even a Marine could get them to let go of you).

The two are still holding onto you when Zoro finds you a bit later, he’s trying not to make the worry he felt for you the whole time visible. Of course he was focused wholly on his own battle against Pica then attempting to stop the birdcage, but every second he didn’t see you had him concerned underneath it all.

“Hey! There you are!”

You barely have a moment to realize it’s even him before Zoro has you pulled to him in a hug, nearly squishing the little girl you’re still holding, though she doesn’t seem to complain. Her brother is the one to say something, making you pull yourself away from Zoro, who looks confused as to why you’re carrying this toddler with her brother gripping your shirt still.

“I was helping them run from the birdcage, the girl twisted her ankle. I…should go help them find their parents, huh?”

While you laugh at the situation, Zoro doesn’t say anything else, instead just nodding while you crouch down to eye level with the boy, giving him a smile and asking him to help you find their parents. Zoro does go with you, not wanting you out of his sight again to ensure you get back to the rest of the group safely, keeping one of his hands on your back to make sure he doesn’t lose you, moving to your shoulders after you finally find the parents of the kids and hand them off, not without copious amounts of thank you’s from them, especially their mother.

“You almost seem disappointed.”

Looking up at Zoro, you raise an eyebrow as he continues to lead you back to Luffy and everyone else.

“Handing them back to their parents. Almost like you wish they were yours.”

“Oh,” Shaking your head, you smile a bit, “No, I’m glad they’re back with them…I’d like to have one or two someday, but not now, you know? We’ve got bigger things to do.”

Zoro nods and agrees with you, but he doesn’t tell you his own thoughts about that at the moment. Another time perhaps, he’ll let you know that he wants the same thing later on, once everything has been settled with your respective goals.

He’ll become the world’s greatest swordsman and you’ll become a world renowned swordswoman, one day.

Then after that, you can revisit that idea of having kids together.

If you stay together, that is.

+!+

Leaving Dressrosa, finally, you’re excited to get back to the rest of your crew and the Sunny, and, you suppose, head for Wano next. The thought still makes you feel nervous, but what are the chances you run into your parents chosen suitor for you while you’re there?

Very slim, this is the time of year he takes off to one of his current wives’ hometowns, likely showing off his wealth or their newest child, whatever the case you’re glad for Zoro rescuing you from such a life.

Still, it’s the only hang-up with the alliance and your coming arrival there, making you more nervous the closer you get. Robin knows your reason why, you’d told her and Nami recently about the situation, and both promised to keep the man away from you should they see him, or, well, hear of him, since they don’t know what he looks like. Law notices you acting strange, different from how he’s come to perceive you, though he doesn’t say anything, it’s not his place to do so, he thinks. Usopp, Franky, and even Luffy seem none the wiser, not noticing any changes from you.

Zoro however does, and keeps you close to him where he can just in case you need him. A few times while on Bartolomeo’s ship, you leave his side to talk to Robin or Law, maybe Luffy if he’s nearby, but Zoro keeps an eye on you, he can tell something is up but he isn’t sure what.

That doesn’t change when you all arrive and make it to the top of Zou, as you work your way through the remnants of what looked to be a city and then the forest, before you’re finally guided to the rest of your crew by the Minks. The absence of Sanji is obvious and when you hear the explanation as to why he isn’t there, you feel your heart drop at the words ‘arranged marriage’ from Brook. So you two had the same problem, parents trying to decide what’s best for you and how you should live your life, forcing you into loveless marriages. Somehow it makes more sense as to why you and Sanji are so drawn to each other, why your friendship is so strong. He’s gone through his own struggles too.

Your swordsman’s watchful eye stays on you after that, even as a party is thrown that evening to celebrate the Minks safety, Raizou reuniting with Kin’emon and Kanjuro, and possibly your arrival. Zoro doesn’t let you out of his sight, even while you’re across the way with Nami, Robin, and Ikkaku from the Heart Pirates. He watches you quietly talk with them, laughing every now and then as you down drink after drink and he’s wondering what’s gotten into you. You don’t normally drink or eat this much, but it’s almost like something has triggered you to do so.

He knows you’re going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning and you might get sick from everything you’ve eaten, making Zoro sigh when he does get up from his own spot, leaving his drink there, to cut you off.

There’s got to be something you aren’t telling him.

“How much did you drink?”

Your slurred speech and incessant giggles make Zoro roll his eye while he takes you to a room the Minks set aside for you to stay in. You're over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, which you'd normally complain about, but the amount of alcohol in your system is keeping coherent sentences from leaving your mouth.

“Dumbass, you know you can't handle your liquor.”

“Hehehe, sorry…” you giggle again and try to lift your head, but it makes everything spin so you just let yourself hang while Zoro takes you to your room. “Drinks good.”

“I know.”

“Food good.”

“I know that too.”

“Nausea not good…”

“You throw up on me and I'm dropping your ass on the ground.”

Your giggles and hiccups make Zoro smile slightly. You were more than likely coping with Sanji not being there with everyone, seeing as how he'd become your closest friend and confidant, but that didn't mean you needed to try and match Zoro, of all people, in how much you could drink. Hell, you even tried to match Luffy with the amount of food you ate, it was no wonder you felt nauseous, though, Zoro does realize that the way he's carrying you isn't helping. So once he reaches the set of treehouses you'd been granted by the Minks to stay in, he adjusts you to where you've got your arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist to keep you from falling, telling you to hold on or you'd fall to your death which made you laugh and tighten your hold on him.

“You'd never let me fall…remember?”

He does, he remembers telling you that after you landed on Skypiea, when you were nervous about joining them on the cloud sea. How drunk you could bring that up, and sound so sentimental about it at the same time, he doesn't understand.

Once Zoro gets you to your room, he drops you on your bed and moves to leave, before you grab hold of him and almost start begging him not to go. It's several minutes of you telling him to stay, and Zoro denying, before he notices your demeanor, how you're about to cry.

He'd forgotten how emotional of a drunk you could be.

“Hey, what's wrong with you?”

“I…I just…I missed you.”

Your statement confuses Zoro immensely. You two had stayed in Dressrosa together, you'd been on Bartolomeo's ship on the way to Zou, how could you have possibly missed him?

Granted, yes, he understands you two had been separated for a good portion of your time in Dressrosa, and then again on your trip to Zou as you were helping Robin and Law with various things while Zoro was minding Luffy mostly, but you two still had time to talk and spend time with each other. Even a few nights sharing a bed because you couldn't stand to be away from him, despite your still not being sure where you two stand as friends or a couple or what you are.

“What do you mean you missed me?”

“I…I don't…” You sniffle a bit before covering your face with your hands, biting your lip and trying not to cry more. Zoro thinks you're so wasted you don't even know what you're saying, but he still tries to get an answer out of you.

“Hey, come on, talk to me. I know you're drunk but I wanna know what you mean.”

“I just…I missed you…while we were all apart. Did I…I ever tell you?”

You hadn't, not until now. Everything had moved so fast after you all came back together in Sabaody, that you'd not really gotten to talk to each other about your two years apart. Zoro figured you missed him, especially with how you attached yourself to him lately, but didn't think it was that bad. Something had seemed slightly off at times, but he never knew what it was.

“I had…nightmares about you…”

His brows furrow and Zoro finally relents to you, letting you pull him into your bed and hug him close, like you thought he was going to disappear. Zoro returns your hold and keeps you close as possible, before he quietly responds to you.

“What happened in the nightmares?”

Surely it couldn't be that bad, it wasn't something that made you afraid of him that was for certain. Even sober, you'd never be so close to him if you were afraid of him.

“You…Thriller Bark and Sabaody…I…I thought you were gonna die…”

Finally, Zoro has an answer as to why, after everything that happened at Thriller Bark, you were in his bed in tears nearly every night before your crew was separated. Why you had attached yourself to him even more than usual. It wasn't nightmares about your parents, about the man they wanted you to marry, no. It was nightmares about him not making it through those events that took place.

He wants to tell you that those are stupid nightmares and that he wasn't dying anytime soon, he wanted to tell you that.

But for some reason, he doesn't. He's not even sure why, the words just won't come out. He knows it would soothe you to hear him say that, even if for that night, but if more nightmares come?

He's not sure simple reassurance is enough.

“Do you…still have those nightmares?”

You shake your head, snuggling yourself closer to Zoro, hoping he'll stay with you.

“No…I'm okay now. Cause I know you'll come back to me.”

Zoro still doesn't say anything, just watching you finally fall asleep. He's not even sure if he believes you, but the fact that you hadn't gone to his bed in tears every night since you all reunited, he views as a good thing, you probably are telling the truth. It is annoying, that he feels responsible for your distress when he didn't really do anything to cause it. The life you live is a dangerous one, you know that and Zoro knows that, better than anyone most likely.

So, that's why, while he quietly, gently kisses your forehead, Zoro brings you closer to him and makes a promise you don't hear and even if you did, you wouldn't remember in the morning.

“I promise, as long as I'm married to you, I'm not gonna die. You're my wife…and I'm gonna keep you safe too.”

+!+

With everyone getting ready to leave the next morning, Nami stops just long enough to give you a raised eyebrow when she comes to get you. You’ve got a blanket around your shoulders and the grumpiest look she’s ever seen from you, but that’s not what has her attention.

It's the fact that Zoro is still in your room, mainly the fact he’s in your bed, and she starts to get ideas that make her give you a sly look. You’re about to slam the door in her face when she throws an arm around your shoulders and brings you close to whisper.

“Give me all the details and I won’t charge you to keep this a secret~”

“Nothing happened, Nami. I was drunk and fell asleep, now please, get me some medicine and water, my head is killing me.”

Rolling her eyes, Nami doesn’t fully believe you, but she shrugs it off.

“Whatever. So,” pulling you closer, your navigator gets even quieter, just in case Zoro or someone else is listening, “Are you going to be okay…? Going to Wano, I mean…”

“Nami—”

“I don’t think Luffy will care if you come with us to get Sanji back, but Zoro might.”

You sigh and nod, your head still aching but you glance over your shoulder to Zoro still asleep in your bed, thinking. She’s right in that Luffy would likely let you go to retrieve Sanji, but Zoro may fight against that if you did so. Not because he thinks you’re weak or anything, but because it’s for Sanji, you and Nami know very well how those men are with each other.

After another moment or two, you finally nod again.

“I’m going to go to Wano. Zoro will be there…I’ll be okay, Nami.”

She’s not sure she believes you, but Nami gives you a hug anyway, that you return without saying anything else.

“I’ll get Chopper to bring you some medicine. See if you can wake your boyfriend or husband, whatever you guys are calling each other. Breakfast is about ready.”

“Sounds good, thanks for everything.”

You wave each other before you’re caught off guard by Zoro wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Feel okay, wife? Not gonna get sick on Traffy’s ship when we leave, right?”

Giggling a little, you shake your head.

“No, I’ll be fine, Zoro, thanks.”

Nodding, Zoro hugs you a little tighter, making you look up at him.

“You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”

“Yeah,” you smile a bit, which causes Zoro to do the same in return, “I know.”

Everything will be okay, nothing bad is going to happen, not with Zoro around.

#zoro x reader #one piece x reader #reader insert #last forever #fem!reader #roronoa zoro x reader

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