#like i really just want to be able to hold you and cook you dinner

[raspberrysgod]

it still so crazy that one day you just don’t love someone anymore like after a year i just can’t feel anything that i once had when staring right in front of the person i want to spend everyday with.

[promisingyounglady]

accident. | JP x Reader

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Wife!Reader

SYNOPSIS: we all make accidents. javier forgetting to pick you up at the train station was an accident. you forgetting to bring an umbrella was an accident. throwing a knife at your husband? you’re going to have prove that one was an accident to him.

WC: 3.6k

WARNINGS: SMUT, angst, mentions of weapons and knives, reader throws a knife at javier *just read you’ll find out*, implied age gap, established relationship, javier is a bit older than reader, domestic au, slight dom!javi, mentions of food and cooking, profanity, bratty!reader, reader is mean but javier can be meaner, floor sex, creampie, unprotected sex, spanking, handcuffs, cum eating, brief oral (f recieving), slight non-con, rough sex, praise, degradation, post-sex sweetness, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE: obsessed and mentally ill. so here’s slightly dom!javi with a ton of angst

A headache ensues in Javier’s mind.

He tries to combat it with the clouds of smoke rising through the air, the comfortable scent of tobacco and cigarettes filling his nose as he takes a drag from the stick perched in between his blistered fingers, this inhale, longer than the last.

Today had been shit. It really had. All day he had been cooped up in the office with stacks of paperwork almost taller than himself, tossed onto him and Murphy's desk by the higher ups, a high demand for deadlines with their patience being low.

Javier had been sitting in his office for almost seven hours straight, looking at papers with tiny writing and filing reports with pen until sensitive pink blisters formed around a hand that should’ve been driving and carrying a gun today, out in the field on a mission another team had instead been tasked with.

He’s getting old for this stuff, and he knows its true when he feels a strain in his back from shifting in his seat.

Maybe that’s why they shoved the paperwork in the old man’s hands.

Javier leans forward, grabbing his almost empty pack of cigarettes from his desk, deciding a fourth one was necessary for tonight.

“Javier,” a voice calls for him, looking up when he sees the new secretary holding the phone facing her chest. “You’ve got a call”

“From who” he says gruffly, brows furrowed. He lights the cigarette with his lighter, tossing it onto his desk and taking another puff.

“It’s your wife,” The secretary states. “she’s asking what you want for dinner.”

Javier stops in the middle of flicking the ashes, letting the cigarette sit warm in his fingers when he turns his head so he could see her correctly.

Your sweet voice calls out through the receiver, a chill running down Javier's spine when he makes out that it really is you.

“Yeah, Sherry, it’s fine if he’s busy, just let him know I called. Tell him dinner’ll be late tonight, at around 10.” you piped up sweetly, saying goodbye to your husband's secretary before hanging up the call.

She leaves after telling him what he already heard, but Javier is quick to immediately put out the burning cigarette and quickly grab his coat, making his way out the office.

“Peña, Where are you going? We only got a few more stacks left” Murphy calls out, hair in a mess from the many stressful tugs and his own cigarette nestled in between his fingers.

“my wife.” Javier replies, suddenly not liking the bitter taste in his mouth.

“It’s raining outside, you’re gonna get drenched” the blonde tells him, shaking his head as he took a drag from his own cancer stick.

Javier stops in his tracks, looking outside the window to see his partner was right. It was pouring out there, hardly able to even make out the cars in the parking lot.

Him getting wet was the least of his worries. It was you, he was thinking of.

“Fucking hell.”

_

You set the receiver down on the living room table. The ticking of the clock resonating in the silent house before a sigh finally escaping your lips.

Droplets of rain water cloud your vision, cheeks pink from the cold as water dripped onto your wooden floorboards.

Fists clench and unclench around the handle of the umbrella given to you by an old lady at the train station.

“A girl like yourself shouldn’t be alone in the rain, mija” she insisted, letting you take her frilly umbrella as her son would pick her up shortly.

Javier was supposed to pick you up too.

But after forty minutes of standing out in the rainy weather under a flimsy roof as you waited for his truck to pick you up, you disappointedly caught a taxi and drove home by yourself

You were returning from your visit to your sick grandmother. You were her only granddaughter who she called the week prior, telling you how she missed you and wanted you to visit.

Javier insisted you went, not wanting to hold you back and assured he would come to pick you up at the station after the weekend spent with her.

What a fucking liar, you thought to yourself.

You quickly undressed your wet clothes, the outcome of having to have walked in rain to find an available taxi this evening.

You're curious to see the look on Javier’s face when you make him beg on his knees and ask for forgiveness. Maybe you wouldn’t even kiss him tonight, thinking in silence as you prepared for dinner.

You definitely weren’t trying to think about what an excellent opportunity this was to be a brat.

—

Javier parks into his quiet drive way exactly thirty minutes before 10. That’s thirty minutes of trying to get on your good graces and pray that he wouldn’t be sleeping outside tonight.

When he opens the door to the house, his heart beats fast. Prepared to see you ready to lash out at him, he’s instead surprised with the aromas of spices and your homemade cooking wafting to his nose, unconsciously realizing that he skipped lunch today from how caught up he was with work.

Picking up your wet jacket from the floor, Javier slots his keys and sunglasses in the bowl by the entrance, hanging his own jacket as well before he makes his way quietly to the glowing kitchen.

The stovepot is on a low boil, and he sees you in a long t-shirt, one that you made sure wasn’t his. Your hair is damp, probably from a shower as you swiftly work your hands away in prepping the vegetables.

Javier mumbles quietly in a gruff voice. “You, uh, left your coat on the floor.”

Thwack.

An aggressive chop at the carrots replaces your words, each cut piercing louder like a gunshot ringing in his ears.

“Hermosa, I am so sorry.“ Javier begins sighing because he knows he fucked up real bad this time.

Thwack. You moved onto the chicken meat.

“There’s no excuse baby, I wasn’t keeping track after being cooped up in the office today.” he sighs, brows furrowing as big brown eyes stared into your back.

Thwack. Thwack.

The DEA agent flinches at the sound of the raw chicken being butchered by your swift, angry hands. You’re not facing Javier directly and yet he can already see your glaring eyes. He sighs, not wanting to fight you. He tries to lighten the mood, voice soft as he comments.

“Qué te ha hecho ese pobre pollo”

You don’t reply, let alone acknowledge your husband, continuing to brutally dice the chicken on the cutting board before turning around to wash your hands.

Javier watches you swiftly work in your kitchen, feeling sorry as he still watches you prepare dinner for the two of you after such a long train ride.

He moves forward, rolling his sleeves as he tries to help you . “Querida, I’ll help with the pot-”

The clang of the knife hitting the cutting board echoes in the kitchen, finally looking up to face your husband. Javier leans back, resting against the kitchen counter, arms crossed and gun holsters unremoved after coming home.

You try to ignore how tired he genuinely looks, reminding yourself you were just the same when standing all alone for that one hour.

“Y’know what Javier?” You begin, eyes watering and nose twitching in anger. Javier stays silent, staring at you with sincerity.

“Fuck you” you spit, pointing an accusing finger at the man. “fuck you and your fucking DEA work, Javier”

“Mi-”

“I had to wait forty minutes outside in rainy weather, trying to see if every car passing by would be yours.” you said, voice breaking towards the end. You felt uncomfortable waiting by yourself.

Javier shuts his eyes, forehead wrinkling as he tries to calm you down. He draws your name out in a firm but gentle tone.

You ignore him, replacing his words with your attitude. “You always do this!” you exclaim, voice rising.

“Leaving your wife and family second while you think it’s cool to go and chase criminals while risking your goddamn life.” You mutter, glaring at your husband.

“I didn’t want to leave you at the station all alone, honey. I’ve been sitting at my desk since afternoon drowning in paperwork the higher-ups dumped on us” he presses, eyes sincere but patience wearing thin.

You scoff, shaking your head. “So even stupid paperwork makes you forget your wife.”

Javier pinches his nose bridge, his head pounding as he tries to communicate with you.

You go back to cutting your vegetables, mumbling under your breath. “Who the fuck in Bogotá is giving you credit for slaving away all day trying to catch Escobar, hm?”

The words pierce through Javier’s heart.

Your eyes light up in fake sarcasm. “Oh, I bet it’s the fact that you’re too busy being a fucking doormat to all the younger agents at work aren’t you? What, Murphy said he can’t do his share of the work so he gave you his leftovers?” You spit.

“Hey," Javier snapped, gruffly and darkly. He looked at you, eyes narrowed and dark. "Stop it. I've told you."

Anger gets the best of you as you turn to the cutting board. Grabbing the first thing you saw.

A carrot piece shoots in his way. Javier flinches, the food hitting his chest. Your husband stands there, stunned at his wife’s childish behavior.

“Go fuck yourself, Peña” you say menacingly.

“We don’t throw food in this house, mama” he barks, hands on the hips of his belt, gun and badge tucked in his back. He would never use them on you.

A celery stick slaps Javier in the face this time, making his patience hanging on by a thread even thinner.

Maybe he could whip out the handcuffs.

“Dont you fucking call me that!” you said spitefully, throwing anything and everything you could at the man who dodged your attacks.

“Querida!” Javier raises his voice at you, a growl in his words.

You felt the cold, hard material in your hands for a split second before you’re throwing it at him, almost wondering yourself why you were getting so angry at Javier.

You didn’t want to fight this bad, but at the same time you were sick of watching him work himself to death, forgetting about you. This wasn’t the first time he did something like this.

But you already crossed that line. You both stand in silence, holding your breath as you realized what you threw.

Now it was your turn to fuck things up.

Javier’s lip snarls and his mustache is in a scary frown when he shifts his head.

Only a few inches beside his face lands a dull potato knife, wedged in the kitchen cupboards above. It wouldn’t have worked on anything since it was unsharpened and unused, but the tremendous force you had thrown it with allowed it to have been lodged in the wood.

You gasp, hands flying to cover your mouth.

You both watch Javier slowly raise his hand, pulling the knife inches beside his head with ease before tossing it into the sink. The clatter of the metal blade hitting the sink rings in the kitchen. A swarm of guilt fills your chest as you stand still in fear.

“Javi… I-I’m so sorry” you say, heart beating against your chest, cautiously awaiting a reaction from him.

Javier dusts off the carrot peels on his shoulder, watching as his jaw tenses but shoulders relax.

“Come here.” he all but says quietly. You see Javier reaching for his back pocket, taking out his gun and badge and placing it on the counter.

That wasn’t what scared you.

What scared you was then seeing Javier pull out the silver handcuffs lodged in his back pocket. Your eyes widened at the sight of him playing around with them.

“Javi, I’ll go get the-“

“Come. Here.” Javier cuts you off, staring at you with dark eyes.

You swiftly shake your head, refusing to go. “It was an accident!” You exclaimed, dashing out the kitchen as you tried to escape Javier who was hot on your heels.

“Honey.” he says in a not so endearing way, a warning edge to his voice.

Tears littered your cheeks, knowing that you pushed Javier’s limits and that he would really punish you for how bratty you had been tonight.

You gasp, running up the stairs before strong arms encaged your frame, desperately trying to escape before shrieking in surprise as Javier hoisted you over his shoulder, a loud and painful smack being brought down to your ass by his strong hands. You grimaced, helplessly being brought to the kitchen in swift strides.

”It was an accident, I’m sorry, I was just so angry!” You wailed, groaning as your back hit the carpeted floors of your living room. Your vision was hazy, the dizziness getting to you as you saw Javier leave the room into the kitchen, and come back a few moments later. This time, he was unbuttoning his shirt, his forest of chest hair and strong muscles peeking through.

Javier took a deep breath, eying the way your t-shirt had hiked all the way up so your panties were showing. Your hair spread around your head like a halo, and he noticed how you clenched your thighs together in vulnerability.

“Some accidents need to be punished, baby” he muttered darkly.

You sobbed softly, nose red as you turned your head to the side, looking away from Javi’s menacing look. He didn’t mind, he knew once he was done messing with you, you would be clawing at his chest, begging him to fuck you properly while looking into his eyes. Javier leans down at your level, crawling on your body so he was on top and you were trapped on the bottom. He rips your t-shirt off of you, leaving you in your bare state with panties flimsy enough he could rip them with his teeth. Not today though, he had other things in mind.

He coos at your weak state, dropping his head so he could press a kiss to your sensitive neck, giving a small nip that made you yelp. Two large hands come to play with your nipples, pulling each one hard in between his fingers as you moaned hysterically.

“What did I say about being fucking mean?” He says roughly. He inhales your scent, smelling a sweet sense of fear.

“Carino,” a warm voice calls out, you can feel the grin spreading on Javier’s face. You cry in a mix of pain and pleasure when he flips you on your tummy, cheek pressing against the rough carpet material as Javier slots his hard member encased in his jeans, right by the curve of your ass.

“Answer me, mama”

A clinking of metal makes you cry out in protest. No, you wanted to say, feeling Javier cuff you behind your back like you were one of his petty drug thiefs. But a slap to your ass cheek makes you gasp, eyes shutting as Javier pulls your panties off.

”Being mean gets me punished” you responded softly, a pool of desire aching in your folds as you almost tutted your ass up to show him you were ready. “I’m sorry, Javier” you sniffled quietly, hoping he would hear.

Javier laughs, cocking his head to the side as one hand groped the flesh of your bum, and the other undid his belt buckle. The sound makes your mouth water, wondering if he’ll let you suck him off too for forgiveness.

“So you do know how to be nice?” He groans, giving you no time before his hard members penetrates your entrance, head turning back and eyes rolling when you clenched around his dick so well. “Javier!” You screamed, eyes rolling back in pleasure from the strong stretch.

Your arms ached, desperate for release so you could brace yourself against the floor for every hard thrust your husband would give you.

“Listen carefully, querida” he moans into your ear, humping you as you moaned loudly. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me fill you up, alright?” When there was no answer, he slapped your cheek again, this time echoing throughout the living room and leaving a red splotch on your ass. “Answer me.” He growled, patience growing thin from your pathetic wailing.

You grit your teeth, hating the fact that you were supposed to be mad at Javier for forgetting about you, and yet here you were receiving back shots with a stinging red ass.

”Yes, Javier” you said back, feeling his girth stretch your walls.

”Good. And once I’m done fucking my pretty wife, you’re gonna suck me off like you mean it. That sounds good mi amor?”

You nodded in return, eyes shut and panting like a slut from the feeling of Javier slowing down his thrusts, deepening every stroke.

“Yes, Javier” you repeated.

He smiled, kissing your neck sweetly, contrasting his hip movements. “Thank you, mama” he replied, cherishing your sweet moans and gasps as he went at a deeper, harder pace.

It’s delirious, the whole situation. You feel as though you’re on cloud nine with the way Javier is so possessive of you, caging you like a butterfly in his garden with the apple of desire.

You felt sinful. You felt glorious. You needed his release to fill you up so badly.

“Javi…” you muttered, tits starting to get carpet burn from being fucked against the ground.

“I know mama, you’re doing so good for me. Taking your lesson so well” he groans, sweat beading at his forehead.

You were aching and begging for orgasm, but feeling Javier rut into you so passionately made it all worth it. It dissolved any anger, any resentment from earlier because you knew how good he could take care of you.

“You’re so fucking mean sometimes, you know that?” he tells you, brows furrowed and concentrated on fucking the daylights out of you. You could feel the handprints marking your hips, wondering how many of Javier’s marks would be on you tomorrow morning.

“I know” you sigh, feeling a slap come down on your ass as you groan louder.

“You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes, you know that too?” you pant, squirming under your cuffs. Javier shudders, your walls sucking him a little too well.

“I know.” He says back gruffly.

Javier feels the knot untying in his stomach, too late to tell you verbally as you felt his warm seed leak inside, cumming first.

“Merida”

You were also close, loving how despite already coming, Javier was fucking you so that you could cum too.

”I’m gonna” you pant, forgetting to finish your words as you felt hot liquid threatening to spill from every stroke he made in your hole.

Javier whispers, pressing ticklish kisses from his mustache to your bare shoulder. “Cum on my cock, baby, you know what to do” he muttered, both of you groaning loudly as both your releases became mixed inside you.

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you scream, hair a mess and pussy aching.

You feel dizzy, used but happy, shivering as a large sludge of your cum spills out and drips down your thigh to the carpet.

Javier is quick to lap you up with his tongue, slotting his face in your ass as he filthily cleans you up.

“Can you get these off me, please?” you ask him meekly, relishing the feeling of your sensitive wrists when they touch the cool air.

Your husband presses a kiss to each one, marking your ass and shoulders with playful hickeys and bruises.

You both catch your breath for a moment, Javier turning you over so you were facing the ceiling, your sensitive tits perking up.

It’s all so sudden but before you two realize it, you’re latching onto each other immediately, hungrily sharing a kiss as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Hermosa,” he tries to begin, before being shushed by you, pulling him back in to lovingly kiss your husband.

Sure, rough sex was great, but god did you love just kissing Javier absentmindedly. You had to touch each other, kiss each other, that was how you two made up.

“Lo siento, hermosa” he sighs, wanting to get lost in your embrace. You smile, knowing that Javier is sincere. “Me too.” You reply, voices hushed as it was now later in the night, the neighbors probably aware of what had happened next door. A moment passes.

“Didn’t you say you wanted me to suck you off?” you asked innocently, gazing up at Javier as your head rested on his chest.

He grins, softly whispering a later as he played with your hair, cock soft against his thigh as your leg nudges it playfully.

He growls, nipping your ear. “Behave” he says firmly, cheeks rosy. This time you listen.

“Who picked you up today then if I didn’t come?” Javi asks, reaching over to wrap a blanket around you two near the fireplace.

You smile, knowing that you can’t always listen to Javier’s warnings. “Just some cute young taxi driver. Asked me for my number y’know” you grinned.

Javier looks down, eyes darkening as he mutters softly. “Unless you’re gonna be a brat again, you better watch yourself” he reaches for your mound, cupping you softly so you moan in pleasure, still sensitive from the previous activities. He hoists you above his stomach, feeling your nails scratch his pudge and bend down as you give him a kiss. “I’m just messing with you” you giggle, a familiar feeling coming back when his bare cock is nestled by your thighs. “He was old. A grandpapi” you said, feeling his hands roam the flesh of your ass.

You press a hand against Javier’s chest, giggling as you peck his jawline. He rolls his eyes, hands wrapping around your waist instinctively.

“I missed you.” he mutters, feeling you up.

You smile, remembering how warm it is on top of your husband before you shut your eyes softly.“Me too.”

You look up, apologizing to him. “Sorry for almost stabbing you with that knife”

You feel the vibrations and sounds of a loud chuckle, Javier holding on to you. “It was an accident” you mumble, circling shapes on his skin. He knows.

You make up for it by leaning in, pressing kisses under the shell of his ear. Whispering how you’ll let him stuff his cock in your mouth again to get even.

Fuck it, he thinks. He’d let you kill him anyday.

[kissatsumu]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ IWAIZUMI HAJIME boyfriend hcs !

— gender neutral reader, fluff, timeskip

— masterlist + requests

Iwaizumi Hajime (27) athletic trainer, oh the man that you are <3

Iwaizumi is the type of boyfriend who keeps whatever your essentials are on him all the time just in case you need it (hairties, chapstick, hand sanitizer, gum, etc.)

pet names he’d call you: angel, baby, sweetheart, pretty girl/boy, honey

now pet names for him, he’ll literally let you call him anything you want. (even if its a really cringy one like snookums or bubbas lmao he’ll just laugh or roll his eyes) but his favorites are definitely dear or love! he also loves if you call him handsome <3

hajime who has never been the type of guy to take many pictures. but once he started dating you, he suddenly always has his phone out and taking candid pics of you. (by no means is he a good photographer but just loves having you in him camera roll). definitely has you as his lock screen too!!

he’s a really good cook. he loves cooking for you whenever you come over. (but also like please stay out of the kitchen and let him do his thing)

he prefers simple dates with you. dinner, picnic, walks around the city or a park, stargazing, etc. he just wants to spend time with you

okay okay i want to talk about hand placement!!!! hajime always places a hand on your lower back to gently bring you in closer when he kisses you. this or he likes to hold your hands in his.

when walking with you, if you’re not holding his hand, he really likes when you cling to his arm <3 or he likes having his arm around your shoulders

he definitely follows the sidewalk rule (walking on the side close to the street to keep you safe) its kind of old fashioned but he kinda does it instinctively

also kind of old fashioned but he is such the type of guy who keeps a photo of you in his wallet

very slowly hinting to you that he wants you to move in with him. he’s so cute he just wants to be able to cook for you, wake up with you, and come home to you every day

his love language is acts of service. he feels that he’s able to express his love for you best by doing things that make you feel happy n loved

iwaizumi hajime who would absolutely adore his partner :(((

notes: ty for reading! interactions are appreciated and my requests are open😋 good night <3

[spicybunni]

YANDERE HUSBAND HEADCANONS

Hello Darlings! This is an imagine I had in my drafts about a husband who just loves his wife so much he wants to care for and impregnate her💕 Hope you like it!

WARNINGS ⚠️: NSFW!! (Minors do NOT interact), NSFW descriptions, fem!darling, controlling husband, pregnancy mentions

-You’ve been Married to your husband for a year now and it’s been great. The biggest change was your last name changing to his and having a big rock on your finger. The second was him asking you to be a stay-at-home wife…

-You loved your job but…how could you say no to all your needs being met by a man who worships and adores you? He just wants to take care of you and be comfortable. “Is that so bad of me to want for my little wifey?” He would ask while kissing the knuckle of your hand.

-He told you if you didn’t like the lifestyle that you could go back to working. (As if he was gonna let that happen.) which made you feel better about just being at home all day and spending his money. And also letting you believe you had some control. But of course that wasn’t the end of his plans..

-Before having unprotected sex your husband would always gush about having babies with you and how great of a mother you would be. Your face would turn red at the thought at first but then you brushed it off as your husband having baby fever. It’ll pass right?

-Ha. If only it was a phase.

-This man has been wanting to impregnate you since the first year of you two dating. He loves you so much and think life would be even more amazing if you carried and raised children together. He wants to see your big belly and be there for when you get needy and become oh so helpless with the excessive hormones.

-But despite not using protection you always tracked your period for your health. Your husband started to get into it as well to lookout for your ovulation week. His favorite time of the month.

-He would low key get a little bummed out when you would start your period. But it gave him motivation to try harder…go harder… cum inside you harder…

-Perhaps he could just do that position you liked a few days ago….you were really squeezing him and begging for more.

-Yeah by the way, this man keeps track of what positions are best for making a baby and what makes you cum hard on his cock.

-You are no dummy to his antics. It takes two to tango. You knew your husband wanted a baby and…let’s just say he was very convincing in his actions to want a family.. 👀

-Plus you were married so there really wasn’t anything to be worried about right?

-So why do you shake with anxiety as you look at the test in your hands? The reality of it hits you hard in your bathroom. You feel good but also nervous to tell him. Even though he always claims he’s wanted kids with you just couldn’t help but prepare for the worst. But you also knew this would happen eventually when you let him cum inside you.

-A week prior when you two went out for dinner, your husband was the most possessive man ever. He hated when other men would even get to look at you. His grip was tighter and gaze so dark. On the way home he was holding onto your thigh as if you would fly away.

-That night you had 3 hours of raw heaven. By the end of it you remember being sticky and a bit sex drunk. Not being able to move your legs to your butt feeling sore. Your husband did not waver. You felt so full of him and content you couldn’t even complain.

-“My perfect wife, taking her husband’s load so good…”

-A week and a missed period later your husband in question is downstairs cooking dinner for you both. He figured since youre in the shower (and taking a pregnancy test) that he would surprise you!

-You come down in a bathrobe, hand griping on the tie. “Hey honey?”

-He turns his head to you, immediately becoming worried at your facial expression and appearance. Turning off the stove burners he comes over to you. “What’s up baby? you okay?” He puts a hand on your waist and another resting on your cheek to look at him.

-“I-I’m pregnant..” you stutter out. You back up from him to get his full expression. His face would be surprised but then he would become red in happiness and embrace you. You blinked a few times not saying anything before your husband exclaims with watery eyes “I’m so happy!!”

-You both embraced the news and continued into the night gushing about this new chapter you started. For your husband it was more of a marker that you’re finally all his. And he can’t wait for the little rascals he’ll continue to fill you with.

-That night after dinner you both lay in bed with your husbands hand holding your stomach protectively. You place a hand over his, smiling and drifting to sleep before you heard your husband mumble “Now you’re all mine..” in his sleep…

❤️

[nerdygirlramblings]

really want to write more about Oz, but the omegaverse worms keep entering my brain

cw: attempted accents

previous

Price clocked your reactions this afternoon. He isn't stupid. He knows that being a woman, and an omega in particular, puts a target on your back. The prejudice against both your primary and secondary genders means you need to be so much better than your peers, and you are. You are outstanding in your field. Extraordinary. He's not surprised some other task force hasn't snatched you up before now.

Thankfully, he got you to agree to dinner with the team, so he has help in convincing you to join them as a teammate. And once you're on the team, they can work on convincing you to join the pack.

Two hours after you left his office, and with your parents' words ringing in your ears, you're in the mess, waiting alone at a table in the back. You're usually in the mess alone but try not to linger long. An unclaimed omega alone around so many alphas is practically asking for trouble. Just as you start worrying about Captain Price and the others, he walks in flanked by the largest man you've ever seen in your entire life, his face hidden by a mask with a painted skull on it. Price is big, but the man next to him is taller and almost twice as wide.

Price is looking around the room, but the masked man leans towards Price and points in your direction. When he sees you, Price breaks into a grin and starts heading your way. As he and the large man in the mask approach, you're able to see two smaller - in comparison - men behind them, moving with a purpose that lets you know this is the full 141. Besides Price and the mountain, there's a stocky white man with a mohawk and a beautiful, lithe black man.

When they all stand in front of you, you can smell Price's autumnal scent along with another alpha whose scent is layered in something sharp, like ginger, onion, and garlic. It's a smell you associate with Mum's cooking, but you know many find it off-putting. There's a scent of saplings or fresh snapped greenery mixed with the mellow smell of a warm day: a spring scent coated in beta. The last is another beta, but this scent is crisp and brine, the ocean made flesh. You wonder whose scent is whose.

Price steps forward, offering you his wrist, his scent, again. As you take it and bring it closer to your face, he smiles and says, "Glad ya came." You dip your head in a slight nod and drop his hand, and he takes the seat across from you. He introduces the rest of the pack task force in turn, each man politely offering their wrist before sitting down. You recognize the informal scenting ritual common when joining new groups. You did the same with your squad when you first came to base.

Leftenant Simon "Ghost" Riley is the other alpha. He is sat next to Price. Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish smells like the ocean, and Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is spring. With your permission, the sergeants are sat on either side of you.

"I wan'ed ya ta be able to put faces to the 141 before ya made yer decision," Price tells you. "This way if ya wan'ed ta see what are trainin' looks like or ask about anything, ya'd know who ta ask." Then he surprises you when he suggests you go with the sergeants, the betas, to grab trays for everyone.

"Gaz and Soap know wha' we like," he says, pointing between him and Ghost. "They can get ours while we hold the fort." He must read the confusion on your face, but he only smiles in response. This was not the behavior of an alpha trying to prove his worth to an omega. This was a Captain letting you converse with members of the task force equal to you in rank without superior officers around.

As you make your way to the food, you see Soap eyeing you. You look back a few times, clearly puzzled and a little off balance, until Gaz finally elbows him and says, "Either spit it out, mate, or stop gawkin'."

Soap grins almost manically. "Aye seen ye running th'other morn. Yoor form neyver waivered. Was a sight," he sighs. You remember someone complementing your form after a run about a week back.

"Oh, tha' was you? You were quick!"

"Nae as quick as yoo, lass. I saw yoo pass the barracks foor times. An' aye could tell yoo'd been runnin' a fair bit befoor aye saw ye. Aye cannae run tha' consistently." He doesn't miss the way you blush as his compliment.

You stand in line behind Soap with Gaz at your back. They aren't alphas, but it's hard to miss how their presence calms you, and that's without them projecting their scents for you. Simply knowing you aren't here alone, that people are here who have your back, is enough.

next

[covenofagatha]

could you write something about divorced reader and agatha? them being mothers to a child, both decided to put what happened that lead to the divorce aside and keep communicating to each other as to try and keep a health relationship with their kid. they think their kid deserves to have both mothers present in his or her life.

then one day agatha discovers that reader is planning to go on a date, meaning she's trying to move on with her life. agatha is furious (in the jealous way), they argue a lot, it's very angst, full of emotions, they end up fucking and in the end they talk to each other about trying to restart things to be together again. they know it's not going to be easy but they realize their feelings for each other are still there. thank you!! (if you could angst and nsfw)

Okay this is genuinely one of my favorite things i've ever written so I really hope everyone likes it

Also my first time writing real angst so hopefully it wasn't terrible

Title is from a Taylor Swift song

That's when

Word count: 6100

Warnings: angst, smut, hate sex, fingering, scratching, biting

Going to be a few minutes late to pick-up today, got caught up at work. 

The text from your ex-wife makes you chuckle humorlessly. Of course she did. 

“What’s wrong, Mama?” You look up from your phone at the four year old bundle of joy you and Agatha shared. 

You give him a smile. “Nothing, Nicky. Mommy’s just going to be a little late today.” He shrugs and goes back to playing with his toys. 

You can’t stop the twinge of bitterness growing in your chest as you give a thumbs to the message, not even giving her a dignified response. 

Was it stupid to think that anything would change? 

When you and Agatha had first gotten married, you saw forever with her. She made you happier than you had ever been, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do for you. She always knew how to make you laugh and feel loved, and she was such an amazing partner. 

Plus the sex was mind blowing. She made you feel things you didn’t even know it was possible to feel. The older woman knew exactly what you needed all the time and it was like your body had been made for her. 

A year into the marriage, you both decided you wanted to have a child. Agatha carried the baby, using a donation from a sperm center, and then Nicholas was born. 

The moment you first saw Agatha holding him in the hospital room, your heart exploded with all the love in the world. You had kissed Agatha’s sweaty lips and told her that you loved her and Nicky more than life itself and that nothing was ever going to change that. She had told you that everything she’d ever wanted was right here in this room.

And for the first few years, things were really good. 

Agatha went back to work after her maternity leave ended, so you stayed home with Nicky. Some days were harder than others, but Agatha always made sure to come home as soon as possible to give you a break. She would cook dinner for everyone and after Nicky went to bed, she would hold you on the couch and the two of you would just soak each other in. 

But then, after Nicky had turned three, something started to change. He was in his toddler phase, so being home with him all day started to take a toll on you. Agatha would come home and find you absolutely exhausted, but at that point, she was moving up higher on the corporate ladder, so she was tired too. It felt like a distance had grown between you, and you didn’t know what was happening. 

She started to stay late at work, the need to become a partner at her law firm becoming all-consuming.

You still remember the first time it happened, the first time you tucked in Nicky alone, his big, sad, brown eyes looking up at you and asking why Mommy didn’t want to come home and see him. 

Your heart had clenched and you had to blink back tears before telling him that she was just busy at work and would come in and kiss him goodnight when she was able to. 

That had been the first fight of many about it with your wife. 

You had told her that she wasn’t putting her family first. She had told you that you weren’t giving her enough credit for everything she was doing for you and Nicky. You had told her that all you wanted was for her to be here to tuck your child in. She had told you that you weren’t being fair or understanding about her job. 

Agatha had slept on the couch that night and was gone before you woke up the next morning. 

Deep down, you could tell it was going to be the beginning of the end if something didn’t change. 

So you tried to. You tried to control your anger whenever she was late, you tried to make the best of it for you and Nicky. Bedtimes became a special thing for the two of you, when you would read him a story and kiss his forehead and then slip out once he drifted off to sleep. 

He stopped asking where Agatha was entirely. 

Occasionally a tense comment would escape from you when she got home an hour or two later and it would turn into an argument. 

That arrangement went on for almost a year, but fights were getting more common between the two of you. She made you feel crazy for being upset, which in turn, only made you more upset. 

One time, you told her that she needed to make more of an effort or else and she had scoffed. You had seen red and gotten in her face and you were almost yelling when she shoved you against the wall and shut you up by furiously kissing you. Her fingers had slipped down into your pants and she fucked you for the first time in months. 

You didn’t know hate sex could be so hot. 

After that, things seemed to be getting better and you thought that maybe the two of you had just needed to blow off steam. Your sex life certainly seemed to be back on track. 

And then it was Nicky’s fourth birthday. 

Agatha and you had planned a big party and invited all the kids from his daycare to your house for pizza, cake, and a bounce house. It was the first time in a while that you actually felt like your marriage was on steady ground, like you were on the same page again. 

You remember smiling at her in the kitchen while hanging streamers and thinking that everything was going to be okay, because you loved her and more importantly, she loved you. 

But then she got a phone call and your heart dropped when she left the room to take it. 

When she came back in five minutes later, a pained expression on her face, you felt nauseous. Of course. 

“It’s just going to be a short thing,” she had promised, and you had begged her not to go. It was Nicky’s birthday, he needed both of his moms and it was her day off. You told her that if she left, you didn’t think you could ever forgive her. 

She left anyway, vowing to be back within an hour. 

You weren’t even upset this time. You were just numb. 

The party went by in a blur and it didn’t even feel like you were present in your body. The only thing you remember was finding Nicky sitting under the table while all his friends ran around the yard and crouching down to ask him what was wrong. 

And he had looked up at you, bottom lip quivering, and told you that the only thing he wanted for his birthday was for Mommy to not have to work so much so that the three of you could be together again. 

You had to turn your head and bite onto your finger so you wouldn’t cry in front of him, barely holding it together while you consoled him and promised that Agatha would be back soon. 

Except an hour passed, and she wasn’t back yet. 

The party ended another hour after that and she still wasn’t home. 

After you had rocked a sobbing Nicky to sleep that night, you had gone downstairs, poured yourself a generous glass of wine, and sat by the fireplace, waiting for Agatha. 

And finally, at a quarter until ten, the front door swung open. Your wife crept in, gently setting her keys down so as to not cause a disturbance, and then turned to go upstairs. 

“You said an hour,” you said in a shockingly calm voice, startling her, making her freeze. She launched into an excuse about getting a new case and it was a really big one and she couldn’t get away, but you had cut her off and told her that you didn’t want to hear it. Thus started your biggest fight yet. 

You called her selfish and told her that she was being a bad mother to her child, she told you that you couldn’t possibly understand what it was like for her because you didn’t have a job. You had argued that it shouldn’t matter, that she needed to sort out her priorities, and she said that you needed to stop nagging and accept that she was an integral part of her company now. 

“You’re also an integral part of this family,” you had snapped. “Nicky needs both his moms. He was crying today because you weren’t there, Agatha. He said all he wanted was for you to work less. You need to fix this.” 

She had just stared at you like she didn’t understand what you were saying. “I’m so close to having everything I want. Just give me a few more months.” That was like a stab in the heart.

“A few more months until what? Until you become a partner and have to work even more?” Tears were streaming down your face in the flicker of the fire. “Since when is this not everything you want? Since when are me and Nicky not enough?” Your voice had broken at the end but you didn’t care.

A hint of pain appeared on her face but she had hardened. “I have to do this. You can either stand by my decision or not.” 

To this day, you don’t even remember squeezing the wine glass so hard that it shattered, but the next thing you knew, there was a sharp pain in your palm. You had looked down to see shards embedded in your skin, but the blood made you eerily calm. The wound was almost a wake-up call, a physical manifestation of what she was doing to your family. 

You met her eyes again. “I’m not going to stand by it. I’m done, Agatha. I’m not going to put Nicky or myself through this torture anymore.” 

You could tell that she wasn’t expecting it; she opened her mouth to say something but you had breezed by her to go upstairs, feeling lighter than you had in awhile. 

You had called a lawyer the next day. A small part of you kept hoping that she would promise to do better and beg to work it out. You would’ve called it off in a heartbeat. 

But she didn’t. 

The divorce was simple, for the most part. You had both agreed that you wanted it to be painless for Nicky so you decided that you would be civil and put your problems aside for his sake. He deserved to have both his mothers in his life, and the two of you were going to make that happen as cordially as possible. 

Nicky took the news about as well as any four year old would, but you both assured him that you loved him very much and that this wasn’t a bad thing. 

Things were awkward at first, especially Sundays at six when she would pick him up from you and vice versa. You didn’t know how to talk to the woman you swore you’d die with anymore, but four months in now, it’s gotten easier.

There’s light conversation now, maybe even some casual joking. But it always ends the same way: a terse smile, a kiss on Nicky’s cheek, and then a strained wave before the door closes.

You miss her, though. The way she smelled when you cuddled with her, the way her lips felt tracing your skin, the way she would laugh at some stupid joke you made. 

You try to ignore the pang in your heart whenever Nicky talks about her. It’s honestly been good for their relationship, now she has to make time for him because she doesn’t have you to depend on. 

If only she could’ve done that four months ago. 

And yet, it seems like she’s still putting work first, if being late today is any indication.

“Mommy says we’re gonna go to the park tomorrow!” Nicky squeals, jolting you out of your acrimonious thoughts. 

You look back at your son. “Oh, yeah? That will be a lot of fun, won’t it?” 

He nods. “She’s gonna push me on the swings! I went so high last time I almost touched space. It was so cool.” 

“Wow, Nicky!” You exclaim, laughing despite yourself. “You better be careful though. I’d miss you too much if you went to space.” 

He frowns, deep in thought. “I’d miss you and Mommy. Maybe you could both come!” His face brightens like he just told you a million-dollar idea. 

“Whatever you want, baby,” you say softly, leaning over to tousle his hair, and the doorbell rings. Every time she does that instead of just walking in, it feels strange. This used to be the home you two shared. You give Nicky a tight smile. “Go get your stuff.” He runs up to his room and you go answer the door. Agatha looks as good as ever and you swallow hard. You knew the whole thing was going to be tough, but you didn’t think being so close to her but somehow so far away at the same time would be the worst part.

“Sorry I’m late,” your ex-wife says, sounding genuinely apologetic. You shrug, not wanting to start anything. 

“Don’t worry about it. Nicky’s just grabbing his stuff.” Except it’s taking longer than you thought, so the two of you are just stuck standing there, trying to avoid eye contact. Some pick-ups are better than others.

“Um, so how are things? How have you been?” Agatha asks. 

“Oh, yeah, good. You know, starting to look for a job just to have something to do. Maybe down at the community center,” you tell her. She nods interestedly. 

“That would be good, yeah,” she says. She’s clearly racking her brain for more small talk to make. 

“And you?” You ask before the silence gets too much to bear again. 

She looks at you like she’s trying to figure out what to say. Her work has become sort of a sore subject to talk about, especially now. “I actually just made partner,” she says finally. 

“Oh, wow, congratulations.” It sounds hollow even to your ears. “So, um–” You start a sentence before knowing where it’s going, but thankfully, Nicky runs downstairs at that very moment. 

“Hi Mommy!” He cries out, sprinting over and almost knocking the wind out of her when he barrels into her with a hug. She takes a step back when she absorbs the hit and you instinctively reach a hand out to grab onto her to keep her balanced. 

Her eyes meet yours, a jolt running through you when you realize this is the first time in four months that you’ve actually touched her. 

You yank your hand back before you get too carried away in your thoughts. 

“There’s my little prince,” Agatha says, ruffling his hair, still looking at you. “Did you have a good week?” 

He lifts his head to peer up at her and she finally breaks away from your stare. “It was fun! Jack let me have some of his chips.” You chuckle, remembering the day he had come home from daycare and happily told you that he had made a new friend. Agatha quizzically glances at you and you shake your head fondly. 

“Wow, well I can’t wait to hear all about it,” she says, matching his energy, and you feel your throat pinch. Despite everything, Agatha was a great mom when she was around. “Alright, are you ready to go? I’m thinking we can get pizza for dinner?” 

“Yes!” Nicky pumps his fist and lets go of her to throw his arms around you. “Bye, Mama. I’ll see you next week.” 

You lean down and kiss his cheek. “Have a great week, okay, baby?” He nods, eyes sparkling like they always do. 

You stand back up and Agatha gives you a smile before leading Nicky back to her car. Watching them drive away tugs at your stomach like it always does, and when you can no longer see them, you go back inside to the empty house.

Grief rolls over you in waves sometimes when you’re alone, and this is one of those times. It’s like you’re being pulled under the surface if you think too hard about what it used to be like before things started getting bad. 

This home used to be full of love and warmth and happiness. 

Now it’s a cold, vacant shell of memories. Even the silence feels too loud as you walk to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine.

You drink a lot more when Nicky is with Agatha, and you find yourself wondering if she’s as affected as you are. 

Doubt it, you snort. She’s probably living her best life on her off-week, when she can come home at whatever time she wants and doesn’t have a nagging wife to answer to. 

You settle on the couch, glass in hand, and scroll through your phone. You down it quickly, and then another, and you decide to keep going. It doesn’t take long at all before you’re absolutely hammered. 

Fuck Agatha. Fuck her for choosing her job over you and Nicky. Fuck her for tearing your family apart. You would’ve been so happy with her. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with her. 

And now, what? You’re just supposed to start over? With some random woman? Supposed to go on first dates again, and talk about your favorite color, while the person who you loved the most and knew everything about you ripped out your heart?

Fuck Agatha. 

And then you get a genius idea. Maybe you should date. It could be meaningless, just a way for some company, maybe even sex. 

You’ve been waiting, hoping, for Agatha to change her mind. But she’s a partner at her firm now. 

She’s made her choice. 

Giggling out loud to yourself, you download Tinder and set up a profile. You scroll through your camera roll and are depressed when there’s mostly only pictures of you and Agatha, you and Nicky, or the three of you together. 

So you take some. Selfies have never been your thing, but in your drunken state, you have never been more confident. Some of the pictures you take are soft, some are a bit sexier, some are neutral. 

You upload them all, set the location for within five miles, and get to swiping. 

At first, it feels wrong, like you’re cheating on Agatha. When you get nervous, you still find yourself fiddling with the spot where her ring used to be, because it used to bring you comfort. The imprint she has on your soul will forever be there, you think. 

But it’s done. 

You steel your nerves and keep going, but no one is catching your eye. You frown, disgruntled, until finally you get to an attractive woman. 

Rio. 41. Loves nature and witchy things. 

You click through her pictures and are intrigued. You have a thing for brunettes, and her brown eyes are pretty pools of honey with a knowing look in them. There’s something intense about her, but you can’t ignore how hot she is. 

Before you can think twice, you swipe right and your stomach lurches when it says you have a match. 

Heart racing, you tap on the message icon, staring at the page. Do you make the first move or wait?

The alcohol decides for you. 

Hey. You hit send and immediately inwardly kick yourself. What a stupid thing to say. 

You turn off your phone and pinch the bridge of your nose until it buzzes in your lap. You look down and find that Rio replied. 

Nice pictures. 

You squint and click back to your profile, and attempt to really study them with a clear head. Turns out, all of them are blurry and it’s incredibly hard to make out any distinct features. You raise your phone again to take a new one and this time, you make sure that it’s clear before sending it straight to her with the message: Sorrrry i’m drung

It’s wrong, but you don’t care enough to correct it. 

Wow, doll. I’m glad you posted the blurry ones because you are too hot for anyone else to see. 

A blush spreads through your cheeks. It’s the first time you’ve been flirted with in ages. Feeling emboldened, you send a flirty text back. 

You keep talking for hours, until as you’re dozing off, she texts and asks you if you want to get dinner tomorrow night. 

The question is like a bucket of cold water being thrown on you and you start to panic. Thoughts of Agatha swirl in your mind, meeting her in a cafe, your first date, the first time she touched you, her proposing, her on your wedding day, her and Nicky in the hospital the day he was born –

– her working late, making Nicky cry, making you tuck in your child alone and explaining that of course Mommy still loves him and she’s just really busy, making you wait up to see her, breaking your heart a million times over again because she refused to change. 

You exhale slowly. 

I’d love to. You type back, and you turn off your phone before you can second guess yourself. 

You fall asleep on the couch, phone still in hand, a war being waged in your heart. 

The next morning, you’re awoken by your phone buzzing. You groan and hold it up in front of your face to find Agatha calling you. 

“Hello?” You say groggily, rubbing your head. 

You can tell she’s in the car by the loud sounds. Probably on her way to work. You roll your eyes, and then feel guilty. “Hey, Nicky realized that he left his pair of flip flops at yours and I was going to take him to the pool tomorrow. Can I come stop by this afternoon and pick them up?” 

You raise an eyebrow. “The pool on a Tuesday?” Who is this woman, and what has she done with your ex-wife? 

“I know, I know,” Agatha chuckles and it’s nice to hear her laugh. “I took off the afternoon because he’s been wanting to go swimming. Thought it would be a nice surprise.” 

You try to ignore the effort she’s putting in now versus when you were married. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll be here pretty much all day. Just text first.” You don’t mention the date with Rio, you don’t even wait for her to respond before hanging up. 

Trying to push Agatha and Rio out of your mind, you go take a shower to wash the smell of alcohol off you, and then run some errands. Grocery shopping is always easier when it’s your off-week but you still find yourself reaching for Froot Loops and Dinosaur nuggets. 

It’s about four in the afternoon when Agatha texts you that she’s on her way. You’re in denial about why you make sure your hair looks nice or you put on a bit of makeup, but it’s the first time you and Agatha have been alone since the divorce. 

Not that that has any correlation. 

And then the doorbell rings and your palms start to sweat. 

You swing the door open to find her leaned against the pillar outside, wearing a suit that has your chest squeezing. It’s your favorite, the maroon one that hugs her curves perfectly and the one she’s fucked you in more times than you can count. 

Agatha doesn’t wait for you to invite her, just walks in and up the stairs to Nicky’s room. You chase after her. 

“I’m surprised you’re not working right now,” you say, and she gives you a warning look. 

“I’m a partner now,” she answers, rummaging through Nicky’s closet to find his shoes. “I can delegate the busy work to others in the office.” 

You hum and reach around her to pull his flip-flops off a shelf and hold them up to her. You organized his room, you know where everything is. 

“Thanks,” she says, taking them, standing up, and awkwardly waiting for you to move first. 

You glance around the room to see if there’s anything else he would need for swimming. “Does he have his swim suit?” 

“I have a few pairs for him,” she replies, watching you carefully. You tuck your hair behind your ear, another nervous habit. 

“Well, guess he should be all set then.” You clap your hands together and she smiles sadly and walks out of the room. She pauses in the hallway next to your room, the room you used to share, and your breath catches, but she keeps moving toward the stairwell. 

“Do you, uh,” Agatha starts, turning around when she gets to the kitchen. You freeze. “Maybe want to have a drink or dinner or do something tonight? Nicky has a playdate with one of his friends, so it’ll just be me. Figured we could both use the company.” 

“I actually have plans,” you say carefully. Part of you wants to cancel with Rio, but you know you shouldn’t. This could be good for you. 

Agatha raises an eyebrow. “Working late?” She jokes, although it doesn’t land how she wants it and you both know it. 

“I have a date.” 

And it’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room. You see the exact moment Agatha’s face changes, becomes darker almost. 

“What?” She growls. “With who?” 

You chew on your lip until she asks again. “I went on Tinder last night.” You don’t offer more than that, but her lip curls and you can tell that she’s angry. 

“So now you’re just whoring yourself out online?” She spits and your blood boils. “You were going to, what, bring some slut to the house my child sleeps in?”

“He’s not here this week, Agatha,” you remind her and she scoffs like it doesn’t matter. “You haven’t been on a date yet?” Now that’s a surprise to you. 

She rolls her eyes. “Of course not. I’m too-“ 

“Busy? Yeah, tell me about it,” you cut her off, poison dripping in your tone and she fixes you with a glare, throwing her hands up in the air. 

“Don’t even fucking go there,” she warns. “That’s what this is always about with you. I’m so fucking sorry that I was ambitious and wanted more.” The sarcasm hits you like a brick and you grit your teeth. 

“It was about more than that and you know it,” you snarl. “You constantly neglected Nicky and I, you put everything else above us. You weren’t there for your own son’s birthday party, so fucking sue me for going on a date. We’re divorced, I can do whatever the fuck I want. At least she won’t completely ignore me.” 

It’s the wrong thing to say and you know it the second it leaves your mouth. She explodes. “Ignore you? I didn’t ignore you, do you even hear yourself? I tried to be there for you, I really did, and now you’re just throwing that away. I was doing the best I could, I was under so much stress with my job and then a toddler, I was fucking drowning.” 

“Why didn’t you talk to me then?” You cry out, digging your nails into your palms. “You could’ve told me how you were struggling instead of just fighting with me! And I’m not throwing it away now, Aggie, you were the one who did that when you gave me that ultimatum.” You can hear her breath suck in when you call her that nickname and tears prick your eyes. How did you two get here? 

“I didn’t think you would just give up,” she says, voice strangled, and a weight comes crashing down on you. 

“What?” You whisper, and for the first time, you can see that the older woman is affected too, hurting. 

She wipes her eyes and sniffs. “I didn’t think you would just walk away like you did. I thought you’d say that we could work it out, like you always do.” 

And then you get it. That night, she wanted you to cave again. She thought you would give in and let her get away with it. Like you always did. “Stop,” you say coldly and she looks at you with surprise. “You don’t get to manipulate me anymore and turn this on me. I tried so hard to fix this and to be okay with it, but you were never going to change. Except now you have, for Nicky. So what, was I just not worth it?” 

“Do you know how many times I wish I had changed? I should have listened, I’m sorry,” she says, and you wish you could believe it. 

“It doesn’t matter now. I’m going on this date and you should go,” you snap. You start to walk out of the kitchen and to the front door when her hand shoots out and grabs your wrist. You move your arm, trying to get free, but she yanks you back against her, your chest colliding with hers. 

You lose the ability to breathe and you try to avoid looking at her lips as she walks you backwards until you hit the wall. 

“Tell me you don’t still think about me,” she hisses into your ear. “Tell me you don’t miss the way I made you moan louder than anyone else ever has. Tell me you don’t miss the way I fuck you.” 

Your nose twitches in anger and you lean in closer to her. “I don’t,” you glower, even though it’s not the truth at all. She knows it too. Her grip on your arm tightens. 

“Really?” Her voice is slippery smooth now, dropping an octave to the tone that always made your stomach heat up. “When you’re alone in this big house, you don’t think about my fingers or my mouth or my cock, fucking you the way only I can?” 

You shiver, body betraying you. But you hold your ground and deny it again. 

Her other hand comes up and pulls your hair, forcing your head to the side, and she puts her face next to your ear. “You forget, baby, I know what it looks like when you lie.” Her tongue licks your earlobe and you bite back a moan. 

It’s been so long, too long, since you’ve been touched. You’d have this reaction if it was anyone else, you tell yourself. 

“Do you really think that Tinder slut can fuck you right? Let me tell you a secret,” she says dangerously, one hand sliding down your body and stopping at the waistband of your shorts, giving you ample time to stop her. You don’t and she smirks, knowing she’s won. “She can’t. Only I can.” 

Her fingers dip inside and cup you over your underwear and your mind goes blank. 

“You’re telling me that you don’t think about me while you’re this wet? You’re an even worse liar than I remember,” she taunts, but you don’t care. 

You need this too bad.

“Shut up and fuck me,” you bark, moving your hips over her hand, trying to get any kind of stimulation you can. She doesn’t give you what you want. 

“Tell me the truth,” she coos. 

You’re so angry right now, but you also haven’t felt this alive in four months, so you drag her in for a bruising kiss. Her teeth clash against yours and she practically shoves her tongue down your throat and roughly bites your lower lip. You moan into her mouth and rip your arm free out of her grasp so you can scramble to get her suit jacket off. 

Figures this would be happening while she’s wearing that. 

You claw at her bare shoulders, making sure to rake your nails across her skin and she hisses with pain, so you do it again. She trails her lips down and sinks her teeth in hard to the juncture between your shoulder and neck. You yelp but it quickly turns into a moan when she moves your underwear to the side and shoves two fingers inside your waiting cunt. 

Agatha’s head drops back as your eyes roll in your head. “Fuck, baby girl, I’ve missed this,” she sighs and you pull her to you urgently for another kiss, needing to make up for lost time. 

It’s like nothing changed at all, and yet everything has, when she sets the same familiar fast pace from all those times before. 

“She’s not gonna know what you need,” Agatha pants against your lips, thumb roughly swiping at your clit, pulling frantic gasps from your mouth. “Only I do. God, I’ve missed your cunt. Say it.” 

“I’ve missed your fingers,” you finally give in and groan. 

She thrusts them particularly hard and it has you clenching around her, biting onto her shoulder. 

“And?” She urges. 

“I’ve missed you,” you whimper, and she rewards you with a twist of her digits that has you groaning. 

“Good girl,” she moans. “I’ve missed you, too.” Her admission sounds choked, and it makes the fire only burn brighter in your stomach. 

And you want more. “Tell me you think about me,” you beg, and she raises an eyebrow, stopping her thrusts to fit a third finger into you. She curls them and you whine. 

“I fucking think about you all the time,” she says like it pains her. “I miss you so fucking much.” Your breaths are intermingling with how close you are and you lift a leg up so she can get in deeper. 

“I think about you too and I fucking hate it,” you snarl witheringly and she just chuckles and scissors her fingers inside you, effectively cutting your words off for a second. “You’re always on my mind and I can’t get you out of it.” 

You’re getting closer and you know she can tell by the way your walls are fluttering around her. 

“Tell me you still want me,” she orders and you keen, hands grappling around her to pull her even closer if it’s possible. You’ve missed her so much, the way she feels against you. Everything feels right again. 

You’re clenching, getting tenser, and you know you’re about to cum. But she slows her movements and you think you could cry. 

“Tell me the truth and I’ll keep going,” she says, voice getting softer. Tears form in your eyes and you know that you’re about to change anything. 

You press your lips to hers and then pull back. “I still want you, Aggie, I still fucking love you so much.” 

And her eyes get a feral look in them that you’ve rarely seen, even when she gets most possessive. 

“Say it again,” she demands, voice low, as she starts fucking you roughly again. 

“I love you, I still love you,” you practically sob and she kisses you harder than she ever has. 

“I still love you too,” she says into your open mouth, and you cum all over her fingers. 

She gently thrusts into you while you come down from one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had. 

“I should’ve made more time for you and Nicky,” Agatha says softly. “I’m sorry, baby. I went too far and I wasn’t listening but I promise, I want to do better this time. Please, just give me another chance.” 

This is the first time you’ve ever believed her. You’ve already seen what she’s doing when she has Nicky. And to be honest, you don’t think you’ll ever stop loving her. 

“Are you sure?” You ask, just needing to be certain. “We have a lot to work on.” 

She nods. “I know, baby girl. But I love you and these last four months have been hell. I know it won’t be easy but I want to make this work. For you and for Nicky.” 

Overwhelmed, you pull her in for a long hug, finally admitting to yourself how much you need her. It felt like there was a piece missing from you, and you just got it back. 

“Okay,” you say and you feel her smile against your cheek. “Let’s do it.” 

She kisses you so sweetly it reminds you of your wedding day and then breaks it to laugh happily. 

“So what now?” You ask. 

She smirks. “I think you have a date to cancel.” 

[crownofgildedlilies]

fake dating

pairing: midoriya x reader

summary: Izuku really needs a favor.

wc: 2.8k

event masterlist

You probably should have just said no. 

Though it was so incredibly hard to deny Izuku of anything, it wasn’t impossible. Difficult beyond belief, but not impossible. You only had yourself to blame, really, when you agreed to his request. You even had a few days to back out, but a part of you just couldn’t get yourself to let him down. 

But really, you wished you didn’t sign up to pretend to be Izuku’s partner when all you wanted was for it to be real. 

“Are you ready?”

No, you weren’t, but you couldn’t exactly tell Izuku the truth as you stood outside his family home, second away from attempting to convince everyone that you were dating. The very thought made you flush. 

“Wait, hold on,” You hesitated, grabbing his arm gently to stop him from opening the doorway. He followed your direction immediately, checking you once over to make sure you were alright. Just another reason why you were hopelessly in love with your friend—he was just so good. “Do you remember the backstory?”

“Yeah, do you? I wrote it all down if you need to review.” He nodded, and the fact that he had taken notes on your fake relationship made a grin form on your lips. 

“No, I’m good. It’s just…” You trailed off, dropping your gaze from him in an effort to make the heat in your cheeks disappear. “Will your mom be suspicious if we aren’t physically affectionate? We never really talked about that.”

From the corner of your eye, you watched the color rise up Izuku’s neck and take over his features. 

“I don’t think so? W-we could hold hands, but only if you want!” He hurried to ensure you were comfortable, just like he had from the moment his plan was brought up. He was just as nervous as you were, only you were doing a better job at hiding it. 

Barely. 

“Okay, yeah.” You agreed, sliding the hand that was holding his arm down until it wrapped around his own. You could feel the raised skin from his scars under the pads of your fingers. Subconsciously, you brushed your thumb over the worst of the damage on the back of his hand. 

“S-sorry about my scars. I know they’re weird.” He apologized, not able to look at you. Frowning, you squeezed his hand once in silent reprimand. He had led you to the front door and was seconds away from letting you into his childhood home, but you couldn’t let him continue on thinking you thought his scars were weird. 

“They’re not.” You murmured as he pushed the door open, sounds and smells of dinner cooking alongside lively conversation washed over the two of you and almost drowned out your words. “I don’t think so, at least.” 

True to his nature, Izuku flushed at your words, but was kept from responding as none other than the Inko Midoriya raced towards the sound of the front door opening to sweep her son up into a massive hug. Izuku didn’t let go of your hand as he hugged his mother back, an action you both didn’t miss and felt incredibly endeared by. 

“Mom,” Izuku started, gesturing towards you with his free hand when he finally let his mother go. “This is—”

“I know who this is.” Inko interrupted, pulling you into a hug just as tight as the one meant for your son. Instantly, you felt a wave of guilt for lying to this woman about the truth of your relationship with her son. Izuku hadn’t said anything about it, but you knew that you’d have to fake break up after the dinner. You couldn’t exactly fake date forever. “You’ve talked about them for weeks! I’m so glad to finally meet you, dear. I’ve been begging Izuku to bring you over.”

“Mom,”

“I’m glad I could make it,” Overtop Izuku’s whine, you managed to force the words out despite how flustered you were at discovering Izuku—apparently—talked about you to his mother. So much so, that she had been asking about meeting you. 

You were so screwed. 

“The food’s almost ready. Everyone is in the other room.” Inko started herding you and Izuku towards the sound of chattering. He kept his hand clasped around yours, even as his mother nudged him around, but you couldn’t help but realize that he was doing everything in his power to avoid looking directly at you. 

Was he embarrassed? The whole point of the evening was to pretend that the two of you were dating to get his mother to give him some space on the matter, so why would he care that she believed your ruse? 

“Go socialize, you two!” Inko gave you one final push into the sitting room, already dotted with Izuku’s various aunties and other relatives. You hadn’t expected to recognize anyone, which is why you were totally surprised when you met a set of very familiar red eyes. 

“No shit. You actually went through with it.” 

“Kacchan!” Izuku’s panicked voice filled the silence left by Bakugou’s crude and cryptic comment. All of the aunties in the room paused to glare at him, and Bakugou’s mother cuffed the back of his head in reprimand. 

This was bad. Bakugou was the only one who knew about your crush on Izuku. It wasn’t that you had told him, but more so that he confronted you about your feelings one sparring session and you panicked too fast to deny it. Since he was the only one who knew, you had thought it was safe to mention your fake dating plan to him.

Now, you were certain you were going to regret it. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, though you knew that the Bakugous and Mrs. Midoriya had been friends since the boys were in preschool. You just didn’t know why he had to be there. If it had been a different situation, you would have laughed at the sight of Bakugou sitting on Mrs. Midoriya’s small couch with neighborhood aunties surrounding him on all sides. But he was grinning far too smugly for you to consider the possibility that he would keep your secret. 

“I was invited,” Bakugou shrugged nonchalantly, then dropped his attention down to your hand wrapped around Izuku’s, and you just knew he was going to make some teasing comment. It was bad enough he taunted you in private over your crush on damn Deku, but you knew you were in serious trouble in front of a crowd. “What are you doing here?”

You grit your teeth at the smug asshole, face burning so incredibly bright red. From the corner of your eye, you knew Izuku was in a similar state. 

“I’m Izuku’s date,” You explained what he already knew. It was hard enough to pretend to date Izuku to begin with, but now to do it all with Bakugou watching?

“Yeah, my date.” Izuku nodded. From the expression on his face, you knew he was thinking something similar to you. He was even closer to Bakugou than you were. 

Bakugou smirked, but after a moment’s hesitation, he shrugged and went back to whatever conversation he had previously been in before your arrival. As he dropped the topic, you let out a breath you had been holding in due to nerves. 

“That was close,” You murmured in Izuku’s ear as he led you across the room to an empty seat. 

“Sorry,” He whispered back, close enough that you felt his breath brush against the shell of your ear. Shivering, you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. “I kinda forgot that Kacchan would be here.” 

“That’s alright,” You assured him, even though the way your heart was pounding in your chest was absolutely not alright. “I think he’s playing along for now.” 

A truce, it would seem. 

You should have known you couldn’t trust Bakugou when it came to matters of teasing Izuku. 

At the dinner table, you sat beside Izuku, his hand still diligently holding yours. Of course, Bakugou had seated himself across from Izuku, shooting the two of you knowing, taunting looks as you ate. It was hard to answer Mrs. Midoriya’s questions about yourself or follow the conversations around the table when you were just waiting for Bakugou to start something. 

“How long have you been together, again?” Inko asked politely as she served more of the food she had made onto your plate. You smiled graciously at her, trying to remember the story you and Izuku had created. 

“A month.” You felt so guilty for lying, but Izuku had asked you for a favor and you’d agreed. 

Though, it felt less and less like a fake date when Izuku refused to let go of your hand for a moment. Under the table, your fingers were threaded together and resting in your lap.

“Uh huh. And how’d you get together?” Bakugou cut in, shit-eating grin on his face as he leaned forward, interested in the conversation about your relationship. 

“Katsuki, you’re being rude.” His mother chastised, but you felt a sudden need to rise to Bakugou’s challenge. If you were going to fake date Izuku, then you were going to do it right. 

“Izuku just asked me when we were hanging out one day.” You countered with a newfound bravery. It wasn’t exactly a lie—you had been hanging out with Izuku when he asked you to be his date, only with the caveat that it was fake. Bakugou grinned at you playing into his game, leaning forward on his elbows. 

“Yeah, Kacchan, you know.” Izuku stammered to back you up, and you smiled softly at him, brushing your thumb over his scarred knuckles once more under the table. 

“What did he say, exactly?” Bakugou pushed for details, smirking. 

“Why do you want to know?” Your face scrunched in confusion. It seemed more like he genuinely wanted to know instead of just teasing the two of you.

“Curious,” Bakugou shrugged, though his attention suddenly was fixed on Izuku, who was flushed bright red. “What’d ya say, Deku? Anything dramatic when ya asked ‘em out?”

You turned to face Izuku with a confused frown. It seemed like Bakugou was having a separate conversation with Izuku right in front of you. 

“Oh, leave them alone, Katsuki!” Mrs. Bakugou ordered, and you realized exactly who he got his temper from. Scowling, Bakugou turned his focus from you and Izuku to argue with his mother. Despite your confusion, you managed to steal a glimpse at Izuku and found him blushing red and pushing food around his plate as if he was deep in thought. 

Your secret was safe, for now.

Somehow, you made it through dinner without further comments from Bakugou, and before you knew it, Izuku was walking you home. 

“I think it went well.” You hummed, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over the two of you the moment his front door shut. His hand had slipped from yours once the night was over, and with it went any disbelief about what the night had been about. “I’m sorry that I probably won’t get to see your mother again.”

You really were upset about it. Inko had been an absolute delight, and you knew exactly where Izuku had gotten all his sweetness from. But at the mention of your inevitable fake breakup, Izuku tensed from beside you, pausing on the sidewalk outside his building. 

“About that…” Izuku muttered, trailing off in nerves. You frowned at him in curiosity, having to fight the newly developed urge to hold his hand. How were you supposed to go back to normal after a night of pretending everything you wanted was real? “I, uh, actually meant for this to be real.”

“What?” Your mind went blank as you tried to process what he said. It wasn’t out of character for him to suddenly drop information on you out of nowhere, but never had it been something so serious as his possible feelings for you. 

“When I asked you to be my date tonight.” He clarified, voice wavering. “I meant for real.”

You blinked slowly at him, barely able to keep your jaw from dropping in shock. How hadn’t you realized? When he asked you, you had just assumed he meant fake dating, and he had never corrected you. But to know that he meant it as a real, actual date? You couldn’t believe it. 

“Why did you let me think you meant to pretend?” Shock was the only emotion evident on your face as you watched Izuku’s face flush at your admonishment. 

“Because I didn’t want to push my luck! Plus I thought it might have been your way of letting me down easy. But Kacchan kept teasing, and I thought maybe he knew something I didn’t. And I don’t know, I’m really nervous right now. Please say something. Anything, really—”

“Izuku Midoriya.” You interrupted his rambling with a call of his full name, and it works a little too well, getting him to stop talking at the cost of making him go pale and freeze with wide eyes.

“Oh no.”

“You’re adorable.” Recovering from your shock, you grinned, reaching out to wrap your hand around his like you wanted to from the start. Holding his between both of your own, you made sure to brush your thumbs over his scars he had said thought made him weird earlier in the evening. 

“Oh?” 

“Ask me again.” You encouraged him, a smile gracing your lips as you watched every expression that washed over his features. 

“What?” Ever oblivious to matters of the heart, his face twisted in confusion. “But the dinner is over already.”

“Izuku.” You tugged on his hand, bringing him half a step closer to you. “Ask me again.”

It seemed to dawn on him what you meant, and a blush bloomed across his face while he gathered his courage. 

“Will you be my date to my mom’s holiday dinner party?”

“Of course I will.” You giggled, knowing it was a little ridiculous that you were making him ask you again but unable to go without setting things right. You had been too oblivious to know what he meant before, but now you could fix it. 

“Really?” He asked, eyes wide, as if you weren’t holding his hand between your own. 

“If you want me to.” You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. 

“Yeah.” Izuku nodded quickly, clearly excited. “Yeah, I really do. For real, this time.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes playfully at his teasing jab. You were probably never going to be able to live down your misunderstanding. 

You tugged his hand once more until he was so close you had to tilt your chin up to face him. With your sudden proximity, his teasing tone vanished, replaced by one of thinly veiled nervousness. A sweetheart.

“Do you kiss on the first date?” You asked, voice innocent despite the question. Izuku’s face went red, and you could have sworn you heard him audibly swallow.

“I’m trying very hard to be cool about this, but I can’t lie to you. I’ve never been on a first date.”

Oh, now that you knew he wanted you, you were going to eat him alive.

“Do you want to kiss on the first date?” Rephrasing your question, you tilted your head slightly to the side to watch his reaction. 

“Yeah.” 

Gently, you set a hand on his cheek to guide his face closer to yours, taking the lead to press your lips against his in a short, sweet kiss. His lips were slightly chapped from the cold and how often he chewed on them, but you enjoyed the way he burned against you all the same. 

“Did the nerd finally ask you for real?”

At the sound of Bakugou’s voice, you jerked away from Izuku. With the adrenaline of Izuku’s confession, and then your kiss, you had forgotten you were only standing outside the building he lived in. It was a miracle that only Bakugou had caught you.

“Kacchan! I didn’t see you there!” Izuku, as red as ever, greeted your mutual friend with a renewed energy he hadn’t possessed when he’d been taunted with your fake date. Now that you had cleared the air about your intentions, his confidence had come back.

And apparently ruined all of Bakugou’s fun.  

“I was just leaving.” The blond rolled his eyes, shoving past the two of you with a frown and his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Watching him disappear down the sidewalk, you narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him. 

“Did he know this whole time?” You asked Izuku. You knew you had confided in Bakugou about how you felt, and if Izuku had done the same, then he had known the entire time and could have cleared the air. 

“I… think so.”

“Oh, I’m going to kill him.”

if it’s not painfully obvious, this isn’t proofread

also i feel like i could have done so much better

[explicit-tae]

Ungodly Hour: Day 1

You and Jungkook are together for the whole weekend. All he truly wanted from you was to admit you were his girl - but like always, he had to fuck it out of you. @swga-ficrecs @rrrapmonste-rr @xtrataerrestrial @bangctans @danielle143 @taekritimin123 @thelilbutifulthings @jksjx

Series Masterlist

word count: 3.675

warning: dirty talk, nipple sucking, slight kissing, neck biting, edging, face-slapping, cocky/jealous/possessive/dominant jungkook, bitchy/shit-talking but submissive reader, creampie, crying, begging,

“You cooked this?” your mother is first to ask once she bites into the meat, eyes growing slightly wide. “It tastes amazing.”

Jungkook gives a toothy grin and nods. “I added a secret sauce that my father has taught me.” 

You want to roll your eyes at Jungkook.

Dinner was going by smoothly. Around 20 minutes ago, your parents arrived. Your father appeared much the same, nonchalant and just ready to eat. Your mother did most of the talking. Her eyes roamed the apartment with prying eyes. She asked Jungkook and you questions after questions, all of which Jungkook responded to quickly and without hesitation. 

“How did you two really meet?” your mother asks after a moment. “I assume it couldn’t have been tweeter.”

You scoff. “No. It was not twitter.”

Jungkook places a hand atop yours and laughs. He wraps his fingers into your own and eyes you. He then brings your hand up to his lips and places a gentle kiss. “We met at the University.” Jungkook nods. “She was so cold to me at first.”

Your mother shakes her head. “Typical of her.”

“I must’ve asked her out a million times. I was shut down each and every time. Right, baby?”

You want to snatch that smirk off of his lips, but you only roll your eyes. 

“I think she got tired of my begging and agreed to a date.” Jungkook turns to your mother. “Ever since then, I’ve been attached to her like a lost puppy.”

Your father listens, not interested in speaking, but interested enough to appear apart of the conversation. “I’m glad.” your mother speaks. She takes a sip of her water. “Y/N can be a little mean.”

You knit your brows, but before you can speak Jungkook cackles. “She can!” he agrees.

Oh wow, you think. 

“But that’s what I love about her. She’s feisty and stubborn.” Jungkook looks your way, his eyes burning into you. You glance away from them and grunt, feeling hot. “And she always speaks up for me at restaurants when they get my order wrong.”

“That was once.” you quip. “You asked for extra sauce…”

“I did.” Jungkook nods. “I thought she was going to rip someone’s head off.” he tells your mother jokingly. “At least I know she cares.”

Jungkook was right - he had won over your mother.

That was expected, however. Your mother was easy to please. Jungkook was the equivalent of tall, dark and handsome. He’s easy to speak with and was such a smooth talker that it even had her swooning. He was affectionate, often kissing your hand or your head - more than usual, but you told yourself he was milking this to the very end. 

Now, your father was a different story. He was able to engage the man into conversation and actually hold it, having your fathers full and undivided attention. That is when you realized that Jungkook meant what he said - that even if this fake dating didn’t end with the both of you actually dating, that Jungkook would be there regardless. Your mother was already inviting him to dinner the following week and even hugged him before leaving - before she hugged you. 

“I’ll see you two next week?” your mother asks as she’s strolling out the door.

Jungkook wraps you in a tight embrace, his head resting on your shoulder. “You will!” he responds to her, waving curtly. “Y/N tells me about your cooking all the time. I can’t wait!”

You grumble - it was all the time, but you weren’t aware Jungkook was actually listening to your random ramblings. He was slowly winning your mother over that you were sure she would have him for dinner even without you there.

“You think you’re cute?” you push Jungkook off of you once the door is shut. 

“Is that the thanks I get for making a good impression?”

You cross your arms. “You know what you were doing complimenting her the entire night.”

Jungkook smirks. “Like mother, like daughter. You both like my praises.” Jungkook’s hands are on you again, bringing you closer to him. “I have to keep myself on top if I’m going to be competing against these boyfriends.”

Your hands are against his chest to push him away. “Ugh, take me home.”

“You aren’t staying the weekend?” Jungkook pouts his lips slightly. “We have to finish binge watching Law & Order.”

“You’re right.” you sigh for a moment. “And here I thought I had a chance to get rid of you.”

“You never can.” Jungkook’s right hand slaps your ass. You yelp, but it was only a gesture to bring you closer to him. He pecks your lips. “Let’s get going. We have the entire weekend ahead of us.”

The night shouldn’t have ended like this. You told yourself that you and Jungkook wouldn’t be entangled together - especially since you were watching Law & Order - there was no way Jungkook could ignore such an amazing series to get his cock wet.

But Jungkook had. 

It started with light touching. Jungkook’s bed is soft and it’s easy to be comfortable. He had gave you a shirt to wear - even if you had a weekend's worth of clothes - he insisted it would be best. You were certain he just wanted you in his shirt to appear more domesticated. 

Your first mistake was not wearing anything but the shirt and panties. Jungkook’s hands wandered upon your skin, his body dangerously close to yours. His hips would rut against your ass, prying hand going beneath the oversized shirt. “Just one kiss, Y/N. Don’t be like that.” was what he said - and you caved.

Of course it could never be one kiss. One peck led to him begging for more - and more. It led to him flipping you to face him, his hand squeezing the flesh of your ass to bring you closer to him. It continued with you being on top of him, tongues fighting against one another. His hands stayed upon your ass, rubbing gently as you and he kissed.

“We’re missing the show.” you protest, breaking free of the heated kiss. 

“We can always go back.” Jungkook eyes you with hooded eyes. “You look so pretty in my shirt.” he murmurs.

“Shut up, simp.” you roll your eyes jokingly.

“I can never compliment my girl without getting called a simp.” Jungkook tsks. His hands rub up your rib back down to your waist to your thighs. “It’s true, though. I wanna wake up with you like this every day.”

“I would have to actually be your girl for that to happen.” you retort. You gently grind against him, lips flashing him a mischievous grin. 

“You are my girl.” Jungkook hisses low, hands squeezing your hips to keep you firmly against him. “I got you in my shirt, don’t I?”

Jungkook and his logical comebacks. Damn him.

“I got you to stay with me this weekend, right?” Jungkook continues, his tongue coating his lips with moisture. 

“So?”

Jungkook manages to lift himself up without disrupting you. You and he are face to face now, your thighs caging him in between you. 

“So that makes you my girl.” Jungkook pecks your lips. “I know you like being called my girl, Y/N. Each time I say it you grind against me a little harder.”

Truly, fuck Jeon Jungkook because damn was he right.

“Exactly.” Jungkook murmurs, and for a second you believe he’s going to say something else - a comment that would indicate just how “down bad” you were for him. But no, Jungkook continues to stare at you.

You shift in his lap and with that, Jungkook blinks. “You’re really pretty.” 

You frown, knitting your brows together in an attempt to be annoyed - even if your heart did jolt. 

“My pretty girl.” Jungkook continues, his arms embracing you. “Far too stubborn to admit.”

“Is this how you ask out all your girls?” you snort, but feel yourself melting in his warm embrace. “Just demand for them to be with you?”

“There you go, Y/N.” Jungkook chuckles. “You go in that head of yours and start being delusional and fantasize me being with other girls.”

“Excuse me?” Delusional?

“Why are you adamant on me having multiple girls?” Jungkook gently kisses your forehead just because he knows it annoys you - his random acts of affection or kindness in a situation that is deemed “serious”.

You shrug your shoulders. “You fit the fuck boy aesthetic.” was all you say.

Jungkook snorts. “You think I have girls lining up to suck my dick in exchange for streaming services?”

You gasp. “We said we wouldn’t bring that up!” you hiss. 

“You’re right, baby. I’m sorry.” Jungkook smiles. “I just don’t see how you think I’m a fuck boy even now. I barked in order to meet your parents. I’m still getting laughed at in the groupchat.”

You suppress your own laughter, only giving Jungkook a grin.

“I basically fund your whole lifestyle. I think that’s far beyond a fuck boy.” Jungkook adds - but not in a way to throw it in your face or to appear as though you need him to. 

“A sugar daddy at best.” you shrug, but even you can’t help but laugh at the bewildered look on Jungkook’s face. “You do know you aren’t obligated to buy me things.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes - it was the same song and dance as before. He’d get you something he heard you speak about once a few days prior - you would insist it wasn’t a need, but the sparkle in your eyes was enough for him to keep doing it. 

“As my girl…” Jungkook places a kiss at the nape of your neck. “...it’s required of me to.”

“Until you get bored and throw me to the side.” you feel Jungkook’s teeth bite down on your neck. 

“You do everything but admit you like me, baby.” Jungkook presses you firmly against him. “I’m beginning to think that’s what you want me to do so you can remain in denial.”

Jungkook’s hands go beneath the large shirt of his you wore. Your skin is so soft and smooth - the both of you shudder. 

“You’re okay.” you murmur, biting your lip when you feel both of his hands engulf your breasts. 

“Just okay?” Jungkook’s tongue twirls on the spot he bit. “I can have you on your back begging for me in seconds, baby. Nothing about me is ‘just okay’.”

Your play hard to get was not going to last - especially not now. The cocky Jungkook was creeping in, and he knew that your words were nothing but bluffs.

“I’m sure I would be the same way with someone else.”

You couldn’t help it. It was a game for you at times to rile up Jungkook. He was the jealousy and competitive type - he had to prove that he was the best at any and everything he did. 

“You want me to fuck you so bad.” Jungkook chuckles, but you can hear the slight irritation in his voice - deep and raspy; ready to prove you wrong. You shudder slightly as goosebumps ride across your skin.

You really did. You were already wet enough, his hands and mouth adding to it. There was nothing like Jungkook fucking your petty words right out of you.

“You do this every time, Y/N.” Jungkook bites your neck harshly and you yelp, squirming. “You love messing with me. It must turn you on seeing me fuck the submission into you.”

You swallow thickly to suppress a moan. “I just give you what you want.” you shrug slightly. 

“What do I want?”

“Someone to moan for you no matter if it feels good or not.”

You were playing a dangerous game with Jungkook, but it just brings nothing but excitement through you. 

You yelp once more when you feel your hair being yanked. “You’re being a bitch again, baby.” Jungkook murmurs, but even he is amused by your attempts. You can never just tell him that you want him - never tell him that you want him to dominate. Instead, you deny or insinuate the opposite just to give him a reason to prove you wrong.

But Jungkook said it once before, he loved your ‘play hard to get’ game you played with him; when he had you it was much more satisfying. 

“Isn’t that what you like about me?” you tease, and even in the dim room - law and order playing ignored in the background - you are beautiful to him, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Love it.” Jungkook presses his lips firmly onto yours, his tongue sliding past your mouth. It’s quick and he’s rough, but you cannot protest. His hands are gripping your flesh so hard that you feel as though they’d leave a mark.

Jungkook yanks the shirt off of you, tongue instantly finding both of your breasts. Your legs are wrapped around him, his clothed cock pressing firmly against you.

“Why can’t you be normal?” Jungkook’s lips pops from your nipples, his tongue licking it furiously. “A normal girl would just tell me she wants me to be a little rough and not provoke it out of me.”

Jungkook grips both of your breasts into the palm of his hands and brings both of your nipples into his mouth.Your back arches at the warm sensation pooling through you. 

“I-I have to tell you how to fuck like a man?”

There was a new sensation when the words left your mouth and hit Jungkook’s ears. It’s a sensation that shoots straight to your core and leaves your cheek stinging.

The room is silent, Jungkook’s eyes wide watching your reaction for a moment. He’s ready to apologize for not thinking before he slaps you, but it’s your moan that draws him back to reality.

“You liked that?” Jungkook murmurs and you nod, biting your lip. Jungkook grunts, his mind wandering just how far you’d let him go.

Jungkook unwraps your legs from around him and removes himself from the bed. He drags you to the edge of it, you yelping at the sudden movement. Jungkook removes your panties and widens your legs. He’s cocky - through the flashing television light, he see’s how wet you are for him.

“Keep your eyes on me.” Jungkook demands.

You swallow, finding it difficult underneath his intense gaze. Jungkook lowers himself, burying his tongue deep within your folds. He forces your legs open each time you threaten to close them. His eyes are locked onto your fluttering ones, watching as you moan and cry for him. You were so beautiful for him - if only you’d allow him to admire your beauty. Oftentimes when he looked your way, you were quick to respond with a witty remark.

“Fuck…” you groan, breaking eye-contact just as he enters his fingers inside of you. You lay your head back and continue to pant. 

“You never allow me to treat you nicely.” Jungkook removes his tongue from your clit to spit on it, continuing his pumping. “If you’d let me, I would take good care of you.” Jungkook licks his lips, the wet sounds of your pussy like a melody to his ears. “But instead, you want to be a bitch. I don’t get it.”

“K-Kookie…” you draw out a moan, a hand cupping your breast. You can feel the familiar churning in your stomach. “I’m gonna cum-”

“No you aren’t.” Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you, hand slapping your clit. 

Your eyes shoot open, your pussy clenching around nothing. “W-What-”

Your mouth is stuffed with Jungkook’s fingers, your tongue twirling around them. 

“See how good you taste?” Jungkook questions, removing his fingers to grip your chin tightly. “I would let you cum but…I’m sure you can always find someone else to do it. Since you enjoy faking so much.”

Your heart is pumping and you flush hot with embarrassment. You aren’t sure what to say - Jungkook had you beat. 

“Aw,” Jungkook chuckles. “You look so sad, baby. I can let you cum.”

You swallow, glancing away from Jungkook. 

“Is that what you want?”

You nod your head, but Jungkook wants to hear you. 

You yelp when your clit is slapped once more. “Use your words, baby.”

“Y-Yes!” you try not to moan and sound too desperate, but it’s inevitable. 

“Yes what, baby?” Jungkook’s already tugging his bottom half off, his underwear going along with it. His shirt is next, chisel abs in your line of vision that you groan at just the sight. “Tell me what you want, Y/N. You have a mouth any other time.”

Fuck Jeon Jungkook. 

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his cocky attitude.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his amazing dick that has you following along with him. “Please fuck me.” you sigh in defeat. “Please make me cum, Kook.”

“With pleasure.” Jungkook is delighted. He slaps the top of his cock against your clit, licking his lips. “So wet. To think you said someone else can have you like this.”

Jungkook wasn’t going to let that go - you can only imagine how hard he was going to fuck-

“J-Jungkook…!” you shout in surprise at how hard he enters you, his thrusting increasing by the second. Your back slams against the bed with each thrust, and it only bounces back just as hard. 

“You can handle it, Y/N.” Jungkook hisses, fingernails digging into your flesh. “You don’t want me to be nice, you don’t want to be my girl…”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, panting heavily. Jungkook’s tone appears serious - you’d have to ask later on if your words really got to him like they appeared to have. 

“I let you…fuck…” Jungkook’s head hangs, eyes unsure where to focus. Your breast bounced furiously in rhythm with his pounding. Your face is scrunched with pleasure, a bit of drool in the corner of your mouth. “...I let you sit on my face. I let you spend as much of my money as you’d like with no limit. I…”

Jungkook grips your chin once more, forcing you to focus on him. It’s difficult - Jungkook doesn’t allow you a second to breathe, but you don’t want him to. 

“And all I really ask you to be is my girl.”

It pains for him to remove himself from you - all he wants is to cum deep inside of you like you’d allow him before. But - his pride and ego got the best of him. If you were going to front as if you didn’t need him to cum, then you weren’t.

“Kook…” you cry in defeat, pussy once more clenching around nothing. 

Jungkook laughs, a dark glee in the tone. “And like I said before, Y/N…” your eyes flutter a bit looking at his face - dark lust filled eyes staring right into yours. “...I can have you on your back begging for me, can’t I?”

Fuck Jeon Jungkook.

Your chest heaves. “Fuck you.” you curse at how meek your voice appeared.

“I bet you’d like that baby.” Jungkook plays with your clit slightly. “You’re my girl, right?”

You lick your lips, thighs quivering. 

“Say it and I’ll let you cum.” Jungkook centers his tip at your entrance, thumb circling against your wet bud. “That’s all I want from you, baby. You can have anything you want from me…”

Jungkook enters you slowly this time. Your groan is long and deep, your hands reaching out to grab Jungkook’s bicep. 

“J-Jungkook.” you trail off - the pleasure now getting to you. You just wanted to cum by him - his hands, mouth, cock, whatever it took.

“Yes, baby?” Jungkook breathes - he’s unsure himself if he’d be able to last long like this and then his ego would be hurt (but then again, he wouldn’t have blueballs).

“Please make me cum, Kookie.” you wail, hot tears falling down your face. You had to look utterly pathetic weeping for dick. Jungkook’s ego was now going to skyrocket and this moment is something he would forever hold over your head - no jokes from you could ever be taken now. “I had you on your back crying for me, baby” - you can hear it now.

But - you were desperate. Jungkook was hot, his dick was amazing and you’d allow him to have this over you. 

“I’m your girl, Kookie.”

Jungkook shudders - and now he’s truly satisfied. He pounds into you sloppily, certain that neither of you were going to last long. You’re clenching around him so heavenly, moaning and crying his names that he cannot help but want to cum inside of you each and every time. 

“I know you’re close, baby.” you hear Jungkook say, his forehead - moist with sweat - pressed onto yours. “We can come together, okay?”

“Y-Yea…” you nod, but you wrap your arms around Jungkook and press your lips against his. You’re groaning against the kiss, already cumming on his cock.

Jungkook feels the electric shock go through him and he shudders. With a few more thrusts, Jungkook cums inside of you, trembling at the sensation.

Ten minutes it’s what it took for you and Jungkook to come back to reality. You’re sweaty and you haven’t even done anything.

“You wanna shower?” Jungkook’s voice pipes in. “Are you okay? I didn’t go too overboard, right?”

You nod your head. “I’m okay.” you murmur. 

Jungkook nods. He kisses your temple. “I can start the shower for you-”

“You aren’t coming?” you ask once you feel Jungkook shuffle on the bed.

“I-I..” Jungkook’s eyes are wide and doe like. He appears completely surprised that you offered such a thing. “You’d like me to?”

You laugh at his expression. How you manage to remove yourself from the bed is beyond you - your legs are shaking with pain that you’re not upset about. 

Jungkook feels your hands against his bare chest and he tilts his head, awaiting your response. “I said I was your girl, wasn’t I?” you murmur, sending a kiss to his chest.

In seconds, Jungkook is erect again at just the admission. 

Series Masterlist

[twinkling-moonlillie]

Hawks Headcanons

A/N: I am currently obsessed with Hawks (if you couldn't tell) and writing for him is fun. I made these headcanons while procrastinating on my midterm paper a few days ago-

Warnings: Some NSFW content; MDNI. Some angst too

Starting things off with an angsty bang, Hawks has a bad habit of plucking his feathers when he is stressed out. It’s never too often and it’s never to a critical extent, but it does occur. Birds often do this as a form of coping with negative feelings, so perhaps he does this after a brutal mission. 

Like many other people, I firmly believe that Keigo has a thing for shiny or interesting looking objects. Again, it’s not to an obsessive extent, but he does have a good eye for pretty trinkets. Especially ones he thinks will look good on you. 

I don’t think Hawks is a good cook. There, I said it. This man barely has time for himself, do you really think he has time to devote to cooking? Do you really think that the Commission taught him to cook? Fuck no. He sticks to quick take out purely out of necessity. 

They say that the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and this is absolutely true with Keigo. He would love the little lunches and dinners you make for him while he is at work! He gobbles it up like a turkey. He swears that your food is the best thing he has ever had; he literally moans when the aroma hits his nostrils. 

I forget which fic I read this from (I will link if I find it), but I adore the headcanon of Hawk’s taking rut suppressant pills. I just think it makes so much sense since it aligns with his work-centric life and his lack of a wife (we aren’t talking about when you are married to him, obviously). They are probably similar to birth control pills where they stop the rut from happening 5% of the time. 

Even without his rut happening, Keigo still has a huge breeding kink. Can you blame him though? He just thinks that you'll look gorgeous with his cum leaking out of your pretty pussy. 

*whispers* he also has the equipment to match

He has definitely accidentally run into a window from imagining you with a cute lil baby bump. 

He can get a little whiny and needy about wanting to devour your pussy. He will straight up beg you on his hands and knees. Please say yes to him. 

The songs Angel with a Shotgun and Mr Blue Sky fit him so well. Fight me on this. 

Also the song Hey Look Ma, I made it

I just imagine happy birb listening to Mr. Blue Sky after meeting you.

Intentional or not, his wings flap and rustle during sex. 

On the topic of his wings, I don’t think they are as sensitive as we all wish they were. It’s not like he’s gonna start moaning and whimpering when random fans touch his wings (he canonical doesn’t) HOWEVER, it does feel nice when you massage and gently comb your fingertips through them. I’m thinking that it’s similar to hair?? Or maybe his wings are ticklish?? But only in the right context?? 

You are the only person he really trusts to take care of his wings

Keigo loves holding you in his arms and taking you on night flights. The stars always seem brighter when they are reflected in your eyes (at least, Keigo thinks so…). You even have your own set of aviator goggles to wear during these dates.

One of his favorite things is when he DOESN’T have morning patrol and can snuggle you until at least 10 in the morning. Although it may be longer because his sleep debt is so huge. There is just something so satisfying and peaceful with having you close enough to hear your heartbeat. 

His biggest dream is being able to have a family with you in a quaint little house. His life, your life…they aren’t constantly in danger and he can sleep in with you, make you breakfast (it’s only a little burnt), wrap his wings around you. 

Keigo is extremely possessive of, not only you, but the life you created together. He is very sensitive towards things that threaten the small slice of normalcy he has, eliciting a sense of hypervigilance and territorialism. 

His mental state isn’t the best from the culmination of trauma he experiences, leading him to commit psychic cannibalism on himself. He represses all of these negative feelings in order to perform to the best of his ability and be the good lap dog for the Hero Commission. 

Needs therapy.

It’s established that he has some form of echolocation through his feathers. So…hear me out…just to make sure you are safe 24/7, Keigo gives you one of his smaller feathers. I’m not going to rant because I might make this into a small oneshot/drabble later

[tossawary]

At the end of "Fullmetal Alchemist", Ed Elric quits the military, has given up his ability to "play god", and is (as he has been since he burned his fucking house down as a tweenager) homeless, disabled, and crashing at the Rockbell place to help his very sick brother recover.

And it's easy and funny to imagine Edward Elric essentially becoming the house husband of successful and innovative automail mechanic Winry Rockbell (and later a stay-at-home dad). Small family businesses are pretty much always a mess of needing an extra hand just to answer phones and the mail, to schedule appointments, to deliver and pick up parts, to organize stock, to "just hold this for a second for me", and so on. Pinako is not getting any younger and could use someone to cook dinner and fix the roof while she rests her back!!! Winry is busy!!!

There is also always a lot to do in a rural community, so I'm sure that Ed would find another hobby in the absence of alchemy and could turn it into a gig if necessary, if he really doesn't like automail. He has a lot of skills that he could potentially turn towards an income. I've also generally assumed that Ed made a pretty decent amount of money as a State Alchemist and still has some generous savings on that front.

But I was also thinking that it would be kind of funny if being a State Alchemist came with incredible retirement benefits. Like, the military wants to lure people in with wealth and power and resources - and then make alchemists desperate enough to keep these things that they become walking weapons of war, commit horrible crimes against humanity in the name of "research", and/or resort to human transmutation and become viable sacrifices. Ed never had to worry about getting kicked out (and presumably losing his benefits) because he was a perfect human sacrifice from the get-go (although he didn't know this). I'm guessing a lot of State Alchemists were never actually able to retire between dying in wars, failing out of the program (the brass finding excuses to save money! Bosses are always cheap!), getting arrested for speaking out or actually getting caught publicly doing bad shit, and being murdered for their crimes against humanity.

But, in theory, maybe the State Alchemist retirement benefits were absolutely incredible if you could somehow survive long enough or get permission for an early, "honorable" retirement, because King Bradley (who let's say set up this financial bait) somewhat reasonably assumed that Father would completely destroy the country before he'd ever have to pay out a pension. Which means that Ed could be out of the military for years and somehow still costing Roy Mustang a lot of money.

[pupkashi]

oranges

gojo knows how to peel oranges

a/n: just something simple inspired by the poem oranges by jean little, i cried the first time i read it, hope you guys enjoy <3

wordcount: 843

masterlist

there was a lot you did for satoru.

you helped ground him, reminded him to drink water, made him food, taught him how to fold clothes and do laundry, showed him all your favorites- from places to eat and videos to play.

you reminded him what love felt like, your tender touches late at night, gentle thumb pads wiping away hot tears, soft whispers and proclamations of love.

satoru always wondered what he did for you.

he didn’t think much of the quality time he’d spend with you, he thought that was a given. he often brushed past the shower of compliments he gave you daily, figuring that was the standard. the little gestures of holding doors open, buying you flowers, remembering your favorite candle scent and buying your shampoo seemed too natural to him for it to be considered and outward act of love.

“you want some oranges?” you asked, looking at him with a smile from the kitchen.

“i could go for some oranges” he replies, getting up from the couch and joining you in the kitchen, taking an orange in his hand.

his thumbs easily tear into through the peel, gently digging his finger and separating it seamlessly from the sweet fruit, continuing his motion until the peel comes completely off, all in one piece.

you on the other hand, are putting too much force into your thumb, your finger piercing straight into the flesh of the fruit, shrieking when the juice gets on your face a bit.

“how do you always peel it so neatly? i have never once been able to” you huff, setting the now punctured Orange on a towel, washing your hands in the sink before drying them off.

“cmon sweetheart it really isn’t that hard!” satoru grins, taking your orange and easily peeling it apart neatly. “you have to do this, and then… get it there and boom!” his smile widening as he stares at you, a pout on your lips and an annoyed look in your eyes.

“yeah yeah mr. ‘I’m so good at everything’” you tease, tasking the orange from his hand and munching on a piece. “they’re sweet today” you smile, putting both your pieces and satoru’s in a bowl, heading back to the couch the two of you were on.

two weeks later the two of you are cooking dinner, reading off the recipe and realizing the dish called for an orange.

“can you hand me an orange?” you ask, turning around and thanking him as he hands it to you. you were determined to not make a mess this time, it’s just an orange after all.

but as gentle as you were, the peel wouldn’t budge, and the little force you applied proved to be just a little too much as your fingers pierced through the flesh again. you groaned in frustrations satoru already taking it from his hands, a smile on his face as he so easily peeled it.

“coulda just asked” he hums, handing you the orange, you’re glaring at him, giggling when he misses your nose.

“thank you angel boy,” you mumble, chopping the orange and adding it in.

one year later you’re sitting together in a grassy field, the wild blowing past the two of you, your laughter and love filled gazes scattered in the wind.

“i got some oranges from the market today!” you grin, taking them out of the wicker basket and showing them to your snowy haired lover. “you owe me breakfast in bed if i can finally peel this damn citrus fruit” you wager, satoru easily sitting back, a small smirk on his face as he nodded.

“I’ll do so breakfast in bed for a month if you peel it in one piece” your eyes widen at his proposition, nodding before looking at the fruit in your hands.

it’s only ten seconds later that you’re throwing yourself back, saying the fruit was obviously defective because ‘there’s no way the peel was that easy to cut through!’

satoru takes the oranges from you, peeling them perfectly and separating them into neat sections.

“I’m glad i have you to peel my citrus” you smile one night, taking the mandarin slices from his hand and humming in delight as the sweet taste hits your tastebuds.

“I’ll always peel your oranges for you” he replies, voice soft, his blue eyes seem a little lighter and his face a bit more relaxed as he looks at you.

it’s been years since then, and you never learned to peel oranges, the times you’d attempt to, juice would get everywhere and the peel coming off in chunks, the aftermath looked like an orange massacre.

satoru’s heart flutters when he sees the citrus fruit, knowing you’ll hand it to him, for him to peel for you. he knows you’ll always ask him to do this for you.

satoru is grateful everyday that you can’t peel oranges, because with the boundless things you do for him, he knows this is the one thing he’ll always be able to do for you.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[mistymisfit]

How he shows he loves you

Summary: 3 short blurbs on how Jason shows reader he loves them.

warnings: mentions of reader being kidnapped, but descriptions are very vague lol.

wc: 2k

a/n: This isn't edited at all, but it has been sitting on y drafts for wayyyy too long

Jokes

Disappointment is not the initial reaction he hoped for when he came in through your front door. Shock would've been a more appropriate response, since your music was too loud and you didn't hear him come in. He decided to pull a prank and scare you, silently making his way to the kitchen where you were having a karaoke session. Which given how quiet he could be when he wanted to, it was not that hard at all. Now Jason tries to hold back his laugh, a boyish grin plastered across his features that he wouldn't be able to suppress even if he tried.

"What are you making?" He whispers next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. If he was being honest, he'd say he is concerned about how long it takes you to notice there's someone else in your apartment. But right now, he's too caught up in the bliss of being in your presence that he can't bring himself to care.

"Oh, you're early." You say after the scream you let out when he comes up behind you, seemingly out of nowhere to whisper in your ear.

"Why? You're mad?" He replies, hiding his insecurity behind sass. What if you didn't want him there? What if he's overstayed his welcome? But before he can come up with some convoluted reason for why you don't want him anymore, you're stopping him.

"I just wanted to have this done by the time you got here" You signal back at the food with your head. And he looks over, finally realizing you were cooking his favorite meal.

"What's the special occasion?"

"Nothing," You blush "Can't a girl just cook for her boyfriend?"

"Not unless she wants me to make her my wife," He teases, you roll your eyes, growing accustomed to these types of jokes. Once he reached a certain level of domesticity and was comfortable enough in the relationship, he started to talk about how he was gonna marry you. Jason would even jokingly refer to you as his wife. At first, he made you blush, now it was just the usual routine.

You would lie if you said it didn't excite you and make your feelings all mushy when he did that, your heart felt warmer when he showed how committed he was to you. You felt giddy whenever he said "When we get married", he never said if we get married, he was very certain about wanting to spend the rest of his life with you. Your heart skipped a beat whenever he'd drop a detail of his dream wedding, "We're having a chocolate cake, like the one in Matilda" or "I'm kissing the fuck out of you on that altar". One time he said: "If you liked that, imagine what our honeymoon would be", that one got him a soft slap on his chest as you chuckled.

"How did you get here anyways?" You change the subject, going back to your cooking.

"Used the front door" He answers with a smirk, arms wrapping around your waist as he steps closer to you.

"Really? How?"

"Cause I'm your boyfriend," He replies like it's the most obvious thing in the world. It is, but he didn't need to say it like that. "I have been for a while, and you gave me your keys"

"Damn, my doorman just lets anyone in these days" You joke and you can hear the little "tsk" that comes from his mouth as he lets go of you.

"I can leave and come back from your window" He's kidding, but you know him well enough to know he's willing to follow through just for the sake of doing a bit. Instead, you hold his arm, pulling him back to you in between giggles.

"Please, I finally have boot imprint-free windowsills"

He laughs, it's real laughter, not his usual chuckle. It makes your heart work overtime as you watch his smile reach his eyes so much that he ends up closing them. He pulls you in for a kiss before he lets you go to finish the dinner you worked so hard on. The food that when he takes a bite from has him asking:"You want a summer or spring wedding?"

Touch

Even if he's less inclined to admit this, Jason knew that before you met he was touch starved. And now he can't get enough of it, he's constantly on your side or with his hands on you in any way, shape or form. It came as a shock--to him-- how badly he needed you sometimes, he never felt this about anyone before. He swears he's not usually this clingy.

You are walking down the street and suddenly you're not holding his hand or bicep and he's grabbing your hand and putting it back. He could never be one of those boyfriends who don't notice when their partner stops holding their hand, if you ever so that he's immediately holding your hand again and asking what's wrong.

Sometimes his touch is protective. You are going through a crowded space and he has his hand placed on the small of your back, guiding you and making sure nothing ever happens to you. It turns a little too protective when another guy tries talking to you and he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in for a kiss.

But most of the time, he's all alone with you, lying down on bed or a couch, and he's tracing shapes on your uncovered skin. He leans his head closer when you play with his hair or God forbid you touch his face, it has his knees giving out. He loves feeling your weight on top of him, loves feeling you're real and that you're with him and not going anywhere. Maybe he sneaks a hand under your clothes if he feels daring, and your attention doesn't shift. It amazes him how he's allowed this, how much access you give him. And over everything else, it doesn't have to be sexual. Casual skin to skin contact did not have to mean anything else; it was just that.

With you he's experienced that not every touch has violence behind it, not every contact has an ulterior motive. So he's so gentle with you, maybe he is not good with words, so he makes up for it. You know he shows his affection in action rather than words, he's not that far from worshiping the ground you walk on. He's specially kind when you know you're vulnerable; he presses kisses to your face as much as he can and to your shoulder blades when he can't. You know he's a big softy since you've pretended to be asleep multiple times as he played with your hair. An more than once you've heard him whisper hushed love confessions he never thought you'd hear. His hands are rough with criminals but you'd never be able to tell by how kind he's around you.

Priority

Jason wants you to know you can count on him for anything, he makes a point of it by telling you multiple times. You ran out of milk? He's buying it on his way to your place Your apartment needs fixing and your landlord won't help? Problem's solved within the hour. Maybe you got terrible cramps, he's there to help you however you want him to. So it's no surprise to you or anyone that the second you're in danger he drops everything else. You're his number one priority.

"Where is she?" He pushes Bruce for information, which he was adamant in not telling him. Knowing Jason, he'd end up acting before he thinks it through, he'd show up unprepared and end up causing a disaster. Or at least that is what Bruce thinks about the son who plotted his revenge against him for years to the last minute detail.

"Jason" He mutters under his breath.

"I swear to God if I find out someone touched a hair in her head because you wasted time-"

"You go with me or you don't" He threatens "at all."

And Jason loves you so much, he's willing to agree to work with him in a heartbeat. He puts all his resentment aside when he thinks it will help you, if it meant working with the bat and abiding by his rules, then so be it. He'll track down the poor fucker who took you and kill him later. He didn't like being around him, it made him feel tense due to the incredibly strained relationship between the two of them. Bruce loved Jason, but sadly his way of showing it translated quite the opposite way in the younger one's eyes.

Bruce was being too quiet about what happened to you. All he knew was that he couldn't reach you, you were not at any of the usual places, and your friends had no idea where you were either. He checked your apartment and things were perfectly placed, no one had broken in--other than him. Then when he tracked your phone, which he only promised to do in extreme situations like today, he found it inside your purse thrown in some dirty alleyway. That's when his panic hit its peak and turned back to get his red hood gear and ask the bats if they knew anything about you.

He got to a warehouse, standing next to Bruce he decides to push him a bit more to get anything out of him. His mind was killing him with questions, were you okay? what happened? how did he know? and couldn't bear another second next to the stoic figure not willing to tell him anything.

"It's Mad Hatter, he's been taking people off the streets for-"

"Is she okay?" He cuts off, he has no space in his mind for whatever crazy thing he had planned against Batman or the city. Not when he's not sure you're safe, when Bruce won't even tell him if you're alive.

"She should be" He gives in "I'll take care of him, you handle hostages"

That's all he needs, he braces himself before following after Bruce, watching every step he made as it could make the difference between losing you or saving you. Jason's a bit pissed he's relegated to hostages much like he was during his time as Robin but decides against questioning for now. He steps and breathes as quietly as he can while he makes his way past the sign that reads "Wonderland". He silently signals to Bruce that they should split and cover more ground, to which he agreed with a curt nod. His masks allows him to have a better vision in the dark, so he can see how filthy the place was and how worn down the wonderland decorations were. He doesn't know if the man was there, but knowing Bruce he sent him on a path he wasn't likely to find him alone.

He finally finds some of his hostages, two twins laying unconscious on the floor. He tried waking them up to no success; he saw their chests move up and down as they breathed, so he knew he could worry about that later. Moving further, he sees a couple more people, all dressed up as characters like the twins were, in the same state. He then moves to the tea party, where another two kids dressed as the animals in the book sat with their heads on the table. He picks one of them up and rests them in a more comfortable position on the floor using what he could to make a cushion for their head, then does the same with the other kid. He thinks it's the least he could do if he couldn't wake them up. After a nerve-wracking walk through Lewis Caroll's nightmare he finds you, he feels his soul getting back to his body when his eyes finally land on you.

You lay on a floor that resembles a chessboard wearing a white dress and a crown, a little blonde girl with a light blue dress is cuddled up on your arms. He kneels down next to you, whispering your name and grabbing your shoulder to shake you in an almost desperate attempt to wake you.

"Please, please" He's sure if someone could hear how pathetic he sounded, his reputation would be ruined forever.

"Jay?" You manage to mutter under your breath, still not opening your eyes.

"Yes, I'll get you out of here"

"Hm, hats" you hummed, he doubted you were even aware of anything.

"I know, baby"

"off" Your voice was low and it seemed to him that you were fighting to stay awake and losing.

He took off the crown from your head and the headband from "Alice's". Listening to your advice, even if you were barely conscious. Once he confirmed you were okay, he carried you out. Then he came back for the little girl next to you, and so on until everyone was out and hat free. By that time police had arrived, and Batman was handing Jervis' ass to the cops to begin the cycle once more. He holds back, watching from afar to avoid getting caught. He watched as Batman shared a few words with Gordon, then Barbara tuned in to let him know which hospital they were taking you to.

When you wake up he is next to you, holding your hand and with the biggest eye-bags you've ever seen him with. He almost starts crying when you call his name in a hoarse whisper.

"I'm okay,"You whisper, wrapping your arms tightly around him. The scene is too touching as you see someone put a hand on his shoulder and tell him something.

"I'll go tell the doctors you woke up" He excused himself, reluctant even to let go of your hand, much less entertained by the idea of being separated from you too long.

You didn't see him as Jason's frame covered the man behind him but now you notice the one and only Bruce Wayne standing in your hospital room. It was too much to take in.

"Oh, Jason must really love me if he was willing to work with you"

[hayakawalove]

Survival Skills

Summary: Suguru has to go on a business trip, leaving you and Satoru to fend for yourselves. Will you be able to? A/N: I really really like this fic. I thought the idea of you and Gojo trying to figure out how to manage without Suguru would be very funny. I doubt Suguru minds caring for either of you, my whole thing about him is that he needs to be needed. Comments always appreciated!

CW: SFW, Fluff, Polyamory, Food, Teasing, Humor, Comfort, Light Angst, Suggestive Joke, Very Mild Infidelity Joke, Gender Neutral Reader, They/Them Reader W/C: 6,697

Credit to Benkeibear for the banner

“Alright, I made some garden pasta for the both of you. It’s in the fridge. I also left out some recipes in case you guys go through that fast.” 

You stand next to the door, staring up at Suguru as he lists off the food he had left for you and Satoru. He was such a worrier, if you didn’t know any better you would think Suguru thought the both of you might starve the second he left. 

On second thought, you might. 

“Thank you Suguru-“ you start. 

“And I left some chicken in the fridge for tonight’s dinner. It just needs to be cooked, I already marinated it, it's that one you liked from-“ He interrupts you, his lips twisted in a frown. 

“-Thank you, Suguru.” You grab him by the arms, holding him firmly as you cut him off. 

Suguru stops talking, no doubt getting the message. You had been trying to get him out the door for thirty minutes now, you were certain the taxi driver outside was nearly losing his mind. 

Suguru peeks over your head, sliding past you to walk towards Satoru. He was laying on the couch, his long limbs hanging over the edge. You really should get a bigger couch. 

Suguru leans down and places a kiss on Satoru’s lips, almost melting down when Satoru lifts a hand up to hold the back of his head. The sight almost brings you to your knees. 

“Do you really have to go?” Satoru asks when Suguru peels himself off. 

Suguru hums before squeezing Satoru’s shoulder, turning around to face you once more. 

“Are you sure you guys are going to be okay?” Worry is etched into his face. 

“Yes, mom. We'll be fine.” You reassure him, even though the words feel hollow. 

Would you be fine? You and Satoru were grown adults, fully capable of handling yourselves. 

“If Satoru got an extra kiss, I want one too.” 

Suguru’s face relaxes into a smile as he leans down, placing a gentle hand on your cheek. His lips slip perfectly between yours. You have to fight the urge to drag him back inside. 

A horn sounds out, breaking the tender moment.The cab was still waiting. 

“Okay. Text me if you need anything.” Suguru speaks, punctuating each word with a kiss. 

The overt signs of affection soothe your nerves the slightest bit. Everything would be fine. And you wouldn’t be completely alone. Satoru would be here with you.

Your fingers tremble as you close the door behind Suguru, and an unnerving silence begins to take hold of your residence. It wouldn’t be silent for long though, not when you had Satoru in the house. 

“So what do you wanna do now? We could throw a rager and party till the cops show up.” Satoru proposes. 

You snort and drag your feet away from the door, bringing yourself to the couch. 

“We would need to have friends to do that, Satoru.” 

“Wh- I have friends, don’t know about you though.” 

You roll your eyes while he snickers to himself. Your foot nudges his leg, and he clicks his tongue. You wouldn’t throw a party, although the noise and commotion would have been greatly appreciated. 

“Come on, why don’t we eat some of the leftovers Suguru made and put something on.” 

Satoru sighs dramatically at your denial of a party before sitting up. 

You dish out two bowls of garden pasta for the two of you, your stomach rumbling at the mere sight of Suguru’s cooking. Satoru puts on your favorite show while the two of you start to eat. The food tasted amazing, like always. When Suguru first entered your life, you were sure that eventually you would get used to his cooking, but no. It amazed you every single time you had it. 

At first, it was sort of nice having some extra personal time with Satoru. Being in a polyamorous relationship could be difficult at times, trying to navigate the best way to divide your attention. With Suguru on a business trip, the two of you were able to spend some much needed time together. You even noticed that Satoru clung onto you a little more when you slept, no longer having to share you with Suguru. 

When you wake up in the morning, the bed is decidedly more cold than it was the previous day. You turn your head to the right, Suguru’s designated spot, only to be met with air. You feel a heavy weight against you, long limbs tangled in yours. Satoru. His arm is thrown across your body while his bottom half is laying on top of you, his legs on yours. It was suffocating. But it was just what you needed with the lack of Suguru. 

You close your eyes and focus on Satoru’s breathing. It's a steady pattern, one that could lull you back to sleep if you weren’t careful. It was the weekend so realistically, you and Satoru could stay in bed all day if you wanted to. The idea sounded nice, but you needed something first. 

You jostle your legs, causing Satoru to grumble. You pinch his arm and he yelps, squeezing you tighter. 

“I know you’re awake, Satoru.” 

“No I'm not.” He responds, voice devoid of any sleepiness. 

“I'm hungry,” you whine “you should make us crepes. Suguru left the recipe.” 

Satoru’s eyes flick open and you’re almost startled by the blue looking at you. His hair was ruffled, an adorable look on him. 

“Why don't you make it?” 

The two of you could go back and forth for hours; this was why it was good to have Suguru there to cook. 

“Because I just woke up, I’ll make dinner when we run out of leftovers.” 

Satoru thinks for a moment, before dramatically groaning, pushing himself up. He’s wearing a loose white shirt with black pants, and he looks so cozy you almost felt bad for making him get up. You did need to eat though, and so did he. 

You trudge after him, plopping on a stool at the bar as you watch him navigate the kitchen. He looks confident, like he belongs there, even though you know damn well he hasn’t cooked a thing since Suguru walked into his life. 

You're telling him about your dream as he holds a mixing bowl, leaning his back against the counter as he listens to you while stirring the crepe batter. You decide on Nutella and strawberries for the fillings, the mere thought of it making your mouth water. 

“And then when we left the house, you got struck by lightning-“ you’re talking before he interrupts you. 

“Hah? You killed me off in your dream?” His eyebrows are touching his hairline, looking the slightest bit offended. 

“I can't control my dreams! You can't either. Remember when you had that spicy dream about-“ 

He rushes to cut you off, not wanting to be reminded of it. You weren’t sure why he told you stuff, he knew you would just tease him after. It wasn’t like he was any better. 

“Okay okay, point taken. Kill off Suguru next time though, yeah?” He turns around, and starts to pour the batter into a pan to cook. 

“Duly noted.” You remark, picking up a strawberry to pop into your mouth. 

Satoru faces you again as the crepe cooks, his fingers tapping his arm. He looked impatient. He usually was. You drag your eyes down his body before bringing them back up to his face, where you notice he's already staring at you. 

“See something you like?” He comments, a cocky grin on his face. 

“I do, you wanna go out some time? My boyfriends not home.” 

Satoru chuckles and walks towards the bar, leaning over in front of you. 

He reaches across it and grabs your hand, turning it over until your palm is facing up. He looks calculated as he stares down, running his thumb over the skin, light enough it almost tickles. A small smirk appears on his lips once he sees you squirming out of the corner of his eyes. 

“Wanna play rock paper scissors on who has to do the dishes?” You ask. 

He flicks his blue eyes up to you. 

“I’m cooking, why don’t you do dishes?” 

“Oh, so you’re afraid of losing.” You prod, knowing you’ll get a reaction. 

Satoru sneers and stands up straight with his hand out. You reach out too, noticing the size difference of your fists. 

“Ready?” You wait a moment. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot-“ 

You lay your hand flat while he keeps his in a fist. Satoru’s brows furrow while you grin. His lips twitch while he looks up at you and pouts, always a sore loser. 

“Two out of three?” He proposes, already getting his hand ready for the next round.

You jokingly roll your eyes and set your hand out again. Satoru’s looking at you intently, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth, eyes wide as if he could predict your next move. 

He was able to, apparently. 

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot-“ 

You put down scissors, and his hand is formed into a rock. Satoru cackles and taps your scissors, happy with himself. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself pretty boy, there’s still one round left.” 

The two of you get into position for the final game. There’s a distinct smell floating over to your nose, and you crinkle it as you look over Satoru’s shoulder. 

“Satoru, I think it’s burning-“ 

“Yeah yeah hold on, let’s go.” Satoru’s in the zone. 

You shrug and straighten in your seat. 

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot-“ you recite. 

You put down scissors and he puts down paper. You chuckle as you snip at his hand. He juts his lip out as he grieves his loss, and you almost feel bad. The smell is getting stronger now, and Satoru’s finally picking up on it. 

“Oh, shit- why didn’t you tell me it was burning?” He turns around and fumbles, rushing over to the burner. 

You give him a deadpan stare, shoving another strawberry in your mouth. 

“Gotta cook, gotta clean, gotta do everything around here.” Satoru’s mumbling under his breath. 

“I know, you’re like Suguru.” 

Satoru dumps the burnt crepe in the trash before turning around, pouring more batter in the pan. You watch him from behind as he cooks, his hip popping to the side as he rests a hand on it, tapping his foot as he waits for the crepe. The sight was borderline mouthwatering. 

Once the crepes are finished, Satoru sits next to you as the two of you decorate them, slathering the chocolate spread on and placing strawberries neatly down. While he burned the first one, all the others turned out perfect. Leave it to Satoru to be good at something. He groans in satisfaction as he takes a bite of his. 

Breakfast was good, decidedly so, but there was something missing as you ate. Or rather, someone was missing. 

~~~

You lay on your stomach on your bed as you gaze at your phone. You were calling Suguru, hoping to catch a glimpse of him before you went to bed. 

The phone flashes the second he answers and your head perks up. 

“Suguru!” 

“Hey baby.”

Your heart falters at the sound of his silky tone. 

“How was your day?” He asks. 

He’s lying in a hotel bed, dark circles beneath his eyes as he watches your face. The sight hurts you. He’s made an off-handed comment before that he didn’t sleep well without you and Satoru. Your fingers twitch with the need to reach through the screen to grab him. 

“It was okay, how was yours?” 

“It was alright. Nothing interesting has happened yet,” he pauses and his eyes flick down before he brings them back up to you. “Wish I was home though.” 

“Do you?” You tease, your teeth digging into your cheek. 

“I do. It's a bit weird. I haven’t had this much alone time since Satoru got the stomach flu in school, and even then he was calling me every hour to baby him.” 

You let out a laugh. 

Suguru gets up from his bed and carries the phone with him. It looks like he’s in the bathroom now, you can tell with the shower curtains behind him. He’s shirtless with a pair of pajama pants on, they were red plaid that hung low on his waist. It was a Christmas gift you had gotten him several years ago. Even though he was far away, there was still evidence of your love on his body. 

Suguru sets you on the counter, digging his teeth in the hair tie around his wrist. It hangs from his mouth as his hands comb through his hair, putting it into a bun. You’re mesmerized as you watch the action. 

“Satoru tried making your crepes earlier.” You comment, watching Suguru. 

He hums to prove he’s listening, as he stares into the mirror. You watch his tight stomach as he washes his hands, leaning forward to pull out his contacts. 

“They turned out okay. The second batch anyway. The first batch he got distracted and almost burnt the house down.” 

Suguru blinks a couple times before looking down at you, his eyes squinting. 

“I’m kidding! Well, kind of. We were playing rock paper scissors and he was losing, so he was distracted and the first one burnt. I won by the way.” 

Suguru lifts up his phone and carries you back to the bed, sitting down and sliding on his glasses. He always thought he looked the worst at bedtime, unpresentable he said, but you always thought it was when he looked best. 

“Oh hey, you talking to Suguru?” Satoru enters the bedroom and asks, flopping down. 

He inches up the bed, and lays on top of you, pushing his weight on your back while he grabs the phone, pointing it towards him. 

“You miss us so much you just had to call?” Satoru says lightly. 

“Sure, Satoru.” Suguru’s face softens as he watches him. 

“Did they tell you that I won rock paper scissors?” Satoru goes on. 

You wiggle beneath him, trying to distribute his weight. Fruitless effort. 

“No, they didn’t. They did tell me that they won, though.” 

Satoru plasters on a shocked face and uses his other hand to push your face down towards the bed. You chuckle beneath him, poking your head up again. 

“I’m being bullied in your absence, you know.” Satoru tells Suguru. 

“Well, someone has to keep you in line.” 

You giggle beneath Satoru. It was true. Someone had to manage Satoru while Suguru was gone. 

“I have to head to bed, got an early day tomorrow. I love you both.” Suguru says, and you can tell he really doesn’t want to hang up. 

“Okay… I love you!” You try to make your voice cheery. 

“I love you more!” Satoru almost yells. 

The two of you smile at the camera until Suguru clicks off. You try not to let the silence get to you. 

~~~

The next several days were relatively harmless. Suguru called every day, sometimes multiple times if he had the time. You finally ran out of the garden pasta and chicken leftovers, much to your chagrin. Satoru had eaten more than you thought he would. It was because he told you he thought the two tupperware were his, and that there were two others in the fridge for you. When he overheard Suguru saying he put leftovers for the both of you in the fridge, he took that as there was a container for each of you. 

There wasn’t. 

So here you are. 

You end up driving to the store as Satoru was a self proclaimed Passenger Princess. He talked to you the whole time while shuffling through his playlist. 

When the two of you arrive, Satoru makes a beeline to the carts. His lanky figure hunches over as he pushes it, walking at a much slower pace to keep up with you. Satoru and Suguru usually walked extremely fast, given their freakishly long legs. 

And they made fun of you for being slow. 

Satoru always offered to give you piggy back rides, but you only made that mistake once. You were green in the face once he finished, sick for the rest of the day. 

“What’s on the list?” Satoru asks, eyes trailing over the shelves.

You look down at the paper in front of you, carefully reading Suguru’s neat handwriting. 

“Beef, noodles, broccoli, ginger, and green onion.” You read off. 

You link your arm around Satoru’s (he wasn’t the only one who was feeling extra needy while Suguru was gone). Satoru’s arm is thick and hard underneath yours, the result of working out daily for years. Calling it mere eye candy would be gross negligence. 

The two of you had gotten everything on the list, save for the noodles. You were debating in the middle of the aisle between two different packs. 

“Why can’t we just get that one? Comes with more.” Satoru says, pointing to the package in your right hand. It was twice the size of the other one. 

“Cause it’s not the brand Suguru wrote down.” You respond, eyes flicking back and forth. 

It would be nice to have extra, but still… 

“They’re both noodles.” Satoru remarks. 

“Do you want it to taste like Suguru’s?” 

You take Satoru’s silence as an answer, stuffing the larger package back on the shelf. Honestly, you didn’t really see the need to get the specific brand either. But Suguru was meticulous, and you decided you would be too, in his stead. 

You throw the noodles in the cart, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction flow through you. See? You didn’t need Suguru to function. You normally did shopping with him anyway, but you tended to just talk his ear off the whole time while he picked out what he needed. He liked the company, he said. 

When you turn around, you see Satoru shifting everything in the cart. You raise your brows, waiting for him to explain. 

“Get in.” He lifts his head up, signaling for you to hop in. 

You dart your eyes back and forth between the cart and him. 

“I’m not- we could get in trouble-“

“Oh, so you’re a scaredy cat.” Satoru has a shit eating grin as he leans against the cart. 

Now that was something you couldn’t have. You grumble to him and take his hand as he helps you crawl into the cart. It’s a bit fun, you feel joy sparking in your body the second he moves the cart. He pushes it fast before jumping on the back with both feet, letting the momentum carry the two of you. Your laughter fills the air and Satoru’s grinning at you. You felt so carefree, momentarily forgetting the sadness that lurked beneath. 

What feels like an earthquake shocks you from your moment of joy. You whip your head around to the front of the cart, eyes popping out once you see the cause. Your cart had knocked into someone else’s, the older woman scowling at you. 

“You need to watch where you're-“ she starts, her gaze moving from you to Satoru, “-going.” Her words sound light as she stares up at Satoru, clearly in awe of his beauty. 

“I’m sorry, that was my bad.” Satoru says with a chuckle, scratching the back of his head. 

The woman sputters as she stares up at him. Lucky bastard. He could start a war, and apologize right after and get away with it. Pretty privileges. 

“It’s-it’s okay. Just try to be careful? You wouldn't want to get hurt.” She says, aiming her words at Satoru, even though you were in the one in the cart. 

The audacity. 

“Yes! Thank you!” Satoru is smooth as he waves her off. He doesn’t stop smiling until she’s out of sight. 

“You’re unbelievable.” You murmur under your breath, looking up at him. 

Satoru drops his head to look down at you, and you’re almost startled at the intensity of his eyes. You weren’t immune to his beauty either. 

“It’s not my fault old women love me.” 

“Everyone loves you.” 

Satoru grins, shoving the cart before jumping on it again. He didn’t learn anything. You can’t be mad though, not with the way you start to laugh in fun again. The two of you travel down the aisles, slipping different treats into the cart, shoving them on your lap. 

Satoru pays and the two of you head out, the daunting task of cooking dinner resting on your shoulders. 

~~~

You stand in the kitchen feeling completely out of place as you stare at the ingredients before you. It wasn’t a hard recipe by any means, Suguru picked it for its ease. But it was still incredibly daunting. With a sigh, you begin to start cooking the meat, trying to shove the nerves from your mind. You kicked Satoru out of the kitchen, banishing him to your bedroom while you cooked so he wouldn't distract you. 

It was going okay, it really was, it smelled and even looked delicious. That was until you added the garlic powder. You swear it came out faster than it normally did, probably intent on ruining your night if you had to guess. Your eyes stare at the lump of powder in the pan before you rush to mix it, hoping by some miracle that it would dilute. 

You turn the stove off with a dissatisfied expression, glaring at the meal as if it personally did you wrong. A heavy garlic smell hangs in the air, permeating in the small kitchen, as if to shove your face in the failure. 

“Satoru! It’s… done.” You mumble the last part. 

Satoru comes bounding out of the bedroom, a large grin on his face that twitches the second he reaches you before he forces it back. 

“Smells great!” He comments. 

Your lip wobbles into a frown as you stare up at him. 

“Satoru.” 

“Whaatt? I’m serious. Smells fantastic.” He puts an emphasis on the last word. 

You have to keep a sob from bubbling up your throat. You knew there was no way you could compete with Suguru. Turning around, you mope while grabbing bowls, dishing out the dinner for you two. A dinner that would kill any vampire, even if they just looked at it. 

Hanging your head in shame you nudge Satoru’s bowl over to him. Honestly, you were debating if it would have just been better to starve for the night. Satoru grabs his chopsticks and immediately dives in, shoving the utensils in his mouth once he has a hefty amount of food piled on. 

“Wait-!” You try to stop him, although you're not even sure what you’d say. 

Satoru bounces his head side to side as if he’s thinking, his pale cheeks puffed out from the amount of noodles he had. Your eyes are wide open as you stare at him, unsure if you would need to grab water or google how to do the Heimlich maneuver. 

“It’s good!” Satoru says, chopsticks snapping as he picks even more. 

Your mouth is hung open as you witness him chowing down on the food. He can’t be serious. It’s bad. You know it’s bad. 

Why is he lying? 

“Satoru- it’s okay, you don’t, you don’t have to keep eating it, we can order something.” You move to grab his bowl from him. 

Satoru slaps your hand and flicks his lashes up to you. His face is incredibly serious, and for the life of you, you can’t figure out why. 

“I want this.” He maintains eye contact as he grabs more, slipping it past his pink lips. 

You feel exposed under his gaze so you look away, crossing your chest. Is he trying to prove something to you? 

“We should tell Suguru he’s kicked out of the kitchen once he comes back, since you can cook.” 

“Okay, now that feels like you’re making fun of me.” 

“I’m serious! How’d you get the meat so tender?” He’s speaking around mouthfuls of food. 

The meat was tender. You were actually really proud of it, even snapping a picture to send to Suguru. The food was going good until the incident. 

You poke and prod at your food, taking several bites before you nudge the bowl away. Satoru may be able to put on a brave face as he eats it, but you’re much weaker than him. 

Not only does Satoru eat his bowl, he gets seconds, leaving next to nothing in the pan once he finishes. The first couple bites amazed you, how could he pretend it wasn’t bad? Then he had more, and more, and you were starting to worry the copious amounts of garlic had killed his taste buds. 

You were still hungry so once he finishes, he stands up to make you instant ramen. It wasn’t the healthiest of meals, sure, but at least you weren’t going to go hungry. Satoru sits next to you and watches as you dive in, much more eager to eat this than the monstrosity you created. He has love in his eyes as he stares, opening his mouth wide when you offer him a bite. 

Just where did all that food go? 

“All done?” He asks, standing up to grab your bowl. 

You aren’t even feeling upset anymore. Satoru was good at that, though. He always knew how to cheer you up, using his ridiculousness to his advantage. 

“Thank you, Satoru.” You murmur and wrap your arms around him. 

He uses his free hand to pull you in closer. When you look up at him you feel like you’re floating; you had so much love in your heart for him. Satoru leans down, lips pushed out in an attempt to kiss you. 

You could smell the garlic from where you’re sitting. 

You press your hand against his mouth and attempt to push him away. 

“N-no! I don’t wanna kiss your garlic lips.”

“Baby, you’re so mean to me!” He presses against your hand, face inching closer to yours. 

“Get away from me!” You screech with a laugh, running to your bedroom. 

Satoru cackles behind you, pushing the dirty dishes in the sink to clean later, before he chases after you. 

~~~

Several days had passed since the night you cooked for Satoru. Suguru would be coming home today, you think. It was hard to remember. The days had blended together in a conglomeration of time without Suguru. You were excited to see him again. You hadn’t slept well the past couple of days. You hadn’t slept at all for the past two, really. No matter how warm Satoru felt hogging you at night, his limbs wrapping around you like an octopus, your right side still felt remarkably cold. There was a hole in your bed, a Suguru shaped one. 

He’d be home today. He’d be home. 

When Suguru arrives home, he feels something like excitement and relief wash over him. He was able to come home way earlier than anticipated. The sun was barely starting to peek over the clouds, he wasn’t supposed to be back until dinner time. Suguru digs into his pocket once he’s stopped at the door, rummaging around until he grabs hold of his keys. He carefully pushes them in the door, not wanting to wake you. 

The house is silent when he walks in, almost eerily so. Is this what Satoru was used to? He was always the early bird out of the three of you, waking up hours before you and Suguru even thought to. Suguru keeps his steps light as he walks into the house, leaving his bags by the door. The first thing he notices is a bump of hair poking out above the couch. Your hair. 

Why were you out here? 

Kicking Satoru out, he would understand. But you? 

Suguru makes his way closer to you, standing behind the couch. He leans over and places a hand on your shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of your face. You jump in your seat and screech, your phone flying from your hands. Suguru winces once it makes impact with the floor, and brings his eyes back to you. 

You looked… awful. 

There are dark circles underneath your frenzied eyes, your chest heaving as you stare at Suguru. Once you’re able to comprehend that it’s just him, you twirl around and jump over the couch at him. 

Suguru instantly wraps his arms around you so you won’t drop. 

Are you… lighter? 

“Suguru!” Your words are muffled into his neck, your breathing tickling the side of his throat. 

He feels relief at the weight of you against him. He missed being crushed by the presence of you and Satoru. Suguru lifts a hand up and holds the back of your head, shifting his fingers into your hair. The two of you stand like this until he begrudgingly sets you down. 

Your eyes are lit up as you stare at him, your body practically jumping up and down. 

“You’re here early! Right? What time is it? What day is it?” You ask. 

Suguru’s brow lifts up as he watches you, only tearing his eyes away to stare at his watch. It was very early. 

“Why are you awake?” He asks, looking at you. 

The definition of guilt pinches up on your face. You look away, suddenly finding everything else in the room much more interesting than him, even though you were attached to him moments ago. 

Suguru waits for an answer that doesn’t come. 

“How long have you been awake?” His voice is deeper this time. 

He knows he found the sore spot by the way you wince. Suguru says your name in a reprimanding tone. 

“I am willfully choosing not to answer.” You murmur. 

Suguru grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His heart breaks at the sight. Sure, he probably also looked like he hadn’t slept well in awhile. But that was him, and you are you. And you’re his baby. 

Suguru repeats your name a second time, voice much softer. Your face relaxes as you sag in his hold. 

“Two… days.” You respond quietly, Suguru has to strain his ears to hear the end of it. 

Suguru normally tries not to overreact. That was left to Satoru. But he can’t stop the way his eyes bulge from his head, his lips parting in shock. 

“Huh?” He feels the sudden urge to wrap you up and tuck you away. 

“It’s not my fault! The bed was just so cold… and then I got distracted by my phone, which-” you look over your shoulder at your phone on the floor “-shouldn’t be a problem anymore.” 

Suguru’s heart tugs into guilt. He knew that wasn’t what you were intending. You would never want to make him feel bad. 

You couldn’t sleep without him? 

Suguru sighs and pulls you into a warm hug. You nestle into his embrace, your face smooshing against his broad chest. Suguru swears he can feel himself drifting off to dreamland, but he forces himself out. 

He pulls away and reaches over the couch to grab a blanket. He wraps it tightly around your body, including the back of your head. You look a bit like you’re in a cocoon by the time he’s done. He pulls it tight around your chest, and grabs your face with both hands. 

“Go lay down.” His voice is soft but commanding. “I’m gonna cook something, I’ll get you when it’s ready.” 

You look to the ground like a scolded child as you nod, dragging your feet towards the bedroom. Suguru feels a renewed sense of responsibility as he watches you trudge away. He takes a deep breath and looks around. 

Where was Satoru? 

Suguru knew he would be up. At least, he should be up. Suguru walks into the house, going towards the kitchen. He finds Satoru sitting at the table facing away from him, looking down. 

“Satoru?” Suguru says to announce his presence, learning from his mistake. 

Satoru’s head whips around, tossing his phone on the table while he bounces up to his feet. He charges toward Suguru, jumping up until he’s latched around him. Suguru doesn’t have to hold him in place, he can feel Satoru’s legs wrapped tightly against his back. Suguru sways in place and smoothes a hand down Satoru’s back. He peers over Satoru’s shoulder to the table where he notices a bowl of something. Ice cream. 

A wave of smell coming from Satoru’s shampoo washes over Suguru, and he buries his face into the side of Satoru’s neck even more. He missed that smell. 

Suguru pulls Satoru away, reaching behind to unlatch Satoru’s limbs from his body. He sets him down and looks at him, able to maintain eye contact without looking down. 

Satoru looked good. He thought so, at least. He looked wide awake, probably having been awake for at least thirty minutes. Suguru adjusts one of Satoru’s stray white hairs, before looking him up and down. 

“When’s the last time you ate something green?” Suguru asks, knowing that would be Satoru’s issue once Suguru was gone. 

Satoru looks over his own shoulder to the table at his bowl of ice cream. His bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream. 

“Uh, now?” Satoru responds, looking back at Suguru. 

Suguru squints at Satoru, clearly unimpressed. 

“Have I told you how handsome you are lately?” Satoru goes on. 

“Finish what you have, but I’m making something for everyone. I’m gonna make sure to put lots of vegetables in it, just for you.” 

Satoru whines as Suguru turns around, tying his hair up and shoving his sleeves out of the way. 

You’re nestled in the sheets of your bed when Suguru’s voice pulls you from the deep sleep you managed to find yourself in. It was like just knowing Suguru was in the house was enough to calm your nerves to grant you rest. You twist and turn in the bed, debating on whether or not to bring the blanket with you. You hadn’t realized how exhausted you were until Suguru woke you up, and you found yourself wanting to go back to sleep. 

A delicious smell carries over to the bedroom, snapping you out of your haze. The one thing you missed more than sleep was Suguru’s cooking. 

You jump out of bed and make your way to the kitchen. Suguru’s standing next to the stove, a spatula in hand as he looks down. He isn’t wearing his sweater anymore, instead he was wearing a loose white shirt. Satoru is sitting on the counter next to him with a bowl held firmly in his hands, a spoon in his mouth. He’s wearing Suguru’s sweater now, and you don’t doubt for a second that he begged Suguru for it. 

You didn’t blame him. You wanted to drown in Suguru just as much. 

“Is it ready?” You ask, lifting a fist up to wipe the sleep from your eyes. 

Suguru turns around and a soft smile grows on his face as he watches you. You really were his baby. 

“Just about, will you take Satoru’s dishes? He won’t let me have them.��� 

“I’m not done yet!” Satoru complains, gripping the bowl closer to him. 

“Satoru, the bowl is empty.” Suguru says, as if he’s already repeated that. 

Satoru digs his spoon back into the bowl, lifting it up to his lips again. The bowl was empty. There were only melted remains of the ice cream clinging to the glass, Satoru scooping it up and easing it past his lips. 

You walk up to him and try to tug the bowl from his hands. On the second tug Satoru finally relents, letting you take the dish to the sink. That was one thing you did right. There were no dirty dishes, the house was in relatively clean condition in general. You refused to let Suguru come home to a messy house. 

Suguru dishes out three bowls for you all, evenly distributing the food. Your mouth is watering by the time he’s done, and you’re diving in the second he gives you yours. 

The food all but melts in your mouth. It was so good. And it didn’t reek of garlic. Suguru stands in the kitchen as he eats, watching you and Satoru sit at the bar. There’s an easy smile on his face as he watches you both, only looking away to shovel more food into his mouth. 

“I’m sorry for making you cook.” You mumble around the food, guilt tugging at your chest. 

You really were pathetic, you could hardly survive with him out of the house. He just got back from his trip, yet he dropped everything to take care of you. 

Suguru picks up on the sadness on your face. 

“I don’t mind, really. I was craving a home cooked meal anyway.” 

Satoru’s lips twitch into a smile. He’s up to something. 

“If you wanted a home cooked meal you should have just said so. They made beef noodles while you were gone, we actually saved the leftovers.” 

Your face heats up, and you kick Satoru’s leg besides yours. 

“Shut up! No I didn’t, Suguru!” 

Suguru’s brow is raised as he watches the two of you bicker. 

“Did you? I didn’t see it.” He talks under his breath as he turns around, opening the fridge to look into it. 

“Suguru!” You whine. 

“It’s in the-“ Satoru’s voice is muffled as he speaks through your hand, “-the front in the container.” 

Suguru reaches to grab it, turning around to set it on the counter. They were the leftovers you hadn’t eaten, as Satoru had consumed everything else. Your face is scrunched up as you watch Suguru open the lid. 

A strong smell of garlic fills the area and you sob, covering your face with your hands. Embarrassed didn’t even cover the half of it. 

Suguru’s face is curious as he peers down, using his utensil to dig into the container, not bothering to heat it up. If he can tell how overpowering the garlic is, he doesn’t show it. Suguru bites into the food, chewing for a moment while the room quiets down. 

“You put a unique spin on it.” He finally says. 

You sob even louder, dropping your head. Satoru is chuckling beside you, taking a sip from his cup. 

“I didn’t say it was bad! It’s just, a choice.” Suguru tilts his head as he takes a second bite. 

“Please stop.” You whine. 

The two boys were ruthless together. Sometimes you forgot, but it didn’t take them long to remind you. It was hard to tell which was worse, the upfront bullying of Satoru or the teasing Suguru took up, that often left you wondering if he was being mean at all. 

Suguru closes the container, and for reasons unknown slips it back into the fridge. Personally, you would have preferred if he threw the whole damn thing away, container included. Or lit it on fire. 

“I hate you.” You murmur to Satoru. 

He side hugs you, pulling you close to him; as close as he can without yanking you from your seat. 

“Did you guys have some good bonding time together?” Suguru asks, picking up all your dirty dishes before dropping them in the sink. 

“We did!” Satoru says proudly. 

You did, and that was nice. You just couldn’t announce it right now, you were too busy showing your displeasure. 

Suguru steps out of the kitchen and makes his way to you both. He presses a kiss to Satoru’s forehead, and grabs your jaw. He bites back a coo at the scowl resting on your face. So damn cute. He presses his lips against yours and you nearly melt. Suguru pulls back and lets his eyes float between you two. He really missed you guys. 

“You wanna go back to sleep?” He offers. 

You grin excitedly and hop off the stool, pulling Satoru with you. The two of you trip over your feet as you run to the bedroom, Suguru trailing behind with a smile on his face. 

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @dinolvrrr, @kimi01985, @mikisspeak

Please let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist for whenever I post something

[trustmypoison]

Seungcheol with a fidgety partner

Requested? Yes! Request: ‘hmm cheol or anyone in svt and how they would handle a jittery partner (i say as i am bouncing my leg and fidgeting) lol!’

Seungcheol, who is always offering his hand for you to fidget with He normally thinks nothing of your fidgeting. You pick up a straw wrapper at the restaurant to twist and play with or you play with the handle of your bag as it sits in your lap. He kind of thinks of it as a cute habit, but recognizes that sometimes it stems from anxiety. So if you guys are out somewhere and you don’t have anything specific to fidget with, he won’t watch you bounce from one side to the other for long. He’ll hold out his hand for you and give a little squeeze when you grab on. He’s totally unfazed by you squeezing, or changing the way you grip his hand, or twisting the rings he might have on. He actually finds that it comforts him too. They’re gentle reminders that you’re still right there, even when he might be too busy to give you the attention that he wishes he could.

Seungcheol, who buys you fidget toys for when he can’t be around to hold your hand You have a plethora of fidget toys, all purchased by Seungcheol over the years. Some are stress balls, some are silent spinners, some are rather loud spinners. Some slide, some pop, some snap. You had no idea there were so many different kinds or where he even finds them. And he has them stashed away everywhere. There are some on your desk at home and at work. There’s a couple hidden under the coffee table. There are even a few hidden in the kitchen for you when you come talk to him while he cooks. He knows you don’t always need it, but notices how you seem to be able to relax and focus with something to fiddle with, so when he notices that you’re extra jittery that day, he’s sliding one to you without a word.

Seungcheol, who will gently put his hand over your leg When you’re in a setting that that sort of fidgeting won’t really be suitable, he knows your go-to is to bounce your leg. You two will be out to dinner with others and he’ll feel the rhythmic vibration against his chair. It doesn’t bother him, but he knows it might bother others, thus bothering you. So sometimes, even when he’s eating, he’ll put a hand under the table and lay it across your thigh. There’s absolutely nothing inappropriate about it - just a gentle reminder that it’s okay and you can relax. He’d prefer for you to take a deep breath and eat after this, but sometimes he’ll let it slide when your hands grip on to his under the table.

Seungcheol, who carefully tries to find out what makes you jittery He never wants to pry, but the nervous energy you carry a lot of the time makes him wonder. He’s so gentle about it and doesn’t assume anything bad right away. Maybe you’re just drinking too much caffeine, in which case he might urge you to cut back. Maybe it’s that you just have too much energy even without caffeine, in which case he offers to help you work out some of that energy by going for a walk or run, or going to the gym. Maybe it’s that you’re just kind of stressed lately, in which case he wants to help reduce your stress in anyway he can. But if there’s something that you’re actually nervous about, he wants to know about that too so he can help more. He’ll help you avoid some of those things on occasion, but ultimately he wants you to feel comfortable going about life and will encourage you to face those things (with him by your side, of course).

Seungcheol, who is really relieved that you can relax around him It’s something he’s actually really proud of. Not just that you reach out to him when you’re feeling that way. But sometimes, you’ll come home and collapse into his arms and just finally be… still. He likes that the nervous energy totally dissipates when it’s just the two of you at home. You’re totally at ease curled up next to him on the couch during a movie night. You’re totally still as you both lay in bed, with you on his chest. It’s something that makes him misty-eyed if he thinks about it for too long.

[theastrical]

withering with you (retired genshin men AU)

Genshin men headcannon where they are spending their retirement and old age with you

Kaeya, diluc, childe, alhaitham x fem!reader

a bit angsty yet also fluffy!! hurt/comfort.

Kaeya:

he had retired a few years ago at the age of 65, he retired a bit late than his other comrades due to him enjoying his job as much as how his younger self would. Leaving the job was rather..emotional for him, because his job lead him to meet you, his wife.

Even after years, the knights still give him his monthly pay check to ensure his future and that pay check was used by kaeya to take you out to a romantic dinner. Every single month, in one particular evening, he would asked you to dress up and drive you around the city before taking you out to an expensive dinner.

Would help you walk since your legs aren’t as strong as it used to be. Lending his arm to let you hold into cause he doesn’t want you to fall.

He needs you 24/7. He can barely use a phone and would asked you to set up the brightness to dim, how to save contacts, and how to chat his grandchildren.

Would cook you food everyday, breakfast? He’ll serve it on the bed, with his signature smiley face with ketchup. lunch? Whatever you want, he’ll make it (or if it’s too hard, he’ll buy it). Dinner? You’ll get full course meal. Quality time for him means seeing you enjoy his food and his company.

Would nag you to get a check up every month with him, because he prioritise your health the most and he will carry you if you’re being whiny. The dedication is surreal.

Has an investment for a couple graveyard so when you both have finally passed away, both of you would get to be buried with each other. Because he doesn’t want to burden his children to think about their funeral and burial, he wants his and your death to be prepared since the very beginning.

His favorite activity is walking around the street with you and teases some children in the garden about monsters, until today he loves scaring children. Yes he also loves to scare your grandchildren because he loves to make

Bought couple clothes for you and him…wear it in every single place since he barely change his clothes (he forgets he had used it for 4 days straight. Somehow it smells like his rose shampoo.

Diluc:

As soon as he retired he takes you out to a vacation. What is the definition of his vacation? Eat free breakfast in the hotel, look around the hotel, sleep, eat the street food, look around the local stores, look around some art gallery, go back to hotel, take a bath, dinner date, sleep. It’s boring, but he would take you out to some pretty dinner in the local area so you can taste the real deal!

you’re his walking reminder, since he can get lost just by walking beside you, that’s why when he walks too fast while you both stroll by the street, you have to immediately tug on him. “Diluc…if you stray, you won’t be able to come home..the hotel key is with me..”

also he’s really mesmerized by bath bombs, he collects every scents the salesman offer (he’s easily persuaded by the salesman). Now, he had bought around 20 of it. You have been stressing about the spending…sometimes he helps you bathe with the relaxing bath bombs since you’ve always been the one to take care of the finance and house problems. Obviously, it stresses you out even more knowing Diluc’s excuses to buy these bath bombs are also because he wants you to be more relaxed.

Gets more emotional these days, he eats the breakfast you made and cried. “One day i won’t eat your grilled sausage again..” he cried silently and wiped it, you were confused instead of worried but you still hugged him from behind to at least make his heart steady… Afterwards, he just ate it again as if there’s nothing wrong with him. He’s a weirdo.

gets more clingy, especially when he sleeps, he would hug you unconsciously and squish you. he might be old and grey, yet his power is still the same as the young him

he loves quality time, he would follow you around everywhere. if you plant flowers, he would be the one to wipe your sweat. if you cook lunch, he would be the one to cut the veggies or meat. if you're doing your makeup, he'll be the one to offer you his face as your lipstick test.

he hates outdoor activity, he just wanted to stay at home and cling to you like a koala as he gossips about kaeya.

childe:

in the night of his retirement, he held a huge party. he's old enough to be a grandpa yet he celebrates his retirement by drinking and playing cards. you can only watch from afar, staring at him menacingly before he gets scared by your anger and immediately stops the party. the house was a mess. a wreckage. "I'm sorry...ill treat you to a-" "no." "but honeeeyyyyyyyyyyyy"

becomes even more whiny. he had always been bad with managing the household money even as he reach retirement, you're the one in charge of his money. when he want something, he has to get your approval and if he's persistent he'll start to persuade you using his clingy self.

he gets easily bored, that's why retirement means going out daily. he'll wake you up at 7am just to accompany him run a marathon in a 5-celsius degree weather.

would tease you just so he can laugh at you for being silly. at some point he pulls up a prank that makes you cry, he immediately kneels down to apologise but ends up injuring his knee, ah yes, his legs are already stiff, he forgets he's an old man by now.

his new hobby? farming. even with the sharp weather and uneasy condition, he continues his hobby diligently, he plants your favorite veggies and fruits, making sure the quality of the food is guaranteed.

As he grew older you realise he also gets even more jealous, sometimes when you were just talking to the butler in the house, he would immediately scoffs and hold your hand, as if he guards you from being stolen by that butler (he hates handsome man because he wants him to be the only man for you).

He snores so loudly, it gets even louder as he ages, and somehow you can still sleep so peacefully. He’s a deep sleeper and you’re a dead sleeper, somebody who can’t be budge while sleeping…you both are perfect for each other indeed.

Alhaitham:

He retired quietly, he didn’t want to make a fuss about his retirement, after all his health was slowly declining and his line of work needs his survival instincts, hence he decided to stay at home and enjoy his pensions.

To make sure he didn’t lose his mind, he bought a gaming station. He was used to his work in the academia that he forgot how to relax his mind at least a bit, so he played some online games with you (even when you can barely play the game since he’s already a pro by days, he helped you and carried you so you both can play in the same level)

He tried doing meditation, he sucks at it because he kept getting interrupted by your humming while watering the garden, he wanted to tell you to be quiet but deep down…he enjoyed it, it makes him feel fuzzy.

He kept on persuading you to have a pet…”we’re both already old and aging, let’s have a pet together…at least for once in our life, please..?” He asked politely, too polite it makes you get in the mood to accept his persuasion.

Nevermind. You’re trapped into his fantasy of getting a pet. You were dragged to a pet store and alhaitham immediately shows you a huge golden retriever that wags it’s tails so energetically with it’s lovely eyes. how can you not melt from that sight..? Now that golden retriever is now alhaitham and yours best buddy.

He abandon his game station to play with the dog everyday, he even teaches the dog to send you his artificial flower he made secretly because he can’t never give it to you face to face since he’s too prideful and embarrassed.

If the dog disobeyed you he would scold it, because all he does to the dog is teaching him tricks to please you. Yes he secretly does this since he’s too shy to convey his “thanks” for you after looking out for him day by day.

You guys will have a date where he takes the dog out for a walk as his other hand held your hand tightly. You guys will just enjoy the sunset as you rant out about your day to him even when you both are mostly together everyday since the day he retired.

[itostea]

rings (gojo x wife! reader)

in which you want your arranged husband to finally give you a ring

warnings: arranged marriage au (part of the gojo's wife series), gojo calls you his wife, suggestive bc gojo is a menace, reader lowkey downbad, i'm back after 4(?) months oops & lmk if i’m missing anyone for the tag list

There’s a gentle breeze that escapes from the open windows of the cafe you sit in, the quiet chatter blending in with the bossa nova jazz that plays from the speakers. Only a few people reside in the building–some of which include students, friend groups, or strangers just hoping for a nice cup of coffee. 

Your eyes flit to Utahime using a straw to make circles in her drink. She was the one who recommended this cafe, referring to it as an “underground” location–a phrase that you would’ve not expected her to use. Correctly at that. 

“How are you doing with that idiot,” your other friend, Shoko asks. “Do you guys still sleep in separate rooms?”

You watch her reach for a cigarette and frown, your hand slapping hers lightly. “There's a ‘no smoking policy’ here. And to answer your question, no we’re not. We’ve been sleeping in the same room for a little over a month now.”

“On the same bed?”

“Yes?”

“And that’s it?” She drawls, arching an elegant brow as she puts her box of cigarettes away–taking another sip of her black coffee. “Nothing else? You know, like clothes gone, french kissing–”

“Yes that’s it! Keep it down here,” you hiss, shooting another glare at Utahime who stifles a laugh by pretending to drink her tea.

Shoko rolls her eyes, taking another sip of her coffee–this time narrowing her eyes at you. “So why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.”

“Yes you are,” she retorts and you frown when you hear Utahime agree. They’ve always been so sharp. “Something’s bothering you so tell us.”

You purse your lips, gripping your cup a bit tighter as you heave a sigh. You’re avoiding their gazes, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s stupid.”

“We’re not gonna judge you,” Utahime gives you a reassuring smile, nudging Shoko who tries to take out her cigarette box again.

“Okay,” you start. “Something feels like it’s missing. Not that it’s ‘Toru–”

“You call him ‘Toru?” Shoko laughs quietly, rolling her eyes when you narrow your eyes at her. She sighs. “Continue.”

“There's nothing wrong with ‘Toru and I feel like I’m expecting something from him. We’re making progress with the whole husband and wife thing but I guess I just want,” you pause. “I guess I’m just wondering when he’s gonna give me a ring…”

They both blink at you, with Utahime making a sound with her throat. “There’s no way that idiot’s that stupid.”

“But that makes sense. The wedding just happened on paper since the elders wanted Gojo to get married quickly,” Shoko adds. “So? What are you gonna do? Drop hints?”

“That’s not really my way of doing things…”

Shoko rolls her eyes for the nth time, frowning at the lack of coffee in her cup. “Things would be a lot easier between you two if you just communicated,” she says, holding a hand up when you’re about to respond. “But I say give him some time. Gojo might be a lot sharper than he lets on.”

You replay your friend’s words in your head as you dice the carrots mindlessly–throwing them in a bowl with chopped up potatoes. Ever since Gojo told you that he hardly has any time to cook with the sudden rise of curses, you’ve been wanting to surprise him with a home cooked meal: curry rice. After all, you were finally granted some leisure time after a mission so you were more than happy to set up a surprise.

Not that it was much of a surprise since he was home earlier than usual–not that you were mad since it was rare for him to arrive home just a little after you did. You perk up, catching a glimpse of his boyish grin that seems to spread across his face. “Oh? What’s this?”

You clear your throat, feeling a bit bashful at how pretty his smile was. “I’m making dinner for us since we haven’t been able to have a home cooked meal in a while.”

“Well, aren't I a lucky guy?” He ruffles your hair as if it were a habit of his, his eyes as soft as his voice the moment he leans down. “You mind if I take a shower first? I promise it’ll be quick.”

“Your shower’s are never quick,” you comment, giggling at how he acts as if he’s been caught. As he leaves, you feel yourself getting giddy at how wide his grin had been when he saw you. You wonder if he always looked at you like that and you have to mentally calm yourself down by reminding yourself to not get too excited. 

By the time you set the plates down, you already hear the padding of his feet against the marble floor. He’s dressed comfortably in a pair of sweats and a pullover, sitting in front of you. He smiles again, murmuring a low “hello” as if somewhat shy. 

You smile in return, observing him as he takes a bite of the food you made. Your heart stops for a few seconds, gauging his expression for any sign of disgust–feeling it explode in your chest when he eats it like a starved man. “Is it good?” 

“So good,” he answers without hesitation, flashing another grin at you–the same grin that makes you feel warm inside. “My wife’s so talented.”

“It’s just curry rice,” you respond, feeling a bit sheepish at how easily he sings praises to you. You realize you’ve been watching him eat for a little over than a minute, your hands reaching to the utensils to try your own food. 

The conversation takes off naturally. He’s asking about your day at work and you do the same; he teases you and you shoot another remark at him. It’s all good-natured until he pauses, looking a little hesitant. “Listen (Name),” his voice is lower, nervous. “I know I should've done this before but it really didn’t cross my mind…”

Your reaction is instantaneous as much as you try to hide it. The ring. Was he going to give you one? Your eyes flit to his furrowed brows and the way he pokes the inside of his cheek. If he’s this nervous, then it should be pertaining to a ring right? You’re already answering before he can finish. “Yes.”

He blinks, peering directly at you. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod, your smile wide as you lean a bit closer to the table. 

He breaks out in a large smile, breathing a sigh of relief. “Wow I didn’t know you liked Netflix so much.”

All of a sudden, the delusions you’ve been building up topple like dominos. Your voice’s stuck in your throat as a wave of bemusement hits you. “Huh?”

“I was gonna give you my Netflix account! I completely forgot to give you it for a while and the kids have been on my ass about it.”

“Y-Your Netflix account?” You murmur in disbelief, wondering if sharing a Netflix account was a golden rule couples had to obey. 

It was Gojo’s turn to be confused, his pretty blues blinking at you. “That’s what we’re talking about right?”

Disappointment drenches you from top to bottom but you quickly mask it with an easy going smile. “Yeah! I love Netflix…”

You breathe a sigh of relief, mentally applauding yourself for not mentioning anything about a ring. You take another bite of your food, not noticing the way Gojo looks at you–gulping as if hiding a secret of his own. 

“I want to give you something,” your husband’s voice is gentle, velvety as he pulls you towards the couch. 

He smells good, you think to yourself–earthy and fresh. It’s faint yet it’s enough to make you dizzy. “Something?”

“That’s right,” he coos, grinning down at you from the couch. Again, you have that undeniable feeling of hope choking you, trying your hardest not to show your excitement as he reaches in his pocket.

Yet, instead of a small, round object, you’re faced with a card. A black card. Not a ring. Your lips part in shock as the initial disappointment becomes surprise. “I can’t take this!” 

You’re left with more disbelief at how his expression seems to fall dramatically. “Why not…?”

“Because I just can’t!” 

“But you’re my wife and I wanna spoil you,” he tries to reason and you have to try not to swoon how he calls you his wife even though you already know it. You clear your throat, shaking your head rapidly. 

“I can’t ‘Toru–”

“Yes you can,” he huffs, his lips falling into a pout that you would’ve found funny if he didn’t just hand you his card. “Trust me on this one. You’ll make me happy if you use it. So treat yourself, alright?”

You frown, murmuring another protest and stopping when he glances at you from under his shades, his lips curling into a coy smile once he sees the guilt in your eyes–his mind piecing things together. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” He ruffles your hair once more, making your heart do another jump. “Just take it. Please?”

You think he’s doing it on purpose–the way he looks at you as if you’re a diamond among rocks. It’s hard not to say no when someone looks at you like that–harder when it’s Gojo. You sigh. “Fine. But I’m not gonna use it often.”

He grins that smile you like again, his thumb grazing your jaw. “That’s my girl.”

You avert your eyes at his binding smile, ignore how he seems to enjoy teasing you a bit too much. You sigh, ignoring the way your heart flutters all over again. And with the way he watches you, you think his stomach’s doing somersaults as well

It’s early in the morning, dark in the room you share with Gojo��the sun barely awake just as you were. There’s the sound of quiet shuffling, the spot next to your empty. It must be one of those missions, you think to yourself.

You hear him murmur a low curse at the sound of something dropping, feeling amusement at how he tries to quietly put the item back in its original place. You think of falling asleep again but your gut tells you to stay awake, still listening to his quiet pacing. 

You feel how the mattress slightly dips, his cologne filling your senses–luring you to sleep. Out of sheer willpower, you try not to react as his fingers reach down to graze your cheek–try not to open your eyes to see what kind of expression he wore. You wonder if he did this every time he had a mission so early in the morning, feeling an unfamiliar feeling tug at your heart. 

His voice is barely above a whisper as he leans down. “I’ll be back home by dinner today. I promise.”

Part of you debates on falling asleep and it wins, until you feel him shuffle a bit closer. And just like that, you feel cold metal slip on your finger–your ring finger. The material fits perfectly around your finger and your hand twitches as you hear him stand up to leave. 

It hits you a bit later than you’d expect and you would’ve never thought realization would sound like the front door opening. You scramble out of bed, tripping on the blankets as you smile so hard it hurts. 

“Toru?! Wait! Don't leave yet! Toru come back!” 

And like you hoped, he looks back, the metal of a ring similar to yours greets you.

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