#like sir. you do not speak like that but also even if you did the writers should do better to not just jump to that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deebris · 7 months ago

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From annoying to beloved

Homelander x fem!Reader

Synopsis: The new member of the Seven annoys Captain Patria with their habit of doodling in the corners all the time, but he didn't expect to end up liking it.

During the fourth season, it can be read as both romantic and platonic.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of murder, the reader has the power to control plasma, fluffy.

The reader is also kind of anxious.

Word count: 2.9k

"You gotta be fucking kidding with me." Homelander interrupted abruptly upon hearing snores in the room. "Is Noir sleeping?"

"Mmhmm," Firecracker murmured in agreement, but the masked superhero jolted awake when The Deep kicked his chair.

"Oh, shit! Sorry, guys." Black Noir straightened up, while the Captain shook his head in disbelief, unable to fathom what he had just witnessed.

"Ah, what the fuck." The blonde furrowed his brows, eyes darting around the room quickly, then fixing on a specific point when something else caught his attention. He had noticed you earlier with a notebook and pencil, but now you're not writing but drawing. The irritating sound of the graphite scraping against the paper had been bothering him for some time, but he had tried to ignore it, assuming as a newcomer you were taking notes.

He wouldn't lie. Though he found taking notes utterly stupid, he liked to think someone was that focused on what he said. Not that he needed it, just opening his lips and everyone would be watching him. But as if that weren't enough, he finally realized you were dressed in regular civilian clothes.

"Radiance, where's your suit?" He asked slowly, but angrily. "Can't anyone do anything right around here?"

You finally tore your attention from the paper, meeting Homelander gaze directly. It's not that you weren't paying attention—in fact, you were, maybe more than anyone else there. It was easier to absorb things while doodling, a way to calm your nerves. Well, that or rubbing your sweaty fingers together until they hurt.

No one ever understood. Even back in school, your parents used to receive complaints about you drawing during class, no matter how high your grades were or the fact that you were the top student.

This was your first meeting with the Seven, and the last thing you wanted was to give the impression of being careless or not caring about being there. It could be said that one of the best days of your life was yesterday when Vought sent you a notice, letting you know that the greatest superhero of all had personally chosen you to join the team. After so many "retarded" - in his words - he had been forced to accept into the Seven, Homelander saw in you, above all, the opportunity to make up for Firecracker's ridiculous weakness.

When Ashley began talking about your powers, he had no doubt the last spot was yours. It was simply brilliant. Who the hell would have imagined someone would have powers to control a state of matter? You could maneuver fire, generate electrical discharges, disrupt magnetic fields, and damn it, you could split atoms as if slicing butter.

Vought's scientists said they didn't know if it was possible, but you could destroy the damn out of a star one day. Homelander wasn't a science guy, but in one of his moments of boredom, he got curious and did some research. He didn't even know that plasma crap was all that, he thought it was a cell thing or whatever.

He always thought someone with a power as peculiar as yours, and at your age, would be arrogant or just plain dumb. But you were actually the complete opposite. You didn't speak unnecessarily, and while you seemed very aware of your own actions, you had no clue how powerful you were, or perhaps ignored that fact. The blonde thought you were an idiot for it, but he appreciated the inferiority you submitted to, especially in relation to himself.

"I don't have one, sir," you replied to his question, feeling small with everyone looking.

"What the hell?" He continued, focusing on you with incredulous voice, he couldn't believe it. How did someone end up here without even having a superhero suit?

The truth was, you had never been part of any team before, nor had you received any sponsorship during your life, or even attended Godolkin University. The only thing you had were your powers, which were indeed impressive. You never chased after any position, nor were you ever obsessed with being a famous superheroine, but lately you thought it would be a good adventure to radicalize your life. That's when you applied to join the Seven.

"How do you have a name and not have a fucking suit?" He asked, boiling with anger, fists clenching tightly behind his back.

"They gave me a name when I filled out the application," you answered honestly. That day, after they chose to call you Radiance, a random and easily commercial name, you couldn't complain much and didn't want to bother, so you left it at that.

"You'll be introduced as an official member of the Seven tomorrow, how do you not have a suit?" He took his hands off his back, moving them as he spoke to express his confusion, and for a few moments you followed it movement like a child who can't keep their attention on anything for long. "Who's handling your marketing?"

You couldn't answer, so you stayed silent and no one else dared to say a word either. You had no idea who was handling your marketing, not knowing you should even have that. You glanced quickly around the table, perhaps seeking some kind of help for the situation, but everyone looked down when they realized you were staring at them. They were enjoying themselves, and that made you exhale through your nose in embarrassment.

"You know what? Fuck it, doesn't matter." Homelander brought his fingers to his furrowed forehead, letting out a loud sigh as he calmed down. "Just... don't show up like this in public until someone gives you a suit."

"Yes, sir," you replied tensely, relieved that he had resolved the matter.

Sister Sage widened her eyes in relief when she finally saw the superhero sitting beside her. She opened her mouth to begin speaking, as she had intended from the beginning, but when some sound was about to come out of her mouth, Homelander spoke to you again, this time pointing an accusatory finger at you:

"And stop drawing, damn it," he ordered, causing you to slowly drop the pencil on the table, as if caught doing something wrong with the weapon of the crime in hand. You stared at your lap throughout the entire meeting, embarrassed for messing everything up on your first day.

When the meeting ended, you followed most people out of the room, but stopped nearby in one of the hallways. You slid down the wall, crouching in a hidden corner, and lightly tapped the sketchbook against your forehead in annoyance.

"Stupid," you murmured softly to yourself. It was so ridiculous, yet it embarrassed you so much. Maybe this first day wasn't so bad after all. You would have plenty of time to prove your worth to everyone, no need to dwell on this situation. Even though you had been corrected in front of some of the most iconic supers by Homelander himself, this situation could be overcome. It was thinking about it that kept you from letting the burning tears fall.

"I can hear you whining," Homelander voice made you jump to your feet, startled to be caught once again doing something you shouldn't. He didn't seem happy, and his expression was so intimidating that you felt like Mariah Carey performing for a crowd of Eminem fans.

He approached you in slow steps and you held the sketchtebook protectively to your chest, as if that could protect you from something. He glanced down to briefly see the object in your hands and looked at you with disgust.

"If you don't straighten up, I'll kick you out. Got it?" Everything about him exuded threat. Maybe if he weren't so imposing and powerful, that sentence would have sounded a bit like the janitor from your old school scolding you for spending too much time in the bathroom during class.

You were paralyzed standing there and all you could do was a nod. But your gesture made him more aggressive.

"Answer with your mouth. Are you mute or something?" And there he was, hands behind his back again. He seemed to enjoy that pose.

"I won't mess up, sir," you said, swallowing your saliva.

"And get rid of that. Or burn it, do whatever, just get rid of it. And I better not see you with that again," he said referring to your notebook, walking away faster than before. "These kids..." you heard him mutter distantly.

After that happened, you didn't destroy the sketchtebook, but you were afraid of being caught and kept it safely tucked away in the back of a drawer in your room. What the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't feel, right? You mentally made a promise to yourself not to use it anywhere else but here, to avoid causing more trouble.

It's been a week since you've been with the Seven, and several strange things have happened. You quickly realized that Homelander wasn't the pristine and merciful hero everyone believed him to be. But the truth was that deep down you already expected that. Everything about heroes always seemed too perfect and pure, there had to be a catch. Despite everything, you still remained yourself, never intentionally hurting anyone or getting involved in murders and conspiracies.

You were comfortable helping out with some minor crimes that Vought sent you to solve, but by now you suspected that sooner or later Homelander would ask you to do some of his atrocities. It was still hard to think about how to feel about it, but you weren't naive, you were already mentally preparing to submit to it or else be killed.

During that time, as you adjusted and interacted with the team, it didn't go unnoticed by Homelander that you were drawing on your own hand, or on napkins and on random sheets you found lying around, even though you hadn't shown up with your sketchtebook again. This was starting to wear on his last nerve, but he tried to ignore it. As long stayed as you were, without asking too many questions and obedient, he made an effort to continue overlooking your makeshift drawings.

"Meeting's over," the blond suddenly declared, interrupting another of the Seven's weekly gatherings while cutting off The Deep's rambling about his ideas.

"But I haven't even talked about the flying shark yet," he tried to defend himself.

"Shut up," Homelander's voice rang out sternly in the room, issuing a warning that the man promptly obeyed.

"Right. Meeting's over." Ashley nervously moved to gather the portfolios on the new soda advertisement she had come to present, but as soon as she touched the first folder, specifically the A-Train one, the superhero exploded in rage:

"Ashley! Get out!" She immediately dropped the folder in place and hurried out in her heels, unable to run in them. "All of you! Get out of here."

Everyone got up from their chairs, even you, and filed out through the front door, leaving the folders on the table. Sister Sage hesitated, thinking she might be an exception, but when his scowl deepened, she understood she should leave too.

With the room empty, Captain Patria took a few minutes to admire the view from the tower. He enjoyed staring at it sometimes, even when bored.

"Bunch of idiots," he muttered to himself, shaking his head in denial, indignant. If he had to spend one more minute with these morons, he would have a heart attack, even though that was technically impossible for him.

He threw his cape back as he turned to leave, looking down and not focusing on anything in particular. But his eyes caught something different from the other folders. It was obviously yours, with a huge drawing covering the text and images printed on it.

That was the first time he actually saw something you had scribbled. And damn, it was perfect. It was a drawing of everyone in the room, with him in the center looking angry. Just as he was. His ego flared up as he noticed that his figure was more detailed than the others'. You must have started drawing him first, hence had more time to detail him. The idea of you making him the main focus of this particular drawing made his pupils dilate. He used his super hearing to check if anyone else was around and secretly took that sheet for himself.

The next time he saw you drawing in the Seven's room, he couldn't help but wonder if you were drawing him again. As soon as he noticed you sneakily reaching for a pen that belonged to Ashley, he looked in your direction. The noise that used to annoy him now sparked curiosity. And after staring at you for so long, it didn't take long for you to look back at him too. The blond thought you would be embarrassed, like most people, but you just grinned as if you were used to being caught looking. And indeed, you were.

You began drawing Homelander more frequently when you realized he never caught you watching him. It was easier and avoided awkward situations with other people. After two whole weeks of drawing him continuously while taking advantage of this freedom, you felt capable of drawing his face without even needing to see a photo, having memorized most of his distinctive features.

Well, it seems he's finally noticed you.

Sometimes, when alone in your room, you took out your sketchbook and started practicing the memory of his facial features you had developed. Just like every other time, you became absorbed in the drawing, focusing only on the voices around you to understand what was being said. This was also a way to keep yourself engaged during conversations, so you wouldn't get restless from being still while being a mere spectator of everything. After all, you never participated much or gave opinions; Deep already did enough for two.

The meeting had already ended, but you stayed in your chair, even as everyone else left, to finish just a part of the hair. You thought no one would mind, and then you would leave as usual, but a voice caught you by surprise:

"Can I take a look?" Homelander asked, for the first time, using a gentle voice beside you. His expression was enigmatic, somewhat relaxed, and shy at the same time.

You turned the stack of post-it notes, also taken from Ashley, for him to see what you had drawn, fearing what he would say. You weren't ashamed of drawing people, much less of them catching you doing it. You feared because he found your habit annoying.

He observed the drawing, seeing his posture from the side, upright and imposing. He wondered if you drew him exactly as you saw him, or if it was just another caricature of reality, like those Photoshopped pictures spread around. He looked much better than he imagined, though he had that superiority complex that made him see himself as a god.

For a moment, he was offended to see his image stamped on such despicable things as scraps of paper and these damn post-it notes. Your fingerprints were also visible stains, and the paper was slightly wrinkled from his sweat. He had noticed that sometimes you drew calmly, as if you had all the time in the world, and other times it was like drawing on a boat in a storm. Today seemed to be the latter situation.

"Do you like drawing me?" He glanced at you.

"I do," you shrugged. That was the simplest and most truthful answer you could give. "Sorry, I won't do it anymore," you said, thinking he was bothered by it.

"Why?" He ignored your apology.

"You're drawable... I guess," you stared at the table, not understanding the flow of the conversation.

"And what the fuck does that mean?" He asked in a louder voice, turning to face you, obviously confused. "Is this some artistic shit?"

"It's just that you're easy to draw because you have unusual characteristics. It's a good thing," was your answer, and it inflated his chest with narcissistic pride. Unusual, that's what you said, but to him, it was like being called extraordinary.

"Next time you draw me, try using a sketchbook," he said sternly, pretending to reject your work, but deep down, he just didn't want to show that he really liked it. That statement was his way of encouraging you to continue, but at the same time, it was so ironic, considering he got mad at you just when you were drawing him in the sketchtebook that day.

"But you asked me to get rid of mine," you said simply, your voice dwindling with each word of the sentence, not wanting him to find out that you had never thrown it away.

"I'll get you a new one," he said dismissively, taking the entire stack of post-it notes with him, including the drawing, as if you wouldn't notice.

#imagine #x reader #homelander #the boys season 4 #homelander x reader #the boys x reader #oneshot #the boys amazon #homelander x you #the boys s4 #homelander fanfiction #antony starr #antony starr x reader #the boys homelander #the boys the deep #sister sage

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whorelaud · 3 months ago

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꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 hushed fantasies ¡

pairing brother's best friend¡nicholas chavez x fem¡reader

summary thinking you were messaging your friend, you accidentally sent your brother's best friend a thirsty paragraph about him, with Nicholas opening it before you get a chance to delete it. what you were not expecting was the leading conversation, causing realization to wash over you as he hints your desire is not one-sided after all.

contains suggestive, sexual tension, a bit of dirty talking, a brief kiss, flustered reader, cocky nic, hes also very freaky (uhh???)

a/n this is the silliest thing ive ever written i was giggling the whole time while writing it. likes and reblogs are v much appreciated!!!

word count 1.7k

You: the amount of self control i have is insane because why do i not have this mans dick in my mouth rn please i need nic so fucking bad its not even funny anymore he is everything i want in life id let him use me any day morning afternoon n night im available ugh i dont even get the ick when its him he was acting like a dad earlier yelling at us to grill the meat right and it was so adorable ill call you daddy u want me to call u sir i dont kink shame im down for whatever king omg stop he got hurt earlier and he GROANED???? i almost fell to my knees YAHOOO he definitely whimpers #needthat 10/10 i just know its thick ooh tip pink shade #d97e77 thats insane till my knees are bruised and my throats scratched my panties fell tears are rolling down my thighs OMG PLS can you feel my pain hes so bodangshis how does my brother look at him and not wanna fuck him id be all over him if that was my friend gahhhd!!! hes actually so sweet he kept speaking to me earlier so i dont feel left out of the conversation and i find that adorable do u think he slaps it before he cums oh my his girlfriends so lucky im ab to put her in a headlock ahaha this is gross no man should have this much of an impact on u unless their dick is big and the sex is absolutely amazing yooo what he probably knows how to please a lady id be hard if i had a dick rn STOPP he has a happy trail im gonna lose it hahah lets find out where it leads i dont wanna think ab that im going crazy literally pulling my hair out that should be u baby GIVE ME A CHANCE?!!!! thinking ab him makes me so nervous this is getting a little too srs ahaha okay im sorry hows life?!? i miss u :(

Sending that message, you were anything but expecting the response you got in return, not from the man himself, that’s for sure.

nic: oh?

nic: i think you got the wrong person

You audibly gasp, realization washing over you as you read over the message. That was, in fact, not for Nicholas, nor was it for anyone but your friend to see.

You panic, putting your phone down to process what happened, needing a moment before responding. Right, you needed to do that.

But why did he see it so fast? He didn't even give you time to comprehend your message, the text switching to read in an instant.

Hell, it was midnight, and it’s been a long, tiring day for the both of you, having been out the whole afternoon, merely to come back to the hotel and spend more time with your other friends.

Everyone decided to end the night off early; early being a bit before midnight, with you heading to your room afterwards. Your brother and his best friend shared the room taking place next to yours, making it easy to reach out to him.

And for that, you were grateful since Nicholas was with him; meaning you got to see more of him throughout this trip.

You’ve had a crush on Nicholas for god knows how long, with it starting the moment your brother befriended him. You’ve technically gone through all the phases he experienced, hell, you saw him more than your own parents.

He was sweet, a little too sweet, perhaps it bothered you. Nicholas was very known among women, he knew how to attract a lady, showering her with praises until he eventually got what he wanted.

That made you extremely jealous, knowing you couldn't have him. He was forbidden, off-limits, someone you could only admire from afar.

And that stupid crush of yours led to this conversation, one you didn't want to discuss.

You: i didnt mean to send that to you

The text switched from delivered to read right away, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

nic: clearly

nic: i dont have a gf btw

Why did he feel the need to clarify that, and why were you relieved over hearing it?

You buried your face in your pillow, feeling heat reduce from your body. You’ve never been this embarrassed before, not around Nicholas. While you were weird sometimes, it was never this bad.

He wasn't supposed to know about this, nor discover it the way he did.

You: cover your eyes pls

You: this wasn't for u

nic: you sure?

nic: are there any other nics in your life?

Your stomach twisted at the message, hand coming up to cover your mouth as an audible gasp escaped your throat. How could he say that?

You felt all sorts of emotions wash over you, unable to process each one of them as you read the message over and over again.

You: what if there is

The question was risky, it could either end with him telling your brother, or him teasing you over it and brushing it off. Either way, you couldn't have him, so why not just fuck it and go with the flow?

nic: then that would be disappointing.

Your breath caught in your throat, vision going blurry as Nicholas’ bubble kept appearing and disappearing.

nic: id really hate that you feel this way about someone else

Oh my god, were you dreaming?

You could not believe your eyes. You turned off your phone, letting the dimness of the room seep through for a moment before you unlocked your device once again, heart skipping a beat when you realized it was real.

Nicholas, your brother’s best friend, might have been flirting with you, but that’s just in your head, right…?

You: ??? wdym

nic: you first

nic: was this about me, doll?

The pet name made you weak to your core, spiraling you over the edge as you put your phone down for a second. You took a deep breath, feeling your face heat up at how suggestive the boy sounded.

He sounded so desperate, you weren't sure if it was the tiredness, or him being genuine. Either way, you’re fucked, because you’re willing to do anything for him, even if it means breaking your heart.

You: what if it was

You: what will you do ab it

You felt nauseous as you waited for a response, groaning when the boy disappeared for a minute. Did you say something wrong? Why did he suddenly leave?

nic: then id risk it all

Speechless. Your mouth hung open, chest filling with lust as a breath heaved out of you.

You: are you saying this because you’re tired

nic: no

nic: god no

There was no ounce of self control in your body left. You almost screamed, overwhelmed by a new sense of emotions.

Is this how it felt? Because fucking hell.

You: it is

nic: it is what?

You: this is so embarrassing

You: why are you making me admit it you know exactly what im talking about

nic: baby

nic: jus tell me

You: no you suck im going to sleep

nic: WAIT no come here youre so cute

You blushed at the message, unable to suppress the smile forming on your lips. God, he’s such an idiot. And you were totally swooned for him.

You: i literally just sent you a message talking ab how much i wanna suck your dick what about that is cute

nic: oh? so you do admit it

You: …

You felt nervous, realizing how serious this has gotten. From a silly message turned into you contemplating whether this was a good idea. The last thing you were anticipating while typing that message was a confrontation, one from Nicholas; at that.

nic: you couldve told me yk

You: do you hear yourself

nic: ? what

You: nic you know this is wrong

You: youre gonna wake up tmr and forget all ab it

nic: you knkw

nic: yoirw so fucjinf hot

You came to a halt, noticing the amount of mistakes the boy was making. Your mind wandered somewhere else, feeling heat crawl past your neck, all the way to your face.

You: what are you saying

nic: fucking hell

nic: take the hint baby

You froze in your spot, tongue coming out to wet your lips, suddenly feeling heat travel to in between your legs. Don’t give in, don't give in, don’t give in.

You: what

nic: you couldve asked me if you were curious

nic: i wouldve happily showed you

That sent you over the edge. Your mind went fuzzy, unable to process the last few texts you received from Nicholas. He was being serious, dead serious, you were sure of that.

The texts you exchanged always revolved around your brother; usually Nicholas asking whether he was home or not. However, this one was different.

He was hinting something, something very risky that you were unable to resist.

You: dont say that

nic: what, you don't believe me?

You: nic

nic: give me five

You stared at the message on the screen, confused on what he meant. Your eyebrows furrowed with puzzlement, awaiting a message, merely to get nothing in return.

As you were about to shut your phone and go to sleep, it pinged, the notification startling you awake. You clicked on it immediately, mind going hazy as you read the message over and over again.

nic: open the door

nic: im outside your room

You didn’t hesitate as you got up, swiftly walking your way to the door. You unlocked it with haste, vision going blurry as you caught sight of Nicholas, who was standing inches away from you now.

He looked just as desperate as you were, maybe even more. And that was it, it was all you needed to pull him by the collar and cease the distance between you two.

The moment his lips collided with yours, you realized that maybe it’s worth ending up with a broken heart, because Nicholas tastes fucking addicting, and you found every way to make good use out of that obsession.

The possession of knowing he’s off limits, yet here he was, eagerly kissing you numb.

#nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez x y/n #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez x you #charlie mayhew #grotesquerie #father charlie mayhew

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miniwheat77 · 3 months ago

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Can’t hide. (141 x Reader.)

!NSFW, smut, sex pollen, 141 hunting reader, p in v sex, gang bang, you know the drill no minors!

“You ready for this?” Captain Price raises a fist up to you. “Born ready cap.” You smile. Bumping the side of your fist into his.

“Nothing to it anymore. Clean sweep, be back by lunch time.” You smile.

Those were your famous last words, before all hell broke loose.

It started out normal.

Infil went excellent. Quick and easy. Nik found a good spot for the Helicopter to land, left without a problem. He wouldn’t be too far away when Captain Price called on him.

Sneaking in was easy too, everyone laid low and stayed quiet. Eliminating every single threat on the small base was also just as simple, it seemed like nothing could go wrong. Until something went wrong.

Gaz was the first to come across it. The massive underground bunker full of huge vats. Full of a mysterious liquid. Vials upon vials, syringes full. It seemed endless. Nobody knew what the mysterious liquid was until you stumbled upon the paperwork for it. And than. It was go time. The five of you worked for a couple hours destroying every bit of it, each of you even having fun with it.

Until Soap tripped over a notebook and stumbled into a large pool of it, he catches himself with the edge.

But not before his hand dips into the liquid.

It burns immediately. It absorbs into his skin almost instantly and his body soaks it up like a vitamin. “Shit.” He gasps. “That can’t be good.” Captain Price laughs. Just after he finishes speaking, they hear Gaz let out a hiss. “Shit- it soaked through my boots!”

“Well that’s really not good.” They laugh. “Let me get Nik on exfil, Laswell will know what to do.” He mumbles.

He doesn’t announce it, but it’s soaked through his boots as well.

That leaves Ghost and you who haven’t been infected and he wants to keep it that way.

“Nik, we’re ready for exfil.”

“I’m worried about these storm clouds Captain.” Nik calls back through the radio. “Shit… bloody fucking…” he hesitates before speaking into the radio back to Nik. “ETA?”

“Maybe tomorrow morning if it’s clear Captain, I can get someone to come in with a vehicle.”

He sighs. “It’s alright, we’ll wait it out.”

He walks back into the bunker, Gaz and Johnny have shed a couple layers, a sheen of sweat glistens off of them. The drug is starting to set in. It wouldn’t be long now. “I got myself with a Syringe, Price.” Ghost mumbles. “Bloody hell. Who isn’t infected now?”

“Just Y/N, sir.”

He sighs.

“Did we destroy all of the paperwork?” He asks. “Yes sir.”

He groans. You’re fucked. Royally fucked.

“Well. Suppose we wait it out and see what happens because I have no clue. Nik can’t get here until morning becaus-“ a loud burst of thunder hits and cuts him off.

“Of that.” He sighs.

He paces for a few minutes, doing the old man things that he usually does, but as the minutes tick by, everyone gets more antsy.

“Let’s go find somewhere else to stay, it’s cold and dangerous down here.” He mumbles. His own heart is pounding in his chest. The five of you make your way back out of the bunker, walking through the mud and pouring rain to get inside the building completely. You split off and look for a good spot to stay for the night but the only thing anyone finds is a conference room.

Everyone picks a chair around the table, and it’s a waiting game after that.

You’re off in another world daydreaming, not paying too much attention to anything. Thinking about the hot shower you’ll take when you finally get out of here. It’ll be so nice, washing away the blood and dirt.

You don’t see the 4 stand up, gravitating toward a specific corner. You don’t see them conspiring.

You’re not expecting it when Soap grabs a hold of you. Holding you much tighter than he normally would for any reason at all. It pulls you out of your thoughts and that’s when you see that there’s something wrong. The four of them surround you. “W-woah!” You mumble, trying to tug your arm away from Soap. He doesn’t budge. “Let go Johnny- what’s wrong?” You ask, eyes darting around the room. You’re only met with hungering eyes. None of them make a move to stop him.

Before you know it, they’re lifting you up, the four of them slamming you down on the large oak conference table, a hiss leaving your lips when your back hits it. Only then do you see your Captain coming at you, Syringe in hand. “Woah! Hey wait! You don’t have to do this! What’s going on?”

“It’s a sex drug sweetheart. And we’re all infected.” He chuckles. His voice is far darker than before.

The syringe stabbing you in the arm has you hissing out, teeth clenched. He presses the back of it, injecting the liquid into you. “You now too.” He smirks. His gaze is dark as he looks at you. The four of them looming over you like a storm. Gaz reaches for your waistband and that’s when you know this is about to get serious. They’re like a pack of hungry wolves ready to tear you to shreds.

“Fuck.. smell so good.” Johnny groans. You get a good grip on the table and slam your heel into Gaz’s chest, making a mental note to apologize to him when all of this is over. You force yourself back, rolling off of the table and making a break for it.

You bust through the metal door at a full sprint and don’t look back for even a second. The rain is coming down fast and it’s hard to run through the mud but you manage. The dense forest around the compound will shield you from them, or so you hope.

Branches of pine needles and leaves slap past you as you sprint, your heart pounds in your chest but you know what awaits you if you stop.

“It’s alright!” You hear them yelling out to you. Clearly coming after you. “You can run but you can’t hide!”

The deep roar of Simon’s voice has chills rising up your spine. The drug is working its way through your veins now. You had to create as much distance as possible from them. You notice a stream and decide to take another way. Walking into it to conceal your footprints and using it for a while. It feels like you’ve been walking for miles when you finally step out of the freezing water. You’re sure there’s no way they’ll find you, so you settle down between some bushes.

You lay low and quiet. You’re freezing cold and it’s hard to hide but you manage it. The rain never lets up, and you never hear anything else, settling down to try to warm yourself up before you died from hypothermia. You have nothing, having taken all of your gear off in the conference room you had found. Bad move.

You wait. Shivering with cold feet covered in mud. When this was all over you were going to take the hottest shower you’ve ever had.

Once again, your mind fucks you.

You’re off in space somewhere when arms wrap around you. His deep laugh has you squirming. “You’re not getting away this time sweetheart.” He laughs.

It’s Ghost. You slam the back of your head into him, bloodying his nose. He’s dizzy from the hit, he lets you go and you take off again. This time there’s four sets of footsteps chasing after you, right on your heels. Like something out of a horror movie. Your lungs burn and your legs ache but you don’t make it far, a hand on your ankle has you colliding with the forest floor. You cry out when whoever had tackled you moves on top of you. They’ve got you pinned. You’re thankful that it’s just pine needles under you now, much nicer than the mud.

Your shirt is soaked and stuck to you.

You’re horny from the stupid drug and you know you can’t keep yourself away from them any longer. You’re still panting as they stare down at you. “Fine. You caught me.” You breathe.

They laugh. “Nice little game of cat and mouse, lass. Now it’s time to pay up.” Soap chuckles. He grasps the hem of your pants, fighting them off of you since you’re soaked to the bone. You roll your eyes at him. “You’re nothing but a bunch of pervs.” You roll your eyes. “Before, you were fighting us. Don’t see you fighting me now.” He chuckles. He’s right, you’re not fighting him. The ache you feel in your belly is begging for relief. “If I’m such a perv, tell me to stop.” He looks down at you. The moonlight illuminates him just enough. You can see his hand gripping his throbbing cock. He’s got himself lined up with your entrance. Legs pushed apart. The others have let go. Seeing you’re not putting up a fight anymore.

You shake your head.

“Do it.” You grit your teeth. He laughs. Pushing himself into your dripping hole. You take in a sharp breath, whining out. Hearing him chuckle at how pathetic you are. Captain Price raises your shirt up, thumb brushing over your nipple. You reach up and grasp his hand. You guide it down to your clit, hearing him scoff, shaking his head with a smirk. “Looks like the drugs working on you too. Little slut..” he laughs.

“Not gonna work, I like when you’re mean to me.” You look up at him, smile playing at your lips. He rolls his eyes, laughing when your eyes screw shut as he starts drawing circles into your clit as Johnny fucks you. “Such a bad girl. Ran away for nothing but fun hm? You like the chase sweetheart?” He chuckles. You wanted him to shut up, so you grasp his exposed cock. Hearing him sigh. “Shit…” he mumbles. He’s hard and throbbing. His body begs for some kind of release.

The primal need they feel to have a pussy on their cocks. It’s unbearable.

Soap is like a wild animal as he fucks you. Groaning out as he fucks you like a madman. Captain Price doesn’t stop circling your clit and it leaves you a writhing mess. Ghost looms over you, pumping his cock with his hand. They’re so pathetic and desperate, you feel bad almost. You look back at him, through your eyelashes. Eyes locking with his. It sends sparks shooting through him. The look you have, it’s nothing but filthy. You lick your lips and he knows immediately what you’re implying. He wastes no time scooting further toward you and you part your lips as he lines his dick up with them. They part as he slides into your mouth, nearly crying out as you take him down your throat. “Oh fuck…” he whines. You toy with the tip, tonguing it as he nearly cries from being deprived. They’re all so pathetic. “Come here, Kyle.” You draw away from Ghost for just a second to wave Kyle over to your free hand. He all but scrambles to you. The attention you’re giving them is more than they’ve had in months. “Oh fuck..” he whines. Your hands wrapped around them, it’s nearly too much. You take Ghost back into your mouth, your captains fingertips still dancing across your clit. Ghosts hand moves to pinch and toy with your right nipple, Gaz takes the hint and does the same to your other. You mewl at the stimulation. Feeling more at once than you’ve ever felt, but you can’t help but want more. You give them a few minutes before you fight against them. They worry you’ll run again but you prop yourself up onto your hands and knees, pushing Johnny down and climbing on top of him.

He’s surprised for a second. You move over him, sliding back down onto him. He gasps out. You grasp your captains hand and guide him behind you. “Oh shit..” he mumbles again. Realizing what it is you want. He spits into his hand, gliding it up his cock. Lining up with your ass. He teases your hole with his tip, getting you slick enough to handle him. When he slides into you and both of your holes are filled, you’re almost satisfied. You need just a little more.

Ghost stands over Johnny, cock lining back up with your lips and you take him into your mouth.

Johnny’s hands find your nipples as he fucks himself up into your pussy. You whine out, hand reaching out for Kyle’s dick once more. You wiggle your right hand free, gliding it down the front of you, finding your own clit. And finally, it’s enough.

You’re shaking after just seconds of being stimulated. To the point it’s almost too much. “Ah fuck- gonna cum.” Soap hisses.

You draw away from Ghost and the words leave your lips before you can stop them. “Cum in me- fill me up.” You gasp.

The drug doesn’t make him think twice before he’s filling your pussy. Crying out and bucking his hips until he’s too overstimulated to think straight, drawing away from you. He switches places with Gaz.

He steps away, obviously trying to clean himself up. The clarity is there now in his brain, the realization of everything going on is becoming clearer.

The other three still remain, all desperate to feel your walls clamping around them. Gaz has nestled himself beneath you, surprised when you move right up to him, raising yourself up with your knees and lowering yourself onto his cock. You’re close, you just need that final push to reach an orgasm. He starts thrusting up into you, once against feeling that same intense pleasure as before. He cups your breasts and your breath hitches in your throat. The knot is building, getting bigger and bigger.

“Oh f-fuck!” Captain Price gasps, hips stuttering as he reaches his high. He fills you up, wrapping his arms around your front and burying himself inside of you. He’s panting. Relaxing for just a second. Feeling the way your body lurches as Gaz thrusts up into you. Captain Price regains his composure and stands up. Taking a deep breath as he creates some distance. Ghost is quick to take his place. Your knees are tired from the hard ground.

Ghost lines his fat cock up with your ass, sliding into you. Filling you to the hilt with his big cock. You whine out, nails digging into his arms. He takes a deep breath. Lips right by your ear. “Deep breaths doll.” His voice is deep, sending chills up your spine. He pulls you flush to his chest, his shirt is wet and cold against you. His cargo pants are too, the only warmth you feel from him is his cock pulled through the zipper hole. He glides his hand over your chest and stomach, trailing it down your front to your nub, rubbing circles against it. Your breaths get more ragged and unsteady, a sob is clawing its way out of your throat. You’re shivering from the cold, the rain has never subsided. Your hair is completely soaked, Ghost moves it onto one shoulder so that he can leave kisses against it.

You clutch Gaz tight, his hand entwined with yours as he thrusts into you.

“Agh, I’m so close!” You cry.

“Me too…” Gaz breathes.

Rocking your hips into him, meeting his thrusts. He’s not going to last. He hisses, his pretty white teeth showing in the moonlight. You lean down, letting your head rest forward as they ravage you. “Ah- gonna… gonna- ugh!” Gaz moans out, hips jerking up into you as he fills you, not stopping for even a second as he rides out his high. He finally stops when he’s overstimulated and Ghost draws himself out of you. Lifting you off of Gaz. Gaz stands up, and moves to join the others in the building. You’re nearly fucked out, so close to being on the edge but just short each time. You’re desperate at this point.

“Hold on.” Ghost hesitates. He tugs his soaking shirt off, fighting with it for a second. He uses it to clean off his shaft.

“What are you doing?” You ask. “I.. I didn’t want to give you an infection or anything. Don’t worry about it.” He mumbles. When he’s gotten himself completely wiped off, he lifts you up onto him. “They’re so selfish aren’t they? Leaving before you’ve even cum.” He’s got a grip on your hips, guiding you down his shaft. You whine out. You’re fucked out but still want to cum so bad. It feels like your heart is going to beat out of your chest any minute, you want it so much. “How about you cum with me hm?” He breathes. “Deep breaths darling, hold onto me.” He pants. His grip on you is tight.

He keeps a steady pace. You’re right on the edge again.

“Cum with me.” He breathes. “Show me what you can do darling, go on.”

You bury your head into the crook of his neck, crying out as you finally reach your peak. It washes over you like a tidal wave, shaking against him. He grits his teeth and whines as he reaches his own high, filling your pussy.

He rides out your highs, raising you up onto him by your hips. You’re nearly sobbing when he lowers you from him for just a second. “Fuck…” you whine. “Here, it’s cold but it’s all I got. Put it on.” Ghost passes you his soaked jacket from earlier. It is cold but it covers you. He lifts you up, beginning the hike back to the building.

———

“You all look exhausted.” Nik notes as everyone climbs into the chopper.

You exchange glances, resting your hand over your neck. There’s been a number of love bites left there the night before. You pretend like you’re rubbing your neck. Hiding your pink cheeks. “Uh.. yeah. It’s been a long night.” Captain Price avoids his gaze. “Ready to be back at base.” He laughs.

Nik notes the extremely quiet and awkward ride back to base. Ghost sitting a tad bit closer to you than normal.

“Does it hurt?” You mumble to Ghost. “What do you mean?” He asks. “You said you poked yourself with a syringe and got infected yesterday, does it hurt?” You ask again. “What syring- oh.. oh uh… yeah. No it doesn’t hurt.” He mumbles. “Where was it again?” You ask. “Oh uh. It was somewhere on my hands but the needle was so small so you can’t see it.” He lies.

You don’t catch the lie that he’s so clearly hiding.

His dirty little secret.

#call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #captain john price #mw2 smut #price mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost smut #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #captain johnathan price #price x you #cod price

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envy-of-the-apple · 6 months ago

Text

Rewound Infinitely

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Part one: Infinite Rewind

Synopsis: A decade later, Gojo has finally caught up with you. Weddings take a lot of planning.

Word Count: 8.6k

(Warnings: flashbacks to gore, not healthy trauma coping, thats all tho! pretty wholesome compared to last time)

Some things about him had changed within a decade, while others stayed the same.

Even taller than you last saw him. His hair has been styled, no longer ivory chaos. You can't see a single blemish or mark despite the decade of fighting curses. He's as flawless as the first day you met him. No glasses; the entirety of his blue keeps you still.

You've seen this Satoru before: Suguru's memories, with glassy eyes, ruffled ivory hair, and an empty expression. Seeing such beauty yourself when you're standing right in front of him, it's breathtaking.

Even the lights of Tokyo couldn't compare to him.

You say nothing. You can't. Your mouth is dry and pointless. You're not even sure where to even begin. In front of a God, your insecurities pile up all over again. Is he disappointed by you? How could you explain everything that you put him through? Your mouth opens, you think you're about to speak: an apology, a plea, anything-

"—You're late!"

His hands reach up to squish your cheeks together. It was so unexpected, you squeak.

And Gojo Satoru is pouting.

It's a wave. The ocean of anxiety, guilt, and fear crashes into the shore. You feel nothing but indignant rage at the brat who clearly hadn't matured one damn bit.

"I'm not late!" You hiss back. "If anything, you're the one who's late. I was—"

You're cut off by his laugh, light and happy.

He isn't offended by your outburst; he's overjoyed about it. His cheeks are dabbed with pink, and his lips are so wide that he's showing his teeth. Your anger wanes when he pulls you into his chest, arms circling around you. You can smell his cologne when he buries his face into your hair.

"There you are. Finally." He melts into you like butter. "I missed you, Greeny."

His voice is soft, quiet, and sincere. You can't do anything but hug him back, allowing him to sink.

"I missed you, too." You whisper.

He hums. Apart from the wind, it's quiet. He's clinging onto you as though he's afraid once he lets go, you'll disappear forever. His behavior is justified. You were constantly meddling with his life before whisking away. Just this once, you allow him to keep you within his reach, letting the cat catch the canary.

"This is sweet 'n all. But we're actually getting late." He mutters. "Also, we gotta do something about your clothes."

"Hm?"

One moment, you're atop the Tokyo Skybridge; the next, you're standing in an upscale boutique.

Satoru skips away from you. Meanwhile, you're frozen, brain scrambling to catch up with what happened. Teleport. He can teleport now.

"Mr. Gojo, sir." A voice calls. An older woman smiles at him.

He gives her a casual wave before gesturing over to you. "Mind giving this one a dress? It's a black-tie event. We don't have a budget."

The woman turns to you with a smile. "Of course, sir."

What?

Dazed, you pliantly follow the woman into the back of the boutique. Her hold on you is gentle as she ushers you through the hall with one hand on either side of your shoulders. When you look back, Satoru is waving with a wide grin. The door shuts behind you.

"Do you have any preferences?"

You turn back to the woman. She's still smiling. You can't tell if it's genuine or customer service. Perhaps both.

Did Satoru not like what you're wearing? When you look down, it makes sense. Your time on the tower wasn't kind to your hair, not to mention your clothes. This morning, you'd just thrown on the first thing you saw.

This morning. That felt like centuries ago.

She's still waiting. You give a trepid smile.

"Anything," you say, "anything as long as it's cheap. I'm not exactly swimming in cash."

She gives a confused look. "Oh, but Mr. Gojo is paying, isn't he?"

Was he? You had no idea what was happening, much less what he had just said. She returns to her usual smile.

"If you have nothing in mind, let's see here..."

Some time later, your usual clothing was removed and replaced by something satin and long. It was a pretty dress that fell right to your feet. A set of women also flitted in and worked on your hair and face, putting everything back in your face so that you looked more human and less cryptid.

"What do you think?" She asks, looking at you through that mirror.

Pretty, you looked pretty. But when you looked closer, no amount of make-up could remove that look in your eyes.

When you step back out, Satoru is waiting with a tapping foot.

"Finally!" He exclaims, standing up. He doesn't acknowledge the dress, probably because he's seen himself in better. "Thanks, Hana. Okay, let's go."

"Go?" You prod. "Go where? You—you still haven't told me what you're even doing—"

It's no use. He grabs your hand, instantly warping you away from the boutique.

You're outside. There's people everywhere. In the distance, you can see a crystal glass dome. The sun was still in the sky, which was strange because you remembered watching a sunset not too long ago, unless you weren't in Japan anymore. To prove it to yourself, you check your phone location. Yakima, Washington. What the fuck.

Was this some type of torture, him flitting you from continent to continent, all in a ploy to punish you for something? You give him a pleading look.

"Just tell me what's going on—"

"Nuh-uh." He grins. "It's a surprise! Besides, you'll figure it out soon enough. Now, I gotta' go. Stay here, be good, and find the panda!"

And then he's gone.

You always knew he was insane, but this is ridiculous, even for him. To leave you in the middle of nowhere, that asshole.

There is no one you recognize in the crowd, but they are all walking towards the dome, so you meekly follow. What did he say? Find the panda? It had to be a metaphor of some kind, or perhaps there was a panda statue you needed to wait under.

And then you see a panda on two legs walking and talking with a group of teenagers.

Seriously, what else did you expect?

Feeling like you've just aged five years, you approach the group. Including the animal, there's five. They all look like 14-16 years old. You feel like you're in high school all over again when they glance over at you. The girl looks particularly unimpressed.

"Hi." You look at the panda. Maybe it's a really good costume because no one else looks shocked. "Satoru said I should find you...?"

One of them seems to get the code. The one with black hair and puppy eyes perks up.

"Ah! Are you 'Greeny'?" Did he tell everyone about that nickname? Didn't you tell him it was supposed to be a secret? Though, it doesn't really matter anymore.

"It's not my actual name." You say before introducing yourself.

He gives a nod. "Okkutso Yuta." He bows. What a polite kid. "This is my friend, Inumaki Toge."

The kid with half his face under his scarf gives a wave. You smile.

"Just Maki." The girl steps in before she gives you a once-over. "I like your dress."

"Oh, thank you!" You say happily, "I love yours as well!"

She looks away, but you have a feeling she has a hard time taking compliments.

"I'm Panda." The panda fucking says, and no, it isn't a costume, but you're too tired to ask at this point. "Nice to finally meet you."

When the final kid says nothing, Panda reaches over and wraps a furry hand around his shoulder.

"And this is Fushiguro Megumi! He's shy." Panda says cheerily. The boy flusters under his weight.

"Get off." Fushiguro gripes.

"Don't mind him." Maki rolls her eyes. "He's just throwing a tantrum because his sister couldn't make it, and he's gonna have to socialize with people instead of hiding behind her."

Fushiguro glares, but he doesn't respond to that. He just gives you a nod, and you decide these are good kids. At the very least, they're all way better than that brat Satoru.

"So, why are we waiting out here?" You ask, peering around.

"The doors haven't opened, yet," Okkutso kindly relays, "we're just waiting out here until everything is set up."

"If they're taking this long, then they should at least ask for help." Maki crosses her arms. "We've been waiting out here for at least thirty minutes."

"At least there's food." Panda tries to assuage.

"Salmon," says Inumaki.

"They're serving salmon out here?" You give him an incredulous look and he waves his arms around.

"Bonito flakes." Inumaki says. Okkutso tries to come to his rescue.

"Inumaki can't speak anything but food items because of his curse-" Maki quickly yanks him down by his collar frantically. Fushiguro is whispering something in his ear. You watch them go back and forth before it clicks.

"Does it have something to do with his technique?" You ask, curiously.

They stop squabbling.

"Oh, our bad. Sorry 'bout that." Panda gives a sheepish grin. "We didn't think you'd know about jujutsu sorcery 'cause...well. Your cursed energy is really low."

"Super low." Maki agrees.

"Salmon."

"Even lower than Maki's." That earns Panda a punch from her.

"Thank you," you dryly say, before you turn back to the building.

"What's going on in that place anyway?"

They all give you an odd look before they look at each other. Did you say something wrong?

"Did Gojo-sensei not tell you anything?" Okkotsu asks.

You allow yourself to leak some bitterness. "Satoru just dropped me on the sidewalk before teleporting away. He never tells me anything.

"That sounds like him." Panda nods.

"Idiot," Maki says.

"Such an idiot," Fushiguro says, and now you feel bad for Satoru.

"Our sensei's getting married today." Okkutso supplies. He points at the dome.

You don't get why you didn't realize it sooner. You knew these kids, at least Okkutso, Maki, Panda, and Inumaki. They all showed up on the very last day Geto Suguru died. Okkutso, in particular, had fought and defeated Suguru.

These were Gojo Satoru's students.

You think back to the last time you saw Satoru. He didn't look like a groom, but he's an eccentric guy. You wondered what kind of person would put up with him for the rest of their lives. You pitied them.

"Oh." You frown. "His wedding? I—I would have at least brought a gift."

"I don't think he'd mind," Panda said, "besides, you didn't even know!"

You still felt a bit guilty.

"We didn't bring anything either," Fushiguro states, and it helps just a tiny bit.

"When the ceremony begins, you can sit with us," Okkutso tells you, "we're supposed to keep an eye on you, anyway."

"You're not talking to a dog." Maki grunts.

"Oh no I—I didn't mean to be offensive!" Okkutso backtracks. "It's just—well, Gojo-sensei's been talking about you for a while, and we want to make sure everything goes smoothly and we were all really excited to meet you so—"

He keeps rambling like that until Inumaki pats his shoulder. You laugh, amused.

"I wasn't offended or anything." You tell him before his words sink in. "Wait, Satoru talks about me?"

"All the time." Maki responds, an edge to her voice. "'Greeny this', 'Greeny that'."

"We usually tune him out when he gets like that," Panda says, "honestly, we didn't even think you were real until just now."

"I always thought 'Greeny' was an inside joke Gojo-sensei and Haibara-sensei had," Okkotsu admits.

Something warm bubbles in your stomach.

"So," Fushiguro speaks, "how do you know Gojo, anyway?"

You didn't know the story Gojo told them so you simply keep it vague.

"I knew him as a kid."

It's Panda who gets the most excited about this.

"Really? What was he like as a teenager?"

"A brat." You instantly respond, and then you think a little more. "But I don't think that ever changed."

They ask you a couple more questions about Gojo's high school days. You oblige, thinking this as payback for how Satoru dropped you here without saying anything. You don't know how long you spend out there, airing out Gojo's younger days while his students get increasingly giggly.

Okkotsu is the one who notices the crowd is moving.

"I think they opened the doors." He smiles. "Let's go, everyone."

You follow behind Maki, admiring the architecture. It's a grand building. Sparkling crystal glass lets the sunlight bleed in. The decoration was something else entirely. Small white flowers adorn the chandelier, and they cascade down the edges. Ice sculptures of angels greeted the guests. Live music was already playing. Satoru knows how to plan a wedding.

Maki finds you all seats. You sit next to her. Fushiguro follows you. Okkutso, Inumaki, and Panda take the seats behind you. While you wait for the guests to settle down, you pass your time, waiting for the students to bicker with one another. From your assumption, it looked as though Maki, Panda, and occasionally Inumaki butted heads with each other. Okkutso often served as the timid referee, trying to get everyone to calm down, which almost always made things worse. Fushiguro just elected to ignore everything.

"Are they always like this?" You lean over to whisper to him. Fushiguro gives a tired nod.

"Every. Single. Day." He's saying this from experience, but at least you get a show.

Everyone settles down eventually. The kids grow quiet when the music starts to swell. The indoor lights dim. It's starting.

You've never been to a wedding this grand before. There was a live orchestra. Women and men were dressed in baby blue, gently strumming away their cellos, violins, and violas.

It's how you miss Satoru's entrance. He's already standing on the altar by the time you look back. He's changed into something more formal. The suit and green tie fit him. A perfectly put-together beauty. As though he can sense your stare, he catches your eye and winks.

But why was he already up there? Shouldn't he be—

"Sensei's coming!" Okkotsu whisper-yells. Inumaki hushes him.

Everyone turns to face the door. You do, too.

Your heart stops when you see him.

It's all there. Black hair, but it's longer this time around. Of course it is, he's had years to grow it out. He's tall, he must've grown since highschool.

You don't think you're breathing when you watch him walk down the aisle. The music is low, barely loud enough to hide the click of his heels. He takes his rightful place beside Satoru, his best man. Satoru gives him a nudge, and Suguru shakes his head fondly.

Everyone turns to see Shoko's entrance. You should too, but you keep staring at him. How much he's changed since high school. How much he's changed since he waltzed onstage wearing a priest's outfit, filled with nothing but empty hatred for those he viewed as weak.

But he's not wearing that twisted monk costume. His eyes aren't dull and dead and bitter. There's no sickly faux smile on his lips.

Today, Suguru looks like the happiest man on Earth.

His eyes are wide and eager and sparkling purple beauties. He's 27, but he looks younger. The lines of exhaustion and heartbreak aren't so prominent. And you—and you—

You just sit there, watching as Shoko walks up to the altar, watching as they stand as bride and groom. His daughters, adorned in pretty blue dresses, stand right behind him, smiling so hard you're sure it hurts. The priest speaks. They say their vows. You can't hear a single word. It's like you're behind a glass wall, and you can see him, but you can't feel him.

When they kiss, everything comes back. The crowd celebrates. Satoru ruffles Himeno's hair. Nanako smiles wider. Behind you, Inumaki and Panda sniffles. Okkotsu hands them a tissue.

"It’s pretty." Maki comments. Fushiguro gives a hum of agreement.

ⴵ

Satoru finds you and the kids when you're waiting for the reception to start.

He appears behind you with a cheery, "And how are my lovely students holding up?" You almost spill your drink in shock.

"Sensei!" Okkotsu chirps. "Where's Geto-sensei and Ieiri-sensei?"

"Shoko's around; Suguru's taking a break," Gojo answers with a grin. "If you don't mind me, I'll be stealing this one for a sec."

He doesn't wait for an answer, steering you away by your shoulders. You look behind you. Panda waves. Fushiguro just looks even more upset. You wave back at them regardless.

"I can't believe you put your students out on babysitting duty." You tell him. "And what's with this wedding? There's no alcohol anywhere." To make your point, you take another sip of your apple juice.

"We have kids here. Kinda' have to make it alcohol-free," Satoru says.

"The bartender could ID them." You suggest.

"You think teens who fight curses daily wouldn't figure out how to get around that?" He grins. You frown at his frustratingly good response.

“What’d you think of them?”

“Hm?”

“The kids.” He urges. “What’d you think?”

Your brows scrunch. You have no idea what he means by that. Eventually, you take a breath.

“I like how...close they are.” You eventually say. “The bond they share. They care. I think each one of them will be good sorcerers.”

He’s silent, and you think you might have misunderstood his question.

“I learned that from you,” Satoru says, “keeping them together, making sure they can grow, get stronger, together. You were always so insistent on that, back then. I’m glad you were. It was one of the best things about you.”

You stare at him. Really stare. You’ve never heard him sound so genuine, so sincere before. You look into his crystal-blue eyes, wide and earnest. Part of you wants to take a picture, so you could keep it forever.

Eventually, Gojo successfully drags you to a less crowded area of the party. He looks around.

"Hm, he should be around here somewhere...?" Satoru hums to himself.

"Who?" You ask. That question answers itself.

Haibara Yu is waiting a little ways ahead. By now, the sun was starting to set. His brown hair turned gold. Gojo eagerly hurries you forward as he calls out to him. You stumble, still lost at what you're seeing.

"Guess who I brought?" Gojo sweetly sings, Yu-Haibara, he hasn't let you call him Yu yet-tilts his head.

He smiles, confused. "Oh? Hello!" He says cheerily. "Who's this?" He asks to Gojo.

"Guess," Gojo says.

Haibara stares at you, and you decide to give him a hint.

"Brocolli head?"

He gapes. It's almost the same reaction he had last time. Last time, when you had to convince him to kill you so you could go back in time to save Satoru.

"No way." He gasps. "Greeny?"

He doesn't remember. He wouldn't, why would he? Still, it's nice to see the innocence on his face, rather than the pain you saw last time. Right before he snapped your neck.

You think he was crying the last time you two saw each other.

In this timeline, Haibara is hugging you so tightly you think your head's about to explode.

"It's really you?" Haibara says, but his bear hug muffles his words. "“—I—I can’t believe it? It’s actually you! I thought I’d never see you again even though Satoru said we'd see you again one day, and—and then suddenly you pop up outta’ nowhere—not that I’m complaining— but—”

"Haibara." You plead. "You're suffocating me."

"Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry." He lets you go, and your lungs inflate again. "I—I'm just so happy! And—and you're a girl!" He says it like it's the most surprising thing about this whole revelation. Maybe it is.

Satoru is always needy for attention and whines as always.

"Wait, you two came up with a code word?" He complains. "That's not fair. We never did that."

"I mean, it was Haibara's idea." You point out. "You should be smarter next time."

That makes him frown even more. You laugh.

"Yu." Haibara suddenly says.

You turn to him.

"My friends call me Yu."

It's nice to know that no matter what timeline you're in, Yu will always remain stagnant.

"Okay, lover boy," Gojo says with a not-so playful bite, "keep your eye on this one for me, okay? Gotta' go do more best man shit."

Satoru's gone once again. You look at Yu.

"He's been running around since I got here." You tell him. "Does that man ever rest?"

"Nope." Haibara grins, before taking your arm. "Follow me; you should meet a couple of people."

He leads you through the crowd. You spot the teens moping about out of the corner of your eye. Panda and Inumaki seem to be in a push-up competition. Maki is egging them on. You wisely decide not to disturb them.

Yu drops your hand to wave to someone. There's no need for any kind of introduction for these people.

Riko and Misato Kuroi smile at you first. Miss Kuroi's aged beautifully since you last saw her. Wispy silver hair knitted seamlessly into brown strands. She never got that chance to grow gray hairs last time. You're staring so much it might be rude.

"Yu?" Riko asks and you think you're about to break because they know each other. "Who's this?"

"Uh, this-" Haibara chokes before looking at your awkwardly. Right, he doesn't know your actual name.

Come to think of it, Satoru doesn't know either. He never bothered to ask too. Probably on purpose. Ass.

You smile and politely introduce yourself. It takes everything within you not to scream and hug them both because in this timeline, they don't know you. They never did.

But you can change that now.

"Hello!" Riko beams. "I'm Kuroi Riko, but just Riko is fine! And this is my mom: Kuroi Misato."

She says that so plainly, like that had always been her name, like Miss Kuroi had always been her mother. You wonder how long it took for those two realities to become her norm. Or maybe it hardly took time at all.

"It's wonderful to meet you." Miss Kuroi states before she tilts her head. "May I ask how you know the couple?"

Haibara jumps in for you. "Um—actually, this is Satoru's date!" He fumbles.

You do a double-take. No, you technically weren't Satoru's date. But you technically entered the wedding with him. And he was the one who 'invited' you. Fuck, you were the brat's date. Damn it.

"Ah." Nanami cuts in for the first time. "So, you're the one Gojo won't shut up about."

His accusation sounds like Maki's, but less harsh. You wonder if he has a favorite student.

Nanami looks the most different from his high school counterpart. A new haircut, less slouchy, more tall and refined. He blinks at you, slow and calculating.

Sheepishly, you laugh. "Yeah...that's me....sorry."

"Don't be rude, Kento."

Ieiri arrives with a soft smile and painted features. She's changed out of her glowing gown, sticking to something small yet perfectly elegant: a short white dress that curls ever so slightly at the ends. Riko's the first to hug her, ecstatic. Ieiri hugs her back, too, because they've become friends in this timeline. The circles under her eyes are less prominent. Her smile looks more real. This isn't the timeline where she's had to bury her friend; it's the timeline she's allowed to marry him.

"Congratulations," you say politely once everyone is done cooing over her. She smiles at you, the way a stranger would.

Then, her head tilts.

"Sorry," she hesitates, "do we know each other? You...feel familiar somehow."

Ieiri was the first person you met when you activated your technique and returned to the past for the first time. She was the one who calmed you down, kept you grounded. In a way, you owed a lot to her.

Looking at her, you can see why Suguru kept her cigarettes in his pocket.

You shrug. "I must have one of those faces."

The attention turns back to her, her beautiful dress, pure and white and beautiful. You feel Haibara stare at you. You shake your head at him. It wasn't the time. Maybe it never will be.

"This really is a beautiful wedding," Mistato says when the conversation reaches a pleasant lull, "I can't imagine how much it cost."

She shrugged.

"Probably a fortune, but I let Satoru deal with the numbers."

Misato looks confused, and Ieiri laughs.

"He paid for everything." She gestures to the venue. "Suguru and I didn't have to fork over a single cent. It's the least he could do for being a pain in the ass for 12 years."

Damn, you knew he was rich, but you didn't know he was rich rich. Maybe you should consider being nicer to him. If you ask politely, perhaps you could get him to pay off your car loans.

"I'll get him to pay for my wedding too." Riko proudly says.

"He'd probably do it, too." Ieiri nodded along. "He offered, just like that. The only thing he was hellbent on was the date."

"The date?" You echo. Ieiri shrugs, messing with her laced sleeves.

"Said it absolutely needed to be on December 24th. Something about spirituality. I never listened to that guy's rants."

It comes to you immediately, but you're pushing it away. No way. Satoru wouldn't. There isn't a chance in Hell he would have convinced his friends to have the biggest day of their lives on the same day you were supposed to meet him.

No, of course, he would do that. Ass.

"So, how do you know Satoru?" Riko asks you. When she realized how rude it sounded, she backtracked. "I—I didn't mean anything by it! It's just...the guy only knows five people. When he spoke about bringing someone along, I thought he was joking."

"Same here," Nanami says. Haibara stifles a laugh, and you realize all of Satoru's friends think he's a loser.

Friends. Back then, he only had one of those.

"Um." You toss Haibara look. He shrugs. "We met a few years ago! But we just recently reconnected." That's close enough to the truth. Good enough.

You remember your blunder. You sympathetically look at Shoko.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't able to bring a gift," you say, "I was blindsided. Satoru barely gave me enough time to get ready."

You laugh, and you're hoping they laugh it off too. They don't, instead Shoko, Nanami, Riko, and Misato look at you. Then, they look at each other.

Nanami speaks first. He clears his throat.

"Did Satoru....abduct you?"

"What?"

"That sounds like him." Misato sighs, more exasperated than anything else.

Riko nods along with her. "We tried to teach him. Where did we go wrong?" she laments.

Haibara and Shoko laugh as you desperately try to defend your not-date date because he didn't actually kidnap you, but he did bring you here against your will and started dragging you along like some toy, but it's the context about that that matters. You wished they could've had a bit more faith in him. Poor Satoru.

It ends eventually. Ieiri excuses herself. Riko and Misato go too. You stay with Yu and Nanami, watching as they get into increasingly petty arguments. It’s hilarious how quickly Yu is able to bring the usually staunch and serious Nanami down to his level.

Sometime later, you find yourself roaming the balcony. The party roars on indoors, laughing, talking, cheering. It was chilly outside, you should go back in within a few minutes. You just needed a break from the action.

The sun had already gone down, by then. You were somewhere out in the country. The buildings sparsely dotted the horizon. There were no artificial lights. It meant the stars could shine as brightly as they wanted to, with no one to stop them.

You hadn’t seen Satoru in a while. You had no idea where he’d run off to. It didn’t matter; you knew he’d eventually pop out of a box to harass you again.

But now that you had space for yourself, you needed to think.

You rest your hands over the rail, looking up at the stars. There were so many out tonight.

You fixed the future. You changed everything. Does that mean you still needed to tell Satoru about the past timeline?

You promised him answers the next time you two met. You promised him an explanation. He waited ten years for that. You pinch at the fabric of the dress.

This future that you carefully built, crafted with your own hands. It’s delicate, a glass castle.

It’s justice, but did that make it right?

“Want one?”

The voice makes you jump.

He stares at you, leaning against the rail. Purple eyes, mirroring the starry sky.

You knew these eyes, for a while, they used to be yours.

You stare at him. Then, you stare at the cigarette in his inviting fingers.

Your fingers twitch.

“No—no, I’m fine.” You smile. “Actually, I’m trying to quit.”

“Ah.” Suguru says, lighting it up before bringing it to his lips. “Shouldn’t tempt you, then. Pardon, what’s your name?”

You can hear your heartbeat. It’s loud, right in your ear. You wonder if he can hear it too. Are his curses around? Can they smell it? Your blood? Are they still as ravenous as the last time, eager to tear and fester and eat—

“It’s Greeny,” you say, “you can call me Greeny. ”

He hums in approval.

“Geto Suguru,” he says, “though I’m pretty sure you already know that.” You both share a huff of laughter.

“My fiancé quit a few years ago.” Suguru starts, mentioning the cherry-red cigarette. “Thought I’d follow in her footsteps, but here I am.” He shrugs before he winces.

“Wife, sorry.” He corrects. “I still can’t believe it.”

The monsters come out to play their song. You close your eyes, forgive Suguru, and you die once more.

You smile at his tone. He sounded like that 12 years ago, when he was still just a kid. Full of soft wonder.

“I’m guessing you’ve been planning this for a long time?” You ask.

He shrugs. “Shoko did most of the work. This is all thanks to her, really. Unfortunately, I was too busy managing the school.”

“I heard you were a principal?” You prod.

Suguru nods, “Our current one recently retired. I’m trying to follow in his footsteps.”

You think of Principal Yaga, the one with sunglasses and a stern expression. He looks a lot like Nanami in some areas. But he acts more like Suguru than anyone you ever knew.

And you knew Suguru; you knew him as well as yourself.

The screams start up again, and you forgive Suguru.

“I can tell you’re already making him proud,” you say, “I met your students. They’re good kids.”

He smiles, soft, gentle. Those used to be your smiles.

“They are, aren’t they?” He repeats back, “some of them had a rough beginning, but it all worked out somehow.” He hums. “I’m glad.”

His daughters, the ones standing beside him as he kissed his wife, wide eyes and even wider grins. They didn’t have the darkness in their faces. The bitterness. Like they did in the last timeline.

You were glad, too.

This death is a lot more painful than the others.

The curse that's holding you is more intelligent than its predecessors. It keeps you alive, tearing at your skin, feasting on your flesh. Blood is everywhere. You scream until it rips out your vocal cords. It's almost a mercy to just die.

You forgive Suguru.

“It sounds like you’ve had personal experience with that sort of thing.” When he looks at you, you quickly say. “Your eyes. I—I can see it. I’ve always been good at that sort of thing.” You knew Suguru. His eyes matched yours.

He doesn’t look offended. Suguru takes a minute, reaching up to his black locks. He removes the elastic, pretty black hair falls down his shoulders He’s grown it out since high school. It reaches his waist.

He eases himself back onto the rail, looking up at the stars. You follow.

“Yeah, I do,” he’s saying, “I think I know what it’s like being them at that age. Alone, isolated, slipping down a rock. Drowning, but no one can see it.” Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised.

“When I was younger...it was really hard. Some days, I was so full of hate and anger. The pain was a lot. Sometimes, I had this despicable idea that it was someone else’s fault I was like this. Someone innocent.” He laughs, bitter.

“And, on those days, I would often feel something.”

You look at him. Suguru doesn’t stare back, eyes lost in the stars.

“Sometimes, it’d be a voice. Other times a small nudge on my shoulders, pushing me in the right direction. Once, it was a hug, keeping me from doing something that would’ve changed my life forever. And it would be just a bit more bearable, like I wasn’t so alone.”

You can feel your heart in your throat. Your fingers grip the railing.

“What did you think it was?” You expect hate, disgust. You want to give yourself a reason.

You forgive Suguru.

He takes a moment, coming back from heaven. His eyes find yours.

“I’m not sure.” He admits. “I’m not religious, but I always liked to think of it as—”

An angel. A hand of God. A higher power. It doesn’t matter what Suguru said, you knew what he meant.

A part of you always wondered why Suguru would return to Jujutsu society, when he wanted nothing more than to run from it. You expected him to retire. Instead, he took the reins of the beast, wrangling it down. Now, you get why.

“That’s why you’re a teacher now,” you say, “so you could be the same thing for your students.”

He nods, and you think of Maki. You think of Okkutso. You think of Panda. You think of Fushiguro. You think of Inumaki. Suguru must have been there for Maki, even when her own family wasn’t. Suguru must have helped Okkutso control his technique, being the only one who could. Suguru, must have made these kids better than they ever possibly could’ve been. Fighting for them instead of against them.

“Sorry.” He blinks. “I—I didn’t mean to get so sentimental. It’s been years since I thought about my own highschool years.” He laughs, voice full.

“You’re just...really nice to talk to.” He hums. “I don’t think I can explain it but it’s...familiar somehow.”

You look at him. He’s older, but in some ways, he hasn’t really changed. Even now, when you look at him, you see a reflection of yourself.

“I can see why he likes you.”

“Who?” You ask when he brings you back from your thoughts.

“The idiot.” But he says it so affectionately, so lovingly, you can’t help but smile. “I saw him dragging you around earlier. Sorry about that. I would’ve stepped in but...” He trails off, thinking.

“It’s been a while since I saw him like that.”

You hadn’t noticed anything about Satoru. He smiled just as brightly as he did in highschool. Now, you wonder if this was the first time in a while Suguru had seen that side of him: carefree, no longer The Strongest.

It hurts. It hurts so much. Blood seeps into the pavement. You can hear the curse laughing. It sounds like him.

You forgive Suguru.

“Are you and him…” he trails off.

“No.” You laugh. “No, I’m his….childhood friend. We just haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“Oh?” He tilts his head. “How long has it been?”

You decide to be honest. “Ten or so years, give or take?”

He whistles.

“No wonder he’s bouncing around like a yipping puppy,” He says, and you can’t help but agree with the analogy.

“In any case.” He leans over the railing. His cigarette is down to its last embers. “I hope you stick around. A friend…I think he needs more of those more than anything.”

You stare at him. Those purple eyes. You can see what Shoko sees. You can see what Satoru saw all those timelines ago. They only ever saw the light, the gentleness, of Geto Suguru.

You are the only person in the world who knows him.

He’s killed people. He’s killed you. No matter how much logic or justification or pain was involved, the blood of the innocent is still sticky. It still drips across the pavement, scarring the sidewalk in red. It still hurts.

When Suguru would kill you, you’d force yourself to forgive him. You needed to die without regrets, because the pain of hatred builds up, you’ve seen it happen firsthand.

But now that you’re free, what Suguru did to you wasn't fair. Just because his innocence was taken away doesn’t give him the right to take the lives of others. It never gives anyone the right to murder. You keep telling yourself that this Suguru and that Suguru were different…but they weren’t. Not really. The look in their eyes matched perfectly.

He’d do it again, in the right conditions.

And yet.

You forgive Suguru.

You can’t judge him. If there is a God, maybe Suguru will have to pay for the crimes he committed all those timelines ago. You can’t save Suguru from that. But to you, the debt is paid.

Besides, you’re too tired to hate him. And you won’t allow yourself to fall into the same cycle he struggled to break free from.

You look into his eyes. Then, at his ring. You smile.

And that's enough.

“I will,” you say, “I will.”

Then, as two parts of a whole, the two of you stare at the stars for a little while longer.

ⴵ

The reception was nice. A fancy dinner, you can’t remember the last time you ate something. The speeches were beautiful, especially Shoko’s. You swore you saw Nanami shed a tear, but you never said anything about it.

You saw a glimpse of white hair in the crowd before the first dance began. Stunning music. The couple must have practiced for months. Bride and Groom, husband and wife, held hands and looked at each other like they were the only ones in the room.

Megumi stood beside you, watching Ieiri and Geto sway to the music. As though the kid could sense him, Megumi’s serene face sours. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when there’s a tap on your shoulder.

“Cute, huh?” Satoru starts, mentioning at the dance. “It didn’t look this put-together in the beginning. Shoko gave him a ton of bruises,” he says with a shit-eating grin.

You frown. “Shouldn’t you be doing something else than gossiping about your friends?”

“I am! I’m checking up on my son!” And then he turns to Fushiguru. “Megumi!”

“No.” Fushiguro instantly rebukes.

“Don’t mind him.” Satoru chides. “He’s going through an angst phase.” Fushiguro rolls his eyes, but he shifts just a tiny bit.

“Y’know, he was actually supposed to be the flower boy, but he refused. Such a shame, the pictures would’ve been something else.” Gojo sighed and now you’re convinced they aren’t father and son.

“That was never going to happen.” Fushiguro says, and as if he thinks you’re naive enough to believe Satoru, he glances at you. “Never.”

“Of course not.” You crack a smile.

You watch as Ieiri descends into a graceful spin, Geto taking the lead. When he tips her over, your eyes soften.

Gojo leans over; you can feel his breath in your ear.

“Next year.” He whispers. “For us, it’ll definetly be next year.”

You jerk away but he’s already skipping off, having the audacity to call out a cheerful ‘toodles’.

“What did he say?” Fushiguro questions.

That’s what you wanted to know, too, but you were so tired, and the night was so long, and you couldn’t bother to get out your Gojo translator and figure it out.

“The same stuff he always says. Nonsense.” You decide on. Fushiguro takes the answer.

“I don’t understand how he has all that energy.” You mutter, watching Satoru disappear through the crowd.

“I thought he’d get better with age, turns out I was wrong,” Fushiguro says.

“I wanted to ask,” you start, your eyes still on Ieiri and Geto, “how do you know Gojo? Aren’t you still in middle school?”

“Everyone knows Gojo. He’s pretty famous in the jujutsu world.” Fushiguro shrugs. “But personally...he’s my benefactor. Took me and my sister in when my parents left.”

You look at him. And you feel like an idiot.

He’s the spitting image of his father. Sharp cobalt eyes. Black hair. Fushiguro Toji is all over the young man.

Gojo Satoru, the one who killed the sorcerer killer, took care of his enemy’s children.

“What?” Fushiguro asks when you’re smiling

You shake your head. “No, no it’s nothing.”

Satoru told you that you’re the one who taught him about the importance of bonds. But you think he should take some of the credit too.

ⴵ

Eventually, everyone gets on the dancefloor.

It’s a mess. Absolute chaos. Panda and Inumaki are trying and failing to do the waltz. Maki and Okkuttso are lightly swaying to the music. They’ve managed to get Fushiguro up there too. Though, he doesn’t look extremely happy.

The adults are even worse. Apparently, the retired principal Yaga is a pretty good dancer. You think one of them found alcohol, because Haibara looks absolutely wasted. He’s swinging his arms around, almost hitting the other guests. Nanami is trying to get his attention, but the guy wants none of it. When Haibara catches your eye, he wildly waves in clear invitation.

You smile back, but you shake your head. You think he’s about to come up to you, but something else catches his eye, and he’s grinning at a very irrated-looking Iori.

You were sitting on a chair, just people-watching. It was a nice break from everything. To listen to the music, lightly tap your feet, play with the frill of your dress. You weren’t really in the mood to dance.

Besides, you weren’t technically invited here anyway. It’d be rude to just burst on the scene.

“There you are! Been looking all over for you!”

You don’t have to look over to see who it is. Satoru slumps down in a chair next to you.

“Greeny, you gotta’ do something about your cursed energy. It’s so weak. Like finding a needle in a haystack.”

“Thanks,” you say dryly.

“Always happy to help.” Satoru beams, and then he glances over at the floor.

“We’re dancing after this song, by the way.”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s so cute you think you have a choice, Greeny.”

You frown. “There’s no point in calling me Greeny anymore. Unless you still don’t know my name.”

“I do, but it doesn’t matter,” Satoru says arrogantly. “You’ll always be my Greeny to me.”

You roll your eyes. Even now, he’s a brat. You thought all these years would mellow him down just a tiny bit.

“So,” you start, “are you done with your ‘best man shit’?”

“Yup.” He announces. “Now, I can sit back and enjoy the show.”

You smile, but you can still feel the butterflies in your stomach. He’s been running around so far and it’s given you time. Now, that he’s free, it means you two have to talk.

And you aren’t sure if you truly want to.

You flex your fingers.

“Um, how have you—”

“Stop.” Satoru interrupts. “Let’s not make this awful, Greeny.”

You nod immediately, relaxing. His voice gets softer, after that.

“I’m glad you chose that color,” he says, “I was sorta’ hoping you would.”

You look down at the dress. A deep green. You hadn’t even thought about the color, the boutique lady had basically thrown it at you.

The shade of Satoru’s green tie matches your dress. You can feel your smile again. Typical.

“I’m glad I did too,” you honestly say. And then, you continue to fiddle with your fingers. Ultimately, you decide to just bite the bullet.

“I thought you’d be mad.” You finally say, words jittery and unfocused. “Angry at me for...for what I did.”

He’s silent, and you feared that it was all true. The laughs and the jabs were all a facade.

"I don’t think I was ever mad." He responds, staring into the crowd. "Hurt, yeah. Then, it faded into something that stung everytime I thought about it, and then...something else. And now, I know it's a waste to get mad because you're finally here now. With me."

His tone pitches upwards as he reaches over to painfully pinch your cheek.

"'Sides, I know you can't escape me anymore, Greeny," Satoru cheerfully says, "Now, I know your face, your name, and with little effort, I could probably find your address, your social security-"

"Okay! Okay!" You pull away, rubbing your cheek. Damn, he's scary. "Threat acknowledged."

"Good!" He straightens himself back up, and you find yourself slumping again.

“I am sorry, though,” you say, “for leaving like that. I...I always wished I could do that a bit differently. You deserved better.”

“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head. “Don’t blame yourself for only doing what you could. It eats at you, Greeny. It really does.” He sighs, leaning forward in his chair.

“You deserved better too,” he says back, voice barely above the music, “I always had some regrets about those years. I thought I could’ve done more to help you, back then.”

There it was again: selfishness, the urge to do good to others while retaining that greed. You supposed you taught him that.

You put your face in your hands.

“Even though, you dragged me here against my will, I feel so guilty being here.” You complain, hoping it’ll lighten the mood. “You should apologize to everyone because I crashed the party.”

Satoru scoffs. “What are you talking about? Everyone loves you!” He exclaims. “Look, Yu’s ecstatic. Riko won’t stop gushing about you; you even have Nanami’s approval! I don’t even have that!” You roll your eyes, sinking back in your seat.

“Besides, you needed to come. You needed to see it.”

“See what?” You ask.

“This.” He points to the venue, the ballroom full of glittery whites and sparkles.

“Look around, Greeny. Look at all the people you saved.”

Haibara and Riko are dancing together. Two dead children finally had the chance to grow up. Misato speaks to Nanami. Beautiful gray hair, eyes that aren’t so tired. Shoko sparkling in her dress, and Geto—

The same day he was supposed to die, Suguru was getting married.

“Thank you.” When you look at him, Satoru is staring right at you. His sea eyes give everything and more.

“Thank you for saving all of us.”

Your heart skips, then just stops completely. You can’t cry, you won’t not here, not on such a happy day. But your eyes are stinging. And Satoru is turning blurry.

And then, like Satoru always does, he ruins the moment.

"Did you just fall for me a little?"

His head tilts. That same mischievous, irritating smile lights up on his face.

You relax, laughing out of disbelief. When you speak, your voice is barely scratchy. "You're so full of yourself; it's actually a little cute."

"You think I'm cute?"

"Did you hear anything else that I just said?"

"I heard you think I'm cute,” Satoru responds proudly, and you doubt he’d ever let you hear the end of it.

“And besides! Today is supposed to be a celebration for you too!” He exclaims.

“Oh really?”

“Yes,” Satoru says proudly, “you did it! You became a fully-fledged sorcerer. Considering your low CE, you might pass as grade four, but when I talk to our new principal, I’m sure he’ll make things right. Get ready to join be and him in the big leagues.”

You could read between the lines. Satoru wanted to tell everyone. You think a while ago, you might have agreed, but...

“Can...Can I quit being a sorcerer?” You ask. “I’m tired.”

He takes a second. Some of you wonders if he’ll try to talk you out of this. It’s more beneficial for him if you stay as an asset to the jujutsu world. How many people’s lives will be saved by a technique like yours? To be able to go back in time again and again and again. To die again and again and again.

“Someone once told me that it’s okay to be selfish every once in a while.” Satoru looks at you, eyes like lilies once again. “I won’t fault you for it. I don’t think anyone will.”

When you try to smile, it feels wobbly.

“That person sounds smart.”

“Nah.” He grins. “An idiot, actually. Way too oblivious.”

You laugh, despite the insult.

“Quit,” Satoru says when it’s quiet again, “do whatever you want. But...you can’t run away, okay? I won’t let you.”

It’s barely a touch. His hand reaches for your fingers. You’re the one who grabs it.

“I won’t.” You promise. “I won’t.”

He’s satisfied with that. You can tell when he squeezes your hand back.

You look at him, and you decide you won't tell Satoru what happened in the last timeline.

There's no point. It wouldn't do anything but shatter everything he worked so hard to make. Why would you break the glass when you could just add concrete, make it stronger? You saved everyone. A few white lies here and there just keep this future safe.

And you know this Satoru. If you told him, he'd carry that burden with you like the soldier he was. You don't want him to do that. You don't want him to have the same look you see in your own face. One last sacrifice.

When you come back, Satoru is shifting in his seat, uncrossing his legs.

“So...about that dance?”

“Ugh, fine.” You stand up. “One dance. And if you do anything embarrassing, I’m leaving.”

“Clearly, you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” He grins, standing up himself.

He doesn’t release your hand for the rest of the night.

You don’t mind.

(When you disappear again, Maki’s the one who finds you.

By then, it’d been long into the night. Shoko and Suguru were already gone, off to their honeymoon in the Maldives. Riko, Misato, and most of the students were sleeping off the night. Maki, his most diligent student, was helping the remaining adults pack up the venue.

She’s dragging chairs away when she grunts in Satoru’ direction.

“By the way, your date’s sleeping outside.”

Ah, you were on the balcony. No wonder he couldn’t find you. Satoru needed to do something about your cursed energy. What’s the point of having six eyes when he can’t even find the one person who’s evaded him for a decade?

You’ve completely passed out. Slumped over on a chair, head bent at an angle that could not be comfortable. Satoru knows he should feel bad. He dragged you around the entire night like a ragdoll. This was partially his fault.

He can’t really blame himself, not when you were finally here.

It still feels like a dream. Being able to hear your voice, not Suguru’s, not Yu’s. Your touch. Your eyes. Your face. Your laugh. For years, he’s wondered what it sounded like.

Reality beat even his perfect daydreams.

Seeing you up there on the Tokyo Skytree. The wind pushing your hair back and forth. It was breathtaking.

Even the lights of Tokyo, couldn’t compare to you.

He leans down, lips at your ear, voice low because he’s too prideful to let anyone else hear, not even you.

“I know it’s too late, but you looked really pretty tonight.”

You say nothing, but you shift, murmur something in your sleep. It’s all he needs.

He ditches the clean up party, taking you within his arms. He thinks he says something to Yu, but Satoru doesn’t really care if he heard. Right now, he only has one priority.

Tonight, he’ll sleep on the hotel’s pull-out sofa while you snooze in the luxurious queen-sized bed. You’ll probably be mad in the morning, something about how you should’ve taken the couch, but he doesn’t mind your mindless acts of selflessness.

He’s waited a decade. He deserves to keep you.

And he knows you won’t fault him for being selfish one more time.)

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #slight yandere gojo #butnotrlly #time travel fix it #time travel #unrequited feelings #temporarily unrequited feelings #maybe #x reader #jjk fluff #just a bunch of closure rlly

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notafunkiller · 1 year ago

Text

tying you to me

Summary: When your boss, Bucky, apologizes for being rude to you once again, things take an unexpected turn.

Pairing: boss!Bucky Barnes x marketing director!female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, sir kìnk, breasts insecurity, protected séx, bøndage, a little degrading, praising kìnk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 5.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

He’s well aware he went too far. He noticed right when he finished talking and took a look at you, but what is said is said. And the last thing he wants is Steve annoying him about the meeting.

“I don’t question the way you deal with employees, do I?” Bucky snaps, tired and really wanting this day to be over.

“What has gotten into you? What bothers you so much about her? I just don’t get it.”

Bucky sighs deeply, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration. “It’s not just one thing,” he mutters, his tone weighed down by a mix of tiredness and anger. “It’s a culmination... She’s fucking impossible.”

“Bucky, I get you’re upset, but taking it out on her isn’t fair. She did an incredible job, but you didn’t even listen to her. What’s really going on here?”

“I feel like she’s not seeing the bigger picture. We disagree constantly, and it’s making things difficult. Maybe I overreacted, but it’s been building up for a while.” Bucky leans in as he speaks, with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His voice carries an edge that Steve notices immediately. He knows there is something about you that affects Bucky, but he can’t quite put the finger on it. Ever since he hired you, Bucky’s been angry with him too, which has happened only two or three times over twenty years of friendship.

“I can see this is really affecting you, Buck. If there’s something personal or if my decision to bring her on board has caused you any discomfort, talk to me. I just wanna make sure everything’s okay between us.”

He leans back a bit, surprised. “Personal? No, it’s not… it’s not about that,” he stammers, searching for the right words. There’s a subtle shake of his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss his own thoughts. He wishes there was a personal connection so badly that it messes with his head…

“Then what is it? I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. I know you hate when things are not under your control, but I made the right call to hire her. And you were really unfair to her, look,” Steve waves around as he speaks, and Bucky turns to look at you through the glass door. You’re still there… working. “She’s not just smart and creative, but also ambitious and hard working. I know how much you value this as well.”

“I didn’t mean to come off unfairly. It’s just…” Bucky sighs, moving to shift his gaze back to Steve. “Our ways clash, and it’s hard to manage it. I value her skills, but finding a middle ground seems impossible sometimes.”

“Look, Buck, I understand it’s tough, but it’s important to listen to her ideas too,” Steve responds, his voice carrying a firm yet empathetic tone. “Today? You didn’t even look over the outlines. Try giving her ideas a chance or just suggest new things without trashing all of her work. You’d be offended too.” He pauses, and Bucky’s focus is back on you. His eyes narrow slightly, studying your determined expression as you delve into whatever you are working on that he dismissed today. And for a few seconds a pang of guilt flickers across Bucky’s expression, which Steve immediately catches. He clears his throat and continues. “I understand it’s not easy to step back and apologize, but it’s not about who’s right or wrong. And, to be honest, you were wrong anyway. It’s about ensuring a healthy workplace.”

“I appreciate your perspective, Steve,” he begins with a calm voice. “But I don’t think it would make a difference.” His gaze briefly flickers towards you before returning to Steve.

“Trust me, it’ll make a difference, not just for her but also for the team. Give it a shot.” Steve smiles, patting him on the chest before standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. It’s so late.”

“Alright, lovebird, off to your nest?” Bucky teases. “Natasha’s waiting for her captain. Better not keep her waiting too long.”

Steve chuckles. “Well, someone’s got to keep the romance alive around here. Good night.”

“Night...”

The audacity of this man is unbelievable. After all that shit he pulled on you today, he has the nerve to order your food! He’s the reason why you’re still working at eight pm instead of lying on your couch.

You are so close to crying out of exhaustion and anger, but you won’t give him this satisfaction. And you won’t eat his food.

“Are you seriously gonna starve yourself?”

“I’m not hungry,” you retort, your voice sharper than intended as you give him an annoyed look.

Bucky’s expression softens instantly, a hint of concern flickering across his face. “Come on, you’ve been working the whole day” he insists, trying to reason with you. “You need to eat something. Did you even drink water?”

You shake your head weakly.

“Look, I-”

“If you don’t like Pizza, I can grab you something else.”

You raise your hand, waving around. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I get home.”

The idea of accepting anything from him like this feels wrong. You don’t want his pity.

“Stubborn as ever,” he sighs, muttering under his breath, and you look up to meet his gaze. For a moment, there’s a silent understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension lingering from earlier.

What did Steve tell him to make him actually try to have a decent conversation?

“Look, sir,” you say through your teeth. “I don’t want your pity. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll manage. I just need to finish this.”

“This isn’t about pity.” His tone is firm. “You’re exhausted, and I’m just trying to help.”

“I said I’m fine. I’ll be done with these.” You lift your papers to emphasize. “And get home.”

“You’re not fine!” he shoots, surprising you. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”

You’ve never seen him screaming before. Even when he is angry, he’s always the silent type.

“Don’t you dare!” you fire back all of a sudden, unable to hold back. If you’ll get fired, at least you should speak your mind properly. You can’t take more of this. He can’t step on you without consequences. “You are the reason why I am here anyway. Don’t play the concerned hero, just take your food and eat it...” You pause for a second before sarcastically adding. “Sir.”

“This isn’t just about the food, is it?” Bucky’s voice softens slightly despite his impulse to raise his voice again. “It’s about the meeting.” You keep looking him in the eyes, not denying the obvious. Of course it’s about the meeting. “Look, I am sorry, I know I should have handled things differently, but I’m trying to make it right.”

“You think a wannabe apology and food make everything okay?” You ask bitterly, standing up. “You humiliated me, Mr. Barnes. You didn’t even hear me out, you didn’t even listen to my ideas, what the team and I managed to do in the last few months. You disrespected them too! And I don’t get it...” You hate how tall he is. How perfectly his suit is ironed. How nice his hair is. Fuck him! “Ever since Steve hired me, you refused to communicate with me. It’s like you have decided who I am and what I’m worth without even giving me a chance, without acknowledging my efforts and results!”

“That’s not true,” he begins, trying to defend himself even though you both know you are right. “I made a mistake, I admit it, but I want to fix it.”

“A mistake?” You laugh humorlessly. “For months you’ve been treating me like shit, excuse my language.” You shake your head. “Actually I don’t. You should be the one apologizing! You look at me as if I am a scum, as if my presence bothers you. I come to you only when I have to, and you act as if I want to waste your time. Well, I wasted mine for months in this company. With you!”

Bucky snaps, feeling the frustration taking over him. “My decisions are based on what’s best for the company. It’s nothing pers-”

“That’s just a bullshit excuse to maintain the status quo!” you interrupt him, the tension escalating. You don’t care about this job anymore. Whatever will happen, let it happen. “You’re a stuck-up asshole, resistant to change and blind to new perspectives! My perspectives only, to be clear.” You see him clenching his jaw before his left hand covers his jaw. Oh, he’s angry. Good! “And it’s not even out of misogyny since you get along just fine with Shuri. So what is it? What is it, Mr. Barnes, that makes you hate me?”

“It’s not about you,” he insists, his voice strained with the effort to keep calm. “It’s about maintaining stability. It’s about-”

“Bullshit! You’re threatened by anything that challenges your authority! You’re just frustrated and insecure. You’re scared that someone else can do better things in their own way. You’re just a tyrant! I don’t know how Steve is friends with you. He’s such a great man, and you’re a dick.” You laugh. “God, I wanted to tell you this for so long. And if it’s not clear, I fucking quit!”

You’d smile widely if it wasn’t for his snort.

“You’re not quitting,” Bucky’s voice is low, but you still hear it.

He doesn’t believe you, clearly. But he will because you’re not joking or backing off. You can’t take another humiliation session, especially when you did nothing to deserve it. As much as you admire Bucky’s intelligence and company policies, he’s a fucking douchebag. To you.

“Watch me,” you retort instantly. Your heart starts racing as he takes another step toward you. He’s so close that you only need to get on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“No, you’re not quitting. And you’re not walking out that door until we settle this.”

“Settle what, Barnes? Your ego?” You try to maintain your composure, but the closeness makes it hard for you to focus.

He sighs, and your eyes find his lips again. They are pink and wet from his tongue. If only he was less of an asshole and not your boss, maybe you would...

“This isn’t just about me and my authority.”

“Then what is it?” You're confused.

“It’s about you challenging everything I’ve built here,” he admits, looking straight into your eyes.

“And you can’t handle that?” Your voice is filled with sarcasm, but for once he doesn’t focus on that.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple, Mr. Barnes.”

“I... I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Deal with this... with you.”

“Deal with me?” You puff. “You’re insufferable, I am the one who has to deal with you and your constant checkups. With your: that’s not good enough, that needs to be changed, do this, do that over and over again.” You mimic his patronizing tone. “You don’t give me real suggestions-”

“I just... struggle with change.”

“And I’m the change you can’t handle?” The question hangs heavy between you, and his eyes drop to your lips this time.

“You challenge me,” he admits, his voice barely above the whisper. “You and your crazy ambition, your undying dedication, and your incredible ideas...” He pauses just to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m suffocating every time I look at you.”

“Suffocating?” You roll your eyes. “How am I suffocating you? Just because I have an opinion and give you arguments-”

“I am fucking attracted to you, woman!”

You shake your head. He cannot just pull this lie and expect you to fall for it as if you are dumb. “Yeah, sure. Can you be a man for once and fucking take responsibility for your real thoughts and feelings? Just admit that you hate me!”

“Jesus Christ, are you that blind? For a woman so perceptive, you surely don’t see what’s right in front of you.”

You feel the anger take over your whole body. “Fuck you!”

“I wish! This is the whole point, the whole fucking point...”

“You want to fuck me for real?” You gasp, surprised and take a step back so you can look at him properly. He doesn’t seem to be joking.

“Deadly serious. And no matter how many times I tried to push this desire away, it just doesn’t work. You suffocate me. I imagine taking you all over my desk and couch. I imagine so many things, and I cannot focus.”

Before you can stop yourself, you slap him on the face lightly. Your palm is itching and gets red instantly, but you don’t care. As much as the info makes you happy, the context makes you super angry.

“So my team and I had to be humiliated just because you’re mad you want to get laid?”

“W-what? No!”

“No?”

“No. I deserved that,” he says referring to the slap. “But I meant what I said earlier. These are separate things.”

You cover your face with both your hands, not knowing what to say. What can you say? What should you think?

“I am sorry,” he sighs, and you hear him slowly walking away from you. “I should have said nothing. I am sorry. Please, don’t quit. You won’t have to work with me or even see me after this. Steve can take over, and you like him. I apologize not only for this, but also for my lack of… skills. I should have been more open to your ideas. And about tonight, I will wait for the HR email. I am sorry once again.”

Your head is spinning with all the things he’s just said. He wants you, but he’s also a bitch who cannot handle other opinions.

But you also want him. And you’ve wanted him despite how annoying he was. And he’s genuinely apologizing.

“Fuck it,” you whisper before going straight to him, pulling him by his tie toward you to kiss him.

He doesn’t hesitate at all, bringing his hands to your ass so you can feel each other better as he deepens the kiss instantly.

You shamelessly try to thrust your hips up a little as you let go of his tie, and his tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. His moan is low and hot, but you don’t let him breathe more than a second before you kiss him again, making sure to grab his hair and pull with force.

“Fuck me, Barnes. Fuck me right fucking now.”

He groans in your mouth once again, and you shiver.

“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fuck you so well you won’t remember or think about anything else but my cock for days.” You instantly drop your hands so you can reach for his pants. Unbuckling them isn’t hard, but the zipper gets a little stuck, so Bucky has to finish the job for you.

“God, James,” you moan at the sight. “You’re leaking.”

He’s not embarrassed by this at all. On the opposite, he grabs his briefs too and pulls them down, letting them fall along with his pants.

You’re staring, but you can’t help it. His cock is so hard, and it even twitches as he grabs it to show it to you. It’s so thick.

“For you. This is all for you.”

Without waiting for a response, he suddenly grabs your shirt by the front placket and rips it in two. The buttons fly everywhere, one almost hits him in the face, but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He’s so hot!

“Oh god, James,” you whisper, unclasping your bra before he can destroy it. It’s your best one, and you still need it.

“Yes,” he groans at the sight of your breasts, but you cannot ignore the wave of self-doubt that takes over you. They’re a little bigger than they should be for your height, so the sight is not the prettiest, in your opinion. This has always been an insecurity of yours, and even more after your last boyfriend made sure to emphasize this before you broke up. But Bucky seems fascinated. With his eyes glued to them and his mouth semi-open, he leans in, bringing his hands to both of your breasts before cupping them. You get goosebumps as he folds them eagerly, and you hear him groan when they spill over as soon as he tries to pull them together.

“James!”

But it’s like he can’t hear you, too engrossed in watching your nipples hardening even more, and before you tell him what you wanted to, you feel his wet mouth sucking in one of your nipples.

You’re taken aback, so he uses his gloved hand to make you stop moving by placing it on your waist firmly.

He’s suckling at this point, making low whimpers as he’s looking at you.

You swear you never saw a more beautiful man in your whole life. His blue eyes are hypnotic.

“F-fuck,” you curse, bringing your fingers to his hair. You need to grab something before you fall.

He switches to the other nipple, and you feel yourself throbbing. You need his cock so much. You need his mouth... you need him to make you come. And you want to do the same to him. He’s driving you crazy.

“F-fuck me! RIGHT NOW.” You’re screaming, but he’s not surprised, rather amused as he takes his mouth off your breasts with a pop.

“Easy there, you sound quite desperate,” he giggles as if he’s just made the funniest joke ever. You are desperate.

“Fuck me or I’ll finish myself off, and you won’t be able to touch me as I do. Your choice.”

You know he doesn’t like or do ultimata, but you have no alternative. You crave to be taken on his desk as hard as he can go.

“How can I fuck you if you still have your pants on?” He asks you extremely calmly, and you’re shocked. You expected a more... intense reaction. “Earth to you?” He waves his hand when he sees you zoning out.

“You didn’t take them off.”

“I don’t take your clothes off, love.” He smirks. “I rip them, so if you want them intact, you better do it yourself.”

You nod, enjoying how raspy his voice is, and take them off without looking away from his cock. Not that he could stop staring at your breasts. His eyes are glued to your nipples. Your underwear falls, and only when you step out of the pool of clothes and finally free your legs from the high heels, he brings his hand to your pussy.

“Oh God, look at this… drenched!”

You moan, moving a little into his palm as if you’re trying to ride it. You need him so badly.

“James-”

“I know.” He smiles, spreading your lips more. “I know. So needy, my poor baby needs her cock so she can relax.”

You whimper loudly as you close your eyes. “Take me, sir. Make me your little fuck toy. Take out your frustrations. You can... you can show me how I was wrong for quitting by fucking me until I feel your cock every time I walk. I need to,” you moan again as you keep grinding onto his hand. “Come on! Show me!”

Bucky’s eyes get so grey as he suddenly pulls his hand away, making you whine. You’re about to curse him, but what he does makes you stop. He starts to take off his tie quickly, and you smile.

“Good boy.”

That remark makes his snort, and he cryptically replies:

“Ah, ah, we’ll see about that later.”

“Take off that shirt faster, and your glove, too.”

That surprises him, his eyes immediately widening, so you decide to do it yourself since he’s not fast enough.

He freezes as soon as you pull off his glove, revealing a black with golden accents prosthetic hand.

“This is so fucking pretty, oh my God! Why do you keep this hidden?” You turn his hand around, and you gasp, realizing what you’ve just said. “I am sorry if I seem insensitive, it’s just that...”

Bucky snorts, amused, not hurt, which makes you feel like you can breathe again. The last thing you wanted was to bother him.

“You got a kink for my arm now?”

“You talk too much,” you murmur at the same time you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. Your hands are trembling.

When he’s finally naked, you let out a whimper, instantly reaching to touch his chest with both of your hands.

“You shave,” you say, surprised.

“Come on, love.” He smiles. “Touch my arm while you still can.”

You don’t question what he means by that, not wanting to worry too much. You expected this to be a one-time thing anyway, so you better enjoy every second of it. The arm is seamlessly integrated into his shoulder, and it's colder than the rest of his skin.

You trace a gold pattern all the way from his shoulder to his hand.

“I have a kink now,” you giggle when you see the sides of his neck getting pink.

“Well, I hope you have this kink, too, because…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reaches for the tie he had on today and smiles. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“W-what?”

“Hands behind your back.”

“You want to tie my hands?” You ask, taken aback by his demand.

“Did you try it before? Do you hate it?”

No, you didn’t try, but it doesn’t sound bad, surprisingly.

You usually hate not being in control, but it’s Bucky, and as annoying as he might be as your boss, you trust him. Plus, you quit after all, you should enjoy this as much as possible. The thought of him tying you up is really sexy for some reason, so you simply turn around and bring your hands together above your ass.

He doesn’t hesitate and quickly makes a knot.

“Too tight?”

“No,” you whisper. It’s not tight at all.

“You can tell me to stop any time, okay?” He wraps his hands around your waist and turns you toward him. “I’ll stop immediately.”

You nod, trying to get used to not being able to raise your hands.

“Words, please.”

“Yes, James.”

“Good girl.”

You’d lie if you said it doesn’t turn you on like crazy. You’ve been indirectly fighting with him for so long without getting any kind of approval or praise for your work. He made you angry and stressed more times than you could count, but you still respected him. You wanted his approval and you craved him...

You got yourself off thinking about him, you imagined choking him out of anger, but then it turning into a completely different thing. And it feels surreal this is actually happening, and he finally calls you a good girl.

“Are you clean? Anything-”

“I always used a condom, and I do checkups every six months. I assume the same about you.”

You nod, not bothering to tell him you don’t remember the last time you had sex, all thanks to him and his impossible to please ass.

“Do you have a condom?” You ask, moving closer to him again.

“In the car,” he curses, but before you can tell him that you can try without one since you are on the pill, he speaks again. “Wait!”

You giggle as you watch him run out of the office with his ass wiggling. No way he goes to his car naked, right?

You jump on top of his desk, pushing a few docs on the floor with your knee. It’s quite difficult because your hands are tied, but you don’t mind. You wait excitedly for his return just to tease him, but you’re speechless as soon as you see him unwrapping the condom package with his teeth before he quickly rolls it on.

“Won’t the neighbor mind?”

“What he doesn’t know,” he grabs your legs as he speaks. “Won’t hurt him. You’re not gonna run your mouth now, are you?” There is something about his patronizing tone that makes you hornier. Maybe because you know you’ve been on his mind so much he couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Why? You want to keep my mouth occupied with your cock?”

You don’t expect to be turned around on the table instead, with your ass in the air. Holy fuck!

“How about I keep this pretty wet pussy of yours occupied, hmm?”

You close your eyes when you feel his cock at your entrance before he finally pushes in.

He’s crazy, he must be crazy if he thinks you can take all of his cock like this.

“B-Bucky!” You arch your back without realizing, fighting against the material of his tie so you can get free. The impulse to touch his back is absolutely overwhelming, and the coldness of his left hand drives you crazy.

“What happened?” His other hand goes up until it’s in your hair. “You got nothing else to say? Are you already cock drunk?”

“More!” you whimper. “I can take more of you, please.”

“Ah? So greedy for my cock.”

“Need it deeper, James. Need you to move faster.”

You don’t care how desperate your voice is or if you’re pathetic. “I just wanna be stretched open until I cry. P-please.”

You don’t realize he is holding his breath until you hear him exhaling loudly against your back before kissing the same spot.

“You wanna be fucked like you’re my good little toy, baby? You want-”

He stops speaking when you moan, trying to move your hands so you can touch him and push him deeper inside you by grabbing his ass.

That hot ass…

“Want you, sir. Please, make me a mess.”

And he does. He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but try again to touch him.

“Just like that,” you cry out when your face hits the desk more forcefully than before. You can sense Bucky’s hesitation so you shake your head. “I’m fine, I’m... k-keep going.”

He doesn’t stop, he even goes faster yet somehow deeper than before, a combination you’re not used to, that makes you feel like he’s splitting you in half. Neither of you can properly talk anymore. You can hear him cursing and saying your name along with: your pussy’s drowning me, so wet, think you can t-take it harder, but there is a long break after every word so he can thrust back inside you. You can’t even call him James, your voice is so hoarse, and he’s so deep you cannot even breathe.

You don’t need anything more the second he pulls your hair harder than you’d ever expect. Before you know what’s happening, the pleasure explodes inside you, making you scream. You don’t even realize that’s your voice at first, too focused on trying to prolong this feeling as you push your ass back frustrated you cannot grab his thighs, while he keeps thrusting inside you. His balls hit your clit, and you moan, a little sensitive.

“Sir, please, c-come,” you whisper, turning your head to the side on the desk. “Come for your little fuck toy. U-use me.”

You flinch, shocked, when you feel a light slap on your ass all of a sudden, but it doesn’t hurt at all. Quite the opposite. You don’t have time to say something about it, though, because Bucky’s already burying himself inside you again as deep as he can, and you moan at the same time he does.

“J-James...”

He pulls your hair even harder while he comes, groaning your name and a low fuck, that almost makes you giggle.

“Jesus...” It’s the only warning you get before you feel his chest on your back.

“Barnes, you’re heavy!”

His laugh is adorable, but he’s indeed heavy, plus you also have your hands tied. When he finally moves, you hop off the desk, almost falling since your knees are weak. Now you can feel your thighs aching too. But it was all worth it.

Quickly, Bucky unties you, without saying a word, which only makes you more nervous.

“Thanks,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. Then, you watch him take off the condom and place it on top of one of the papers you knocked over with your knee earlier.

After wiping his hands on his thighs, he grabs your wrists gently, making you almost moan at the feel of his cold hand. You’re not hurt, but they’re quite red, probably from the times you tried to get free.

“Gonna buy some cream.”

You shake your head. “No need, I am sure I have something for this.” You try to sound as casual as you can, not wanting to be clingy in his eyes even after you quit. Even after this. “Can you hand me my underwear and pants, please?”

Bucky freezes for a second, but he still gives them to you. “Are you back to hating me?”

“What?” You ask as you start to get dressed. You don’t have the blouse, but your coat is warm. You won’t freeze.

“Why are you so cold now? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything wrong?” His concerned voice and look surprise you. You know he is nice, but you didn’t expect him to be attentive after.

“No, you didn’t. I assumed this is,” you wave around when you finish zipping up your pants. “Just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”

He doesn’t laugh.

“I told you, you’ve been on my mind for so long. Why would I... and even if it was just a one-time thing, why would I treat you like trash? Especially since we work together.”

“Worked,” you correct him before he hands you his shirt. You raise your eyebrow surprised.

“I’m not gonna help you get dressed, Barnes. You’re a big boy.”

“Put it on, it’s freezing.”

“I have my coat,” you protest, but he won’t take no for an answer, and you know it.

“On.”

“Fine!”

He helps you with it since your hands are, for some reason, still shaking. “Look, I was gonna invite you over to my place, but if I make you feel uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to see me...”

You can’t help but raise your eyebrows.

“Really?”

“We have some things to discuss, and I have a bath to run for you.”

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as he finishes buttoning the shirt. “You want me to sign a contract to fuck you again?”

“Ha, ha. No.” He leans in a bit to kiss your forehead. “We have many things to talk about that don’t involve a contract.”

“Yeah? Like what?” You start to collect the documents from the floor. “The process of writing my resignation letter?”

You hear Bucky puff behind you. “You’re not quitting.”

“No?” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Who’s gonna stop me?”

“Me.”

“Hmm,” you whisper playfully before placing his papers on the desk. “How?”

“Let’s get home and we’ll see about that.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #boss!bucky barnes #boss!bucky #ceo!bucky barnes #ceo!bucky #rich!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #sebastian stan #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year ago

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[It’s considered good etiquette to ask a man about his wife’s wellbeing. Except if the man in question is Dracule Mihawk.]

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Garp hates having to call Mihawk, mainly because of the warlord's attitude. Used to the usual "yes, sir!" of the Marines, a man with his own will and agenda is not something he entirely knows how to navigate. Especially since both of them know that the World Government needs the warlords more than they need the bureaucracy. And that doesn't exactly help in exercising power.

His attempts at diplomacy have burst into flames each time and today isn't going to be much different:

"How’s the missus?" Garp asks in the nicest tone he can force although he's aware that Mihawk knows how much the vice admiral hates asking for Dracule's assistance.

Mihawk only scoffs. "Are you calling just to spoil my mood or is there another reason for your impertinence?"

"I was just trying to-"

"Don't," he cuts him off in a stern voice. "If you have business with me, speak fast. If you're interested in my wife, I know where you live, Garp. I'd suggest losing your unwelcome nosiness before you lose something else."

Little did Garp know at the time but his little question was possibly the worst strategy he could think of. Dracule Mihawk is not like most men and the mere mention of his wife by acquaintances only enrages him. Work and private life do not ever mix. And he'll be damned if someone tries to breach that, even in the form of a courtesy. Therefore, the rest of the call was filled with openly insulting answers that were bold even for Mihawk. A veiled threat or two also found their way into their rather tense conversation.

You know he's done with Garp when he lets out a frustrated grunt. Sometimes you wonder if this grumpy, forever dissatisfied version of him is the only side of Mihawk his acquaintances know. Maybe he really is two men in the form of one.

He's sitting at his desk, thinking about something and not bothering to get up for now. Considering the fact that his hat is lying on the table and not on his head, Mihawk is probably not planning on going out anytime soon. Then again, judging by his spoiled mood, his homestay is a blessing for the first poor sods that would cross his path.

In slow steps, you stroll to his side, letting your hand brush through his hair. He doesn't say anything, only leans his head further towards you. The thing about Mihawk is that he loved to reject and decline but he never does so to you. No, in your case it's the opposite - he revels in allowing you whatever you want.

So intimidating and combative, yet soft and looking for intimacy. Truly, two men with the face of one.

"My mother used to say that each grey hair is one thing we worry about," you say quietly. "At this rate, love, your whole head will be white by noon."

"Your mother also says that milk goes sour because gnomes piss in it," he retorts. Yes, your mother and her strange folk beliefs... She's probably the only person Mihawk can force himself to be nice to despite his dislike.

His response earns a hearty laugh from you. Clear as day, you can see his posture relax as he listens to the music of your happiness. If he even thinks about the possibility of Garp or any other of his acquaintances hearing it, he might just get furious again.

"Well, nobody's perfect," you say between chuckles.

Then, Mihawk gently grabs your hand and lowers it to his face. With softness and passion that hardly befits a man of his infamy, he kisses the inside of your hand. "You seem to be doing so effortlessly."

#mihawk one piece #mihawk #one piece mihawk #mihawk fanfiction #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece #opla #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #one piece imagine #dracule mihawk fanfic #dracule mihawk x you #dracule mihawk fanfiction #dracule mihawk x reader

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wonderjanga · 7 days ago

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Little British Boy

The Batsons were both British people who immigrated to America. As a result of this when Mary and Billy were born, they gained British accents causing them to sound like little Victorian children.

Store Owner: “Thanks for the help, young man.” *hands him five dollars*

Billy: “Thank you sir!”

Store Owner: “No problem-” *has to do a double take at that accent* “A Brit?”

Billy: “No sir. But my parents were. I was raised in America.”

Yeah… It confused some people at first, but after a while of the little British kid coming around and doing odd jobs for money, most store owners got used to it. Then came the time Billy wanted a stable job a.k.a. being the Whiz kid.

Mr. Morris: “So you want to be a radio host?”

Billy: “Yes, sir. I need the money.”

Mr. Morris: “Wow… It’s been a long while since I’ve heard a British accent.”

Billy: “Ah, sorry.” *tries to make himself sound more American, but it comes all across as more transatlantic* “Is that better?”

Mr. Morris: *heard the transatlantic accent and was immediately interested* “Very. Why don’t we have you do a trial run and then we’ll go from there?”

Billy: “I’d really appreciate that, sir.” *thinks he thinks his American accent is good, but doesn’t realize he’s doing a perfect transatlantic*

The Britishness also bled into his Captain Marvel form. Though like with Billy, he tried to sound more American and ended up coming across as more transatlantic. People in the 60s loved it, and when the time bubble popped surprisingly people from the 2000s loved it too. And because in this AU the bubble popped in the 2000s, this was when most heroes were first starting out. He ends up meeting a young Batman. Billy had originally gone to Gotham because they wanted to see if the city was still cursed to heck and sure enough it was.

Batman: “You sound just like the old Gray Ghost movies…”

Marvel: “What was that?”

Batman: “Nothing.”

Somehow, about a couple years after this, they ended up developing a friendship. Marvel was even allowed down in the Batcave on the condition he doesn’t touch anything. (Bruce literally saw the man touch something with his pinky and it short fused. He is not taking any risks until he is sure the Batcomputer can handle enough volts of electricity to take out a power plant.) One of these days while Bruce was working, and Marvel was in the cave pacing and chattering incessantly to Bruce about something random, Alfred came down. The butler distracted the Captain and after a bit, all Bruce could hear was unintelligible words.

At first, Bruce just assumed it was him zoning out of the conversation and thought nothing of it, but then Robin tiptoed over:

Robin!Dick: *pokes Bruce to bring him back to reality* “What are they saying…?” *points to Alfred and Marvel*

Alfred and Marvel: *speaking in Welsh*

Batman: “I… don’t know.”

Robin!Dick and Batman: *stares*

Ah… How could he have forgotten? Alfred’s Welsh. Though, the butler now speaks in a different English accent, likely due to his time as a stage actor. Bruce remembered the man telling him that long ago when he was still a boy. How… unprepared of Bruce. He should’ve learned Welsh by now. He’s a little embarrassed he hasn’t. As for Marvel, Bruce was a little upset he didn’t know the man was from England, let alone the same place as Agent A. But then where did the transatlantic-ness come from?

Robin!Dick: “I still can’t tell what they’re saying…”

Marvel and Alfred: *switched back to English at this point, but the accents are still strong*

So yes, Billy has three accents folks. His mother Marilyn was Welsh so he knows how to mimic the accent and speak the language because I say so. His father had a classic London accent which Billy defaults to most of the time. So, Billy’s double British, or just British and Welsh is you want to separate the two. Then there’s the fail-to-try-to-sound-more-American-accent or accidental transatlantic accent.

#billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics #batman #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson #richard grayson #robin dc #dc robin

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jo-com · 7 months ago

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⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ ➛ Eye Catching

F1 Drivers x Toto Wolf’s daughter

Summary: The only time you go to your dads and you already got the attention of the drivers.

Genre: SMAU

Fc: Various face claim, found the pics on pinterest

Note: grammatical errors and not proofread

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

───── ─ ೀ⋆｡🌷─ ───────

Your Notifications:

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Yn.wolf just posted!

Liked by urbff, landonorris, Carlossainz55 and 978,409 others

Yn.wolf thanks for following lil ol me💋

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Charles_Leclerc are you perhaps single?

Yn.wolf hmm idk🤔 ask dad

User1 WAHAHAHHAHA GURL GOT HUMBLED FAST

Lewishamilton @Charles_Leclerc let a real man handle this

User2 The fact that all of them wants her

User3 ATE AT THE PADDOCK TODAY

User4 waiting for @Lewishamilton shot

User5 honestly same

Yn.wolf same😐

Landonorris Hi👋🏻

Toto_wolf uhm no

Landonorris I ONLY SAID HI

Toto_wolf you shouldn’t even be here right now at my DAUGHTERS post

User6 oohhh emphasis on the daughter huh

Carlossainz55 just saw toto’s comment, i’ll sit this one out

Toto_wolf best idea you ever had

User8 this is getting way out of hand😭

Yn.wolf couldn’t agree more

User9 y/n’s vibe is just so 😫👌🏻

…

Liked by Oscarpiastri, Landonorris, Charle_leclerc and 4,589 others

Urbff wow 2 flowers in one day, you must be rich!

Tagged; @Yn.wolf

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Toto_wolf tell me who.

Urbff even idk sir😭

Carlossainz55 hope you love it señora💞

Yn.wolf i do in fact my kind sir, gracias💕

Maxverstappen1 did you like mine?

Yn.wolf they were also lovely!

Maxverstappen1 thanks, took me an hour to pick the right one

Landonorris On my way to send flowers

Charles_Leclerc (2)

Toto_wolf i am blocking the mail service as we speak

Lewishamilton I haven’t even sent mine yet!

Toto_wolf dear god🤦🏻‍♂️

Comments have been limited!

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Yn.wolf just posted a story!

Replies:

Carlossainz55 my world😍😚

Yn.wolf 🤭🤭

Carlossainz55 i just love how, they think that they have a shot with you

Yn.wolf UR WAY TOO CRUEL MY LOVE😭😭

Lewishamilton can i get another shot?

Maxverstappen1 my cats said hi

Charle_leclerc that book seems heavy, want me to hold your hands?

Charles_leclerc book*

Landonorris i love you

Landonorris damn i mean the view, you got me crazy for a moment there

…

Short but hope you like it though💞

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dollracha · 16 days ago

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𐙚 seungmin's puppy ⋆ k.sm x fem! reader

pairing: dom owner! seungmin x puppy sub! reader genre: smut warnings: pet play ⋆ collaring ⋆ kinda mean dom seungmin ⋆ oral m receiving ( briefly ) ⋆ spanking ( briefly ) ⋆ seungmin is called sir ⋆ reader is referred to as puppy and girl wc: 506 synopsis: just a little scenario on being seungmin's puppy. not super detailed. not beta read either. author's note: my first post!

seungmin loves you with all his heart but that also means he loves messing with you with all his heart. he looooves putting you in situations that "force" you to break his rules. ( really, you're just too horny to care. )

"all i want is an obedient puppy, why do you make that so hard?" as he lands another smack on your ass. his hands smooth over your flushed skin, slipping between your thighs to find the slick of your cunt between them.

"aw... did my puppy like getting her ass spanked? is that why you're always misbehaving?"

you just shake your head, and the metal tag of your collar clicks together. seungmin fucking loves that collar. it's a soft yet firm leather, and the heart shaped tag has his name engraved on it.

and when he really feels like it, it's got a leash he can attach to pull you around with too. he's not at all opposed to making you crawl for him: just when you get to his feet he'll walk away so you have to follow.

or sometimes you'll be sucking his cock and he tugs on it just to make you gag a little, making his cock hit the back of your throat just to see you pull away with tears in your eyes trying to catch your breath.

"i never said you could stop. be a good puppy and make me cum."

even with all his teasing, he'd never deny you of his cock. that's punishing himself and he's not one to do that. but just because he can cum doesn't mean you can.

"did i say you could cum?"

you shake your head. he didn't. you know that. you know his rules but you also know there's no way you're not gonna cum when he's fucking you like this.

seungmin tugs on your leash, just enough to get you to snap your focus back on him. "speak, puppy."

"no, sir..."

"that's right. finally behaving, aren't you?"

and you nod, you've been so good for him, taking his punishment so well...

"good girl. that's all it takes, right? put you back in your place and i got the sweetest puppy ever."

seungmin's thumb starts working light circles against your clit, and it's the little whine that slips out of your throat that kills him.

"that's my sweet girl. so obedient for me. gonna cum for me? now that i'm allowing you to?"

"thank you, sir!"

it's as soon as it leaves your mouth that he's fucking you again. slow to tease you before he grows impatient with the pace he's set. he's fucking into your cunt, trying to hold back his groans. he doesn't want his puppy realizing that he's utterly whipped.

it fails. seungmin's moaning out your name when your hands reach into his hair, fucking you with more desperation than he cares to admit. when you come undone he's soon to follow. cumming inside you with his arms bracing himself up with his head buried in your neck—marking you with sloppy bites and kisses.

"you're mine, puppy. my puppy—gotta mark what's mine."

#dollracha #seungmin smut #kim seungmin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader smut #skz x reader smut #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x reader

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xothatnerdykid · 1 year ago

Text

what's love got to do with it?

The students and teachers alike at UA High can't help but notice the strange behavior of the typically stern and stoic teacher of Class 1-A. They come up with all sorts of theories but soon discover the even more surprising truth: Aizawa-sensei is simply falling in love. Fluffy Aizawa x fem!reader drabble. SFW. 2,828 words.

The way everyone looks at him when he walks in, you’d think he’d grown a second head or something.

Aizawa glances up from his phone after reading a sweet little text from you, greeting him good morning and wishing him a good day at work, only to find every student's wide-eyed, unblinking attention focused solely on him.

One second, they were all happily chattering, and then, the next…

"Hmm? What?" He asks his class offhandedly, throwing his things on the table and taking his usual seat.

But instead of answering him, the whole room erupts into a whispered frenzy.

"Did you see that? Did he just...?"

"No way! Must have been a trick of the light or something."

"What the heck? I feel so unnerved. Llike we just spotted a UFO or something.”

“You guys saw it too, right? Are we all just collectively hallucinating?”

"Oi!" He calls their attention. "Would anyone care to tell me what it is exactly that's gotten all of you so worked up this morning?"

Stunned silence falls over Class 1-A again, and Aizawa can’t help but cross his arms and sigh. “Iida? Yaoyorozu? What’s going on?”

He doesn’t miss the way the class president and vice-president exchange a hesitant look before Iida answers him.

“Apologies, sensei!” He hastily gets up to bow. “I will personally make sure everyone quiets down.” He zooms around the room and gestures frantically at his noisy classmates to settle down.

Bemused by their commotion, Aizawa observes them all carefully. What could’ve caused such a stir? He wonders. And why are they all so reluctant to tell him? Did he have a piece of spinach in his teeth or something? A quick glance downwards tells him he didn’t forget to wear pants or shoes or anything, so what was it?

“If I may, sensei?” Yaoyorozu raises her hand and he nods at her. “I think everyone was just a little distracted by your change in demeanor today."

He furrows his eyebrows at the young girl. "What change?"

"Well, we’ve never seen you smile before. Or at least, not like that.”

He blinks in surprise. He’d been smiling when he walked into class this morning? "What about it?"

"Well, sir," Iida adds, taking his seat once everyone's finally settled down. "It's quite an uncommon sight. Naturally, they were taken aback."

“You usually only smile when you’re giving us a tough time in exams or training exercises, sensei.”

The corners of Aizawa’s mouth twitch upwards at that, which he quickly covers up with a small cough. “Well, enough of that. Let’s get on with today’s lesson, shall we?”

Everyone straightens up to listen as their homeroom teacher goes over a few important announcements. And although he isn’t smiling anymore, Class 1-A doesn't miss the way his usually sharp gaze has grown soft and almost...fond as he speaks to them.

As soon as the homeroom bell rings, Aizawa dismisses them with an absent-minded wave of his hand and takes out his phone to text you: Do I really never smile?

You smile when you’re rounding up bad guys sometimes. You reply almost right away. Or when you see a cat.

He chuckles. Apparently I also do it when I’m torturing my students. Then…Or when I’m texting you.

You send back a little cat emoji, and the grin you get after reading that doesn't leave your face for the rest of the day.

_________________________________________

“Shouta! Helloooo? I said Earth to Shouta?” Kayama waves her hand in Aizawa’s face.

It seems to snap him out of whatever trance he’s in. “Sorry, what?” He blinks up at her.

She gives Yamada a look. “What’s with him today?”

“Dunno,” he shrugs, then turns to his friend. “Hey buddy, didn’t get any sleep again last night or something?”

You could say that, Aizawa thinks to himself with a smirk, then hastily scolds his features into their usually stoic expression. “No. Why?”

Kayama raises an eyebrow at him. “You've just been acting a little...off. Distracted, maybe?”

"Nothing to worry about," Aizawa reassures them, dismissing their concerns with a wave of his hand. He goes back to observing his students closely in the hopes of them moving past the subject, but Kayama and Yamada aren’t convinced. Anyone looking at him could tell something was different today.

“Sensei?” Kirishima hesitantly calls out to him. “I’m having a little trouble with my balance. Could you show me that move again?”

Aizawa nods, and everyone’s jaw just about drops to the floor when he demonstrates the proper stance with uncharacteristic patience.

"Remember to be mindful of where you shift your weight," He guides Kirishima through the motions with a supportive tone, a stark departure from his normally gruff and no-nonsense approach. "And keep your focus. You'll get it."

Kirishima does as he’s told and looks to his teacher for feedback.

"No, adjust your stance a bit like this. Yes, that's it. Great improvement," Aizawa says, offering a rare compliment.

Flabbergasted, the red-haired boy manages a stuttering, "Th-Thank you, sensei," before Aizawa moves on to help the next student.

Observing everything from afar, Kayama leans over to Yamada and whispers, “He didn’t get a concussion on that last mission, did he? I've never seen him like this."

“Check what was in his coffee a while ago. And if he still has more — oof, it was just a joke!”

_________________________________________

“Okay, enough is enough!” Mina bursts into the room, dramatically crying. “I have to know!”

“Know what?” Kirishima asks as the others start to gather around her.

“What’s going on with Aizawa sensei? I saw him on the way here — he’s wearing a buttoned up shirt.”

There’s a collective gasp.

“Are you sure?” Momo asks.

Mina nods frantically. “And it was freshly pressed, too!”

Another round of gasps.

“And his hair was tied up!” The pink girl all but weeps, throwing herself onto the nearest desk.

“What do you think is going on with him?” Deku rubs his chin thoughtfully.

“He’s been acting so weird lately!” Uraraka whines.

As if on cue, Aizawa walks in. “Good morning, class,” he greets them without his usual gruffness.

Everyone hurries back to their seats, but Mina leans over to grab Kaminari’s sleeve, screaming under her breath, “He said good morning!”

“Look at his eyes!” He points frantically. “No puffy, dark circles or redness at all! He actually looks well-rested for once!”

“That’s where I draw the line!” Kirishima almost slams his fist on his desk. “We have to get to the bottom of this.”

Sero joins them, “Do you think Mic sensei and Midnight sensei know anything?”

Kaminari shrugs, “It’s worth asking.”

“Maybe Aizawa sensei has a secret twin and he’s pulling a prank on us?” Deku contemplates.

Uraraka shakes her head, “Sensei? Pulling a prank? I doubt it. What if there’s a new teacher at UA with a shape-shifting quirk?”

“Or Shinsou brainwashed him into being in a good mood?” Jirou chimes in.

As they huddle and murmur, Todoroki and Tokoyami shoot them curious glances, and Iida has to shush them discreetly.

They snap back to attention every time Aizawa faces them, pretending to listen to the lesson. But as soon as their sensei turns away again, the room buzzes with whispered speculation.

And though he acts none the wiser, seemingly engrossed in the topic they're supposed to be discussing, Aizawa can't help his amusement listening to their outlandish theories. A small, smug part of him relishes stoking the fires of their confusion.

He knew he'd have some explaining to do, but for now, he’s more than happy to just let them wonder.

_________________________________________

“Oh, look who finally decided to show up!” is the first thing Mic says when he spots him. The colorful cocktail in his hand is practically empty, but he happily sips the fun loopy straw for whatever dredges he can anyway.

“Are you going to make me regret it?” Aizawa grumbles, taking his seat next to his friends.

But Mic and Midnight just snicker, unfazed. They’ve had years to get used to his grumpiness after all (and a few drinks to put them in a better mood).

"We have to admit, Aizawa," Midnight smirks up at him. "We had an ulterior motive for asking you to come hang out tonight."

"Don't you always?" He deadpans, lazily chewing at the gyoza they ordered without him. Although he doesn’t show it, he’s pleased to see there’s already a whiskey neat waiting on the table for him.

Midnight rolls her eyes as she slides it over to him, "Yeah, but aside from just getting you to lighten up as usual."

"And getting you to sing karaoke with us, which I still can't believe—"

"You promised me we'd never talk about it again,” Aizawa groans as he rubs his hand over his face. “And that you'd never let me get that drunk again.”

"Awww, come on, buddy," Yamada slings his arm around him. "What's the point of having a good story you can't tell?"

"Fine, but I'll deny it, so no one will believe you anyway."

"I don’t know,” Midnight sing-songs, swirling her margarita in its glass. “With the way you’ve been acting lately, they just might.”

He frowns at her. “Meaning?”

Mic grins, leaning forward with an impish glint in his eye, "Meaning we heard you've been keeping secrets from us, Aizawa."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh really? Then would you care to tell us why you’ve been smiling so much lately?”

“Or who you’ve been trying to look nice for?”

Realizing they weren’t going to let this go easily, Aizawa sighs and takes a deep sip of his whiskey, the familiar warmth sliding down his throat. He's not one to discuss his personal life openly, even with his close friends, but there's something about their teasing that doesn't quite irk him tonight.

Aizawa tilts his head slightly, thoughtfully. "I'm just...happy, I suppose."

“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

“Come on, buddy, you can tell us!” Mic nudges him playfully.

“We want to know what’s got our favorite grump acting like a—" Midnight’s hands quickly fly up to cover her gasp.

“Like a what?” Mic gives her a puzzled look, but Aizawa’s shoulders tense up at the glint in her eyes. That look usually meant very bad things for him.

“Like a lovesick puppy!” She grabs Mic’s arm, excitedly slapping it before shaking Aizawa’s shoulders and squealing into his ear. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re in love!”

Aizawa chokes on his drink, and Mic pats him on the back to ease his coughing fit.

"Real smooth, Kayama,” he teases her.

"Sorry, but I couldn't resist," Midnight pouts, the twinkle of amusement still shining bright in her eyes.

Aizawa wipes his mouth and sets his glass down with a sigh. “Well, if you must know…There is…someone I’ve been spending time with.”

"Someone!" His friends chorus, delighted.

Mic nudges him gently. “Well? Don’t leave us in suspense!”

"Who is it? Do we know them?" Midnight leans forward, giggling.

Aizawa looks down at his glass for a moment, contemplating how much he should reveal. Although he feels a little overwhelmed by their excitement and their scrutiny, he also secretly relishes the joy of sharing this part of his life with his closest friends.

It feels good, he thinks, to be around them and to know that they care so much about him. And though he’s never been one to discuss his personal affairs, he trusts these two enough to share the parts of himself he usually kept guarded.

Seeing the expectant looks on their faces, eagerly awaiting his answer, Aizawa's ears turn the faintest shade of red.

“Do you want to meet her?”

_________________________________________

"Had a fun night?" You greet your boyfriend with a hug when he shows up at your door well past a reasonable hour.

You don't miss the small smile on his face when he takes off his shoes. "Actually, I did. But Yamada and Kayama were pretty insistent on meeting you."

"You told them about me?" you respond, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

He nods, not quite meeting your gaze. "I think they'd like you."

"Really?" You plop down on the couch with him and stretch your legs atop his lap.

"Yeah," He gently grazes your thigh. "They were wondering why I've been acting so differently lately."

"Like what?"

"Apparently I'm smiling more and acting nicer and" — He air quotes — “Stopped looking homeless."

You laugh. "And what did you say?"

He shrugs, “That I guess my girlfriend just makes me really happy.”

“Awww,” you pat his cheek playfully. “What’s next? You gonna tell me you’re in love with me or something?”

"Yes? I thought it was obvious?"

"What?" Your heart skips a beat at his nonchalant admission.

“Hmm?” He looks over, and seeing the evident surprise on your face makes Aizawa chuckle. "I thought I'd been making it pretty clear, but I suppose I should say it outright. Yes, I'm in love with you."

Your heart flutters at his words, a warmth spreading through you. "Well, for someone who's known for being so straightforward, you sure took your time saying that."

He brushes a strand of hair from your face and leaves a soft, lingering kiss on your temple. “I’ll say it as many times as you want to hear it, baby.”

You lean in closer, your lips almost touching his. “Alright,” you look up at him with a sleepy smile and half-lidded eyes. “I’m waiting.”

"I love you," he whispers, his voice low and tender. He places a gentle kiss on your nose. “I love you,” and then another on your cheeks…“I love you.”

He gently brushes his lips against yours, cupping your jaw so you can’t help but gaze deeply into his dark, smoky eyes before he finally closes the distance between you.

“Mhhm.” You smile, contentment washing over you like a gentle wave. "I love you, too, baby."

#aizawa shouta #bnha shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #bnha aizawa #aizawa sensei #eraserhead #aizawa imagine #aizawa shouta imagine #aizawa shouta x you #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta x y/n #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #chloe writes #chloe's fics

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