#looking way too deep into things because it’s late at night

[kaisentine]

݁ ִ  ۫ ⸺ ❝ 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔　.ᐟ　❞

⌗ ⸺ ❝ 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 . . ! ❞ the one thing you dread the most is your friends overanalyzing and hyping you up all because of a simple interaction with your crush—so annoying! ft. michael kaiser, itoshi sae, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro, & oliver aiku general cw. just idiots in love, reader is so deep into denial it’s infuriating, highschool au, shidou, fem reader . . . ( MY BAD ) sticky-note i think i just yapped my brains out with this one ( what’s new! ). bomb idea, explosive writing! NAWT PROOFREAD

sticky note. BAEE 😁 thought of this cuz i was also doing snapstreaks

𐔌 . 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑 is apparently so into you because . . . ❝ he snaps you in the morning ! ❞

your friend seems way more excited than you are. it’s way too early for her to already be geeked out at you opening kaiser’s snap for streaks. “i don’t get it,” you say as you open the image—he’s still at home even though most students are already in their respective classes, it’s the side of his face and really nothing special ( if you didn’t like him ). “he’s the epitome of ‘i don’t snap til i’m done with training.” she explains further yet you still don’t understand why she’s pointing it out. “does that quote even exist?” you ask, she’s off with your phone to observe the very thought out ( not really ) photo and shoves your phone into your face with her manicured finger pointing something out. “never mind that! look!” she has effectively made your brain’s circuit cut short because you don’t understand. you grab her wrist to control the distance so you can actually see. why is she pointing at his hair? “what am i looking at?” you voice your exact thoughts. “not tryna be mean to your crush or whatever, but it’s clear he has bed head!” she exclaims, attempting to remove your hand from her wrist, “there’s a reason he only snaps after training . . .” she ends in a murmur. “ha-ha, very funny. i still don’t get it.” you fake laugh at her sly comment and finally surrender her arm—letting it drop. “he hates people seeing him in the morning because of that,” she contemplates saying what she is just about to say—when has she ever done that? “maybe he wants to be the first man you see in the morning, that’s why!” she giggles, and your jaw drops; that is the biggest stretch she has ever came up with! “are you a lunatic?!? the last thing i’d want to do is show him me in the morning . . . he probably hates me!” this reaction of yours wasn’t what you friend wanted to get out from you. she was expecting to see a gleam of hope in your eyes but instead she’s met with a gloss of panic.

actually, your friend was spot on—he snaps you in the morning because he wants to be the first man you see in the morning. the strategy isn’t as effective as he would like it to be because despite the fact he has a pretty reasonable schedule like how he sleeps 7 hours every night, he only knocks out at about 2 am. he’s probably more effective at being late for school if anything. however, he’d rather you see him as at least one of the first males you see at such an ungodly time with ungodly bed head than you seeing him rush into the classroom because he’s late for the first time you glance at his ( glorious ) face that day. the man also decides he’s way too good for the stupidly cute filters you can find on the app so those are out of question—random wall photos are too. gets ness to hype him up and then chastises him if you don’t even look his way.

sticky note. i feel like this is a stupid reason but it’s such a funny concept

𐔌 . 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄 is apparently so interested in you because . . . ❝ he ate a fry . ❞

your friend is dead serious but you’re just looking at her like ‘oh you actually serious?’. “sorry, what?” you bring your ear closer to her mouth in hopes you probably just misheard what she said. “he. ate. a. fry.” she repeats—nope she is definitely not joking with you. “i don’t see how sae eating a fry relates to him liking me,” you start deadpanning at her attempt at convincing you itoshi sae likes you—she sucks at this! she cocks a brow and gives you a dirty look, “i have a theory you might not actually like him . . . God that man hates fries.” she shudders at the thought. “they were the fries you brought!” she adds on, quickly regaining her composure from pure terror. “okay . . . yeah but it was one singular—not plural—fry, are you okay?” yes, you have a point, it was one fry, and now you’re concerned for you friend. she raises her hands up in surrender while sighing like she was just defeated—have you finally tamed the hostile creature? nope. there’s a sudden stupid smirk on her face that looks straight-up devious, “and plural—not singular—reasons why he is sooo interested!” she elongates and dramatizes the ‘so’, and you mentally slap yourself to make up for the stupidness you can feel radiating off her words. “i can never win with you, can i?” you ask but the answer is already clear—you cannot.

yup, sae hates fries, dearly—that isn’t some kind of secret because he is pretty open about it. once even telling you friend to . . . “fuck off,” when she thought it was a good idea to offer him the stick of pure deliciousness ( hence why she gets shivers thinking about it ). he doesn’t care about a lot of things like how he doesn’t bother himself with keeping most things private or public because he simply just does not give a flying shit. neither does he really care if he makes his feelings clear or not—mixed signals king! sure, he likes you but that doesn’t stop him from being nonchalant. the only time he’ll make openings are in soccer and anything other than that—he just lets it happen. that means if he is given a chance to ‘make a move’ and it’s served on a silver platter without him needing to excerpt any more effort? he’ll take it. if he isn’t, he waits for the next time. but that man doesn’t know anything about feelings so he thinks eating something you brought is making a move.

sticky note. this man is a FREAK but he’s a simple guy promise

𐔌 . 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐈 is apparently so downbad for you because . . . ❝ he said ‘if i was a velociraptor, i’d eat y/n first’ ? ! ❞

your friend reads off her phone and accidentally pushes her desk towards your chair. “HUH?” you’re just as surprised as your friend is—shidou ryusei actually said that? “you have to look at this,” she states and smacks you in the face with her phone ( deja vu WHO ), it’s the school’s blog and the post is exactly what she just said. “that’s just . . . i mean—what?” you find it quite hard to comprehend what you were reading because what do you mean the weird guy you like posted that? “is that edited?” you ask for confirmation—you literally can’t believe it. she clicks the profile and it is him, you feel your face flush when you’re bombarded with images of him. “i get it! i get it!” you bark and swat her hand away, “whydoievenlikehim—“ you mutter before covering your eyes like you just saw something so distasteful. “girl, i don’t know . . . but he totally likes you,” she shrieks, turning off her phone so such madness is no longer seen. you aren’t entirely buying it, “i doubt it, if i was some kind of carnivorous animal, i wouldn’t eat the guy i like—at all!” you say with a frown on your face. she looks at you, looking even more horrified at what you just said to her. “his thinking process is probably out the window, y’know? he probably just means he wants you to be with him forever!” “in his stomach? no thanks.”

what makes you think shidou ryusei is okay in the head in the slightest? if he likes someone—he makes it so obvious! he doesn’t second guess his words, much less his online posts so as soon aas he was done typing out the words, he clicked post almost immediately. doesn’t regret it one bit. his eyes land anywhere but sae? that is truly a feat . . .

sticky note. does this even happen. also nagi really likes sleeping

𐔌 . 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 is apparently so desperate for you because . . . ❝ he sleeps on your shoulder . ❞

your friend is referring to the multiple times your crush has decided to accidentally fall asleep on your shoulder. “so . . .” you urge her to elaborate her point further than she already has. “and he only does it when he’s next to you,” she discerned, whipping out photo evidence in the form of a printed piece of paper. it’s really nothing too special—just the two of you sitting next to each other on the waiting lounge’s couch, waiting for your guys’ turn for the school’s mandatory medical check-up. he looks quite comfortable, arms crossed and manspreading ( 😭 ) but his head is rested on your shoulder—sleeping. “. . .why’d you print it,” you gasp at such an absurd action to prove a point and you quickly rip the paper out of her hands, “you’re insufferable.” you shake your head in disappointment. “a girl gotta do what she gotta do, y’know! how much more obvious does he need to be???” ugh, she’s being so dramatic—he’s just sleeping on your shoulder. “he probably realized i . . .didn’t mind so he doesn’t care,” you reject the idea. “you might be the insufferable one—why do you think he keeps doing it?” she says and you so want to side eye her but you aren’t going to turn sideways to do that because that is mad embarrassing. “i don’t know! he’s just some sleepy guy like,” you give her a pout before continuing, “. . .and people said that they feel sleepy around me.” you admit. “nah, they’re just saying you’re boring!” she giggles—did you not put that together? you playfully push her shoulder in annoyance. “but i’ll give you the answer—he wants to close to you, or in other words; he likes you!”

nagi is the type of lazy where he thinks it’s too much of a hassle to confess first but thinks making physical advancements don’t count. he can easily sleep anywhere, honestly. he likes his sleep but he loves good sleep and you just feel like a good person to sleep on so he decides to try it—and he’s right. he did do it accidentally the first time, it was on his mind but he really didn’t mean to! sleep just drenched his eyes and he was out cold—on your shoulder. there, he decides he likes you more than just a comfy pillow to doze off on.

sticky note. i feel like reader is very justified LMFAO. yk i have a friend who has more than a mu or a situationship but aren’t dating and she said he longest more than friends but not not dating was like 4 years

𐔌 . 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔 aiku is apparently so smitten for you because . . . ❝ girl, he confessed . . . ❞

your friend resists the overwhelming urge to bitch-slap you because you long-pressed your dms with him. the message wasn’t some kind of special confession just a simple ‘hey i know we just started talking but i think i’m inlove with you’ God reading that made you cringe. “yeah nope, not buying it.” you know he probably knows you saw it because of that stupid green dot on your profile but his message is still left on delivered. “why not?” she asks, “he knows you’ve read it, why edge him?” she pulls out her phone from her bag and faces her back towards you. “what are you doing . . ?” you’re honestly scared what she’s planning because even though you could also just stand up and look over her shoulder—she’d run out of the classroom and disappear. “texting someone,” she says while she’s rapidly typing out something, her shoulders shaking. “i don’t like the sound of that,” you refer to the hidden underlining of her tone, “you’re scaring me—ugh—whatever. i just started texting him, he barely knows me, he’s probably had 4 girlfriends in the span of 5 months—what makes me any different?” like—not trying to degrade yourself but you’re worried that he’s just going to play you too. “if he does, i’ll break his heart!” she says in resolve, doing the cliche moment of lifting up a fist and you giggle at her. there’s a quick buzz from your phone and it’s from the girl in-front of you, “what’s this?” you raise an eyebrow, clicking the notification pop-up. “just read it,” okay . . . if she insists. dot. dot. dot. there’s invisible crickets going off in your head. “is this from sendou?” “uh-huh.”

unbeknownst to you, your friend was actually texting her situationship ( of like 8 months LMFAO )—sendou shuto to ask him about oliver’s confession since they’re friends and all. ‘aiku n y/n? oh yeah he’s totally smitten man, i ain’t never seen aiku talk about a girl like he does w her’ is the message she forwarded to you that let the crickets rip! no but seriously, he normally has cycles like when he’s with one girl but then breaks up with her because he got eyes for another but now he promises that he only wants you!

bonus on why reo likes you because i might not be writing as much as i did this week because of school :p

mikage reo ⸺ ❝ he bought your entire christmas wishlist . . . ❞

[norikuna]

pick your love story °🍵⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ jujutsu kaisen edition (sfw)

gojo satoru ☆ childhood friends to lovers

loves to tease you, and he'll always poke your cheek, ruffle your hair, or steal your food just to get a reaction. if you're shy or quiet, he lives to make you flustered. buys the most ridiculous gifts, including matching sunglasses and designer items that cost more than your rent. acts like your personal heater, always draping himself over you, wrapping his long arms around your shoulders, or sneaking his hands under your sweater to press them against your skin. if someone flirts with you? well, he's throwing him arm around you so dramatically, calling you his 'beloved' in the most obnoxious way possible. if the person doesn't back off, his carefree tone disappears and he gives them a chilling smile. loves late night drives and cafe dates, he's so the type to blast music in the car and sing off-key on purpose, always laughs when you tell him to zip it. his love language is definitely physical touch and words of affirmation, and he needs to be touching you at all times, and he constantly reminds you how much he loves you in different playful and heartfelt ways <3 he's even softer when he's sleepy, nuzzling into your neck and shit, voice always dropping to a quiet murmur as he spills whatever's on his mind.

geto suguru ☆ best friends to lovers

pretty chill, protective and a faux deep thinker type of guy. gentle and attentive, always knowing what you need before you even ask. if had a rough day, he's gonna run you a bath and try to get your favourite drink. tries to sit still and listen patiently while you rant. lowkey a bit overzealous when it comes to jealousy, but never petty. he doesn't get outwardly possessive. but if someone flirts with you, he'll wrap an arm around your waist and give the person a pretty sharp look, enough that they'll back off and shit. always takes pictures of you, and he has an entire album of random shots of you reading, laughing or even just existing bc he really does think you look beautiful in every moment. loves bookstore and vinyl shop dates, and he enjoys those sweet peaceful moments with you (flipping through books, aka arguing about different genres). he's super big on quality time + acts of service, and if he sees you struggling with anything, he'll try to take care of it before you even have to ask. loves running his fingers through your hair, and he claims it calms him, and sometimes he just gets so lost in thought while doing it, that you have to snap him out of it. he's the type to whisper sweet things in your ear absentmindedly, like 'you have no idea how much i love you' when he thinks you're not paying attention. goes all red and dismissive when he realises you actually did hear that :D and he says he's not in gossip and drama but no one talks shit like he does, lets be real

ryomen sukuna ☆ prob sum weird enemies to lover shit

claims he doesn't date, but somehow ends up trying to figure out your favourite flower. calls you stupid shit like 'brat' or 'pet' more than your actual name, but if someone disrespects you, he tears them apart without hesitation. gets jealous easily, but he won't admit it, and if someone looks at you wrong, he'll grab your chin and kiss you (not that you mind <3) his love language is physical touch and dominance, expect him to always keep a hand on your waist, neck or chin because as much as he pretends otherwise, he loves feeling your skin against his. gaslights you over silly things for fun ('i literally told you that' 'no you didn't' 'oh, so you're forgetful now). also whispers absolute nonsense in your ear just from time to time, 'did you know that octopuses have three hearts? bet you didn't, but now you do. you're welcome'). will open a jar way too aggressively to try and show off his strength but breaks it, and now you're left with no pickles and a sulking sukuna with pickle juice on his hand. carries you like a sack of potatoes on his shoulders if you piss him off. pretends he doesn't gaf, but always shares his food with you and tries to order what you like.

toji fushiguro ☆ reluctant friends to lovers

grumpy but soft for you typa boyfriend who doesn't believe in using full words in texts. only texts in 'ya' or 'nah' and he accidentally replied 'k' to you saying 'i love you' and he called you immediately afterwards because he knows he messed up. loves pda but in the most lazy way possible, and will always drape himself over you like a weighted blanket and refuse to move. always steals bites of your food (half the meal) but will act offended if you do the same. once won you a stuffed animal at a carnival and acted like it was no big deal, but he actually used up all his carnival tickets trying to win you the biggest prize. spoils you in a reckless way, and he'll hand you a wad of cash and refuses to tell you how he got the money. he just tells you to go buy something nice. love language is acts of service and physical touch because he claims he's not amazing with words, but his hands always find their way back home to you. loves lazy mornings, and grumbles when you try to get out of bed, pulling you back in with an arm around your waist.

nanami kento ☆ love at first sight

exhausted but devoted you get me, and he claims that you energise him and light up his life. lectures you when you only sleep for three hours a night. replies to the tiktoks you send with corporate replies 'that was humorous. thank you for sharing. i love you.' he thinks you're absolutely the most beautiful person on the planet, and always lets you know. pretty gentle, mature and devoted. shows his love in sweet, meaningful ways. always puts your comfort first, and he tries to take things off your plate without asking. loves cooking for you, and believes cooking is its own love language. hates unnecessary, brash pda but loves quiet intimacy. holds your hand, brushes your hair against your ear. lingering kisses on your temple. reads to you at night, and he'll sit beside you if you have trouble drifting off. his love language is absolutely acts of service and quality time, and he doesn't just say he loves you, he'll prove it in every little action of his. loves taking you out to scenic parks and hikes, and just stares after you with so much love as he tries to adjust the focus of his camera lenses to try and capture you as well as he can.

choso kamo ☆ strangers to lovers

kinda awkward but genuinely, really quiet sweet. overthinks everything, and at the start of your relationship, he even started overthinking how you said 'goodnight!' and wondered if you were mad at him, because there was no heart or emoji. would die before making the first move idk, like you're going to have kiss him first or else, otherwise i fear he's going to have a stroke. holds grudges as long as he can, and will bring up little shit (like you stealing his lunch) six months later 'remember that time you betrayed me?'. but he can only really give you the silent treatment for two whole minutes when you tease him, and then immediately apologises because he feels bad. a lot of friends tease the two of you because they think choso is too quiet or a pushover but the truth is that he's actually pretty snarky, clever and observant. very determined and always sticks to his morals, even at times when you disagree with him, he's able to put his foot down. love language is quality time and gift giving, because he's the type to remember everything you like and surprise him with it. loves watching movies with you, and pretends not to care for 90s chick flicks, but he's digging them deep down. loves holding your hand, and even in public, he'll reach for you quietly.

higuruma hiromi☆ coworkers to lovers

overworked but loves you so bad. he sometimes reminds you of a tired, single dad but he's truly joyous to date. if you call him baby in public, he immediately malfunctions and blushes. you once kissed him in a courtroom (not even when court was ongoing!) on the tip of his gorgeous nose, and he almost choked. will 100% object to random things just to irritate you, with topics like takeout for dinner, 'objection. we had sushi two days ago.' takes everything pretty seriously, until you do something cute. then he just sits there, hiding his smile behind his hand like an adorable anime protagonist. tries to be strict or protective, but you just make him super soft. secretly likes pda but pretends that he doesn't. grips your hand so tight like he fears you might disappear. loves when you rest in his lap or against his chest as he reads over cases and paperwork. you told him that he'd look hot with glasses, and you caught him browsing through lens frames.

naoya zenin ☆ arranged marriage (kinda ooc naoya btw, bear with me)

sort of a menace who should have been left on read a long time ago, but this wasn't your first choice. somehow, he folds for you almost immediately but you think he'd rather dig his own grave and neatly fold his hands over his chest as he buries himself at his own funeral before he admits that he likes you. calls you annoying but will drop everything if you text him that you need help. always saying dumb shit to you, or trying to make fun of you, but if someone else does? they're gone, like he's going to stalk them, find where they work, and get them fired from their job. texts you the stupidest things like 'if i was ugly, would you still love me?' 'i just saw an ugly baby. damn' 'what would do if i got arrested? be honest.' saw someone flirting with you once at like a fancy event, and rolled his eyes, pretending that he didn't give a flying fuck. ended up at the bathroom mirror, gripping the sink and trying not to throw up. if you ignore his texts, he's gonna send vaguely ominous messages, like 'answer me' followed by 'this is how it ends?' 'i'm leaving btw, i'm going to pack up and leave you forever and go live on my own in the wild.' you check his location and he's still at home. naoya thinks he's the prize in the relationship, he's not. definitely a pda menace, and he loves just kissing you in public.

hajime kashimo ☆ enemies to lovers but in that 'we met when we were fighting' way

your relationship is just him being reckless with no survival instinct, and you trying to keep your boyfriend alive. aka trying to stop him from licking the power outlet. will randomly challenge you to fights for no reason, never mind the fact that he'll feel bad and back out at the last minute. has no concept of personal space, and will stand nose to nose with you just to make you uncomfortable. if you back away, he's gonna follow you and ask where you're going. if someone flirts with you, he's not even going to do too much, just laugh in their face and ask the offender if they really thought they had a chance. kashimo has no concept of an inside voice at all, so god forbid you try to take him somewhere quiet. energy level always at 200% and it's a mission to even take him someplace like a grocery store. if you said 'i love you' first, it might have been the only time that someone else has bested him in something. hajime physically can't process emotions and goes green and pale (he loves you so much btw) and he looks vaguely ill at your confession. stares for five minutes before throwing himself at you. definitely a words of affirmation type of guy, instead of actions, because sometimes, he's all bark and no bite.

noritoshi kamo ☆ sweet, rom-com crush

he's actually a bit traditional, but very sweet. unfortunately, he's also so formal that it hurts sometimes. but it's fun when he asks you things like 'would you like to accompany me for an evening meal?' or 'shall we go for a stroll?' if you hold his hand, for the first few months, he sweats profusely but acts as though he's totally cool (narrator: he was not cool). lowkey believes that he doesn't deserve you and he absolutely treats you, the love of his life, like royalty. super observant and determined to make you as comfortable as possible, so you're never really left wanting for anything. if someone flirts with you, he doesn't really get jealous, but rather gets philosophical. 'it is natural for others to admire beauty such as yours. however, they must know it's not theirs to claim.' a key forefront runner of the sassy men apocalypse, even though you wouldn't be able to tell at the start. super quick-witted, but he's the type to keep his thoughts to himself, but luckily, he gets more comfortable sharing his jokes with you as times go on. blushes super easily, and he hates it because he thinks it ruins his aloof/mysterious guy persona.

[00valentina-writes00]

My God, your writings are wonderful, the way you express yourself in letters should be rewarded with an award

I'm so excited about pregnancy writing. Is there a way to know how Sevika would behave with an injured reader when she is pregnant or when she gives birth to her baby? I thank heaven that put you on my profile, I read this every night before going to sleep (don't judge me for being so weird ￣(=∵=)￣ )

✞⛧ Sevika with a pregnant girl ✞⛧

An: girl I understand (me too fr- I love writing stuff like this)

✞⛧ Sevika is protective as hell, always on guard when you’re around. The idea of you carrying her child brings out a deeper, fiercer side to her.

✞⛧ She’s not great at expressing her feelings verbally but shows her care through actions. For example, when you’re pregnant, she’ll make sure you’re never doing too much, offering to handle any physical tasks.

✞⛧ If you get hurt while pregnant, she’s livid. She’ll immediately jump into action, her protective instincts taking over. Sevika is usually stoic, but if you’re hurt in any way, you’ll see a more vulnerable side of her—concern, anger, fear.

✞⛧ In those moments, Sevika’s eyes will burn with anger, and she’ll make sure to stay by your side until you’re safe and sound. If it’s a more serious injury, she’ll insist on taking care of you herself, even if it means staying up all night.

✞⛧ She’ll be hovering around you during labor, but in her own way—staying close but not overly dramatic. Sevika has a quiet intensity, trying to stay strong for you while she watches you go through something as intense as childbirth

✞⛧ During labor, Sevika has a firm hand on your back, rubbing circles to calm you down, though she’s visibly on edge. She might not say much, but her presence is comforting in a way you can’t quite put into words.

✞⛧ She’s not one for saying sweet things, but you can tell she’s paying attention to every little thing, from your breathing to how you’re holding up.

✞⛧ Her reaction when the baby is born is nothing short of awe. She’s trying to be tough about it, but there’s no hiding how she’s completely taken by this tiny human you both made.

✞⛧ Sevika’s hand is right there when the baby is handed to you, and the way she looks at the two of you—her child, her family—tells you everything you need to know about how much she cares.

✞⛧ After the baby is born, Sevika is surprisingly tender with the little one. She may not be the most openly affectionate person, but with her child, it’s different. You’ll see her carefully hold the baby, as though she’s learning how to be gentle.

✞⛧ She takes on a lot of the heavier work at home, but always with the unspoken promise to keep you both safe and well. She might do things like bring you food or clean the house without you asking, all because she knows you’re doing the most important work: nurturing.

✞⛧ She’s not exactly cuddly, but when the baby’s in your arms, Sevika will give you both soft looks from across the room. Her love for the two of you is clear in her eyes, even if her expression is more reserved than anything.

✞⛧ If the baby cries, Sevika’s instinct is to quickly check and see what’s wrong, almost like she’s scanning the room for danger. She can be a bit paranoid about protecting the baby but has the best of intentions.

✞⛧ Sevika will fight anyone who tries to harm you or your baby, no question. If anyone dares to cross her or her family, they’ll regret it immediately.

✞⛧ When you’re up late with the baby, Sevika will always offer to take the night shift. She knows how hard it is, and though she’s not the best with soothing techniques, her strong, steady presence gives you some peace.

✞⛧ As the baby grows, Sevika will be the kind of mom who’s constantly teaching them, showing them how to be tough, resilient, and smart.

✞⛧ She’ll teach them about the world in a way that’s practical—how to defend themselves, how to survive in a harsh world—but also instill in them a deep sense of loyalty and respect for others.

✞⛧ When the baby takes their first steps, Sevika will act like it’s no big deal, but her eyes will soften just a little. It’s one of those small moments where her pride in her child shows through.

✞⛧ She might not say it often, but you’ll hear her whisper “I love you” to the baby when she thinks you’re not paying attention. It’s a rare moment of softness that she keeps for her family.

✞⛧ She’ll always be the one to ensure that both you and the baby are physically protected. When people in Piltover or Zaun look at you with a hint of judgment, Sevika doesn’t flinch. She gives a glare that makes them think twice.

✞⛧ She’s a very practical mother, not one for over-the-top displays of affection, but the way she looks after the baby shows how deeply she cares.

✞⛧ When the baby gets older, Sevika is there for every milestone, though she might play it off like it’s no big deal. But you’ll catch that proud look she gives when the baby shows their first sign of strength.

✞⛧ Sevika will be the first one to defend the baby’s honor—if someone tries to mess with them, Sevika will be the one to step in and put them in their place.

✞⛧ When you’re resting, Sevika is right there beside you, making sure the baby is fed, happy, and safe while you get the rest you need.

✞⛧ She’s surprisingly sentimental about keepsakes—if you manage to get her to keep something like a baby blanket or a little toy, it’s something she holds onto tightly, even when the baby’s grown.

✞⛧ Despite being a hardened individual, when Sevika sees her child laugh, she can’t help but soften. That sound fills her with something she’s not used to—complete, overwhelming love.

✞⛧ In her quiet moments, you’ll sometimes catch her staring at the baby with that same sense of awe she had when they were born.

✞⛧ Sevika is a fierce protector, but she’s also a caring and capable mother who does her best to provide stability and strength for her family.

✞⛧ She’ll stay up late with the baby, rocking them to sleep in her arms, her stern demeanor softening in the quiet of the night.

✞⛧ Sevika will protect you both fiercely and provide for you, though you’ll often need to coax her into being a little more affectionate. She’s still getting used to showing that side of herself, but for you and the baby, she’ll always go to any length.

[kiemiu]

𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍: 𝓞𝐧 𝓜𝐲 𝓜𝐢𝐧𝐝

pairing kang sae-byeok x fem!reader | wc: 3.4k

summary → sae-byeok can't get you off of her mind, and ji-yeong notices. warnings → none.

(beneath the quiet masterlist )

12:39am

𝐒𝐀𝐄-𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐎�� 𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐃 in bed, her eyes darting across the ceiling decorated with water stains, her fingers splayed across her blanket as she gripped it loosely only to release it, repeating the motion over and over again. Sleep refused to come like it did most nights. Always a lingering reason for why she couldn't sleep. Whether it be the worry of what came next, or the fear of some drug lord kicking down her door because he felt cheated for betting on the wrong girl. No longer was it the acrid scent of bleach seeping in from the locker room next to the employee break room that kept her awake. No, she had long since gotten used to the lingering chemical smell after late-night cleanings at the gym. What kept her from drifting off was the persistent image of you occupying her thoughts.

Sae-Byeok turned to lay on her side, exhaling through her nose as if that would expel the unwanted warmth creeping into her chest, her body exhausted but her mind refusing to quiet. The sheets felt cool against her skin, and the muffled hum of the gym’s old ventilation system filled the silence.

She exhaled sharply, jaw tightening as she shifted her position once again. It was pointless to pretend otherwise. What kept her from drifting off was the persistent image of you occupying her thoughts.

It had started with a simple observation—you had looked more tired than usual today. There had been a weariness in your eyes, subtle but noticeable, a heaviness in your movements that suggested you hadn’t been sleeping well. Sae-Byeok had seen it immediately, even when no one else seemed to. She had watched the way your posture slumped just slightly, how your fingers toyed absentmindedly with the hem of your sleeve.

Sae-Byeok wasn't used to something so small and insignificant as you being tired had stayed in her mind throughout the day, it was strange.

But then, there was the bruise.

A dark, ugly mark decorating your arm, just below the sleeve of your shirt. It hadn’t been there before, she knows it hadn't because it wasn't there the last time she visited when you wore a short-sleeve shirt.

Sae-Byeok was nothing but an observer. Catching sight of it while you were reaching for a spoon, her gaze lingered longer than she intended. A flicker of something unfamiliar twisted in her stomach at the sight. Annoyance? Concern? She wasn’t sure, but she hated the feeling all the same.

She should have said something. Asked.

But what would she have said? Who did that to you? Did someone hurt you? She wasn’t sure what answer she wanted to hear nor was she sure if she was prepared to hear it.

Instead, she had stayed silent, only stealing glances when she thought no one would notice. But the image stuck with her long after, the deep purple of the bruise imprinted in her mind like a phantom stain she couldn’t scrub away.

And now, lying in the quiet of the employee break room, she was still thinking about it. About you.

At first, it was nothing but fleeting worry. Until it drifted off to other things. Small details—harmless things. The way your hair shaped the curve of your face perfectly, the way you pressed your lips together whenever you were lost in thought, the way you always smelled faintly of something sweet despite working with 20+ messy children. But then, like a slow unraveling thread, her mind drifted further, past the point of control. Her thoughts drifting from the bruise on your arm, to your big doe-like eyes.

Her heartbeat faltered for just a quick moment as she pictured your soft gaze..

They held an innocence, a quiet curiosity, but there was something else beneath the surface—something deeper, something unreadable. Sae-Byeok had spent too long trying to decipher that look, trying to figure out if it was ever directed at her in the way only she had imagined and hoped you reciprocated.

And then her thoughts drifted to your lips.

Soft. Full. Always slightly parted, as if you were on the verge of speaking but never quite did. The thought slightly unsettled her as she shifted against the mattress, but she couldn't keep her thoughts away from you.

Her thoughts continued to linger on the soft curve of your lips, the way they might move if you spoke her name in the quiet of the night. Would your voice be as soothing as she imagined? Could it lull her to sleep better than the restless silence surrounding her now?

She wondered how they might feel—if they would be as soft and warm as they looked, if they would move slowly against her own in your own quiet rhythm or if you would take her by surprise.

Have you ever noticed her staring at them? At you?

The thought made something tighten in Sae-Byeok’s chest as she turned once again onto her stomach, pressing her face into her pillow as hard as she could in hopes it could smother the thoughts away. But even in the darkness behind her eyelids and in the softness of her plush pillow, she could only see you.

She hated how you haunted her thoughts, and she hated it even more when you followed her into her dreams.

She barely had time to dwell on herself, let alone anyone else, especially someone as insignificant as a “babysitter” or so she told herself.

No matter how many times she’s tried to shut you out, the maddening truth remained—you lingered in her mind every single day, constantly, and it frustrated her to no end.

Yet, even through her frustration, she couldn’t help but wonder—would your presence ease the restless ache in her bones? If you were by her side, would you run your fingers through her hair, whisper soft reassurances, and hold her close, offering the quiet comfort she didn’t know she needed? Would you make it easier for her to breathe, even just for a moment?

She knew you would. You wouldn't even have to try because everything felt easier around you.

The idea sent a shiver through her, a quiet, unfamiliar ache settling beneath her ribs as she released another restless sigh. Lifting her head from her pillow to press the heels of her hands into her eyes, as if she were trying to scrape the image of you out of her consciousness Silently begging in her head for you to stop haunting her..

She didn’t know why this was happening. Why had you taken up so much space in her mind?

Despite all the times she pushed you away, all the moments she refused to acknowledge you, maybe—just maybe—she didn’t want you to leave.

Maybe she wanted you to stay.

And that realization alone terrified her.

Eventually, her exhaustion had won, slowly pulling her under. But even in sleep, she wasn’t free of you.

You followed her there too—your presence slipping into her dreams like a whisper, threading through the quiet corners of her subconscious. It had been that way ever since the night you first opened your home to her. Since the moment you unknowingly carved a space for yourself in the restless expanse of her mind.

You wrapped around her like a warmth she never realized she had been yearning for, seeping into the hollow spaces she had long convinced herself were unfillable. In her dreams, she let herself sink into that warmth, let herself believe—for just a little while—that it was real. That it was hers to keep. That you were hers to keep. To protect, to love, and to hold.

But the morning was cruel.

The shrill blare of her alarm shattered the illusion, ripping her from sleep with all the subtlety of a knife against glass. Reality yanked her back into the cold, fluorescent-lit sterility of the gym, where the air smelled of lingering bleach and steel, and the walls felt just as unyielding as she had forced herself to become.

The warmth of you faded like a dying ember, slipping through her fingers before she could hold on.

The day began early, the world outside still cloaked in the muted hues of dawn. With a hefty sigh, Sae-Byeok began moving through her morning routine with quiet efficiency—stepping into the cold tile of the women’s locker room, the overhead lights casting a harsh glow against the steel-gray walls.

She let the scalding water of the shower wash over her, steam curling around her like a ghostly embrace. It was a fleeting moment of solitude before the day truly began. By the time she was dressed, her damp hair pulled into a loose ponytail, the gym had begun to stir with the faint hum of early risers.

She met Ji-Yeong in the center of the gym, their movements seamless, familiar. There was no need for words—they had done this routine a hundred times before. Together, they moved with practiced ease, adjusting punching bags so they hung at just the right height, their chains rattling softly with each shift.

The mats needed wiping down, the scent of disinfectant mingling with the lingering musk of sweat and rubber. They checked the gear, ensuring every glove, wrap, and pad was in its place, making sure the space was primed for the trainees who would soon filter in.

It was muscle memory now—preparing the gym for the day ahead, partnered with Ji-yeongs usual sarcastic remarks, tossing playful jabs like she was already in the ring.

“Man, you’re quieter than usual today,” she mused, adjusting the last punching bag before turning to glance at Sae-Byeok. “C’mon, throw a dog a bone here. Am I that unbearable without some back-and-forth?”

Sae-Byeok barely acknowledged her. A noncommittal shrug, a flicker of attention, but nothing more. It wasn’t like she was ever particularly talkative, but today, the silence stretched longer, heavier.

Ji-Yeong huffed, stacking weights onto the rack with exaggerated force. “Great. Guess I’m talking to myself now.”

Sae-Byeok let out a vague sound—half a hum, half a sigh—but her mind was elsewhere. Her hands moved on instinct, tightening wraps, straightening mats, checking the gloves lined up along the wall, but none of it really registered.

Because you were still there. Lingering in her mind like a shadow that refused to fade. Even after hours of sleeping and fighting—both physically and mentally, even through the exhaustion that should’ve drowned out everything else, you remained—woven into the edges of her thoughts, slipping into the quiet spaces she had no control over.

She hated it.

Or at least, she told herself she did.

Ji-Yeong, never one to let a shift in mood go unnoticed, finally turned to face her fully, hands on her hips. “Alright, what’s up with you?”

Sae-Byeok blinked, the question pulling her out of her thoughts. “What?”

Ji-Yeong narrowed her eyes. “Don’t ‘what’ me. You’ve been weird all morning.”

“I’m fine,” Sae-Byeok said, too quickly, too flatly.

Ji-Yeong snorted. “Yeah, okay. And I’m a professional ballerina.” She leaned in, studying her closely, as if trying to read something beyond Sae-Byeok’s carefully guarded expression. “Did something happen?”

“No.”

Ji-Yeong didn’t look convinced. “You sure? Because if you’re secretly planning to rob a bank or something, I’d love to be included.”

Sae-Byeok exhaled sharply through her nose, shaking her head. “You watch too many movies.”

“And you dodge questions like it’s your full-time job,” Ji-Yeong shot back, smirking. She nudged Sae-Byeok with her elbow, a playful yet probing gesture. “Seriously though, if something’s messing with your head, you know you can talk to me, right?”

Sae-Byeok hesitated for half a second—so quick that most people wouldn’t have caught it. But Ji-Yeong wasn’t most people.

Her smirk softened slightly, the teasing edge still there but gentler now. “Just putting it out there. In case, you know, someone is occupying your thoughts more than usual.”

Sae-Byeok tensed. The instinct to deflect, to shut down, to deny, flared up instantly. But she forced herself to keep her expression neutral.

“It’s nothing,” she said, grabbing a towel and turning away before Ji-Yeong could see anything crack through the surface.

Ji-Yeong sighed, stretching her arms over her head as she let the conversation drop—for now.

“Alright, alright,” she relented. “But just so you know, ‘nothing’ doesn’t usually look like you staring off into space every five minutes.” She grinned, slinging an arm around Sae-Byeok’s shoulder for half a second before stepping back. “But hey, keep your secrets. I’ll just be here, suffering in silence, tragically left out of whatever’s messing with your head.”

Sae-Byeok rolled her eyes, but a small—very small—smirk tugged at her lips.

Ji-Yeong caught it.

“Ah-ha! Emotion!” she declared triumphantly, pointing at her. “I knew I’d get something out of you.”

Sae-Byeok shook her head, but before Ji-Yeong could press further, the first few trainees trickled into the gym, breaking whatever thread of conversation they had left.

Ji-Yeong stretched once more, shooting Sae-Byeok a final glance before turning toward the newcomers. “Alright, let’s get to work.”

And just like that, the moment passed.

But even as they slipped back into routine, even as Sae-Byeok focused on the day ahead, she couldn’t shake the truth that had been gnawing at her from the start.

It wasn’t nothing.

And no matter how much she tried to push it away, she knew it wouldn’t stay buried for long.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Hours passed, the steady rhythm of the gym fading as trainees filtered out one by one. The clatter of weights, the sharp echoes of punches meeting pads, the low hum of conversation—all of it slowly gave way to silence, leaving only the faint hum of the overhead lights and the sound of their own breathing.

By closing time, it was just the two of them. Which meant one thing—training together.

Sae-Byeok barely needed to exchange words with Ji-Yeong as they stepped into the ring, slipping into their routine as naturally as breathing. They squared up, circling each other, gauging movements, waiting for the first strike. It was muscle memory now—the sharp snap of a jab, the instinctive dodge, the controlled counter.

But something was off.

Ji-Yeong could tell almost immediately.

Sae-Byeok’s form was the same, her stance solid, her reflexes sharp—but there was a hesitation, a split-second delay in her movements that shouldn’t have been there. She wasn’t fully present.

Ji-Yeong exploited it without mercy. She faked left, then sent a swift jab toward Sae-Byeok’s side, expecting her to dodge. She didn’t.

The impact wasn’t hard, more of a tap than an actual hit, but Ji-Yeong immediately dropped her guard and leaned back against the ropes with an exaggerated sigh.

“Alright, what the hell is up with you today?”

Sae-Byeok exhaled sharply, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her wrist. “Nothing.”

Ji-Yeong’s smirk widened. “Oh, it’s definitely something.” She tapped her chin in mock thought, drawing out the moment. “Let me guess…” She snapped her fingers like she had just solved the greatest mystery of the century. “You got a little crush on someone, don't you?”

Sae-Byeok scoffed, reaching for her water bottle, her movements carefully indifferent.

Ji-Yeong, of course, wasn’t buying it.

“Wait—” Her eyes lit up with sudden mischief, her lips curling into a knowing grin. “Is it a boy?”

The sheer disgust that flickered across Sae-Byeok’s face was all the confirmation Ji-Yeong needed.

She cackled, pointing at her like she had just caught her in a lie. “Ohh, it’s a girl, huh?” She nudged Sae-Byeok’s arm, grinning. “Kinda figured. Never really took you as someone who liked boys anyway.”

Sae-Byeok huffed, rolling her eyes as she took a long, deliberate sip from her water bottle, refusing to dignify Ji-Yeong’s teasing with an answer.

“Hey, no shame in it,” Ji-Yeong said with a casual shrug, unwrapping the tape from her hands and tossing it onto the bench. “If anything, you’ve got good taste. She must be cute if she’s got you spacing out like this.”

Sae-Byeok ignored the remark, focusing instead on shutting down the gym for the night. She moved through the gym with quiet precision, her body on autopilot as she wiped down the last of the equipment, ensuring everything was in place before locking up for the night. The scent of sweat and disinfectant lingered in the air, the steady hum of fluorescent lights casting elongated shadows across the mats. She focused on the routine, on the muscle memory of closing down a space she knew as well as the back of her hand.

Ji-Yeong, of course, didn’t make it easy.

She trailed after her, tossing out playful remarks, nudging at the edges of Sae-Byeok’s silence, waiting for her to crack. It was the same as always—Ji-Yeong’s way of getting under her skin, of making her react, of reminding her that she wasn’t as unreadable as she liked to think she was.

And usually, Sae-Byeok would roll her eyes, brush her off, dismiss her entirely.

But tonight, she didn’t mind.

Because even if Ji-Yeong was teasing, even if she was just poking fun, there was something comforting about the way she noticed things. About the way she never pushed too hard, never pried with the intent to unravel, but instead just existed beside her, offering the kind of easy companionship that Sae-Byeok had never quite known how to accept.

She didn’t have to say anything. Didn’t have to spell out the tangled mess of thoughts she refused to acknowledge. Ji-Yeong already understood, in that frustratingly effortless way of hers.

Sae-Byeok wouldn’t talk about the way her mind had been preoccupied all day, about the way you had taken up space in her thoughts without permission. She wouldn’t admit that her usual focus had been shaken, that there was an unfamiliar warmth lingering beneath her ribs, something unnamed and unsettling.

But Ji-Yeong didn’t need her to.

She just threw out her jokes, her playful nudges, her knowing glances—never demanding anything, never forcing Sae-Byeok to confront what she wasn’t ready to.

And somehow, that was enough.

So Sae-Byeok let her talk. Let her tease. Let her existence fill the space where words might have gone.

Because even if she wouldn’t say it outright, it was nice.

Having someone like Ji-Yeong.

Having someone who knew when to push, and when to simply stay.

With the gym locked up for the night, the world outside greeted them with a sharp contrast—the crisp night air wrapping around their sweat-cooled skin, the distant hum of traffic, the neon glow of streetlights casting long streaks of color onto the pavement. The city was still alive, even at this hour, buzzing with movement and voices that blurred into the background like a song on low volume.

The exhaustion of the day clung to Sae-Byeok’s limbs, but it wasn’t heavy—not in the way that weighed her down. It was the good kind, the kind that came from a body well-used, from muscles worked to their limit, from the familiarity of routine.

Ji-Yeong stretched her arms over her head with an exaggerated groan before stuffing her hands into her hoodie pockets. “Food?”

Sae-Byeok didn’t hesitate. “Obviously.”

They fell into step beside each other, the chill of the night a stark contrast to the heat that still clung to their skin. Sae-Byeok tucked her hands into her hoodie, glancing at Ji-Yeong with a smirk. “You’re paying.”

Ji-Yeong scoffed, shooting her an incredulous look. “Oh, come on. You don’t have any more viper money to spare on little ol’ me?”

Sae-Byeok groaned, tilting her head back. “You know how my last fight went.”

Ji-Yeong chuckled, her grin widening as she bumped her shoulder lightly against Sae-Byeok’s. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. But next time, you better win. I have a taste for Korean BBQ, not some sad, gas station ramen.”

Sae-Byeok huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head as she nudged Ji-Yeong’s elbow in retaliation. “Well, you better start saving up too, then.”

Ji-Yeong clicked her tongue, feigning offense. “Wow. So now I have to treat you?” She sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “I swear, the things I put up with for you…”

Sae-Byeok rolled her eyes, but she didn’t bother hiding the smirk that lingered on her lips.

For a moment, with the cool air easing the tightness in her chest, with Ji-Yeong’s familiar presence beside her, she allowed herself to not fight it.

The thoughts.

The feeling.

The quiet tug of something she wasn’t sure she fully understood.

She didn’t know why you had taken up so much space in her mind—why your presence lingered long after you were gone, why she caught herself searching for you in quiet moments when she should have been focused on anything else.

But maybe… maybe she wasn’t so sure she wanted to fight it anymore.

Maybe, it was something she could get used to.

NEW ENTRY ! NEW ENTRY ! NEW ENTRY ! NEW ENTRY !

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

LEE YOO-MI as JI-YEONG

"what's a life without excitement?"

' 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ' 📷 : @miabcuzz @twicesuuui @kissyslut @kritkalhit @st4rcs @dumbbellxo @theforestchoseme3 @wlvlurvsfimmia @genshinenjoyer @theweirdanimation @ch-3-rry @nenukkjhj @giaqnn @crack240 @pookalicious-hq @laurenkenss @sheinhamood @pooksterrr @bbynai @diorzs @beaaluv @colorfulkittenperfection @yourl0caltrash @kidicaruslover911 @sherryuki-callmeyuki @i0nic02 @knfthxv @mina-has-been-here @monroesturnns @lyuuw @brooke-rainbow @freakykkuras @womanl0ver @we1rdth0ughts

[onceonafullmoon]

And they were roomates

Sae x GN! Reader

Arranged Marriage AU, slightly suggestive at the end, fluff, typed out in like an hour so it might be ass

Sae’s charming, in a typical book stereotypic way, his blunt, chilling demeanor, he’s like something out of a billionaire romance novel you’d pick up, but he’s also not. He watches Crayon Shin-chan, he cracks jokes (though sometimes you can’t tell if he’s serious or not), and he’s a massive weirdo (he finds the strangest things intriguing, an example being his choices of friends). And maybe that’s why you found yourself falling for him, because he’s a complete dork at times despite everything about his initial impression screaming otherwise.

Your relationship with Sae has always been quite stiff, but it’s not something you ever really minded when you thought about it.

Arranged marriages aren’t exactly supposed to be considered the prime of romance, but you haven’t really gone into this thinking that it would be some sort of romantasy book. At best, it’s a slightly awkward roommate situation with a healthy dose of boring that you’d find in any dorm situation.

The only difference is that you share a bed with a pillow between the two of you, (for your comfort more than his, you suppose he wouldn’t care either way) and the fact that his parents and yours will occasionally pester the two of you about your marital relations.

But other than that, it’s the standard roommate situation. Adjusting to each others schedules (he goes for runs at ungodly hours in the morning), setting rules (you’re not allowed to hog the shower in the evenings) and occasional roommate bonding activities (you and him have movie nights, and you strongly uphold the idea that Taxi Driver is a shit movie), it’s normal.

But you notice that lately, things have skewed slightly, you find yourself a bit too eager to see him when he comes home from  practices, discover yourself taking over for the cooking when you know he’ll be late, looking forward to hanging out with him. You notice that nowadays you don’t even bother to put the pillow down between the two of you when you go to bed.

It takes you a good while to realize, but you know that deep in your heart it was obvious. You have a crush on your husband.

And it’d be so silly of you to pursue that, these lingering feelings of affection, when you know he’s only in it for familial obligations, but still, you can’t help but fall for him.

Sae’s charming, in a typical book stereotypic way, his blunt, chilling demeanor, he’s like something out of a billionaire romance novel you’d pick up, but he’s also not. He watches Crayon Shin-chan, he cracks jokes (though sometimes you can’t tell if he’s serious or not), and he’s a massive weirdo (he finds the strangest things intriguing, an example being his choices of friends). And maybe that’s why you found yourself falling for him, because he’s a complete dork at times despite everything about his initial impression screaming otherwise.

Anyway, it all comes to a head one night as the both of you are baking in the kitchen, your hands and clothes stained with flour as you set to work rolling out the dough for cinnamon rolls, him being occupied with the creating the batter for the pumpkin bar recipe you showed him (you knew he wouldn’t eat any of your baked goods on the account of his diet, so you compromised with this). It’s simple and domestic, and you can’t help the way your heart races slightly in your chest as you try to focus on the way you carefully push your rolling pin across the expanse of the tan dough.

You’ve been absentmindedly chatting for sometime when suddenly the topic of your marriage is brought up, and you laugh as you tell him that you weren’t exactly sure what marriage would be, but you didn’t expect it to be like this.

“Is it worse or better?” Sae asks, pouring the batter into the tray carefully, using his spatula to maneuver the liquid out.

You pause to consider this as you reach over for your brown sugar and cinnamon mixture to spread over the dough. 

“It’s not worse than what I thought the worst case scenario would be, but it’s not better than the best case scenario.” You answer, looking at him with a slight smile.

He looks up at you then, mildly curious as he sets his bowl down, the batter spread out evenly in the pan in a way that’s so infuriatingly perfect compared to your slightly clumpy spread and speaks, his cool tone betraying nothing of his own feelings on the matter.

“And what would have been your best case scenario?”

You’re tempted to respond comically, an image of an Adonis with a heart of gold and the charisma of a prince flitting through your mind, your imaginary husband having both the ability to lead a university lecture and yet somehow also only listen to you during arguments, but you shrug and decide to be honest. 

“I think my best case scenario would have had a bit more romance.” You say, starting in on carefully rolling up your dough. 

“Not that we aren’t madly attracted to each other.” You add on as an afterthought, a slightly bitter smile on your face as you consider your own one sided secret infatuation. “Which reminds me, when exactly are you going to fall in love with me?”

You can already see his reaction, the blank look he’ll give you when you bother him too much with your jokes, a dry scoff leaving his lips as he stares at you with a disbelieving demeanor, probably paired with an eye roll if he’s feeling particularly catty.

“I already have.” He says instead, making you pause in your actions, your dough half rolled as you look up at him.

You can’t usually tell when Sae is joking, it’s true, but you can tell when he’s really serious about something, the way his body shifts to face you as he begins to talk, even the slow smooth candace of his tone, but the most important give away is the way his eyes narrow slightly, the green in them becoming even more piercing.

For a moment, you’re stuck there, frozen in place as the implications of the words really start to sink in, awe struck by the realization that what you wanted, what was something so close, yet so impossibly far away, was right there in your grasp.

And then the oven beeps, and the world resumes motion as you watch him absentmindedly put the tray inside, clueless to how you’re feeling as he shuts the door in place.

“I’ll be back later then, I’m going to shower.” He says, and you can’t tell if you’re still breathing. 

It must be nice being emotionally dense you think, but as you see a hint of a smirk on his face you realize that you might be wrong about his sensitivity towards emotions.

“You should be more firm with your boundaries starting now though.” He says over his shoulder. “I’ve got needs too and I won’t be able to hold back if you keep forgetting to put that pillow down.”

The words echo in your mind as you look after him as he leaves, your dough half rolled into a tube as you struggle to process what just took place. Eventually, you manage to form a single thought as you stand there, face flushed.

Asshole.

[etclouie]

day two — late night walks

ᯓ ꨄ︎ — summary; on a late night walk with your best friend when things shift between you both (Juice Ortiz x fem!reader)

ᯓ ꨄ︎ — warnings; friends to lovers (kinda), they both confess feelings, mutual pinning, juice kinda being scared to admit his feelings, that’s it i think

ᯓ ꨄ︎ — word count; 598

ᯓ ꨄ︎ — a/n; i want juice so bad

prev day | next day louie’s 14 days of love | main masterlist

you and Juice were walking side by side, having managed to pull him away from the clubhouse to spend time with him again. 

both of you sharing jokes and laughs as you walked, bumping into the other every odd step. 

the air was cool yet there was an odd warmth to it, that only seemed to follow you and Juice. the feeling of it was like a hug that pulled you closer and closer to him, your body curling into his side. 

everything about tonight was so familiar but so new at the same time, and you didn’t want it to end. 

“i wish we could do this for the rest of our lives”

you told, feeling him come to a stop before turning you to face him. his eyes searching yours as his feelings bounced around inside him, his mind running faster than it had all night. 

because the one thing Juice hadn’t told you, was that deep down he wanted the rest of his life with you. 

but with the way you were looking at him, eyes soft and loving—he knew now was the right time. 

“then let’s do it”

he told, giving a half smile as your expression was replaced by that of confusion. 

when you didn’t say anything, he sighed. the feeling of ruining your friendship running through him now instead the previous feelings of telling you the truth, to have kept it hidden deep down. 

a deep anxiety churned in his stomach, worry settling in as you finally replied. 

“you want to be in a dark street laughing for the rest of our lives?”

something akin to a sigh of relief left him, worry easing ever so slightly as he pinched at the bridge of his nose. 

his eyes closing briefly, thinking of his thoughts before meeting your eyes again. he gave you a half smile as he murmured out.  

“if that’s what you want, i just—i wish you’d stay in my life forever”

he stammered over his words, unable to get them out properly as his thoughts ran a million miles a minute. 

your eyes continued to search his, as he  mumbled out again. 

“i want the rest of my life with you”

the way he said it you could hear the worry creeping back in, his eyes flicking away from you as he gulped. 

a pit of dread settling in his belly, hearing him sigh again as the thoughts of truly ruining your friendship filled him. 

you waited a minute, blinking at him in disbelief. his admission making a warmth spread through your body before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. 

his arms cautiously wrapped around you, the hug unlike any of the other hugs you’d shared before. 

“want to know a secret?”

you whispered, pulling your head back to meet his eyes. waiting until he nodded slowly to whisper out to him, soothing one of your hands across his back. 

“i want the rest of my life with you too”

he flashed you a look of disbelief, unable to believe that you felt the same way. he shook his head, ready to retort when you pressed your lips to his. 

kissing him softly and feeling him melt into you, cradling his jaw in both of your hands and soothing your thumbs across his cheeks. 

“i love you Juice”

that made him melt further into you, stealing another kiss before he lay his head on your shoulder. 

his arms wrapped tighter around you than before as he whispered back. 

“God, i love you too”

reblogs are highly appreciated !

[theodorenmyth]

I just read 'people you know' and it's so good !!! I was just wondering if you could make an alternate ending (I love the angst but fluff is so cute!!!) with Mattheo and Theo realising what they've done and apologised to y/n but he Makes them work for it until he feels like they're truly sorry, then it works outs. 🙏🙏 Thanks sooo muchhh ♡♡♡

People you know

Pairings : Mattheo R. x GN!Reader x Theodore N.

Summary : Mattheo and Theo work to earn back your trust, proving they’ve changed. Slowly, you let them in again. One night, after carrying you to bed, you ask them to stay. Holding you close, they realize—they’ll never lose you again.

A/N : maybe this one will heal your hearts.... I think

Warnings : Angst, fluffy ending

Word count : 1k+

They didn’t think it would ever come to this.

Mattheo and Theodore had convinced themselves that no matter how much damage had been done, no matter how deep the wounds had cut, you would always find your way back to them. You always had before.

But not this time.

This time, you had replaced them.

At first, they didn’t take it seriously. They saw you hanging around Casper Rosier and Elias Avery and thought it was a temporary thing, that you were just passing time. But then you stopped looking at them. Stopped waiting for them. Stopped acting like they were the center of your world.

And it hurt.

It hurt when Mattheo saw Casper drape an arm around your shoulders.

It hurt when Theo saw Elias steal bits of your food at lunch like it was his right.

It hurt when they saw you at the courtyard under the tree—their tree—with them.

They had no one to blame but themselves.

Pansy had called them out on it first. "You let them go, and now they found people who actually treat them right."

"We didn’t let them go," Theo had muttered, but his voice was weak.

"Yes, you did," she’d said with finality. "And now they’re happy without you."

They should have taken the hint. Should have accepted that they had lost their chance.

But then Mattheo saw you at the Three Broomsticks, sandwiched between Casper and Elias, laughing, and something in him snapped.

The next thing you knew, Mattheo was looming over your table, his hands braced against the wood. "Alright," he said, voice low and sharp. "I think it’s time we talk."

You raised your brows, unimpressed. "Talk? Now you want to talk?"

Theo appeared beside him, looking just as tense. "We should have talked a long time ago," he admitted.

Casper leaned back lazily. "You’ve got some nerve, Riddle."

Mattheo ignored him. "Please," he said, voice tight. "Just five minutes."

You stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. "Fine."

Mattheo and Theo led you outside into the cold, their hearts pounding.

"You hate us," Theo said quietly.

You crossed your arms. "I don’t hate you. I just don’t trust you anymore."

The words stung.

Mattheo exhaled sharply. "We were assholes," he admitted. "We fucked up. We got caught up in our own shit and didn’t see what we were doing to you until it was too late."

You studied him carefully. "Why are you telling me this now?"

Theo ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily. "Because seeing you happy without us fucking killed us." His voice cracked slightly. "Because we miss you, and we know we don’t deserve you back, but we’re selfish enough to want to try anyway."

You felt something in your chest tighten, but you weren’t going to let them off that easily.

"You don’t get to just say sorry and have everything go back to normal," you said. "You hurt me. You made me feel like I didn’t matter. If you want me back, you have to prove that I do."

Mattheo and Theo looked at each other before nodding firmly.

"We’ll do whatever it takes," Mattheo said. "Just�� don’t shut us out completely."

You hesitated, then gave a small nod. "You can start by earning my time back."

And with that, you walked away, leaving them standing in the cold.

But this time, they weren’t going to let you slip away again.

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

They weren’t expecting you to forgive them easily.

Honestly, Mattheo and Theo would have preferred if you had just screamed at them, cursed them out, anything but what you actually did—make them earn you back.

And oh, did you make them work for it.

It started small. They weren’t allowed to sit next to you in the Great Hall, but you let them hover nearby. You wouldn’t wait for them after class, but you didn’t speed up when they walked beside you. You let them talk, let them try, but you made no promises.

And yet, that small sliver of hope was enough for them.

They did everything.

Mattheo would leave sweets on your desk before class, casually acting like he had no idea how they got there. Theo would pass you notes, little things like ‘You look nice today.’ or ‘This class is unbearable without you talking to me.’

They remembered things. Things they should have always remembered.

Theo pulled you aside before Potions one day, placing a small, wrapped package in your hands. "I know your hands get cold, and I saw these at Hogsmeade."

Inside were a pair of enchanted gloves, warm as if you were always near a fireplace.

Mattheo, as dramatic as ever, threw his scarf around you when he saw you shivering. "Can’t have you freezing to death. I refuse to grieve fashionably."

And slowly, you started letting them back in.

You allowed Theo to sit across from you in the library instead of a table away. You let Mattheo walk with you to class without rolling your eyes. You started responding to their little notes with snarky comments, making them grin like idiots.

The real shift happened one night in the common room.

You had fallen asleep on the couch, your book slipping from your fingers. Theo and Mattheo had been sitting nearby, both watching you with quiet longing.

Theo was the first to move. Carefully, cautiously, he reached over and brushed a strand of hair from your face. "They used to fall asleep on us all the time," he murmured.

Mattheo swallowed. "I miss that."

Theo hesitated, then whispered, "We should bring them to bed."

Mattheo nodded, and before he could second-guess himself, he slipped his arms under you, lifting you as gently as he could. You stirred slightly but didn’t wake, instead curling into his warmth instinctively.

Mattheo’s heart clenched.

Theo followed closely behind, and when they finally tucked you into bed, they both hesitated before stepping away.

And then, still half-asleep, you murmured, "Stay?"

They froze.

Theo swallowed. "Are you sure?"

You sighed sleepily, shifting to make room. "I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t."

They didn’t waste a second.

Theo slid in on one side, his warmth familiar and comforting. Mattheo took the other, draping an arm over you protectively.

For the first time in months, it felt right.

Mattheo exhaled against your hair. "Missed this," he whispered.

Theo pressed a kiss to your shoulder. "Missed you."

You sighed, finally, finally relaxing in their arms. "I missed you too."

And just like that, they knew—this time, they weren’t going to lose you again.

[luvfae]

LINES CROSSED

summary: thanos has always had a thing for his best friends girlfriend.

pairings: thanos (choi su-bong) x f!reader (nam-gyu x f!reader)

warnings: cheating, swearing, smut, fingering, alcohol use

Thanos had always noticed you.

Maybe it was because you were Nam-Gyu’s girlfriend—off-limits, untouchable, the one thing he wasn’t supposed to want. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way your laughter filled a room like it belonged there, the way you chewed your bottom lip when you were deep in thought, the way your eyes sometimes dimmed when Nam-Gyu wasn’t looking.

He could treat you better…

Okay, that might be a lie. But he definitely couldn’t treat you worse than Nam-Gyu does.

That’s probably why he always insisted on sleeping over.

Tonight wasn’t any different—except for the fact that Nam-Gyu had passed out on the couch, empty bottles clinking softly when he shifted in his drunken sleep. The TV flickered with some late-night rerun, casting dull blue shadows across the room.

Thanos found you in the kitchen, sleeves pushed up, washing the dishes left over from dinner. The soft sound of running water mixed with the faint hum of the refrigerator. You looked tired, your face drawn in a way that made something sharp twist in his chest.

He stepped closer, leaning against the bench at first, just watching. Then, without thinking—or maybe thinking too much—he moved behind you, his presence unmistakable as he stood close enough that you could feel the heat of him at your back.

You stiffened slightly, your hands pausing in the soapy water before resuming, slower this time.

“Thanos,” you whispered, your voice a soft warning, glancing over your shoulder toward the living room. Towards your boyfriend. “Why are you standing so close to me?”

A crooked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, though his heart felt heavier than it should. “Relax,” he murmured, his voice low, almost tender. “I’m just… helping.”

“Helping?” you echoed, a dry laugh escaping before you could stop it.

His hands hovered for a second, uncertain, before resting lightly on your waist. Just enough to feel the warmth through the thin fabric of your shirt, just enough to make your breath hitch.

“This isn’t—” you started, but the words caught somewhere between your throat and your heart.

Thanos leaned in, his breath warm against the shell of your ear. “He doesn’t see you,” he said quietly, not as an accusation, just a fact. “Not the way I do.”

You closed your eyes, fingers tightening around the edge of the sink. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” His voice was softer now, almost a whisper. “Tell me you don’t feel it.”

You turned to face him then, the space between you impossibly small. His eyes met yours, filled with something raw and unspoken. He wasn’t smiling anymore.

“We shouldn’t…” your voice broke slightly, but you didn’t move away.

He reached up, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, lingering a second too long. His touch was light, but the weight of it felt like gravity pulling you under.

His free hand lingered at your waist, fingers splayed like he was memorizing the shape of you, hesitant yet deliberate. Slowly, his touch drifted lower, tracing the curve of your hip, the warmth of his palm seeping through the thin fabric.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding—not just from the closeness but from everything unspoken hanging between you.

“What are you doing?” you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper, shaky and uncertain.

But he didn’t stop. His hand slid beneath the hem of your shirt, fingers grazing the bare skin of your stomach, trailing downward with a feather-light touch that sent a shiver through you.

His hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pajama pants, not moving—just resting there, a quiet pressure against your skin. It wasn’t bold or hurried. It was deliberate. Teasing. Testing.

The warmth of his palm was enough to send a ripple of awareness through you, your breath hitching in the silence between you. He didn’t push further, didn’t demand anything. He just stayed there, like he was waiting—for permission, for a sign, for you.

Your fingers gripped the edge of the countertop, knuckles white, as if grounding yourself could silence the noise in your head.

“Thanos,” you whispered, his name catching in your throat like a secret you weren’t supposed to keep.

But his only response was a quiet exhale against your skin, his fingertips pressing just slightly deeper—not enough to cross the line, but enough to remind you how thin that line really was.

And the worst part? You didn’t want him to move his hand.

You wanted him to stay right there.

You squeezed your eyes shut, torn between the guilt twisting in your chest and the undeniable pull that had been there for longer than you wanted to admit.

His forehead rested against the side of your head, his breath warm against your temple. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice rough, strained like it cost him something just to ask.

But you didn’t.

And that was the problem.

“Keep going,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could catch them, fragile and breathless—an admission, a surrender, a fracture in the loyalty you thought you had for Nam-Gyu.

Thanos didn’t hesitate. A slow, knowing smirk curved at the corner of his mouth, but there was something else in his eyes—something darker, something that said he’d wanted this for longer than he’d ever admit.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t gentle either. It was somewhere in between—like he was testing the waters and claiming them all at once. His hand stayed where it was, the heat of his touch anchoring you in the chaos of it all.

Your hands found his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, as if holding on could somehow ground you in a reality that was already slipping away.

His lips trailed from your mouth to the edge of your jaw, down to the curve of your neck, breathing you in like he was trying to memorize the moment. His fingers moved with the same quiet intensity, a slow, deliberate rhythm that unraveled you piece by piece.

A soft, involuntary sound escaped your lips—a breathy, broken thing that made him pause just long enough to glance at you, his gaze sharp and unreadable. Then, without a word, he picked up where he left off, his touch precise, like he knew exactly what you needed before you did.

And in that stolen moment, with the world narrowing down to just his touch, his breath, his presence—you didn’t think about Nam-Gyu.

You only thought about Thanos.

His fingers worked your folds with practiced precision, working you patiently until you were soaked beneath his touch.

His fingers curled with precision, finding that spot—the one that unraveled you in an instant, stealing the breath from your lungs and sending a sharp rush of heat through your entire body. It was effortless for him, like he knew exactly where to touch, exactly how to make you fall apart.

“Shit,” you gasped, your voice a fragile whisper, trembling at the edges. Your legs felt unsteady, the tension coiling tighter with every subtle movement, your body reacting before your mind could catch up.

Your fingers gripped the counter for support, knuckles white, as your core clenched around him, a wave of sensation crashing over you, sharp and blinding-like the world had narrowed down to nothing but his touch, his presence, and the way he made you feel.

Thanos didn’t let up, his movements deliberate, like he was reading every reaction etched across your face, every shudder that rippled through you. His breath was warm against the side of your neck, uneven now, like he wasn’t as unaffected as he tried to seem.

Your grip on the counter tightened even more, the cool surface grounding you while the rest of you felt like it was unraveling at the seams. The room seemed too quiet, save for the soft, ragged breaths you both couldn’t control.

He leaned in closer, his lips grazing the edge of your jaw, not quite a kiss, more like a question he already knew the answer to. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice rough, low, filled with something dark and satisfied. “Falling apart for me.”

You didn’t have the strength—or maybe the will—to argue. Your head tilted back slightly, giving in to the pull, your body betraying every protest your mind wanted to form.

But then, a noise.

A quiet shuffle from the living room.

Nam-Gyu.

The weight of reality crashed back over you like cold water. Your breath hitched, your heart pounding now for an entirely different reason. Thanos froze, his hand still, his eyes flickering toward the half-open door.

You both stayed like that, suspended in the tension, not touching but not pulling away either.

And in that moment, you weren’t sure which was worse—being caught or the fact that part of you didn’t care.

Panic suddenly surged through you, sharp and cold. Without thinking, you pushed Thanos away, your hands flat against his chest. His warmth lingered even as the distance grew between you.

You hastily adjusted your clothes, fingers trembling as you smoothed out the fabric, trying to erase any trace of what had just happened. Your heart raced, not from what Thanos had done, but from how badly you didn’t want to stop.

Seconds later, Nam-Gyu stumbled into the kitchen, his steps heavy and unsteady. His eyes were glassy, words slurred as he squinted at the two of you. “What are you two doing?”

You forced a smile, turning back to the sink, the cold water biting at your fingertips as if trying to wash away more than just the dishes. “Cleaning up,” you replied, keeping your voice light, casual. You were grateful for the haze in his eyes because if he’d been sober, he would’ve noticed the flush on your cheeks, the way your hands shook just slightly.

Thanos leaned lazily against the counter, not a trace of guilt in his expression. “Just keeping your girl company,” he said smoothly, that same infuriating smirk tugging at his lips.

Nam-Gyu grinned, oblivious. “Wanna play a video game?”

Thanos pushed off the counter with an easy nod. “Yeah, sure.”

As he passed Nam-Gyu, he threw a glance over his shoulder—right at you. His eyes dark, filled with something unspoken, something dangerous. And then, as if it wasn’t enough, he brought his fingers to his lips, slow and deliberate, sucking them clean with a lazy confidence that made your knees weak all over again.

You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the sink like it could anchor you.

When they disappeared into the living room, laughter echoing behind them, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You leaned against the counter, closing your eyes for a moment, your heart still racing, your thoughts tangled in knots.

The problem wasn’t just what had happened.

The problem was that you weren’t done.

And the ache settling deep in your chest—and lower—told you exactly that.

[slytherin-pen]

In the Wake of Chaos

pairing: Cassian x Reader

word count: 2k

warnings: canon typical violence, negative self-talk, attempted r*pe

The training ring was empty save for the faint whisper of wind through the mountains and the dull thud of your fists against the punching bag. Your knuckles, already raw and bleeding, screamed in protest, but you didn’t care. You’d been at it for hours, the pain a distant echo compared to the churning turmoil inside you.

The memory was still fresh—too fresh. The alleyway, the bitter touch of the male’s hands, the terror that had gripped you when you realized how easily he could overpower you. You’d managed to escape, but the fear hadn’t left you. It had settled deep in your bones, gnawing at you until the only thing you could do was fight. Fight until the fear turned into something else, something you could control.

You were beyond drunk, your body filled with a heat only alcohol could provide. The music and chatter inside Rita’s blended into an incomprehensible hum as you walked to the exit. It had been hours since you arrived with the intention of forgetting your latest failures. The only mission you’ve accomplished as of late. You swayed on your feet, hands gripping the stair rail as your breaths turned into a cloud before you. It was freezing out, but thanks to your alcohol-induced internal warmth, you didn’t even think to regret not bringing a coat. As you rounded the corner, a slimy hand covered your mouth—muffled your scream.

“Don’t worry, doll. The quicker you behave, the sooner it’ll be over,” your attacker said. His voice was raspy like he had been inhaling smoke recently. Blonde hair receding towards the back of his head and with eyes so dark they looked black as they ogled your struggling form. The brick wall behind you bit into your exposed shoulders, and your thrashing only accentuated the pain.

You were too drunk for this. Your thoughts were hazy and everything felt as if it was in slow-motion, though you knew it wasn’t. The male did not take his time lifting your dress and putting a leg between your thighs as he ground into you. His hand found your throat and the lack of oxygen to your brain only served to disorient you further.

What do you do? What do you do? Everything was dark and cold, and your vision was fading as you struggled to breathe in air. You had cut off the bond hours ago, not wanting Cassian to feel your self-loathing as you drank away your sorrows. That meant he wouldn’t feel you now. The panic, the pain. You thought of what he would think about all of this. Disappointment, most likely. For getting yourself into this situation in the first place, for freezing rather than fighting like he had taught you so many times. You tried to remove your arms from his grip, but he was twice your size. His belly protruded out from under his shirt and rubbed against yours, your eyes barely reaching his chest.

How would this end? Would Cassian wake in the morning to find you still not home? Would he scour Velaris looking for you only to find your body in some alley next to a bar? No. You wouldn’t do that to him. You were the mate to the General of the Night Court. Imagine the jokes people would make if they found out your life ended because of your stupid mistake, because of your failing.

As the male stepped back to undo his pants, hunching over to fiddle with the buckle, you reared your head back and slammed it into his. Not the smartest move, as you were now seeing stars in your vision, but it was enough to make the oaf of a male stumble backward. You bolted. The world was spinning, and you grazed your hand over every solid surface you could find to keep your balance. You nearly broke an ankle every couple of steps and after a glance behind you to ensure the male wasn’t on your tail, you yanked them off. Gravel stones engrained themselves in the soles of your feet, but you didn’t stop. You didn’t stop until enough air had found its way into your lungs and the dizziness subsided, then you winnowed.

You hadn’t told anyone about the attack. What was there to say? That you, thanks to your decision to go out alone and distracted, had been easy prey? That despite all your training and all your effort, you were still vulnerable? You had winnowed to the Townhouse first last night. As you worked to calm your racing heart lest Cassian catch on to something being wrong the minute you’re in the same room as him, you found Mor’s makeup bag that she kept in her old room. You covered up the bruise around your neck and threw a sweater on over your dress to hide the angry, bleeding skin on your back. Once you arrived at the House of Wind, you thanked the Mother for Cassian sleeping like a rock. He couldn’t ask any questions if he wasn’t awake. After changing into long-sleeved pajamas and crawling into bed next to him, you stared at the ceiling for the rest of the night listening to your mate snore peacefully next to you.

You cursed under your breath as your punch landed wrong, sending a fresh wave of pain up your arm. You were exhausted, muscles trembling with the effort to keep going, but you didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

“Enough.”

The word cut through the air like a whip, and you froze, your fist hovering in mid-air. Cassian stood at the edge of the ring, arms crossed over his broad chest, wings flaring slightly behind him. His hazel eyes crinkled with concern as he took in your state; sweat-soaked, bruised, and bleeding. You managed to avoid him this morning, feigning sleep as he woke with the sun like every other morning. You waited for him to leave to check on the Illyrian camps before setting off for training of your own.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low, edged with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Training,” you snapped, dropping your fist and turning away, wiping sweat from your brow with a trembling hand.

“This isn’t training,” he countered, stepping into the ring. “This is self-destruction.”

You felt a flash of anger, but the guilt and shame that had been festering since last night quickly swallowed it. “It’s nothing, Cass.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he said, his tone gentle but firm as he moved closer. “Tell me what happened.”

The blood drained from your face. “Nothing happened,” you said, a little too high-pitched. “It’s just been an off week. You have those yourself now and then.”

His eyes narrowed as he watched you shift on your feet. You looked like a startled deer, frozen in place and staring at him with wide eyes. “Sweetheart,” he said more firmly this time. “I know when something is up with you. We’ve all had our off weeks, but I’ve never seen you like this.”

“Like what? I’m training a little harder, Cass. It’s not a big deal, just drop it.” As you turned back to the punching bag, a hand found your wrist. You forgot where you were, flashbacks of last night assaulting your mind. A gasp left your lips as you snatched your hand away and stumbled backward.

“I-” Cassian started. His eyes were shimmering with worry, glancing at you and then back at his still outstretched hand. “You need to tell me what happened. I’m not asking anymore, sweetheart.”

You clenched your fists, willing yourself to keep it together, but the exhaustion and fear finally shattered your resolve. Not to mention, you couldn’t lie to your mate. “Last night, outside Rita’s,” you began, your voice cracking with barely contained emotion. “I was trying to leave… and some male… he grabbed me. I got away, but—” You shook your head, unable to finish the sentence as the memories threatened to overwhelm you. You were hyperventilating now, stuck between the present and the memories.

Cassian’s expression shifted from concern to something darker, his jaw tightening as he took slow steps toward you. “He hurt you?”

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “Not really. I just… I can’t stop thinking about how easily he could have.” You met Cassian’s eyes, finally letting him see the fear and shame you’d been carrying. “I didn’t fight hard enough. I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings, and it’s my own fault, I—”

“Stop,” Cassian interrupted, his voice hard and commanding. He closed the distance between you in a few strides, placing a gentle but firm hand on your shoulder. “You got away. That’s what matters. And it is not your fault that some male tried to take advantage of you.”

You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened just enough to keep you there, grounding you. “It is my fault,” you whispered. “I was drunk and alone. I should have known better.”

“Look at me,” he demanded, waiting until you lifted your gaze to his. “It is not your fault. You are allowed to get drunk, you are allowed to go off on your own, and you are allowed to do whatever you damn well please. What is not okay is males attacking females in the street.”

His words chipped away at the walls you’d built around yourself, and you felt tears prick at your eyes. “But what if it happens again?” you asked, your voice small, betraying the fear you hadn’t wanted to acknowledge.

Cassian’s expression softened, his thumb brushing gently over your shoulder. “It won’t,” he said, his voice steady. “Because we’re going to make sure you’re ready for anything. We’ll run through every scenario you can think of until you’re so confident you could take down anyone, no matter their size.”

You bit your lip, feeling the tears slip down your cheeks despite your best efforts. “Cassian, I…”

He pulled you into a hug, his muscular arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace that made you feel safe for the first time since the attack. “But first,” he murmured into your hair, “you need to rest. You won't be any good to yourself if you keep going like this.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue, your body sagging against him as the adrenaline drained away, leaving you feeling utterly exhausted. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you finally let go of the need to be strong, if only for a little while.

Cassian guided you over to the bench at the side of the training ring, sitting you down and grabbing a first aid kit from one of the nearby shelves. “Let me see your hands,” he said tenderly, kneeling in front of you.

You hesitated, but the look in his eyes was so filled with worry and care that you found yourself obeying, holding out your bruised and bloodied knuckles. Cassian winced as he saw the damage you’d done to yourself, but he said nothing, just started carefully cleaning the wounds with a soft cloth and applying a healing salve.

“I don’t blame you for going out,” he murmured as he worked, his touch gentle but efficient. “But why didn’t you come home? I thought you had still been on your mission when I went to bed. If I had known you were in trouble—” he shook his head before looking up at you, “I would have been there.”

You released a heavy sigh. “I didn’t want you to know I was back yet. I closed off the bond because I didn’t want you to feel my emotions. The mission went to shit, thanks to me making a mistake. Seems to be a common theme for me.”

That earned a glare from Cassian before he resumed wrapping a bandage around your hand. “You’re too hard on yourself. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, including me, Rhys, and even Az.” He tucked the bandage in before grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You cannot beat yourself up about it, only learn from it. You want to go to bar and drink until you’re numb, fine, but don’t shut me out. Ever. I’d rather be sitting next to you, offering whatever support I can, than find out later that my mate needed me and I wasn’t there. Understood?”

You nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry.”

He stood up and kissed your forehead before sitting next to you and bringing you into his arms. “You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I didn’t realize you feel this way about yourself, but we’re just going to add that to the list of things to work on, because you deserve to know how amazing you are.”

A tear ran down your cheek and he swiped it away with his thumb. “Thank you,” you whispered, feeling more vulnerable than ever, but also safe—truly safe—with your mate by your side.

He smiled, a soft, reassuring smile that made you feel like everything might actually be okay. “Anytime,” he said, his voice full of warmth and sincerity. “You’re not alone in this, remember that. We’re a team, and we’re going to get through this together.”

After sitting there for a of couple minutes relaxing in Cassian’s arms as you watched the clouds move across the sky he spoke again. “Let’s get you cleaned up and some food in you. After that, we’ll figure out our next steps.”

You nodded, allowing him to help you up, his arm around your shoulders as he guided you inside the house. For the first time since that male grabbed you, you felt like you could breathe again, like the weight you’d been carrying was finally lifting.

And if Cassian showed up at the dinner table later that evening with bruised knuckles after hunting that male down, you were none-the-wiser.

[orieriee]

Chapter 13 ✦ Three years

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Sypnosis: Y/N L/N is a special shaman from a jujutsu family. Y/N was sent to Tokyo to go on missions to prove their worth as the next heir. With the ability of 'flow', a cursed technique that allows its user to see and manipulate forces of energy freely. Y/N stumbled across Geto Suguru amidst a dark aura, carrying a weight of chaotic and dark energy. Will Y/N be able to help Geto overcome his turmoil? Will Y/N fulfill the lifelong anticipation and succeed in becoming the next heir?

Time setting: 2007, a year after Amanai Riko's death, before Geto Suguru's breaking point. gn!reader. I use they/them pronounce for neutrality.

Disclaimer: This will be a slight crossover with chainsaw man because I needed a mentor figure who is not known in Jujutsu Kaisen. I do not own any of the characters from Jujutsu Kaisen or Chainsaw Man. The characters belong to Gege Akutami as the creator of Jujutsu Kaisen and Tatsuki Fujimoto as the creator of Chainsaw Man. I only own the story plot of this work of fiction. I will also mix in a written story for the plot so it's not just the SMAU story. Also english isn't my first language so excuse any grammar errors in the story (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

"Geto..."

You arrived at the park near the shrine to find Geto sitting on one of the swings. It was late and night and the quiet atmosphere felt heavy with unspoken words and lingering emotions.

You sensed that he's a bit agitated, and you offered your hand in front of him, trying to lift up his mood through physical contact with your cursed technique.

"Geto?"

"Don't try to lift up my mood now Y/N. Let me... Stay this way for a bit." Geto's voice came out in a weary whisper, his eyes fixed on the ground, avoiding the comfort you offered. You retrieved back your hand and sighed as you sat down on the swing next to him.

"I'm here for you if you want to... Talk your feelings out. I'm listening." you reassured him, "I'm not going anywhere."

"... But you are." Geto spoke up in a somber tone.

"I just... don’t understand why you can’t let me visit. I mean, I thought... At least we're getting closer.” Geto looked away.

The tension tightened in the air as you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his frustration seep into you.

“It’s not that simple, Geto. It's not that I don't trust you...” the words caught in your throat as were unable to continue and think of a fair excuse for him.

"Is it because I'm not strong enough? Are people after you? Is it because I failed in protecting someone else?" His grip tightened on the swing’s ropes, the weight of past failures gripped around him like chains.

"No, no! That's not the case Geto!" you rised to squat in front of him.

"Geto, look at me."

Reluctantly, Geto shifted his gaze slightly, the walls he built flickering under the warmth of your expression, as if trying not to give in to your kindness and hold on to his pain that was evident in his expression.

"Suguru." the gentle calling of his first name pushed him to look at you. His gaze softened at you, but you could tell he was shaking inside.

"... I'm just... Scared that I'm going to lose you." his voice softened, vulnerability seeping in, "I have already lost someone right in front of my eyes... And if I lose you too, I don't know if I can stay sane... I’d rather face the danger with you than be left all alone again in the dark waiting for you to come back.".

His words hung in the air, a mixture of hope and desperation swirling between them like the cool night breeze.

"Oh Geto." your eyes searched for his, and when he finally met yours, you can read him like an open book.

"I'm really sorry for the things that has happened in the past... But please, don't blame yourself for everything that had happened... I believe you've always fought for what you believe in, and it's not because you're not strong enough." you slowly wrapped your arms around him, giving him a warm embrace as you calm him down,

"I know you’re doing your best to stick to your principles, and you are trying your best to protect those you can protect. And I'm so proud of you, Geto.".

Geto held you closer as he burried his face into your embrace, as if to hide his expression. You always knew the right thing to say to calm his anxiety. No cursed technique could soothe him quite like the sound of your voice wrapped around him, your unwavering support grounding him through dark nights.

In that moment, it became clear—he needed you, and he hoped that the need was mutual.

"I promise I'll talk to my grandpa about visiting. I'll let you know when you can visit." you circled his back, "I'll also let you know when I'm visiting Tokyo."

Your embrace lingered just a moment longer before you released Geto, allowing him to breathe beneath the weight of unspoken thoughts still lingering in his mind.

"... I appreciate you being here, more than you understand, Y/N." Geto mumbled, a hint of yearning and vulnerability that made your heart ache for him.

You smiled, returning to your swing, "I'm glad I can help.".

"Sometimes, I wonder if I deserve to have someone like you in my life," Geto continued, his tone filled with sincerity but also uncertainty.

“Maybe this—whatever this is between us—will find a better time to grow.” he let out a small bittersweet chuckle, the ambiguity in his words tugged at your heart, leaving a fluttering feeling of nervousness.

"You don’t have to think like that," you replied gently, searching his eyes for clarity. “You deserve happiness, and I want you to know you’re more than enough.”.

Geto nodded slowly, his expression darkening slightly as he looked away. You sensed that he's contemplating, opening his mouth as if words are stuck in his mouth.

"I'll wait for you." almost a whisper, "I want to be there when the time comes. I think that’s how I see my future." Something in his tone hinted at a deeper commitment that made your heart flutter.

"Geto..." you understand his implications, one that seemed to resonate beyond mere friendship. "I..."

"You don't have to answer now... I just... Wanted to let you know." Geto's expression fell slightly, maybe it's because he was afraid of your rejection. You could see the hope mingled with fear in his expression, and it tugged at your heartstrings.

"Come on, it's getting late. I'll walk you back," he said, his tone shifting to a more casual demeanor, carefully distracting the topic that made the atmosphere awkward just now.

As you two started to walk, you were gathering your thoughts. A part of you wanted to reach out, to pull him back and confront the feelings but the other part understood what responsibilities you have lays ahead.

The two of you walked side by side, each step felt heavier with the tension lingering in the silence.

"Geto," you finally broke the quiet, your voice soft yet steady. "What you said… it means a lot to me. I just need time to think about it."

He glanced at you, a flicker of understanding and sorrow passing through his eyes. "I get it. I don’t want to rush you into anything. I just wanted you to know where I stand."

"But..." you continued, "You deserve someone who can fully be there for you, someone. I don’t want you to risk losing it while waiting for something that might not come. Three years is a long time to wait, and I don’t want to lead you on, making promises that might not hold true."

"... Three years?" his tone catching you off guard. Geto turned to you, eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and hope.

It was an accidental slip, the words spilling out before you could catch them. You hadn’t meant to suggest that there was a possibility of something more after that time frame.

“Um... I mean, after you graduate from high school, I mean! maybe…” You stumbled over your words, trying to navigate the implications of what you had just blurted out. “I didn’t mean to imply that you should wait specifically for me or anything!! It’s just… it’s a long time, and I mean...”

Geto's expression shifted, "So you mean... there’s a shot at this after three years?”

“Three years,” he repeated, a thoughtful smile creeping onto his face. “That’s not so bad. I can handle waiting even if it’s just a sliver of hope for the future.”

"No! I want you to have a life that’s not waiting for something that may not be certain. I-" you trailed off when Geto's gaze softened at you, a slight blush crept into your cheeks.

"Well... I didn't... mean it like that..." you stammered, your heart racing as you tried to recover, "I just meant that once you have graduated, maybe then we'll be ready to think about…"

"About us?" the tension became lighter, almost playful as Geto smirked, teasing you along the way.

"Maybe! Just maybe. It’s just a thought. I don’t want you to set your sights on something that may not happen.” you said, trying to stop this conversation before it spiraled into something bigger.

"Alright. I won't." he mused, a smile breaking across his face as he mumbled "Three years... "

"Alright then, thanks for walking me back," you said, trying to lighten the mood.

Geto smiled, a hint of his usual warmth returning. "That’s what friends are for, right? Besides, I’d never let you walk home alone at night. It’s too dangerous out here."

His protective nature stirred something within you, a reminder of just how much he cared.

"Good night, Geto." you said softly, offering a small smile, hoping to convey the warmth you felt despite the complexity of the situation.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replied, his voice in a lighter tone.

As you turned to enter your home, the reality of the moment settled into the silence. Maybe, just maybe, three years could lead to something beautiful, and until then, the bond you shared would continue to grow in unexpected ways.

taglist: @inthedarkshadows000

author's note: 2 more chapters to go!

[crowncrown]

i rewatched genloss episode three and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem

Rewatching this episode with the knowledge of what’s going to happen adds such a nuance to this that you can’t fully understand until you already know the ending. From the first 10 minutes Hetch repetitively tells Ranboo he’s still in control of the simulation. He says things like

“Just listen to me I’ve got everything under control”

“I’ve programmed them (the Showfall drones) to believe there’s no show going on right now”

“I’ve disabled your mask”

Even Ranboo acknowledges this, at one point exclaiming

“I don’t know! you’re the one in control!”

Ranboo has gotten very used to this routine. Do what you’re told. Try to succeed the best you can. And maybe less people will die in the process. But this times different. He’s given partial control. The veil over his eyes is lowered just enough where he’s seeing more than he’s ever seen before. But he has no control. Hetch is doing the same thing Showfall has been doing this whole time. Telling Ranboo exactly what to do to get the best show out of him.

As the episode goes on, Showfall alludes to the simulation being active as ever more and more. There’s still background music perfectly timed. The camera angles are still there. Hetch gives us a lazy excuse that he’s using it to watch Ranboo, but this is the same guy who said Ethan and Nikki are still alive and well.

But I think the most sinister thing this time around is that they’re not just feeding Ranboo the answer to the questions they throw at him. They’re feeding him a narrative. When he exclaims “why me?!” Hetch responds with no hesitation “There must be something special about you”

“It’s a show. There’s a script. You’re the hero” ***

(We will most definitely come back to this ;) )

The most CLEAR part that shows us that the simulation is alive, before of course, we are shown very obviously, is the lead up to the kill switch scene. The audio distortion times up with Charlie’s perfectly timed speech. It has its own music. So many different camera angles. Zooms. It’s the best camera work of the whole show. It’s so cinematic and that’s on PURPOSE. Showfall is winking at us through the production of this, almost teasing us at what’s to come very soon after. We should have caught this. We should have been screaming at the screen telling our beloved hero to run. But we were celebrating. This should have been our biggest sign that this is all wrong and there’s no way in hell this is right but we were CELEBRATING. Our hero had won right?!

Yet he knew subconsciously that it was all wrong. Why else would you bow at a camera that’s supposed to be turned off? Once again he’s blind. The veil is pulled fully over his eyes yet again and he is back to the puppet we’ve gotten to know all along.

His victory is nothing but a set up to add more to the cinematography of his death.

And it leads on to the scene that we all dread on every rewatch. The execution. Or the box as I like to call it (🙃) Remember that point I said we’d come back to? This scene has so many parallels it makes my head spin. Hetch reassures Ranboo less than 20 minutes before that:

“You were just doing what you needed to to survive”

“There must be something special about you”

Because he had to do what he had to do right? He was just a guy trying to survive? Or was he? Did our beloved hero really have to do the things he did? Did he betray us? It festers in our brains deciding if this man should live or die while Hetch fuels the fire.

“don’t you see there’s consequences to your own actions?!”

“We only pushed you in the right direction!”

“That was the real you! Ranboo!”

He parallels these phrases in a way that makes us question everything we think we know about him. And the final nail in the coffin hits us right in the decision making skills as he hammers in:

“The choices you made. That’s the real you. That’s what makes you a hero”

That’s. What makes you. A hero.

No valiant efforts. No conquests. Not even winning. No. This was never about being brave or bold. This was about being a pawn. An actor playing whatever part he’s told to play. “The hero” is a title only given to the unluckiest of fools. Believing they are making a difference while being tossed away the second they break script.

That’s what makes a hero.

[tonycries]

Isn't That Sweet? (I Guess So) - G.S.

Synopsis. Oh no! Why do your pantíes keep disappearing? Well, maybe your hot roommate knows the answer…

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, pànty-stealer! roommate! Gojo, annoyances-to-lovers, he’s REALLY down bad, vírgin! Gojo, oraI (fem receiving), màle màsturbation, pining, face-sítting, jealousy (his side), fírst times, unprotected, creampíe, teary Gojo, pànty-gagging, HEINOUS things, pet names, aIcohol mentions, swearing.

Word count. 8.6k (whoopsies)

A/N. Hope y’all have a lovely week hehe <3

“Damn…” you sigh at the glaringly empty drawer, rubbing your eyes as if that would make a difference - maybe even magically materialize a fresh pair of panties in front of you. “It’s the second time this month.”

Or was it the third?

But, alas, standing around in your bedroom on a Sunday night does not give you the answers. Or any extra underwear.

Which is why you find yourself making a beeline for the bathroom - teeth gritted, stomach flipping at how very, very exposed you felt underneath the thin fabric of your shorts. Cursing everything from the building’s rundown old washing machine to Gojo’s stupid smile when he took away your laundry basket.

You could’ve sworn you saw your last pair perched right on top of your pile of old clothes, all flimsy and an obscene red that stood out amongst everything else. 

Seriously, how hard would it have been to lose that thing? Maybe you could bother him into buying a new washing machine for-

“Woah there-” Before you know it, you’re crashing face-first into a wall? Pillows? Gojo - unfairly shirtless. “Now, what’s got your panties in a twist, sweetheart?”

The lack thereof. 

Maybe because you can’t say that, maybe because of what looks - feels - like miles upon miles of milky, sculpted skin, you’re instead settling for an extremely eloquent, “Nothing I uh-” But whatever excuse catches in your chest as you raise your face - still smushed between two large pecs - up, up, up and-

Oh. 

It’s not like you’re seeing something new - far from it, actually, unfortunately for your poor heart.

And at first, you’d thought it was some strange habit - hell, maybe the guy just didn’t like t-shirts. But it was around the fourth or fifth time he’d forgone one that you realized Gojo Satoru was just a tease. A no-good, insufferably smug tease that just loved to catch you ogling him. 

But, well, at least the rent was cheap.

Though, you weren’t exactly complaining about the view either…

Because lo and behold stood the infamous campus sweetheart - you knew about fourteen people who’d kill to see this exact sight. Gojo’s cloudy hair tousled, tiny droplets of water twinkling like diamonds against the bathroom light. Bouncing off his rippling abs, his strong arms circling your waist to stop you from falling backwards. Holding you too fucking close against the white towel slung low on his hips. His skin damp, smelling so delicious-

“Gojo, did you use my body lotion?” 

“Awww–” he whines, finally releasing his grip on you. “You were supposed to admire me some more.”

You scoff, eyes darting over broad shoulders - partially to search for your laundry basket, partially because you really couldn’t handle looking right at a shirtless Gojo Satoru any longer. “As if. Get out if you’re done.”

“Damn, woman. Feisty.” Gojo lets out a deep chuckle - smooth and cocky - when you’re hastily shoving him away from the doorframe. “If you wanted to put your hands on me that bad then you jus’ hafta ask, y’know~”

It was way too late for this. 

“Hilarious.” you deadpan, though you let go of where you were gripping Gojo’s arm like it burned. Immediately stepping behind the bathroom door before he could make you lose whatever’s left of your sanity, “Next time you hog the bathroom m’gonna smash those ugly new sunglasses of yours.”

He’s pressing his foot between that gap in the door to stop you from closing it, “Oi, don’t think I don’t see that glint in your eyes, sweetheart.” Yeah, the glint in your eyes that told you if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under already. Which only makes him grin wider, “You’re telling me you really weren’t checkin’ out the most sought-after man on campus jus’ now?”

Huffing in frustration, you cross your arms, “I don’t see Geto Suguru anywhere.”

“...you take that back right now. I’m the pretty best friend.”

“Am not.”

“Am too.”

“Am not. Isn’t that why you’re still single?”

“Th-that’s not- fuckin’ Suguru? Really? Most people would kill for a look of this-” Gojo gestures at his bare torso, and once more you’re reminded that those absolutely awful protein shakes he makes every morning aren’t just for show. “-and you’re getting it daily.”

You reach out a hand, Gojo chest hot underneath your touch. He seizes up instantly, ears tinging red as you muse, “Yeah.” Only to push him fully out the doorway, “I just wish you’d shut up daily, too.”

With that, you’re shutting the door with a resounding slam! Feeling only slightly guilty until you hear Gojo’s squawks of protest from outside, “I really don’t know what’s got your panties in a twist.”

Right. Panties.

Something just a tad more important than recounting exactly how many abs Gojo Satoru had.

You let out a shuddering breath, clamoring to find that spare laundry basket you’d forgotten in here earlier today. Shuffling through through the soft clothes, hoping, praying to find-

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

Fuck. 

Somehow, you’re hiding away your body lotion that night.

---

“Now, listen here, sweetheart. I know you look fuckin’ gorgeous in everything but-”

“Satoru.”

“But that-” he whirls around, pointing a long finger accusingly at the boxers you’d improvised into sleep shorts. Spitting venomously, “-that I cannot allow.”

You’re rolling your eyes at your roommate’s theatrics, forking through your pancakes while he monologues to himself more than you. “Why does it even matter? It was just for yesterday.” you mutter. “I didn’t have any clean uh- panties for the night n’ this worked.”

Thankfully, since the fresh laundry this morning, you’d found two more of your panties - courtesy of a very smug Gojo handing off your clothes. Ah, it felt like the universe itself was smiling down on you.

But oh if you thought the great Gojo Satoru was having a breakdown before then you weren’t prepared for when you lifted your gaze off the kitchen table. Only to meet his - eyes wide, a pretty pink blush coloring his cheeks, lips gawking and stuttering around what looked like a silent, “P-panties-”

You raise a brow, “What’s got you this worked up, Gojo?”

“Nothing.” he clears his throat, “Absolutely nothing at all. Panties? I love- er, wait no-”

“B-besides-” you bristle at the way his heavy gaze was now turning to flit between your face and down below. Dangerously. “They’re not even yours so I don’t know why it matters.”

This seems to snap him out of his little reverie, and he’s immediately standing up straighter, brows furrowing. He continues, in a much more serious tone than before, “They’re his?” 

You stab your breakfast with a bit too much vitriol than necessary, looking at Gojo with narrowed eyes, “If you mean the one my ex left behind then yes. Who else?”

Your ex wasn’t good for much - and Gojo seemed especially hostile towards him because of his distaste for your little living situation. But, hey, at least the guy was helping you out at this time. Albeit unknowingly. 

He’s raising his hands in mock-surrender, shuffling back into the kitchen to work on the rest of those “world famous” Gojo pancakes. “Nothing nothing.” he hums, and maybe it was how sleep-deprived you were - running on a few too many assignments due today and a few too little panties - but you think Gojo’s voice has a bit more bite to it than usual. Jaw clenching as he plows on, “Of course that fucker- in my- our apartment, too. Fuck-”

A spatula is suddenly mere inches from your face, Gojo brandishing it in front of you like a weapon as he declares, “We’re going panty-shopping after Yaga’s lecture today.”

“Gojo, I-”

“We-” he cuts you off, delicately placing another pancake on your plate - a little truce. So close now that it reminds you of last night - you could feel his minty breath on your face, count every long, sultry eyelash of his. “-are going panty-shopping after Yaga’s lecture n’ I’m paying. That’s final.”

And of course, in true Gojo fashion, you can barely get a word out before he’d immediately ducking out of the kitchen. You almost let your lips curl into a smile, hit with a sudden wave of endearment as you hear Gojo’s long legs padding urgently down the hallway to God-knows-where. Maybe he did know when to be-

Smack!

You jolt as you’re hit with a pair of boxers - fresh ones, thankfully, that you recognized from all the clothes you’d rummaged through last night - plopped unceremoniously onto your lap. Jaw dropping in disbelief when you look up to meet Gojo’s devilish grin. 

“Next time-” he winks, motioning at the fabric you were poking in concern now. “-wear mine.”

The talk of Yaga’s lecture hall that morning was of a pair of burned boxers found right outside your building, everyone speculating what the poor guy had done to have his presumed girlfriend make an example of it like that. 

For you, however, the only thing running through your mind was whether or not you could count properly.

Because surely you remembered it correctly when you counted two new underwear this morning - that gauzy black one and the deep red? Two. Definitely not the singular, sad piece of red fabric laying on your bed after breakfast today? Two. The only one you could find even after scouring through your whole bedroom. 

So where the fuck had that other one gone?

---

(8+ new messages)

Do not answer (roomie)🧿🧿: Hurry up ive been lurking inside that lingerie shop ya told me you liked n’ now the old ladies here look like they wanna eat me alive ＼(º □ º l|l)/

im boooored, gonna stand still n’ start blending in with these mannequins if you dont hurry up istg

Hurry

HURRY

HURRY THEY THINK IM SUSPICIOUS

PLEASE THEYRE GONNA ESCORT ME OUT

┬┴┬┴┤･ω･)ﾉ i literally SEE YOU outside 

BITCH STOP LAUGHING-

No sooner are you letting out a cackle at Gojo’s rapid-fire texts, you’re looking up to see the man himself being walked outside by two security guards. Squabbling heatedly in a way that had them heaving out long sighs - which, honestly, you felt a stab of relatable empathy for.

“-I swear I’m not a creep I’m jus’-” Gojo’s bickering dies on his tongue as he catches the sight of you walking closer to the commotion. Closer. Taking your sweet sweet time, eyes just barely glazing over him before- you’re walking away. “Hey!” he calls out, stopping you in your tracks. “Now, don’t you dare-” Before turning back to his wary escorts, “I’m with her.”

They exchange a look between each other, and no matter how much you’d like to pretend the scene had absolutely nothing to do with you - you’d rather Gojo doesn’t get banned from the mall altogether. 

“He’s right.” you drone out, one hand grabbing Gojo’s, the other forcing his head into an apologetic bow. Hissing to the side so that only he would hear, “Unfortunately.”

The two security guards now seem more amused than anything at your strange dynamic. One of them raises a brow, muttering, “Well…this one’s certainly a handful.” Turning around to head back to their stations, “Ya better keep a tight leash on your boyfriend.”

You sputter, eyes wide, “Oh- he’s not-”

But it’s too late - they’re both swiftly out of earshot, most likely more than happy to hand over the public nuisance off to you. And Gojo’s looking to you with a smug smirk, voice dropping about an octave deeper as he breathes against your ear, “So, gonna take your boyfriend to help out with lingerie shopping, sweetheart?”

Oh. God. 

This was going to be one long day.

“I’m only here because another one of mine disappeared, y’know.” you hiss, rifling through all the options before you. “Which really has me wondering why-”

“H-hey! How about this one?” Gojo interrupts, shoving a lacy set right in front of your face, his voice just a bit louder than what was appropriate. 

You sigh, catching the eyes of a few disapproving older women around you. “No this is-” But running a thumb over the fabric makes you bite back an insult. And for all how brash Gojo was, maybe his panty selection wasn’t awful. It was a flimsy little thing, gauzy and light blue - the type you’d typically wear on a night out. You meet his boyish grin, admitting, “...not bad.”

“See?” he laughs - eyes glinting with delight as he piles on a few more in your basket. “N’ if you’re impressed with that then you’re gonna be proposing to me when you realize it’s exactly your size-”

You quirk a brow, “How do you know my size, Gojo?”

And this makes his body stiffen, large shoulders squaring up, throat bobbing as he answers,“Uh? Experience?”

Oh, right. You’re rolling your eyes, fighting off a weird little stab of irritation. This probably isn’t the first time he’s come here with a girl, anyway. 

And yet, despite however much of an alleged “catch” Gojo was, he’d - perhaps mercifully - never brought anyone over. You don’t know why, but you didn’t really want to question it.

“A-anyway.” Gojo’s airy voice cuts through your thoughts. And he’s plucking up a few more sets of lingerie for you to sort through, “Can’t let these one, two, three- six lovely lil’ things go to waste now, can we?” At your look of confusion, he chuckles, guiding the two of you to the counter now. “Suguru’s holding a party at his place tonight, how would you like to do the honors of being my cute plus one?”

“I’d rather go with Yaga.”

Though, you really can’t say no - not when Gojo’s flashing you that black card as he pays for everything in an instant. Not when all he can prattle about on the way home  is how gorgeous you’d look together at Geto’s party - how you’ll have to beat everyone off of him with a stick (to which you reply that you’d no sooner do that than beat him with a stick.)

Not when he sits outside your bedroom door as you get ready later that night. Insisting on keeping you company even as you slip out of your towel. Looking over your shoulder to make sure he wasn’t peeking in before eagerly turning to grab at one of your new set of silky white panties- only, they weren’t there.

Strange. 

“Hey, Gojo…” you call out, looking underneath your blankets for where you might’ve thrown them about after trying them on. Under your bed, in your drawers, anywhere. “-didn’t we buy six sets?”

“Huh? Dunno, I didn’t count. Just wear the blue one.” he whines, ushering you to hurry up from outside. Face burning because shit, this was you and you were inside - still wrapped up in only that sinful little towel. Oh, would the painful death really be worth it if he happened to accidentally look around? “S’pretty and y’know what else?”

Your voice was muffled as you hastily put on your clothes, “What?”

“It matches my eyes.”

Really strange.

---

Thankfully for Gojo, you didn’t go with Yaga to the party - nor did you find your lost pair of panties, sadly, but that wasn’t too much of a concern for him. 

And here he was - one hurried Uber ride and about several billion death threats from you later. Wishing that you’d actually just acted on one of them because fuck at least then he wouldn’t have to be watching from across the room as some bastard from the university basketball team tried to chat you up.

Gojo can’t even hear the way the girls surrounding him were giggling about something or the other, alcohol making his tongue a little heavier, eyes a bit glassier. 

Nothing like the way that other man was drinking in that polite smile on your face. Tilting your head to face forwards and- God, why won’t you just look at him instead?

Would that guy still look at you that way if he knew you were wearing lingerie matching his eyes right now?

“Not gonna entertain your fans?” Geto’s voice rings through his whirlwind thoughts, eyeing down the forgotten crowd in amusement.

“When have I ever?” Gojo runs a hand through his hair in frustration. 

He lets out a knowing laugh, “Yeah, you little vir-” Turning into a coughing fit when Gojo elbows his best friend straight in his stomach. “Anyways.” Geto gestures with his drink in your direction, as if Gojo hadn’t seen - as if it wasn’t the only thing on his mind right now. “Well, your lil’ roomie there seems to be popular, too, huh? Star player of the basketball team n’ all. 

He clicks his tongue, slumping further against the thumping wall. “So? I’m taller, and more handsome.”

“Are you sure ‘bout that?”

“Y-yeah?” he sputters. 

“Well then why aren’t you over there with her?” Geto hums, lips curling. “Looks t’me like even she doesn’t like him that much so why’re you being a pussy over here? Always sneaking around stealing her-” 

“Shut up-” And Gojo knows he’s riling him up, he knows that Geto wants to see a little drama - maybe finally shut up his pining over the one girl he’s wanted for the past year - and couldn’t have. It’s a trap. But Gojo can’t stop his head from snapping between you and his best friend’s sly smirk. Slurring indignantly, “Of course I’m fuckin’ handsome, n’ taller. I’d make a better boyfriend too and-” He trails off at the sight of that loser leaning in - but more importantly that tiny furrow in your brows, your hands on his chest softly keeping him at bay. “-and m’gonna go over there n’ prove it.”

“Ah, that loser’s gonna thank me later.”

And, hell, Gojo could barely even walk. Barely even think straight as he’s parting the stuffy living room, ignoring whatever whispers and titters were following him. 

“I said no-”

“Hey, sweetheart.” you jump when someone - Gojo - creeps up from behind you. Large build hanging off your own when he nuzzles his face into your neck. And you could feel his toothy grin on your skin, “Missed me?”

Your face burns, “I uh-” Angling your face as dignifiedly as possible to face your roommate, “Gojo, are you drunk?”

“Drunk on you, yes.”

“What the-”

The man in front of you pipes up - shuffling uncomfortably on his feet. “Didn’t realize you were taken. My bad.” Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but under the scrutiny of Gojo Satoru. His big arms tightening around your middle - when did they even get there? “I’ll just uh- get out of your way, man.”

“Mhm, by the way,” Gojo puffs up his chest a bit, clearly towering over the other man - ha, take that Suguru. “Nice loss against Kyoto last week, real knee-jerker.” 

You smack Gojo’s chest at his rudeness, to which he only smiles wider. Watching the other man being swiftly handled away by another apologetic member of the basketball team.

“Gojo.”

And before you can react, Gojo’s dragging his pretty plump lips along where that light blue band of your bra was just peeking out, murmuring lowly, “Love it when you scold me like that.” Still refusing to let go of you despite the jealous looks thrown your way, “Let’s go home, my girl.”

Oh, the look on your face was priceless. 

He just wished he could fish out his phone and record, or maybe even tell Geto to take a picture - help him make it his wallpaper. And he did - over fifteen times, in fact, as the two of you helped drag him away from the thrumming party. Geto doesn’t listen, of course, and you neither do you - grumbling out a slew of profanities underneath your breath that makes the Uber driver look at the two of you weird.

And yet, Gojo’s biggest issue right now was trying to climb up these fucking stairs - not when they were trying to run away from him. 

“I swear to God, Gojo-” you huff, chest heaving under the weight of walking - well, more like dragging - your roommate up to your apartment. Knees wobbly - maybe at the intensity of his cologne, maybe at the way his biceps were flexing on your shoulders, probably at how fucking useless he was. Damn lightweight. “You better cover my rent for the next year for this.”

“Of course I will~” his hot breath tickles your ear, “Anything for m’girl. I’ll take care of us forever, don't you worry your pretty lil’ head.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t deny the way your heart clenches - just a little bit. And if you’re slamming open Gojo’s bedroom door with a little more force than necessary, well, at least he’s a bit too impaired to nag at you about it.

He bounces lightly when you throw him on his plush mattress, giggling softly, “You should just join me, y’know. Have a little sleepover.”

“Drop dead.” you monotone, not even daring to look back at him while you shuffle through Gojo’s shirts. Throwing one over your shoulder at him, “N’ wear this, I just know you’ll complain about messing up your favorite button-up tomorrow morning.”

“Aww, you always take care of me so well, my girl~”

That familiar little nickname makes a shiver run down your spine, and it’s all you can do to concentrate on shuffling through Gojo’s drawers in search of his shorts. Absent-mindedly reaching for the lowest drawer and-

“Wait!” 

You jump, whirling around to catch Gojo sitting up ram-rod straight on the bed, eyes wide, hand reaching out as if to stop you. Swallowing thickly, you ask. “Gojo?”

And he jolts - like the very sound of your voice is sending electricity zapping through his veins. Abruptly scrambling off the bed before resting two hands on your shoulders, gently guiding you away from the drawer. “My shorts are uh- in my wardrobe, heh. Sorry about that.”

Furrowing your brows at the sudden twist, you squirm in his grasp to look at the drawer again. Failing - when Gojo keeps his grip steadfast, “Why’re you acting so-” 

“How about we order take out? My treat?”

And that night, tucking yourself into bed, you should be falling asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. You should be caring less about that strange little outburst of Gojo’s inside his room. You should have realized sooner - those light blue panties you’d worn tonight were gone. No longer in your hamper of old clothes.

And there was only one thing to do. 

---

Gojo thinks he shouldn’t - fuck he knows he shouldn’t. He doesn’t even want to- well, that last bit was a lie.

Gojo Satoru first met you about a year ago, when you’d come knocking at his door asking about his ad for a roommate. It was more because he was bored inside this big apartment by himself than anything, really, but here you were all gorgeous and sweet, flashing him a smile that was burned into his mind for the rest of the week, at the very minimum. How could he ever say no?

And when you’d taken to walking around the apartment in those slutty lil’ shorts as a way to get back at his perpetual shirtless-ness? Thin panties just peeping out of the low hem? 

God, it was everything he could do to not run to the bathroom with each little glimpse. He was fucked, so very embarrassingly fucked. 

He just never thought it would get to this point - the first time had been an accident, honestly. When your laundry had gotten mixed up with his. Surely he didn’t remember having such a cute pair of pink panties in his closet? And surely it didn’t mean anything if he just-so-happened to stash them away, right?

At least, that’s what Gojo told himself the first time. And the second. And the third. And shit, it was a bit of an addiction now, and within a year of rooming with you, he’d accumulated a drawer stuffed guiltily with exactly what he shouldn’t be having. 

Gojo Satoru - insufferable campus sweetheart, the dreamy first place on everyone’s To-Fuck list - had been hoarding away your pretty panties. Like the pathetic virgin he pretends he isn’t. 

And so here he was - that dirty little drawer flung open, pants pulled down just enough, one hand flat on the flat surface to steady himself, while the other fisted desperately around his swollen cock - and one of your panties. 

“F-fuck, sweetheart.” he’s hissing, body shuddering in lewd little tremors at that torturous drag of fabric down his length. Squeezing at his thick base, moving fast - filthy up, up, up to thumb along the end of his sopping slit. “Feels s’good- too fucking good hngh-”

Such a pretty, wet gasp escapes him when your soaked, absolutely ruined underwear catches on his veins, tangling around his sensitive shaft. And he’s biting his lip, trying not to make a noise when he threads through the mess down below. 

“Oh fuck, yer killin’ me even when you’re ngh- not here.” he breathes unsteadily, weaving the sticky fabric around his long fingers. Tight - just how he knew you would. “S’like you know what you do t’me with these.”

They were your blue ones, this time - the ones from just last night. The ones you were wearing not even a full day ago. And Gojo has them wrapped daintily around his rock-hard cock, stark against the blushing red at his fat head. Already so drenched in precum as he fucks his fist. 

“Y’looked so p-pretty with these, sweetheart.” he groans over the wet fwip! fwip! fwip! Eyes rolling to the back of his head with each long, feverish stroke. “So pretty being mine. Ngh- so pretty in my- fuck.” 

Slam!

He’s hitting his palm facedown on the wood, knees buckling, eyes scrunching shut with pleasure. 

And that ruined, utterly depraved part of Gojo wonders whether next time he should steal your bras too? Have the full set of you proudly wearing his color like some secret little slut for him. 

He’s letting out a ragged little laugh, oh how cute you’d look all confused. Nipples hard through your flimsy excuse of a t-shirt while you looked around for them. While you asked him for help. 

Oh, just the thought of that has Gojo’s red, furious cock beading glossy drops of precum at his tip. Leaking a sinful, slippery sheen down his wrist. “Ah.” he lets out a guttural groan when his angry dick twitches in his hand, falling onto his elbow on the drawer. Not having the strength - or the sanity - to keep himself up anymore. “Look what you’ve-” Gojo’s eyes catch sight of a flash of red inside, sounding so wrecked. “Look what you’ve done.”

And those obscene red panties are snatched up by his free hand in a second, not even a second wasted before Gojo’s bringing them up to his face. 

Fuck. 

“Look what you’ve done. Look how ngh- filthy you’ve made me.” he whines, muffled. Hips fucking up in quick, uncontrollable little thrusts into his closed fist. Voice a pitch higher as he spits out embarrassing little accusations, “How pathetic. Gettin’ fuck- gettin’ off to this? Me of all hah- people like this? Can’t imagine how f-fucking mad you’d be.”  

Would you figure out it was him? Would you look in his drawer again? Teach him a lesson or two about being such a pathetic little pervert for his roommate. 

Maybe - just maybe - if Gojo plays his cards right, gets on his knees and begs for mercy, then you’d let him keep his little treasure. 

He throws his head back in a humorless little laugh when his aching hand slows down to languid, unforgivable tugs. He had time, anyway, your classes ended late today. Torturous - exactly the way he imagines you’d drive him mad. “Heh- wish this was you.”

You’d be so much meaner, pressing down on that little divot at his tip, flicking teasingly like you were trying to fuck out something delicious. You’d be running your nails down his achy veins, running your soft palms around his painful balls. 

You’d whisper, “This all you got, Toru?”

“Oh fuck!” Gojo moans, raspy little sounds of what sounds like your name filtering through the crevices of his fingers, your panties. “Fuck fuck fuck- gonna cum.” he whines. Heavy balls smacking back into his thighs with each thrust into your imaginary hand. How he wished you were here. He’s managing to wrench his eyes open to spy down at his sloppy cock - needing to see how your cute lil’ panties would look painted all white for him. How he wished you- “Gonna-”

Oh. Fuck. 

You. 

“Aw, why stop now, Gojo?”

You’re leaning against Gojo’s open bedroom door, flashing him such a sultry little smirk. Your voice almost a purr when you echo, “I said…” Before taking two long steps to where he stood frozen, “Why stop now?”

Gojo lets the damp fabric held up to his face drop in guilt - yet the other stays firmly wrapped around that hand cock of his still in hand. 

“S-sweetheart what are you- why-” And perhaps for the first time in the twenty-something years that Gojo Satoru has terrorized this planet, he’s speechless. Worry-bitten lips sagging open stupidly, “I- this is-”

You cut him off, “So you’re the panty thief.” So close now that Gojo’s dick was throbbing at each heave of your chest, the way you were squeezing your thighs together. Eyes sliding down his body to rest at the mangled mess of your all-new panties around his painfully hard cock. “I knew it.”

“I can explain-”

“All those times pretending to help me?” you bat your lashes in a way that makes him gulp. Words dripping with the same tease he’d imagined in daydreams just like this. “When you were the pervert stealing my panties? Are you even ashamed?”

Gojo flushes an innocent pink, excuses tumbling out of those pretty lips immediately. But they sound like lies even to him.

“This- ngh-” he’s rolling his hips forward when you slide a smaller finger down his arm, between his pecs, almost the way down to those tufts of white. “Fuuuck- y-you’re not mad? Are ya the devil herself cuz you’re gonna- ngh- kill me this way.”

Humming, “Class was canceled, but of course - don’t hah- stop on my account, Gojo.”

“Toru.” he’s gasping out, a low moan wrenching out of him when he’s bowing his body into his fist again. Squeezing - almost warningly - at his hilt. “C-call me Toru. Please.”

And fuck he could’ve cum right then and there at that devilish little smile you give him, biting down on your lower lip - inches from his that it felt like you were biting down on his. Maybe you were, shit Gojo didn’t even know right now. 

“Toru.”

That’s all it takes for Gojo’s lips to be crashing onto yours. Biting back a little whimper at the messy clash of teeth, of spit, because one taste of your candied lips and he was already so addicted. 

“Mmpf-” Gojo gasps, chasing hotly after your lips. Eyes half-lidded to watch the snapping of those delicate strings of saliva, “You’re- you’re so-” And he’s way too impatient to get out his words, licking heatedly at the slit of your mouth. Over and over and over-  “As bad as me- ngh-”

“Are ya sure about that?” you grin, cunt clenching at your roommate’s pained grunt when you pull away. “Because look-”

And the both of you are stuck on the way Gojo’s moving again, hips fucking up in jagged, mindless little grinds. Like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Like he didn’t even feel the way his leaky tip was smearing along the front of your sinfully short skirt. 

“Can’t help it.” he whines, kissing down your neck. Hips urging forwards to slip up the thigh-length fabric, and when you don’t pull away, Gojo drags your skirt up, up, up with his pulsing length, “You don’t know what you do to me- fuck.”

His jaw falls slack, ogling at the sight of your pretty pussy on full display for him. Already so glossy with your sweet sweet juices, needy between your restless thighs. Bare. 

And this might be the first time he’s seen a cunt in real life but Gojo already knows - he already feels - that she’s gonna be the death of him. 

Sharp teeth nip at your bottom lip, tugging. “What the fuck-” Gojo breathes - more to himself than anything. “What the fuck what the-” Bringing down his free hand to run the pads of his long fingers along your puffy folds, as if to confirm whether this was real. “-fuck! Going out like this? You’re even dirtier than me, huh?.” 

“What can I do?” Sliding your arms around his broad shoulders, palms running along the heated skin. Back arching to grind down on his hand, “Someone stole all my panties.”

Your words fall on deaf ears, because Gojo doesn’t hesitate for even a second before he’s bringing his dripping wet fingers up to his lips. Smoldering eyes looking right into yours when he pops them in his mouth. Sucking them dry. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart.”

In a split second, you’re being splayed out on Gojo’s king-sized bed like such a slut. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw. And it happens so fast that you almost think you’re seeing things - but, no, the way you’re bouncing against the silky sheets was real. Your skirt bunching up at your waist was real. 

Gojo’s hazy gaze getting stuck right at the spot between your legs was real. 

“Shiiiit.” he murmurs, low and gravelly, like he’s moving through molasses. Stalking towards your trembling figure as if hypnotized, “Oh, she looks even prettier this way.”

You shuffle in embarrassment, pressing your thighs together, “Toru-”

But he doesn’t hear you, instantly scrambling onto the bed. “No- no no no no no-” Just wrenching your legs apart with his hands. “No, you don’t get to hide th-this from me, you don’ know how long I’ve waited for this. How much I’ve imagined-”

You’re gasping when he runs the tip of his index between your sopping wet slit, coating his fingers in your juices once more. Teasing. “N’ so wet. This all f’me? God, can’t even- ngh-”

“So eager.” you mumble, fingers threading through Gojo’s soft locks to pull him in so close. To drag him towards where you needed him the most. “Why don’t you jus’ shut up- N’ put that big mouth of yours into use somewhere else?”

His eyes widen, words a whisper, “C-can I?” He doesn’t wait for your response before flipping the two of you so easily. Having you toppling precariously on his lap now, “Can I really? Never done this before.”

Never?

It’s not before he lets out a shy huff, that you realize that you said that out loud. “So what? S’that bad?” Two large hands groping and kneading your ass to keep you in place, “Ya didn’t actually ngh- believe all those stories on campus, did ya?”

Squirming at the feeling of his massive girth rubbing up against your swollen folds, “D-doesn’t matter.” You grit out, “You can…”

And no sooner are you seeing Gojo’s megawatt smile, you’re already feeling it between your thighs. Being wrestled up like some glorified ragdoll, dragging your sloppy cunt all the way up to straddle Gojo’s pretty face. 

“So, this is what she ngh- looks like.” he whines, hot breath lapping at your quivering pussy. “Shit, she’s so wet I could almost-” You’re gasping when the man below you simply sticks his awaiting tongue out, admiring your pussy while letting your syrupy sweet slick drip! drip! drip! down his throat. “This all f’me?” 

The only thing you can give him right now is a needy little whine - which makes Gojo kiss the fat of your ass with a sharp smack! Biting his lip at the way it jiggles against his hand, “Tell me, where did my feisty girl go?”

That lewd little nickname has you scoffing in pathetic frustration, your grip searing on his scalp when you force his obscene mouth closer. “Y-you seriously need to-” Pulling, “-shut up, Toru.”

And oh, you’d played right into Gojo’s devilish hands. This was exactly what he wanted - to have his face stuffed between your limp legs, ready mouth meshing messily with the folds of your dripping cunt. “There she is.” he moans, the tip of his tongue slurping up the sloppy dredges of your slick. Carding between your pussy lips, “Oh- fuck there she is. Yeah use me like that- use me.”

He’s running his mouth a mile a minute and you wonder how. Because Gojo was lapping at your cunt so feverishly, everywhere - from your inner thighs, to your folds, to just around the circles of your sloppy entrance like he wanted to taste it all. And couldn’t decide where to go first. 

“T-Toru.” you let out a honey sweet mewl of his name when the tip of his nose is rubbing against your clit. “There. Right there-”

Eyes rolling to the back of his head when he easily locates your sensitive nub. Wrapping those ruby lips around your clit to give an experimental suck. 

Shit, he could almost pass out from how heavenly you look on top guiding him. Your entire body jolting with each roll of his hot tongue, giving him such a pretty view of your tits up your silky shirt. Just dragging your sloppy cunt all into his mouth when he toys with your pulsing clit. 

“Oh fuck!” your hips are darting away with each zap of electricity sent down your spine. 

Which, for Gojo - who’s only ever dared to dream up this moment on those lonely nights - isn’t enough. 

“Know m’new to this, sweetheart, but stop bein’ nice n’ fuckin-” He’s pulling on the crease of your waist, dragging you to rest your entire weight on his face - his mouth. “-sit.” You’re keening when Gojo forces you to collapse on his soft tongue, bullying past your puffy folds and into that sloppy ring of muscle. Jus’ barely dipping past the resistance, “I said use me so fuckin’ use me. Don’ care if I can’t breathe - if I fucking suffocate- ngh- m’gonna die if you don’t just sit.”

“Fine.” You cry out when the curve of his tongue is molding into your gummy walls, pushing recklessly past. Not even fucking easing you into it before he’s fucking you on his tongue. Calculated, mean little thrusts in search of all your sweet spots. “No half-assing then, m’kay?”

Though, you had the feeling that he would do anything but. 

“Good, now keep still.” he’s scolding, one hand starting up again in those slow, satisfied tugs on his length. “Please keep still.” And the other dancing between your legs to push a finger inside your snug cunt. “Mmm it’s a tight fit, can feel ya clenching around me. Ngh- always wondered how it’d feel- where that would be.”

Blinking away the haze in your eyes, you look down at where Gojo was already locked on you, “Th-that?”

“That.” he breathes into your cunt, voice reverent as he speeds up. “S’your pussy gonna tell me where your good spot is? Gonna help me ngh- learn?”

And to your embarrassment - and Gojo’s smug satisfaction, it only takes a few more hurried strokes of his tongue before he’s nudging against your g-spot. Both the texture of his tongue and his long, cold fingers curling to assault the poor bundle of nerves. 

Your body bows deeper as if on auto-pilot, “Oh- fuck! You fucking- hngh”

He’s snickering at the way you’re so responsive, cock hard - and only swelling girthier in his fist with each adorable moan falling from your lips. 

“Oh yeah? There? Ya like this?” he moans, “Ya like shutting up the ngh- p-pervert that steals your panties with your cunt?” 

Getting faster. More attuned to his feral need. 

Lips smacking in tempo with those obscene squelches, you can’t tear your eyes away from the way his cheeks hollow. Fingers still so rapid, moving to make out and toy so messily with you clit - untimed, sloppy but fuck did you love it. 

“Y-yes.” you’re shoving his mouth guiltlessly deeper. Letting his long tongue explore every crevice and inch of you. Sloppier. So, so filthy. “Love it- fuck- you’re such a fast fucking learner.”

“I know.”

There was that cocky Gojo Satoru you were used to, lips curling into a strawberry pink smile around your clit - all glossy and sweet with a sheen of your slick. Making such a mess of the lower half of his face, his chin, shit, all the way down to his jaw. 

“M’close-” you choke out at the sight, “M’so fuckin’ close- gonna- gonna cum on your tongue, Toru.”

“Look at you ruining me.” his words hit you hard on your sensitive cunt, sending shockwaves up your arched spine. Obscene little smacks of his lips following your barely-lucid mewls.“Absolutely defiling me. Are ya proud of nghhh fuck- yourself?”

It’s all you can do to manage out a strained, “Yes! Yes yes yes yes- God, m’so close, Toru/ Gonna cum m’gonna-”

You don’t even realize it when you’re cumming at first, just that you’re riding Gojo’s unfairly pretty face in harsh grinds - just the way he liked it. Jaw grinding against your cunt, chin hitting you with each slutty jerk of your hips, letting you use him all you want to ride through your high. 

And his fingers are digging into your hips, stopping you from pulling away even when you were snow. Even when you’re sobbing in oversensitivity. So painfully good. 

“Ngh- T-Toru–” you’re slurring out, his name thick on your tongue. “M’not gonna cum on your dick if you k-keep hah- acting this way.”

Only then does a pussydrunk Gojo Satoru raise his bleary eyes back up at you. Giving you a strained little grunt of acceptance, before parting ways with your pussy with a lingering, wet kiss on your clit. Barely-audible as he whispers, “Gonna see ya soon.”

You don’t have the time to think about his newfound addiction. Because in all of three seconds, he’s plopping you back down so prettily on his lap. Purposefully feeding your sopping wet slit his weeping red tip. 

“Please.” Gojo’s usually-arrogant grin has fallen into such a pretty pout with one graze of his length sandwiched between your folds. “I did good, right? Please ngh- so I th-think if I made you cum then I get to hah- fuck you how I want.”

And it’s not that you didn’t appreciate it before - but looking at his thick tip pushing up against your cunt right now has you recognizing that shit, Gojo is massive. 

Fat head blushing a pretty reddish, leaking so messily down, down, down those glistening veins at his side and to the creamy ring at his base - from when he’d cum, just from eating you out, you realize with a jolt. His girth so intimidatingly thick, long enough that you know you won’t be walking for a week straight, at least. All throbbing and angry with every second he isn’t buried to the hilt inside your cunt. 

Gojo Satoru is massive. 

“Like what ya see?” he echoes your thoughts, a soaked thumb coming down to pry apart your glossy folds. Grinning at the way your hole was already so needy and clenching around nothing. “Think m’the ngh- perfect size for this pretty pussy?”

Through it all, you find it in yourself to muse, “Only one way to find out. Gonna let me be your first, Toru?”

And then he’s pushing in, shallow, high little gasps bursting from his lips with each inch being bullied into your plush cunt. 

“O-oh fuck-” Gojo can’t stop himself from taking a good look at the way your pussy lips are bulging around him. Jaw dropping at the way your greedy entrance is only sucking him up more and more - trying to bite off more than you can chew with the way he was in so deep but barely even halfway in yet. “S’too good- oh my god- fuck I think m’gonna die. Is it s’pposed to feel th-this good?”

You’re running a hand gingerly through Gojo’s mussed-up hair, smoothing down the sides sticking up where you’d been pulling on it. “S’alright, Toru.” you soothe, letting him grind up into you. Trying to fit more - all of it. “You’ve got it- you’ve hah-”

You let out a pathetic little whine when his tip kisses your cervix, legs flexing around his toned waist. 

“Oh- ohhh fuck-” he’s barely able to string together coherent sentences now. Eyes falling till their half-lidded, body moving before his mind when he pulls yours stuck to his. “S-soo good n’ I haven’t even- oh!” His voice goes a few octaves higher when Gojo finally starts moving. “How can- it feel this good, hng-”

And shit for being inexperienced, he was fucking up into you so mean. Just in short little thrusts up like he was trying to fuck you even deeper - trying to squeeze inside more of himself impossibly. 

“Some- ah- some more, Toru-” 

He listens, and the stretch - fuck. Gojo wasn’t even trying yet, but his girth was already massaging your gummy walls so dizzyingly good. 

“Y-you’re so- ngh-” you graze your lips across his in what can barely be called a kiss. Too messy. Too depraved. “-so deep.” Sliding a hand about midway down your stomach to press down, “Can feel you all the way in here.”

Your words are sticking to Gojo like a second skin, driving him so fucking mad. Hips smacking up into you deep until his heavy balls were slapping your ass, sculpted pelvis crashing into yours.

“Stop talking.“ he spits, “Stop talking stop talking stop- talking.” Each word is punctuated by a desperate, messy stroke. Pushing you further and further up Gojo’s body from the obscene impact. “Stop hah- talking or m’gonna cum.”

He wasn’t lying - you could already feel the twitch of Gojo’ length rubbing up against your hidden sweet spots. The furious throbbing of his veins stretching out your elastic walls. 

And yet you’re still wailing stubbornly, “B-but Toru it feels so good.” Partially truth, partially because when the fuck do you get to see him so utterly wrecked like this. Sanity dancing away from him with each syrupy moan leaving your mouth, “Your cock is too good- ngh- feels-”

“Shut up.”

Gojo can only take that much of your nonsense before he’s stuffing your mean mouth full with a flimsy piece of fabric from somewhere on the bed- no. A strangely familiar pair of panties. 

“Heh, s’much ohhh fuck- better.” he beams with pride when you’re gagging and tearing up so adorably around the light blue fabric. Ramming his cock up harder - stronger, as if daring you to make a little comment about it. “Should’ve ah fuck- known you wouldn’t make it easy f’me.”

As if to prove his point, he gives your ravaged clit a little smack! before teasing and rolling his thumb exactly the way you’d taught him to with his tongue.

And he’s scrambling to sit up, carrying your boneless body with him. 

The new angle has Gojo seeing stars, penetrating your gummy walls deeper, hitting that familiar g-spot he’s mapped out by now. “Here?” he manages to cackle, a big arm wrapping around your waist. “Right here? S’my cock hitting th-that ngh- good spot? Yer pussy is fuuuck so much easier to u-understand than I ah- thought.”

Reeling back to bounce you on his thick cock. Crashing into it again. And again and again and-

Since you can’t snap back - or even beg for more - you only let out muffled little moans through the gag in your mouth. Thighs burning as you push back in pathetic little thrusts to somehow meet Gojo’s mindless cadence.

“Oh yeah?” he drags, leaning back to help you ride him properly. “Yeah yeah do i-it hah- like that. Do it juuuust like that.” A harsh thumb rolls into your clit, making you stutter and grind yourself down messily. “Fuck- Yeah ruin me- ngh- just like that.”

His words were jagged - uneven. Spitting out of his plump lips like he didn’t even know they were every time Gojo’s fat, leaky tip was gliding across your cervix, your g-spot. Leaving possessive little bruises to claim you from the inside out. 

“C-close.” you slur out, not even sure if he could hear over the dull slap of his balls on your ass, and the greedy squelches of your cunt. “More, Toru.”

Yet your sinful, sickly sweet noises have him freezing - if only for a split-second. Pussydrunk eyes going wide, jaw falling slack in such awe. 

But before you can fully appreciate this sight, he’s starting back his depraved thrusts again. Bouncing you harder - faster. Just dragging you along every ridge and bump of his swollen cock. Fingers just a needy blur toying with your poor clit. 

“M-more?” he whines into the crook of your neck, voice breaking at the end. “More. More?” He speaks up, like a mantra. Each word sending you spiraling down Gojo’s merciless cock, Panting, “Ever since you fuck- started rooming w’me, wanted this- wanted you to hah- be my first.” Holding you in such a vice-like grip as he splits you apart on his aching cock. Harder. “You’ve ruined me-” he spits against your lips, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “Don’ know how many times I’ve cum to your pretty panties. Ruined me- ruined me- fuck m’so close- ruined me.” Violent, even. 

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. 

And it’s only taking a few more unsteady jabs into your g-spot before a wave of euphoria is crashing over you. “Hngh-” you spasm in Gojo’s arms, his eyes going wide in wonder when your cunt squeezes him so fucking tight- only to-

“F-fuck!” he whines, connecting your lips to his. Kissing you even with your panties still stuffed into your mouth. And Gojo’s cumming and cumming so hard he doesn’t even think he’s breathing. Intertwining his tongue with yours to muffle his overstimulated moans, wrapping around your sweet slick-soaked panties in the middle. The contrast of his soft tongue with the lazy fabric of your panties only making you milk his poor cock harder. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck- fuck- Take it. Take it, my girl.”

You moan incoherently, going insane at the way he was filling you up with long, thick ropes of cum. Fucking deeper and deeper up into you to paint your plushy walls from the inside. 

“S’all I’ve- ngh wanted.” he murmurs throatily, such a fucking mess now. Face flushed, eyes glassy with tears, drool dripping down the corner of his mouth with the way he was sucking lewdly on your tongue. “You’re all I-I’ve ever wanted.”

Shit, he hasn’t cum this hard in his life.

Finally having had enough of shutting up your smart mouth, Gojo slows down to deep little grinds - still moving. Still trying to hold back his moans at that creamy ring around his hilt, at the globs of seed trickling out of your poor overfilled pussy. 

“Hah- Toru-” you whine when he pries away the fabric in your mouth. Shuddering with the swipe of his finger along your clit, “C-could almost ngh- forgive you…”

“The blue one.”

“What?” you’re staring at him in confusion, and Gojo’s fucked-out grin only spreads wider. 

“That was for the b-blue one.” you gasp when his balls suddenly squeeze so painfully underneath you. Cock jerking in interest, “Y’gonna have me make up for that whole drawer full of panties, sweetheart?”

A/N. VIRGIN GOJO BRAIN ROT GOES BRRRRRRRR

Plagiarism not authorized.

[itsoutrageouss]

more on the dynamic after Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley saw you cry for the first time…

Things were in fact different from now on. Not in an obvious way but you both noticed it. You had been embarrassed the next day, scared he saw you as weak for crying in his arms like that.

And now his eyes softened a little more every time he looked at you. He remembered how precious and frail you had felt in his hold. He longed for it in a way that made him practice his punching until late in the night, grunting and groaning as the dummy got the best of his strength. His knuckles were bruised, a manifestation of the foreign feelings he tried to let out in the only way he knew- violence.

You were up, snuggly sitting with a mug of tea when Simon comes in, doors swinging open. It was late. Late enough for the owls to hoot and the moon to be at its highest.

He was panting, sweat glistening on the strained muscles of his arms. He stopped dead in his tracks as he spotted you in the corner of the recreational area. You blinked at him, studying his demeanour with intrigue.

It made him shy. He got fucking shy from the way you stared so shamelessly and intensely. He hadn’t noticed it before. The way your eyes lingered on his arms. Maybe it was new thing, or maybe he hadn’t taken the time you really look before now.

“You’re up late.” You whispered, voice small in the silence. His chest heaved as he stretched his fingers, rolled his neck.

“So are you.” He countered. There was a question in both of your statements but none of you decided to answer. Maybe you were awake for the same reasons, he thought. The mere thought was enough for his legs to move towards you, the couch dipping and creaking as it took his weight. You lodt your balance where you sat with your knees tucked to your chest as the seat tilted under you, making you thud into his side, shoulder to shoulder. He snickered under his breath, grabbing you like you were a porcelain doll to help you sit upright. Your mouth dried.

“Do you think I’m weak?” You asked him then, the words bubbling your throat before you could stop them. They had simmered for a whole week now, just under your skin. He frowned, brows set deep on his face as he looked you over.

“Quite the opposite” came his gruff reply like it was obvious. It took him a second to realise what you were referring to. Seeing you cry had made him think so much more of you than before. He saw the insecurity flash in your eyes before you looked away and he tucked a finger under your chin, slowly pulling your gaze back to his.

“Haven’t stopped thinking about it, in fact” he said, confessed it like secret into the night. He tried to keep his voice steady. At least steadier than his heart. Was he sick? Was it weird for him to be so obsessed with that one moment of you… crying?

You exhaled sharply, like his words had squeezed your lungs. Gaze narrowed, head tilted, you tried to figure him out. There was nothing but honesty and a little wariness in his eyes. Had he said too much?

“Me neither.” You replied slowly. It was enough. Enough to know. A cold blow of relief washed over him, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He only now realised he still had a finger under your chin, thumb stroking along your jaw absentmindedly. He withdrew his hand, regretfully.

If he was sick, then so were you.

“You’re hurt” you whispered, staring down at his knuckles. They were bleeding. Your eyes snapped to his, slightly wider than before as his jaw ticked, gaze otherwise unreadable. Was it because of you? The thought made your stomach twist in.. several ways.

“It’s fine.” He insisted, brushing it off and hiding his hands in his pockets. But you were already up, disappearing somewhere. He sighed, leaning his head back against the couch and closing his eyes. This wasn’t calming down his breathing one bit.

Warm fingers gently pulled on his wrist, and you felt how heavy his hand was as you pulled it into you lap, sitting cross legged next to him. He had to focus hard to remain indifferent when his hand rested high on you’re plush thigh. His fingers flexed slightly around it, gripping it with a bit more purpose than necessary. It made you struggle to open the sanitising wipes.

He hissed as you cleaned the wounds, but the care you put into it had his heart stuttering. You looked down at his knuckles, immersed in being meticulous as you wiped the valleys of his knuckles clean. He wasn’t looking down, though. He was looking at you.

“Take this as a thank you” you said just to break the silence before you slowly lifted one hand, almost like you were holding. Fuck it made it easy for him to imagine that you actually were.

“You don’t need to thank me. I’d do it again.” I want to do it again, he should’ve said. He wanted to hold you, and be the one you curled into when you needed it. Needed him.

Carefully you wrapped his knuckles. Your hand lingered around his afterwards. It looked like you were considering something. Slowly you led his hand higher until you lowered your chin and left a barely there kiss on the white bandage. He swore he died. Such a simple gesture and he felt like a madman.

You wrapped the other one. Did the same. He felt paralysed. It seemed you had understood him quite well.

“You can.” You said then, after placing both his hands down onto his own lap, now bandaged and cleaned.

“Can what?” He asked, voice hoarse and weaker than he would’ve liked as he curled his fingers. He swore it was tingling where your lips had touched.

“Hold me. Skin to skin contact can be calming. Mutually beneficial…” you said to try and reason the action, which there was no point in because the minute you had started your sentence he had wrapped his arm around you and tucked you closely into his side, using his other hand to swing your legs over his lap. Your mumbling became nothing as you nuzzled into him. He was scorching hot and you nuzzled into it, shivering.

He had never felt this good in his life. You seemed to fit perfectly into his side, your legs anchoring him down and your head resting over his rapidly beating heart- which was vulnerable as hell to him. But he allowed it when he heard you hum in satisfaction and saw your lashes flutter, eyes closing.

Just mutually beneficial cuddling, right?

series masterlist

[starryjake]

nightmares | s.j

in which you have a nightmare and seek comfort from your roommate.

pairing: jake x fem!reader

includes: nipple play, pussy eating, sleepy sex, unprotected sex (lmk if i missed anything).

it was childish, you knew: to be so afraid of a dumb nightmare that you had to go to your roommate for comfort.

but there you were, absolutely petrified. you laid flat on your back in your bed, not moving a muscle because you were so afraid. it didn’t help that it was storming outside either, the occasional cracks of thunder and lightning making you shiver.

when you checked the time on your phone, it read 2:19 a.m.

you briefly wondered if your roommate, jake, would be awake. it was dumb to even consider it because you knew he cherished his sleep, so he would definitely be passed out with it being that late.

even though you knew that, you still needed to be around another person. you were way too afraid to be by yourself right then.

you took a deep breath and pulled yourself out of bed. you leapt through your dark room and opened the door into the hallway. jake’s room was just across from yours.

his door was closed. you pressed your ear against it but couldn’t hear a thing. you were slightly frustrated that he was asleep, but it wasn’t like it was his job to stay awake for you just in case you had a nightmare.

slowly, you twisted open the door. his room was completely dark, but a flash of lightning illuminated his sleeping form for just a second. as you suspected, he was completely knocked out, buried under the covers in his bed.

you took a hesitant step inside, not entirely sure what you were doing by going into his room. you just needed company and the reassurance that your nightmare wasn’t real.

the door came to a close behind you, the sound of it shutting a little louder than you would’ve liked.

jake stirred, sitting up ever so slightly.

“y/n?” he mumbled, eyes squinted to look at you in the darkness.

“sorry i woke you,” you apologized, awkwardly standing by the end of his bed.

“what are you doing?” he asked. “what’s wrong?”

“i just…i had a nightmare,” you told him.

saying it out loud, you were embarrassed. you’d woken your roommate up like a child. you were selfish too for doing that. he worked hard and he was tired, thus he needed a full night of sleep.

“nightmare?” jake questioned.

“yeah,” you said. “i know, it’s dumb. i was just scared.”

“c’mere.”

your body filled with warmth and relief at the soft word from jake. he wasn’t mad, he was actually inviting you into his bed to provide you with the comfort you so desperately needed.

you crawled into his bed and slid under the covers with him. his bed was so warm and you immediately felt about a million times safer just being near him.

you laid on your side and he slid his arm around your waist, pressing his front side to your back.

you’d been roommates with jake for about a year, but you’d never once cuddled. you were friends—good friends, but you barely ever even touched. you never really hugged each other, never held hands, and especially never spooned in his bed before.

“d’you wanna talk about it?” he asked, his breath warm against your ear.

“no,” you said, not wanting to have to relive the awful nightmare. “i just couldn’t be alone.”

jake inhaled and all he could smell was the intoxicating scent of your shampoo. you were so warm and delicate in his embrace, he was definitely freaking out but trying his best not to show it.

“i’m here now,” he said. “nothing is gonna get you if i’m here.”

his words, for whatever reason, made your heart pound, made butterflies flutter in your tummy. to hear those sentences come from your incredibly attractive roommate made you…excited.

sunghoon was the reason you two knew each other. you were friends with sunghoon, jake was friends with sunghoon, and you all started hanging out in groups. you and jake coincidentally needed roommates at the same time, and then there you were.

you’d always thought he was hot and not only his physical appearance, but his personality too. he was sweet and caring and gentle, and you just really, really enjoyed him. his cute accent was a plus too.

“thank you,” you exhaled. “i knew you were sleeping and i really didn’t wanna wake you. i just—”

“hey, it’s okay,” he assured.

you suddenly felt the soft tingling sensation of his fingers grazing up and down your t-shirt clad back. you sighed in pleasure, letting your eyes flutter shut.

“feels so good,” you told him, your voice in a mumbled daze.

“yeah?” he replied. “want me to keep going?”

“mmm, yes please,” you hummed tiredly.

jake cooed at your sleepy state and continued running the tips of his fingertips up and down the length of your back.

he continued to do that until you were slowly lulled into a soft doze.

after a few minutes, jake spoke.

“can i lift your shirt?” he asked.

your eyes flew open, startled by his sudden voice in what was such a quiet room.

“yeah,” you told him.

he slowly pushed your t-shirt up your body, revealing your smooth back. he left your shirt bunched up around your chest and reattached his fingers to your back, using his nails to glide up and down.

you leaned back into his touch, sighing in pleasure. jake’s breathing got ever so slightly heavier by the sight of your pleasured reactions and your pliant body against his.

he eventually switched to using the palm of his hand to rub your back soothingly. he rubbed along your back before his hand started inching to your side, and he rubbed there too.

he gently pulled you down so you were laying on your back. with him still laying on his side, he had a height advantage over you. he looked down at your tired face, licking his lips.

neither of you even said anything and mutually started leaning in at the same time. the moment was already intimate from him rubbing your back, it just felt right and normal to kiss.

his warm lips were heavy against yours, kissing you slowly and deeply. his hand came up to cradle your face, caressing your warm blushing cheek with his thumb.

“you’re so pretty,” he mumbled against your lips.

if you were any more awake, you probably would’ve been squealing and jumping up and down.

he trailed his hand down from your face and to the side of your waist. your shirt was still raised slightly, revealing a sliver of your stomach.

jake pushed your shirt up and stopped just below your breasts.

“can i keep going?” he asked, pulling back and looking into your eyes.

you were so excited about where things were going, you would’ve been an idiot to say no.

“yeah,” you answered, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him back down to your lips.

he smiled against your lips and inched his tongue inside your mouth. you responded immediately, rubbing the slippery tip of your tongue against his. the sound was purely lewd, all wet and kissing noises.

he pushed your shirt up until it was over your chest, revealing your tits to him for the first time. the cool air in the room immediately hardened your nipples.

jake cupped your breast in his hand and swiped his thumb over your nipple, making you gasp and arch into his touch. he pulled away from your lips for a second to wet the tip of his pointer finger. he then brought his finger down to your nipple and rubbed it in little circles.

you moaned against his lips, jutting your hips up because you were suddenly a lot more needy that you’d realized. with the way he was playing with your nipple, it was starting to get you worked up.

he departed from your lips, trailing kisses down your chin, your neck, your collarbones, and finally to your chest.

he circled his tongue around the bud before taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking on it gently. you moaned out, entangling your fingers in his thick hair.

he played with the other neglected nipple, massaging it between his thumb and index finger. you spread your legs and tugged on his hair softly, showing to him how good it felt.

“you like that, baby?” he asked, licking your nipple in circles again. “is it makin’ you feel better?”

“fuck,” you moaned. “yeah, i love it.”

“cute,” he chuckled, switching to suck on the other nipple.

you weren’t sure how long that went on for. you just knew it was long enough for your panties to be completely soaked by the time he pulled away.

he kissed down your bare stomach and stopped where the waistband of your sweatpants were.

“can i keep making you feel good, baby?” he asked, his hand coming to wrap around your thigh.

you needed him to make you feel good. your pussy was so sensitive from being so aroused and you just needed something.

“mmm, please,” you answered. “it’s sticky.”

“it’s sticky?” he repeated, peeling your sweatpants down your legs. “let me see.”

he spread your legs and found that your flimsy pair of panties were completely soaked through from your arousal. he gulped, bringing his finger up and dragging it down your clothed slit.

you whimpered, jutting your hips up to try and get more contact out of just his one finger. he pushed your hips down.

“poor thing,” he cooed. “you’re soaked. did you like getting your nipples sucked that much?”

“yeah,” you answered pathetically, embarrassed.

“sweet girl,” he said, pouting at you. “gonna take care of you, angel.”

your pussy clenched around nothing.

he was quick to hook his fingers into your panties and slide them down your legs, tossing them onto the floor with your sweatpants. you were bare in front of him then, your cunt dripping and eager.

he spread your legs as wide as they could go. you felt so vulnerable underneath him. you’d never even hugged the guy, yet now you were there with your glistening cunt twitching in front of his face.

he held your thighs as he leaned in and look a long lick from the bottom of your sopping pussy all the way up to your puffy clit. he moaned as the taste of you infiltrated his senses, taking over his head. he knew just from that one lick alone that he was addicted.

“oh my god…” you trailed off, your hand finding his hair again to hold on to.

he started flicking his tongue up and down your folds, pushing his face into your cunt as deep as he could. he wrapped his lips around your clit, making out with it and drooling all over it.

for a moment, he pulled back to just look at your pussy. spread your lips with his thumbs, watching your drooling hole convulse.

“fuck, baby,” he nearly growled.

he couldn’t stay away for long and his face was buried back into your pussy a second later. he swiped his tongue back and forth against your clit, his eyes fluttering closed at the taste and the feeling of it.

“mmm,” he hummed into your pussy. “so sweet, baby. tastes so good. could’ve been eating you out since the day we moved in together if i knew you were this sweet.”

you could barely process any of his words, so lost in the pleasure he was giving you. his tongue worked your pussy like magic, slurping up your arousal and nibbling on your clit and thrusting in and out of your leaking hole.

“jake,” you cried out, tugging on his hair. “‘m close, fuck. i’m so close.”

jake dug his fingers into your thighs, frowning slightly in concentration. his tongue continued to move rapidly on your hot, gushing cunt.

the knot in your stomach suddenly snapped and your entire body fell weak. your eyes rolled back into your head and you fucked your hips against his tongue to ride out your orgasm. he moaned against you as the taste of your cum dripped down his throat.

he left your pussy with a kiss before sitting up on his knees. staring down at you, so sleepy and fucked out, he wanted nothing more than to stuff his cock deep inside of you and just pound until you both went dumb.

jake rubbed your thigh, watching your eyelids grow heavier and heavier.

“can i fuck you, baby?” he asked, slightly nervous about what you’d say.

you were tired, clearly. he wasn’t sure if you’d want to.

“yeah, jakey,” you said sweetly.

his heart throbbed at the nickname, and the fact that you were going to let him fuck you. the idea of what your tight cunt would feel like wrapped around his cock made him lightheaded.

he was quick to rid himself of his clothes. he was hard from eating you out and only needed to jerk himself off for a second before he was ready to put it in.

he lined the pretty pink tip of his cock up with your slippery hole and eased his way inside, not wanting to hurt you. he watched your reactions closely.

you looked up at him, your jaw falling slack at the feeling of his cock slowly filling your pussy up. your legs shook as he pushed himself to the brim, the tip of his cock hitting the spongey spot deep inside of you.

“oh,” you whimpered. “feels so good. i’m so full.”

“yeah, baby?” he cooed. “you nice and full of my cock?”

you nodded rapidly, sitting yourself up slightly so you could see his cock slowly slide out of you before pushing back in. your walls fluttered around him.

your pussy was so warm, wet, tight, and absolutely intoxicating just like how he knew it would be.

“such a good pussy,” he moaned, holding onto your hips as he thrusted. “got my dick all wet in your sweet cum, baby.”

there was a creamy ring of your cum around the base of his dick, which made a lewd squelching sound every time he thrusted.

you just whimpered in response, turning your head to the side. he was fucking you so deeply, dragging every inch of his long length through your tight walls.

you held onto his biceps, digging your nails into his skin. he bit his lip, looking down at your pretty supple body and the way you just laid there and took it, letting him fuck you nice and good.

“‘m close, baby,” he told you, grabbing your chin and turning your head so you were looking up at him again. “where do you want me to cum?”

you were so sleepy and fucked out that you could still barely comprehend his words. you also were starting to feel your second orgasm brewing in your stomach which made it even harder to focus.

you just babbled some incoherent nonsense.

“words, honey,” he said, squeezing your thighs. “tell me where you want my cum.”

“inside,” you cried out, tightening your legs around his waist. “wanna be filled.”

“fuck,” jake hissed. “i’ll fill you up real good. i’ll make you nice and warm, yeah baby?”

“please!” you yelled. “please, i need it.”

your words sent him straight over the edge. he choked on a moan as ropes of his warm cum spilled inside of you, drenching your walls.

seeing him hit his orgasm sent you over the edge as well, and suddenly you were clenching around him, sucking him completely dry.

waves of sweat and pleasure and euphoria washed over the both of you. you swear he was sending you to another dimension where the only thing you knew was pleasure and jake’s addictive cock.

he slowly rocked his hips in and out of you, milking both of your orgasms until you were both done and spent.

by then, you were both exhausted. he slowly pulled out and collapsed next to you. the two of you laid on your backs, staring at the ceiling in shock at what you’d just done.

you went into his room with the expectation of a little bit of comfort after your awful nightmare, not to have been given two orgasms.

for a few minutes, neither of you said anything.

then, jake spoke up.

“so, did i get you to forget about your nightmare?” he asked, turning his head to the side to look at you.

at that point, you couldn’t even remember what the nightmare was about.

“i think you did,” you answered.

he pulled you into his chest and kissed the top of your head. within a few minutes, both of you were asleep in each others arms.

-

a/n long jake smut for 1k and bc im horny for him.

thank you for reading <3

[areislol]

being transported into their world

►— pairings. honkai star rail men x gn! creator! reader

►— warnings. nothing really, not proof read 🙅🏻‍♀️, caelus is the trailblazer, romantic but you can see it was platonic if you want to! girls in the astral express are mentioned for a bit, i mentioned both dan heng and imbibitor lunae so don't mind that! mentions of self attempt/bodily harm for blade, boothill is ooc probably, spoilers of penacony quest, skipping herta space station (will be mentioned in other chapters though!), sahau (self aware honkai au)

►— synopsis. their beloved creator, the one who created many worlds, including theirs, had yet to return after thousands of years. but lately, they've been experiencing strange things, feeling like a heavenly, divine figure loomed over them. could it possibly be their one and only creator?

►— a/n. i've been thinking about a self-aware au but a honkai star rail version for a couple of weeks now after my reverse isekai'd genshin sagau series. also this may be a bit biased towards dang feng (imbibitor lunae) because uh i like him, maybe you can tell?

►— wordcount. 4.5k

part 2

for days they've felt uncomfortable, well, slightly. it only began to happen a couple of months ago when they felt as if something, no... someone was controlling their every movement and choice.

during their adventures, they felt an unsettling sensation creep upon them like a shadow in the night—a feeling of being watched, of a presence looming over their every move.

the presence was overwhelming, their body would stiffen, and they felt as if something like a heavy, invisible blanket was casted upon them.

at first, the passengers in the astral express dismissed it as mere paranoia, attributing it to the heightened tension of their journey or maybe the warping effects in the train. but as days passed and the sensation persisted, they couldn't shake off the unnerving feeling that they were not alone, that someone or something was observing their every action.

at times, they would catch fleeting whispers carried by the wind, faint voices that echoed in the corners of their minds. yet, despite their efforts, they could never make out the words, the words slipping through their grasp like elusive dreams.

as the feeling grew more pronounced, thoughts began to gnaw at their consciousness. who or what could possibly be speaking to them? why is it that every now and then they would feel a sudden boost and surge of power?

they knew deep down that the only being in the universe could make them feel that was,it could be no other than their creator.

the mere thought that their creator was dropping hints of their arrival was exciting. and only when the astral express crew noticed how each and every one of them felt the same exact things—looking around the moment they heard a voice, their body in sync as they tensed up... it was all too coincidental not to notice.

as they talked with one another and pieced the puzzle pieces together, using the information they found along the way travelling to each region, it all became clear.

it was a pivotal moment in their journey, the truth was revealed. in a flash of realization, they discovered that the presence they felt, the elusive voice they heard, was none other than their creator—the architect of their existence, the mastermind behind their trials and tribulations.

dan heng, himeko, welt, march and caelus had a hunch that it was their beloved creator, it couldn't be anyone else. everything added up, everything made sense. they acted like mad scientists, scurrying to their rooms and digging around every nook and cranny of their room, finding any evidence and papers that mentioned you, the creator.

as they all met up back on the train they carefully placed each and every newspaper and article about you. they had to make sure that it was really you. some of the articles that dan heng bought were from way back, thousands of years ago, he refused to tell anyone where he had gotten them from.

"in the vast expanse of the universe, where time flowed like a meandering river and galaxies danced in an eternal cosmic ballet, there existed a being unlike any other—a being known simply as a creator. born out of the primordial chaos, the creator was a solitary entity who traversed the endless void, seeking purpose in a universe devoid of meaning.

for millennia, the creator roamed the expanse, witnessing the birth and death of stars, the rise and fall of civilizations, and the ebb and flow of cosmic energies. yet, amidst the vastness of space and time, the creator found itself consumed by an overwhelming sense of ennui, a profound boredom that gnawed at their very essence.

then, the creator embarked on a journey of creation—a quest to fill the void with worlds of its own design, to sculpt realities from the raw clay of the cosmos. with a mere thought, the creator breathed life into barren planets, adorned them with oceans and mountains, and populated them with a myriad of creatures both strange and wondrous.

as creator delved deeper into their newfound passion, they discovered a love for the act of creation—a love that transcended time and space, a passion that ignited a fire within its soul. with each world it fashioned, each story it crafted, the creator found solace in the act of shaping reality, in the sheer joy of bringing something new into existence.

for six thousand years, the creator laboured tirelessly, weaving tapestries of worlds and galaxies, each one a testament to its boundless imagination and creative prowess. from the smallest blade of grass to the mightiest empires, the creator poured their heart and soul into every facet of creation, infusing each world with a unique charm and character all its own.

yet, amidst the infinite expanse of its creations, the creator remained a solitary figure—a godlike being adrift in a sea of its own making, forever yearning for companionship in a universe devoid of peers. and so, the creator continued their eternal quest, weaving worlds out of boredom and growing a love and passion for creation that would endure for eternity. and we, this universe, was crafted by none other than the creator, the place we call home. it is said that only after six thousand will the creator return to us, to watch over us once more."

the article itself looked worn, it wasn't signed by anyone, and no one knew who wrote it, or how they got the information. but it seemed plausible. millenniums... it has been well over six thousand years, it was about time the creator descended.

they had to be prepared, they had to tell the rest of their friends and families, the world. as much as they would like to keep the information to themselves they knew that you deserved a much better, bigger and more beautiful welcome.

sampo, gepard and luka were more than stunned and nervous, to say the least. their creator... was finally returning back? upon hearing the news from caelus they were sceptical at first, deep down they really wanted to see you in your glory, to finally meet the creator, but at the same time, it was nerve-wracking.

what should they say? what should they do in preparation and celebration? what gifts and offers should they give to you? nothing would do. they were positive that anything they bought, even if it got them in debt, would suffice. you deserved more than a measly couple of dishes and the most delicate and fitting garnets.

it was embarrassing really, their hearts racing as they tried their best to think of what to bring to your feet. but one thing they all had in common was their loyalty to you. if it was their life you wanted then so be it.

sampo is sampo, he was sure that his creator's glory and attractiveness were over the top, he would be sure to compliment you as many times as his mouth could allow, but he was sure that your beauty would be intimidating. no matter your looks your presence was more than enough.

gepard is nervous. his mind is full of "what ifs" and "what should i.." not even his sister can calm him down. every morning and night when he closes his eyes he's anticipating the day his sister barges into his room, yelling that the creator had finally descended. although he isn't quite sure of what to offer you he knows that whenever you need him, whatever you call him for he will be there in less than a minute, by your side or feet if you prefer.

whatever you ask of him, whatever favour you need from, he will never say no.

luka on the other hand is absolutely pumped to meet you! he had heard stories of you when he was a child, and from the stories told by the adults they described you as a kind being, who soon fell in love with the art, beauty and joy of creating. well, their most favourite was creating worlds.

he was absolutely sure that you would be the most kindest, heavenly person he had ever met, what was there to worry about now? luka knew that if he ever laid eyes on you he would fall in love no doubt, he would do anything for you. maybe you would agree to watch his wrestling matches?

jing yuan, blade, imbibitor lunae, and luocha are the most excited of all, sure, everyone is elated to finally meet you with their very own eyes. but them? oh lord... they all believe to be your worshipper, having heard tales of you from their parents, this alone caused them to be awe and love-struck with you.

they were a firm believer in you, you did no wrong in their eyes. all your actions and words were justified. they followed your principles, they made sure to announce their presence every time they came to your altar and placed down the most expensive jewels, dishes and gifts. (they had a shrine of you at home don't worry)

jing yuan was the one of the firsts to get hints that you were finally returning, the divine foresight fu xuan always looked so weary and cautious, but as time grew she began to be more... happy and elated, yet everytime he questioned her she was tense up and smile like it was nothing. and only when he pried did she say that she saw things, saw a blurred face, and heard a voice. "don't be alarmed... i'm here to tell you that.."

he made sure that everyone who worked under him and every prominent person knew of this, he began to make preparations of your arrival, he cancelled all meetings and plans, only focusing on you and your arrival. everything had to be perfect. he had even forgotten about the wanted criminal blade. jing yuan booked the most fanciest restaurant for a month max, he wasn't sure when you were coming, of course, so a month it was.

jing yuan prepared every entertainment and paid the orchestra, he wanted everything to be perfect, even the most minuscule details.

blade's loyalty was and is only for you and only you. he may be cold and stone-hearted (we all know it's false) but if it's you... whatever you ask for he will do it no doubt. he refuses to take orders from a stranger even if it is his friend, but if it's you? say no more. blade knew you were a kind soul, you needed protection from the other so-called "enemies" (he proclaimed it!).

he swore that you saved his life, years ago when everything was tumbling down, when his feelings got the better of him, he tried doing the unthinkable, as he blacked out he suddenly "saw" something.. a beacon of light, it was magical and airy, he tried his best to grasp onto the light but obviously could not.

it floated further and further away, and he followed it, his eyes glued only on the beacon of light. as it stopped moving, so did he, he continued staring at the light as it shrank into a ball, it didn't speak, it didn't look anywhere, it stayed there. suddenly he woke up, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath. what was that?

sweat clung to his forehead when jingliu found him, concerned she rushed over to him, he refused to say a single word. he was left perplexed. what was the ball of light? why did he feel so at ease? why did it only appear after he...

he would make it his mission to meet you before the rest do other than the astral express crew and become your bodyguard, even if you deny his offer he will stick with you no matter what. of course, he would respect your boundaries but he knew that you didn't have the heart to deny anyone, especially your creation.

imbibitor lunae absolutely adores you, even if he was reincarnated the memories still pass on. and the tales being told by the grown-ups were famous around his area and still is. from the earliest days of his existence, tales of the creator had woven themselves into the fabric of his consciousness, painting a portrait of a being of boundless kindness and infinite compassion.

as a child, imbibitor lunae had listened with rapt attention to stories passed down through generations, tales of the creator's benevolence and the miracles they wrought upon the world. and in the quiet moments of the night, he would gaze up at the starry expanse above, whispering prayers to the creator, his heart overflowing with admiration and reverence.

when news of the creator's imminent return after six thousand years reached his ears, his heart soared with unbridled joy. in no time he set about preparing for your arrival, pouring his heart and soul into crafting the perfect gifts to present to his divine benefactor.

drawing inspiration from the tales of old, he fashioned intricate trinkets and tokens of his affection, each one imbued with his unwavering devotion and love. amidst the swirling maelstrom of feelings, one thing remained constant: his unwavering love for the creator.

imbibitor swore that once he felt or sensed a sign that would be arriving he would immediately act, he would be the first to meet and lay his eyes on your divine figure. slap him as many times as you want if you found it rude, he would only thank you.

luocha, despite remaining calm and composed on the outside, internally, he was freaking OUT. luocha found himself grappling with a myriad of conflicting thoughts and emotions. on one hand, he felt a profound sense of excitement at the prospect of meeting the creator, the architect of his existence and the source of all that he held dear.

yet, on the other hand, he couldn't shake off the nagging feeling of inadequacy, the fear of not being able to live up to your expectations.

his mind raced with a flurry of possibilities. what gifts would you appreciate? what could he offer to express his gratitude and reverence for the being who had breathed life into his world? with each passing moment, the weight of the impending meeting pressed down upon him like a heavy burden, filling him with a sense of anxiety.

despite his inner turmoil, luocha maintained a facade of calm and composure, determined not to let his anxieties show. with a steely resolve, he set about meticulously planning and preparing for your arrival, carefully considering every detail in his quest to find the perfect gift.

he even resorted to asking the children about what gifts he should bring, and yes, they did laugh at him but helped him nonetheless.

from ornate trinkets to rare treasures, luocha spared no effort in his search for the ideal offering, pouring his heart and soul into each carefully chosen item. yet, even as he laboured tirelessly to ensure that everything was perfect, doubts continued to gnaw at the edges of his mind, although one thing was for sure, if you didn't like any of his gifts he wouldn't be upset rather, maybe all you wanted was his whole body and life, and he would not hesitant once to give it up for you.

they all couldn't wait to meet you.

aventurine, sunday, gallagher and boothill are freaking out. horribly. mainly aventurine.. once the news had reached them from the astral express that it was possible (about 98%) that you were the comet arriving in a week... oh boy were they NERVOUS. everything HAD to be perfect. they had everything to thank you for, during their life and death situation they were lucky enough to survive—thanks to you.

it was only natural to return the favour, you created them, their personality, their arms, legs, their body, you sculpted their face, you made them. you made the very world they live in right now, the world they call home... they were sure you were by their side, making them make the right decisions and the right thing. aventurine? oh, the amount of MONEY he will spend buying everything he thinks you'd like, the fanciest, most elegant and most expensive shoes, clothing and accessories. he would rent out an entire week or months of work at a restaurant if you'd like to dine alone or with a couple of people. he knows his luck is a part of him, he can only pray that he'll meet you first with his luck.

sunday... just the sound of your name makes him tear up. he could've sworn that one time you spoke to him, your other-worldly echoing voice speaking to him directly about the loss of his dear sister. and here he stood in his room, looking out the window, and in the far distant a light shimmering as it swiftly dived down. a shooting star. he knows that with everyone getting the news they're all aiming to be the first to meet you, and trust me, he does want to meet you FIRST. the second you land he'll be there right with you and guiding you to safety—penacony.

but first, he must pinpoint where exactly you'll land. and with his power and influence he will most definitely try his best to find you and be sure to hide you from everyone else... he needs you, desperately.

gallagher and boothill have exactly the same thoughts. to present themselves good to you and spend every minute and second with you. but with everyone gossiping and spreading rumours about your arrival it's hard to be unique. everyone wants to be with you, everyone wants your favour. but they could never worship you as much as them. they had dreamed of this moment, it seemed unreal to meet their own creator but nonetheless, they clung to their hope and boy did it not go to waste.

boothill basically pauses any mission he needs to complete, that can wait. you are eternal. he's practically on edge with the fact that at any moment the comet would crash through and there you'd be, dozing peacefully.. like an angel. he won't hesitate to cause some trouble or initiate some violence if it means that they don't get to see you first.

gallagher on the other hand tries to stay hidden and in the shadows. of course, he'd like to meet you face to face but with the feeling of an overwhelming and looming divine presence, it's all too much. and if that's too much then what would he feel when you stand right before him? he's like an overprotective dog, fiercely loyal and clingy. even if you can't spot him he'll be right there, lurking and watching.

dr. ratio and argenti are absolutely and 100% loyal and would do EVERYTHING in their power to meet you, even a glance would do, anything to feed their curiosity and desperate need to know the creator. so when they get wind that you were supposedly descending down... they freeze on the spot, their breath hitches as their eyes widen. could it really be?

dr. ratio was always a curious boy, and he has you to thank for giving him consciousness and the opportunities to venture out and earn knowledge and eventually spreading his knowledge to his students (preaching i guess you can say). he's a bit biased when it comes to talking about you to his friends or students, and speaking your name in a more positive light, not that anyone minds, if anything they agree!

although he isn't much of a gifter or "i'll spend my money on you" he's more of a "anything you want just tell me". if you told him to drop his precious books to come and tend to your needs he would do it in a heartbeat.

to argenti you are the standard and epitome of "beauty". the beauty he has been searching for his entire life. he intends to shower you with compliments and roses freshly picked by hand unless you're allergic or not a fan of flowers, fear not! compliments should do! be ready to be bombarded with such positivity, compliments and gifts from the knight of beauty.

anything you wish for he will try his utmost best to get it done perfectly and quickly. "your hair looks so pretty like this..." say no more, he will always style it and keep it exactly like that! "my feet feel so sore from all the walking" ?!!? why is his dear walking anyway!?!? don't worry, he'll massage it for you! "ugh all this work is making me tired" move aside, let him do the honours!!

It was a long ride home from work, you were currently in an almost empty bus, glancing over the top of your phone you read the time. 11 P.M.

Was it that late already? You knew this office job would be the death of you. You never wanted to work at a place like this, the cubicle life bored you and it was just so... depressing. That was the only way to describe it.

You decide to pass the time by playing your all-time favourite game: Honkai: Star Rail. The soft glow of the screen illuminated your face as you began to grind relics and exp for an upcoming character. It definitely worked in keeping you busy and awake as time passed by slowly.

All was well, everything was fine. You had everything planned in your head. Get home as soon as possible, take a nice warm and rejuvenating shower, get five hours of sleep, go back to work and repeat.

The more you thought about your daily routine the more you realised how depressing it was, but what could you do? That job was the only one that was hiring and had average pay and things like that are rare, especially when you decided to live in the city which was your first mistake.

You were barely getting by in the city, the crime rate increased, there were more breaks in, pickpocketing and murder. But despite all of that you decided to rent an apartment where it was less populated, the rent in the heart of the city was way too high.

Pushing all those thoughts and information aside you let out a defeated sigh, leaning your head on the window as you continued to tap away on your phone.

If only life went just a little bit easier on you.

Everything was fine. The silence was comfortable and the low, soft rumble of the engine kept you awake, until a loud deafening crash jolted the bus, sending people flying and falling onto the ground.

Letting out a scream you grabbed onto whatever you could to keep you steady—the head of the chair in front of you. Although it didn't do a good job of keeping you still you couldn't care less, because as you lifted your head, your eyes caught something massive charging straight at you, and before you could react, a blinding light engulfed you, followed by an eerie silence.

When you regained consciousness, you found yourself tightly packed against something dark and rocky. Just great! Something had happened to the bus and knocked you out.

You looked around, it was pure blackness, like a void. Maybe this was what happened after death... Out of all things and especially the time too!

Feeling confused and scared you try to move your body to shift into a more comfortable position but due to the lack of space, you could barely even move an inch.

Suddenly, a crack was heard. And you froze.

Then another crack, and another, the darkness began to crack and splinter and not long after half of the egg-shaped looking ball broke in half as it fell to the side.

Shards of obsidian-like material fractured and scattered around. A large amount of dust, and shiny glitter-like specs flew everywhere, it was extremely dusty.

Unfortunately, you inhaled the smoke, coughing and sputtering, you waved their hand in front of your face, trying to dispel the particles as you squinted against the harsh light that slipped through the smoke.

As the dust settled and the steam dissipated, your surroundings gradually came into focus. You found yourself in front of... one, two, three, four, and... five.... wait.. what?

Right before you stood four male figures (with the other seemed to have a more feminine build), male figures that looked awfully familiar to you for some odd reason, just why was that?

You were confused and curious as you surveyed your surroundings, realizing that maybe this was death? You would've never guessed that "life" after death would look like this. It was very.... interesting.

The buildings that surrounded you were intricate and otherworldly. Dazzling celestial landscapes and luminescent structures piqued your interest as you slowly and carefully stepped out of what you assumed was a shell.

Its' architect and infrastructure reminded you of something, it seemed nostalgic—as if you've seen this exact building before. The more you observed and watched, your eyes tracing every precise curve and detail of the buildings your heart began to pick up its pace.

Your eyes searched every corner and inch, and finally, it landed back on the five figures you had spotted before and it wasn't until you caught sight of familiar faces that you were certain that you had to be hallucinating somehow after death.

There, standing in a circle, were figures that you could hardly believe were real: Caelus, Dan Heng, Gepard, and Bronya. It was unmistakably them.

Their presence, their unmistakable aura of reverence, left you no doubt.

They watched you, their gazes filled with awe and admiration as if you were the embodiment of some long-awaited prophecy (and in this case, it was).

You were in disbelief. Disbelief that you had somehow been transported into the very game they were playing moments ago, but now they were tangible, real.

It was a long silence, it was both comfortable and uncomfortable with their longing gaze. You remained still as you checked around your surroundings once again before settling your eyes back on the group of people.

At your gaze they felt a shiver down their spine, and the hair on their skin stood up.

"W—Who are you guys?!" You yelled, narrowing your eyes to see if it was truly the characters from the game you adored.

Dan Heng's breath hitched at the sound of your booming voice, your voice... it was just like how they described what you would sound like in the carved stones and ancient scrolls.

The more he stared at you the more he wanted to come to you, to kneel down at your feet and profess how long he has been waiting for this moment.

With his eyes trained on your figure, he steps closer, Gepard notices and swiftly stops him from moving any further with his arm. Dan Heng looks to his side, confusion strewn on his face.

Not a single word was spoken yet with a stern gaze and the shake of a head, Dan Heng understood. Now was not the right time.

Minutes passed by in complete and utter silence, it unnerved you. Why were they so quiet? So watchful?

Finally, after what felt like hours, the silence was broken just with a couple words.

"We have been awaiting your arrival, Your Gracefulness."

note: after 5 months WOW. i've been so busy with things i haven't had the time to really sit down and work. I'm so sorry everyone!

tags 🏷️: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls @goldenglow149 @rhwm @urlocalheizousimp @saltylovetale-blog @toramune @oreo-ren @backintomykpopphaseagain @serenity-loves-red @flooofity @minteasketches @yurassia @chellazhef @fulldoves @kateybuggi @wanderingconstellations @mini-shower @160ccm @rosariashield @sickize @sarah22447 @dreamlessnight @gimmealmap @bebeluvs @caramelstarlight @sukiidreams @oceanist @achy-boo @alhaitie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @that-mom-friend @v-ish @merormerry @gojoulen03 @scarletttcrow @hadischara @kithewanderingme @keiqq @livelaughlovekuni @chirikoheina @wr1t3rfum1k0 @issacdaholi @yu-ulda @alysinbshsu @vanilla-sweets @your-local-reblogging-kazoo @be-gay-do-crime-ahaha @seipaws @clavichordcleffa @uhhhiwassup @youdontneedyoknowlol @the-lazy-perfectionist @issacdarknight @lucienbarkbark @bizzybkd @obliviousariies2007 @coffee-seed

(if the usernames aren’t highlighted that’s because I can’t tag you so I’ll dm you when I post a new chapter! if i forgot to tag you im so sorry!)

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[simpjaes]

wife material.

Anonymous asked: Being arranged to jay in a marriage and hes distant at first but notices his new partner who has a nice plush ass, wide hips and plump tits. His brain goes mmm breeding material but youre just an innocent girl with a pornstar body?

WORDCOUNT: 1.1k

NOTE: tumblr wouldn't let me answer it as an ask :/ also, not proofread.

So, you're in an arranged marriage for more than one reason. Rather than being "innocent", you're just a total bimbo. Fr, everything you've ever wanted or needed has been handed to you on a silver platter. Your parents are super protective of you though, mostly out of fear that you'd be taken advantage of, right? right.

So, you've never had a boyfriend, no girlfriend, no friends [outside of the maids and nannies that you spend so much time with.] You were homeschooled, never expected to go to college either, because why work if you're already well taken care of and financially protected?

Your parents suggest an arranged marriage, mostly so they can choose and judge who you will be spending your life with. They don't trust you to go out into the world and find someone suitable, after all, so....why not make an arranged marriage work for the whole family? Jay is the first son of a rich C.E.O and is expected to take over the business sooner rather than later. He's polite, bordering too-stoic, but very much a good man in your parent's eyes. He appears to see the arrangement as a business deal rather than anything else, after all, he was raised much like you were except...he's a man. He has needs, and they are frequently met by using the lovely little black card. He's not looking for love anyway, the late nights to the VIP club lounges is really all he needs. Until he saw you. Until he fucking saw you. What he thought would be a great boost to business and a good little photo op, where you're married to him but both of you just do your own thing....turns into, well-

"Shit, are you a virgin?" Jay shushes you before you can answer. Your little whimper of "It hurts" ringing too loudly in his ears. Still, he feels the nod as he presses your face into the pillows with a hand at the back of your neck.

His eyes roll back in pleasure at your nod. Honestly, with a body like that? A virgin? He'd have figured you've fucked around by now. But you haven't, and that just might be the greatest thing he's heard all fucking day. So, he points his hips with intention now, penetrating deep. If at all because he can't fucking help it.

"Can't believe they're just giving you to me." You can't answer with the corner of the pillow in your mouth and all, but even if you could, you wouldn't know what to say to him. Marriage. Business. He'd support you, wait on you hand and foot? Yes. That's what you expected. Honestly, the idea of sex has been forbidden from you for so long that you half expected your father to keep that rule with Jay too, even after marriage. And here you are, meeting him briefly at his house just a week before the wedding. Your driver had dropped you off, the intention of the visit being to finalize all of the wedding details and put in any last opinions considering neither of you are planning it. You really didn't expect to find yourself face down on Jay's bed, where he ushered you the moment he saw you. Muttering something along the lines of "You're alone? Fucking finally." It's not like you entirely mind either, it's not like he didn't immediately make out with you all the way to his bedroom. It's not like you didn't make out with him right back, even if you were surprised. It's really just the fact that you were totally unprepared to have a cock that big shoved in you for the first time on a Monday afternoon. You've wondered for years what it was like to have sex, anyway, always fumbling around with your fingers and never quite feeling as good or as full as you do now. It's overwhelmingly hot, pleasurable, even. And the fact that Jay is handsome only makes this that much better. You'll be marrying him next week anyway, why does it matter if you're letting him do this right now? After next week, your father will no longer be controlling what you do. It'll be Jay, if he wants to. You can only imagine the amount of sex the two of you will be having after it's official, so...you enjoy it. Moaning, groaning, feeling that pit in your stomach intensify with each push of his cock inside of you, his breath on your shoulder, whispering filth to you between questions to get to know you. To anyone else, it would seem insane. But the fact of the matter is, you've never actually been together alone. Never had the opportunity to really get to know each other. "You want kids?" He had whispered right against your neck, pushing deeper into you and holding himself there. You nod. "How many?" He half-groans. You managed to moan out a "4", which had him moving faster, harder. "Yeah?" He hummed, kissing your prickled skin and well aware that you're going to have him wrapped around your fucking pinky. "You feel that?" And there it is, the feeling of his cock pulsing inside of you, thick ropes of cum shooting deep against your cervix, the promise of pregnancy coming along side the ring he's about to put on your finger. You moan out, surprised by how you can feel it spilling out of you with each sensitive thrust he offers to you, seemingly pushing his cum in and out of you while simultaneously snaking his hand under you to reach your clit. A whine falls from your lips at the sudden orgasm, so so sensitive, a feeling so intense and new because even when you played with yourself, never did you reach climax like this. You shake under him, clenching his spent length through your own orgasm until he gently pulls out and flips you over. He eyes you over, only now able to see you this closely because he finally got you alone without one of your parent's attached to your side. You really are totally his fucking type. And you're all his. "I think this is going to work out." He mumbles, inspecting you even more closely, ashamed that he didn't even get your top off before pressing you down on his bed. Embarrassed that he didn't have you facing him through your first time. He'll make it up to you next time.

"I'll take good care of you, and I'll be more gentle too." He continues, watching you try to regain your balance of breath. "I didn't know you were a virgin..."

You smile, eyes drowsy, suddenly feeling very sleepy...comfortable. Knowing that this will be the very bed you'll be sleeping in soon enough.

"It's okay." You whisper, clearing your throat and then repeating it in a more confident voice. "If I didn't like it, I would just tell my dad."

Jay's eyes widen, fear reaching his expression as he stares down at you, but you're quick to reassure him.

"I did like it, by the way."