#this was probably one of the best streams I ever watched

[celestiamour]

Hej, czy mógłbyś stworzyć grę fem-reader x thanos (gra squid), w której oboje mają ten sam klimat i są najlepszymi przyjaciółmi z dzieciństwa, ale thanos zakochuje się w niej i w końcu mówi jej o tym w pierwszej grze??? (Jeśli uważasz, że to głupie, pomiń) Miłego dnia/nocy 😁🙏

ft. choi su-bong (thanos) x gn! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ childhood best friend! reader┊0.6k words

contains: thanos is his own warning, mentions of bullying, canon-typical violence, drug use, love confessions, they have the same energy, this sucks I'm so sorry

➤ author's note: i forgot how to write!! please be patient with me!! (i hope i translated this right)

╰₊✧ let’s get one thing straight, you probably teamed up to steal lunch money from other kids and maybe even pushed them into lockers afterward: a troublesome duo who ended up in the principal’s office more than once and had to be seated far away from each other or else the entire classroom would erupt into chaos. your parents told both of you to stay away from the other as they were a terrible influence, but it just had you guys sneaking out in the middle of the night to hang out at a nearby park.

╰₊✧ that’s when he realizes you��re his first love probably, pushing you on the swing set at two in the morning with nothing but a dim street light to light up the night, barely in high school and yet determined to make you his. unfortunately, while he’s trying to figure out how to tell you or figure out how you feel about him so as not to ruin the friendship, you tragically move away for some reason and leave him broken-hearted.

╰₊✧ he wrote his first rap about this experience, and it touched hearts all around the world, probably launched his career, and remains in his top ten most streamed songs. 

╰₊✧ alright, now to the games, the second he laid eyes on you, it was like all the young love buried from years ago hit him like a ton of bricks. he audibly gasped as if he had just run into the queen of england, even making his fans turn their heads, jogging up to you to see if you remembered him. he’s so excited, he almost trips on his way over.

╰₊✧ on your end, you remembered him obviously, he’s made quite a name for himself and you’ve seen clips of his music videos/performances which you look into every now and then out of curiosity. you would be lying if you said he wasn’t even more handsome than the screens do him justice, his brightly-colored purple hair seemed to suit him so well and he’s grown so tall. you’re also pleased to see that little has changed about his attitude, still the same old su-bong you remember him to be.

╰₊✧ you two are probably near each other when the true nature of the game is revealed, and he offers you one of the colorful pills hidden in his cross necklace which you smack him for getting into drugs, but you can’t say you’re surprised. he becomes so carefree afterward that he blatantly pushes three other people over and watches them get shot for the fun of it, but he also does the contradictory action of hiding you behind him to make sure you don’t get shot. 

╰₊✧ the smile that splits his face when he hears you laughing and going along with his antics is worthy of being photographed when it hits him that this experience would be much like the times you both shared as kids. he finally reunited with his childhood best friend, and he’s going to make the most of the time you have together— death games be damned! 

╰₊✧ keeps you close throughout the voting process and confesses his love once he sees you press the blue button. the amount of time you both have left is uncertain, but if you both help each other out and make it out alive, then the leftover money will go to the future he dreamed of having with you. he doesn’t care if it seems unrealistic or too ideal, he’s thanos and nothing was ever impossible for him.

╰₊✧ of course, you say yes and become a force to be reckoned with!

[flwrkid14]

Famous streamer Danny and his secret boyfriend:

Okay, but picture this: Danny Fenton is this massive streamer—like, he’s the guy everyone watches for chill vibes, chaotic gaming, and somehow getting sidetracked talking about conspiracy theories in the middle of a speedrun. His streams are a mess of ghost jokes, random facts about space, and way too much energy for someone running on three hours of sleep and coffee.

And then there’s his boyfriend—who the fans only know exists because Danny’s way too in love to not talk about him. Like, every stream, without fail, Danny’s casually dropping hints. “Oh yeah, my boyfriend brought me coffee, isn’t he the best?” or “I was playing this game with him last night, and he kept getting us killed, but he’s cute so I let it slide.”

The thing is, no one has ever seen this boyfriend. Not once. No name, no face, nothing. And at this point, it’s basically part of Danny’s brand. His fans are in the chat, spamming questions like, “Who is he?” “Is he another streamer?” “What’s his name?” and Danny’s just laughing it off every time, like, “Eh, maybe I’ll introduce you guys one day.”

The fan theories are wild. People have made entire reddit threads trying to piece together clues about who this mystery guy is. Some think Danny’s boyfriend is a celebrity. Others are convinced it’s someone famous in the gaming world, but no one has any proof. It’s like the internet’s biggest mystery, and Danny’s just sitting there, fully aware of it, leaning into the chaos without giving away a single detail.

Meanwhile, Tim Drake—yes, that Tim Drake, Gotham’s resident CEO of WE and vigilante—is just chilling in the background. He’s the boyfriend, obviously. The one who makes sure Danny actually eats between streams and sometimes joins him off-camera to play co-op games. But Tim’s got no intention of revealing himself. He likes the anonymity, the whole “mysterious boyfriend” thing. Plus, with his whole double life as a vigilante, staying out of the public eye (more than he already is) isn’t exactly a bad idea.

But the best part—Danny’s fans? They’re convinced his boyfriend is some kind of superhero or vigilante. The way Danny talks about him—like he’s always busy, never around during certain hours (because, you know, Tim’s out patrolling Gotham), and the fact that he’s never once shown up on camera? It’s practically begging for wild speculation. And Danny? He’s just letting them run with it, saying stuff like, “Oh yeah, he’s totally saving the world right now, can’t make it to stream today.”

So now Danny’s got this massive online following, all obsessed with his mystery boyfriend, while Tim’s just quietly in the background, living his double life and probably smirking every time Danny plays along with the fans’ theories. It’s lowkey hilarious, and neither of them is ever planning to set the record straight. They’re just having way too much fun with it.

[xo100]

Baking cookies - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando’s best friend Y/N babysits his daughter Nina while he’s away. They bake cookies, and when Lando returns, subtle flirtation and unspoken feelings hint at something deeper between Y/N and Lando.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1546

next part

୨ৎ

The sun streamed through the kitchen window, casting a warm golden glow over the cozy space. The soft hum of the oven in the background and the quiet giggles from the little girl perched on a stool by the counter filled the room with a serene warmth. It was one of those peaceful days, and even though Lando Norris wasn't home, his presence was still felt in the laughter of his four-year-old daughter, Nina.

-

Y/N stood by the counter, her hands coated in flour as she carefully measured out the ingredients for the cookie dough. Every now and then, she glanced over at Nina, who was eagerly waiting for her cue to start stirring. Nina, with her bright, curious eyes and a cascade of brown curls that matched her father’s, was the spitting image of Lando. There was no denying she had inherited more than just his looks—she had his spirit, too. Adventurous, playful, and always looking for fun, Nina had become the center of Y/N’s world, almost as much as Lando had been for as long as she could remember.

Lando had been Y/N’s best friend since they were kids, a bond that had only grown stronger through the years. But when Nina came into the picture—after her mother had left without a word—it shifted something deeper. Y/N had stepped in without a second thought, supporting Lando through the sleepless nights and the uncertainties of being a single dad. There had never been a question about it; they were a team.

"Can I stir now, Auntie Y/N?" Nina’s voice broke through Y/N’s thoughts, filled with excitement. She had been calling Y/N ‘Auntie’ for as long as she could talk, a term of endearment that made Y/N’s heart swell each time.

"Of course, sweetheart," Y/N smiled, sliding the bowl closer to Nina. She handed her the wooden spoon, watching with fondness as Nina’s tiny hands wrapped around the handle, stirring with all her might.

“Don’t spill it everywhere,” Y/N warned with a teasing lilt, knowing full well that half the flour would probably end up on the floor.

“I won't!” Nina giggled, her tongue poking out in concentration as she mixed the dough.

Y/N leaned back against the counter, wiping her hands on a towel and smiling softly. These moments were her favorite—just her and Nina, baking, chatting, and sharing in the quiet joys of life. It had become something of a tradition whenever Lando had to travel for work or attend meetings like today’s with McLaren. Y/N would come over, and they’d spend the day making cookies or cupcakes, surprising Lando when he got home. Nina loved it, and Y/N loved that Lando trusted her enough to leave his most precious person in her care.

“Do you think Daddy will like these cookies?” Nina asked, her wide eyes looking up at Y/N, full of innocence and hope.

Y/N chuckled. “Your daddy loves everything you make, Nina. You know that.”

Nina’s smile widened, her face lighting up. “He always says they're the best cookies ever!”

“That's because they are,” Y/N replied, gently patting Nina’s head. “With you being the head baker and all.”

The little girl puffed out her chest, filled with pride. “I'm the best baker! Right, Auntie Y/N?”

“The absolute best,” Y/N agreed, a warmth spreading in her chest as she watched Nina’s joy.

The sound of a door opening in the distance startled Y/N for a moment. Her eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. Lando wasn’t supposed to be home yet; he had told her he’d be gone until late afternoon.

“Daddy’s home!” Nina squealed, hopping off the stool and bolting out of the kitchen before Y/N could even react. She followed after Nina, wiping her hands on her apron as she went, her heart skipping a beat at the thought of seeing Lando again.

Sure enough, Lando stood in the hallway, his coat half-off, a smile spreading across his face as Nina launched herself into his arms. His laughter echoed through the house, and Y/N couldn't help but smile at the sight. He always looked happiest with Nina in his arms, her little legs wrapped around his waist as she peppered his face with kisses.

“Hey, munchkin!” Lando laughed, spinning Nina around. “I thought I was supposed to be back later?”

“Surprise!” Nina giggled. “We made cookies!”

Lando raised an eyebrow, his gaze lifting to meet Y/N’s as she leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen. His eyes twinkled with that familiar playful glint, the one that always made Y/N’s stomach do a little flip.

“Cookies, huh?” Lando grinned, setting Nina back down. “I think I’m the lucky one then.”

“They’re not ready yet, Daddy,” Nina explained, her little hands tugging at his. “Come see!”

Lando let Nina drag him into the kitchen, where the smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air. Y/N busied herself by checking on the dough, hoping to distract herself from the way her heart was racing at the sight of him. She didn’t know why it still happened after all these years, but there was something about seeing Lando with Nina that made her heart ache in the best way.

“So,” Lando said, leaning casually against the counter as Nina climbed back onto her stool, “How’d it go today? Any cookie catastrophes?”

Y/N shot him a playful glare. “We’re professionals, Norris. No catastrophes here.”

Lando chuckled, his eyes lingering on her a little longer than necessary. “I don’t doubt it for a second.”

There it was again. That lingering look, the way his voice softened just slightly when he spoke to her, the subtle flirtation that had always danced between them but never crossed the line. It had been like this for years, an unspoken tension that neither of them addressed, and yet, Y/N couldn’t deny how it made her feel. How he made her feel.

“Daddy, can we have cookies now?” Nina interrupted, her eyes wide with excitement.

“Soon, sweetheart,” Y/N said, placing the tray in the oven. “They need a few minutes.”

Lando moved closer, standing beside Y/N as they both watched Nina eagerly eyeing the cookies. His arm brushed against hers, sending a shiver down her spine. She tried to ignore it, focusing on the cookies instead, but it was hard when he was this close, his presence so warm and comforting.

“Thanks for looking after her today,” Lando said softly, his voice low enough that only Y/N could hear. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Y/N glanced up at him, her heart skipping another beat at the sincerity in his eyes. “You’d be fine. You’re an amazing dad, Lando.”

His smile softened, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before he looked back at her. “I couldn’t do it without you, though. Really.”

There was a vulnerability in his voice that made Y/N’s chest tighten. She had always known Lando was strong, but she also knew how much he struggled sometimes—how hard it was for him to juggle his career and being a single dad. He never said it out loud, but she could see it in the way his shoulders sagged at the end of a long day or the way his eyes softened whenever he looked at Nina, knowing she depended on him entirely.

“You’re not alone, Lando,” Y/N said gently, her hand brushing against his. “You’ll never be alone.”

For a moment, they stood there in the quiet kitchen, the warmth of the cookies filling the air, and Y/N wondered if maybe, just maybe, things didn’t have to stay the way they always had. Maybe there was room for something more between them, something deeper than the friendship they’d always leaned on.

“Daddy, can we have the cookies now?” Nina’s voice broke the moment, and Y/N quickly stepped back, her cheeks flushing.

Lando cleared his throat, the playful smile returning to his face as he turned to his daughter. “Let’s see if they’re good enough.”

Y/N busied herself with plating the cookies, her mind still spinning from the closeness she had just shared with Lando. She handed a cookie to Nina, who immediately took a big bite, her eyes lighting up with joy.

“These are the best cookies ever!” Nina declared, her mouth full.

Lando chuckled, taking a cookie for himself. “You heard her, Y/N. Best cookies ever.”

Y/N smiled, watching as Lando took a bite, his eyes closing in exaggerated bliss. “I have to agree with Nina,” he said, his voice playful. “You really are the best.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her heart swelled at his words. There was something so simple, so perfect about these moments—the three of them together, laughing and sharing in the little joys of life.

-

As the afternoon sunlight filtered through the window, casting a warm glow over the kitchen, Y/N couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was exactly where she was meant to be. With Lando and Nina, baking cookies, sharing smiles, and creating memories that were sweeter than anything they could ever pull out of the oven.

And as Lando’s hand brushed hers one more time, she realized that maybe he felt the same way too.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it. If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

[cheriladycl01]

They do be comfy tho! - Lando Norris x Pregnant! Reader

Plot: You try hide your pregnancy through Lando's large array of hoodies.

You sat in the bathroom crying your eyes out. You'd been feeling sick recently and didn't think the plane journey all the way to Las Vegas would be a good idea.

So you stayed behind while Lando went racing, you were now looking at the positive test in your hand.

You knew exactly when it was, it was. It was after his first race win in Brazil... you guys weren't as careful as you should have been.

"Fuck" you cried leaning your head against the wall of the bathroom, tears streaming down your face. It wasn't that you didn't want kids, or that you didn't want them with Lando it's just that you both agreed now wasn't the best time where he was in the height of his career.

You didn't know what to do, the only person you could think to call was Oscar's girlfriend Lily who you'd become best friends with ever since you met her at her first race appearance.

You waited while the phone rung, and rung until the line opened.

"Lily?" you sob into the phone but it's silent.

"Lily please, i need you!" you cry a little more.

"Y/N?" a male voice you knew too well answered. It was Oscar.

"Oscar?" you ask.

"Yeah, it's me Lily's just in the bathroom i didn't want it to go to a missed call!" he says before you here Lily ask who it is.

"Please Oscar, just hand me over to her" you say, Oscar could tell you were crying and he wanted to know what was wrong more than anything. He handed over the phone to his girlfriend with a worried look who answers right away.

"Y/N?" she asks with concern in your voice.

"Can you be alone right now, like without Oscar?" you say with labored breaths.

"Yeah, he's just leaving to get ready for FP3, weren't you babe!" she smiles giving him a look that tells him to leave.

Oscar, stops outside the door with a small panic.

What does he tell Lando?

Does he tell Lando?

He really had no idea what to say. Did he tell Lando that his girlfriend just got a call from Lando's girlfriend and he answered and she wa sobbing.

Would this make Lando spiral and have a bad race.

"Y/N please tell me what's happened!" Lily says back in Oscar's driver room.

"I'm pregnant" you sob and Lily's eyes widen.

"Congrats?" Lily says awkwardly and you just sob harder.

"Okay okay I'm sorry! I don't know what to say. How can i help!" she asks.

"I don't know, I think i just needed to tell someone!" you sniffle.

You continue to talk to Lily until she needs to leave to go watch Oscar and you agree you should probably watch Lando.

You walk past your shared room with Lando in your Monaco flat seeing one of his hoodies laying over the chair. You grab it and pull it over.

You spend the rest of the weekends watching shitty romcom's until you get a text from Lando.

Lando: I'm coming home, now

And that sent you into a full on spiral. Did Oscar or Lily talk and tell him, was hen angry at you...

Until he got home you were a nervous wreck having a ball of anxiety in your stomach.

"Baby?" Lando calls as he goes through the front door looking around for you. You were sat on the sofa, curled up in his lavender hoodie from his Quadrant range.

He walks in seeing you sat there, tears in your eyes as your trying not to look at him.

"Baby, look at me tell me why Oscar told me you called Lily in floods of tears... what's happened!" he asks, kneeling down in front of you trying to catch your gaze but you refused to look.

"Baby come on" he sighs. You take his hand, before standing up and walking him to the bathroom and showing him the test.

"Is this what I think it is?" he asks looking between the stick and you. You just nod, no words coming to your mouth.

"Baby, this is amazing! I know timing isn't great but i'll be here for you and them! I promise!" he says pulling you into a tight hug. He spent the whole evening talking to you about everything.

"You aren't leaving me?" you asked with a small sniffle.

"Baby, of course not... is that why you called Lily crying?" he asks with a frown and you nod.

"I was just worried, I know Mclaren have a really good car this year and that you and Oscar are a good team and we are still really young!" you admit and he nods.

"We are, but it's not anything we can't handle together..." he says pulling you in for a kiss, holding your hips before they snake up your body to get to the back of your neck.

"I love you so so much" he sighs leaning his forehead against yours, his eyes open watching you eyes.

"I love you too!" you sigh, all that built up anxiety just leaving and releasing from you.

"I don't think we should tell anyone but family" you say looking down and he frowns, not sure what you mean.

"Your going to stop coming to my races?" he asked, obviously he knew towards the end of your pregnancy you wouldn't be able to do the flight but right now you'd be safe and healthy to fly.

"No of course not! As long as we are on a jet I should be fine, why wouldn't I ?" you ask tilting your head in confusion.

"Well, baby ..." he gulps and you nearly start to laugh wondering where he's going with this.

"In a pregnancy you are growing a whole other human inside of you, so you'll ... you know get bigger?" he says as if its more of a question to you than anything.

"Yes, I'll have a bump" you giggle, placing his hand on your currently flat stomach.

"But you don't want to tell anyone? People will start to find out when they see it honey!" he laughs, rubbing your hips and stomach.

“I’ll just cover up with your hoodies” you say showing Jake how you look now.

“Mmmm my hoodies can only go so far” he laughs.

And that was the truth, you struggled in the heat in the hotter countries and ended up getting too big for even Lando’s hoodies.

Someone on twitter had got a picture of you, at an angle where Landos hand gripping your made the loose hoodie grab around your growing stomach and people started to go wild.

So you guys went to Instagram of course.

landonorris

landonorris: Yes Y/N is pregnant! We are both very happy and she’s currently 7 months along and we are expecting in July and cannot wait to meet our little girl!

Tagged 1 Person

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y/user: I love you so much. I wouldn’t want to experience this journey with anyone else! 🧡🫶🏼

mclaren: Papaya Baby incoming 🧡🦁 Congrats Lando!

oscarpiastri: congrats man!

lilyzniemer: she’s such a pretty mumma

-> y/user: stop it!!!! 🫶🏼🧡

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[golden1u5t]

first timer | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: you’re taking spencer’s virginity and everything is just so much for him that he starts to cry. 

spencer's hand was wrapped around your wrist, not too tight as to where it would stop you from being able to pump your hand on his cock but also not too loose. tears streamed down his flushed cheeks as he whimpered and whined out your name.

it was his first time ever doing something like this with someone else and to him it felt better than when he did it alone, your hand felt better than his even though you were doing the same thing he would do. still, he hadn't felt so much pleasure in his life and it was so overwhelming to him, but in a good way. 

he liked the way the knot in his gut got tighter each time your hand dragged from the base of his cock to the tip, he liked the way his head spinned when you swiped your thumb over his sensitive tip, he liked the way he couldn't stop the tears from falling because of how good he felt.

you stared down at him with lustful eyes, your lips parted as you took in the sight of him so pathetic under you. you thought he looked so pretty like this, it was probably your new look on him.

"¡ can't- please, it feels so good! please, i wanna cum- wanna make a mess for you, please!" his words were slurred and broken apart by moans. you'd never heard him talk like that before, you didn't even think the word 'cum' was in his vocabulary.

you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face, it prided you that you could be the one to bring out this side of him when no one else can. really, he is still whiny and pathetic outside of the bedroom but this was a different kind of whiny and pathetic, a side that only you got to see.

watching him was making you uncomfortably wet, you could feel your arousal dampening your panties. you shifted your weight onto your knees and leaned over his body to press your lips against his. he tried to kiss you back the best he could but he couldn't keep up with you, he whined against your lips before you pulled away.

"shh, just look at me, baby." you placed your free hand on his cheek and gently wiped away his tears. it took him a moment but he eventually peeled his eyes open to look at you. "cum for me, spence. make a mess for me, baby."

you didn't have to tell him twice. spencer's hips jerked up as he started to fuck your fist, his hand instinctively tightening around your wrist and his eyes shut again. you swiped your thumb over the tip of his cock once more before his body stilled and ropes of cum spilled down his cock and your hand. you slowed your hand down and gave him a few lazy strokes before letting go of him completely.

[goldenroutledge]

one in a million

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

summary: fluff. lando’s comfort show is revealed to the world and you only love him more for it.

warning(s): swearing, hannah montana (? lol), max f makes an appearance

a/n: i saw the interview of lando saying to oscar “you’ve never seen hannah montana?” and took that personally. hope you like it <3

lando norris masterlist

“Tell us your comfort show, Lando! What are you binge watching these days?” Max exclaims through the mic, voicing a comment from a fan in the livestream chat.

“Yeah and who has time for that?” Lando retorts, ever sarcastic in his banter with his best friend.

Max chuckles. “Man’s won two races and wants you to believe he’s working around the clock.”

“They keep us very busy, you know! In the simulator, doing media…”

“Mhm. He’s just deflecting from answering, guys. Because if he reveals the true answer Y/n’s probably gonna leave him.”

“Keep her out of this alright? I’m not deflecting from anything.”

“Sure you’re not.” Max muses. It’s apparent that Lando’s secret, a potentially embarrassing one at that, is on the tip of his tongue. He can only assume that the reactions in the chat would be good, but the way he’s toying with Lando right now is great. One of his favorite pastimes by far. “Don’t worry guys, you’re not missing much. His comfort show is not even that good anyway.”

“Stop spreading lies on stream, mate. We’re losing all credibility.”

“Did we ever have any?”

A moment of silence falls over the stream, before both men fall into a fit of suppressed laughter almost in unison, obviously failing at keeping their composure when the jokes are low-hanging fruit.

“But seriously, Max has no idea what he’s talking about. I’m not telling you guys the name of the show, all you need to know is that it has plot, humor, character development… and it’s not even a cartoon!”

“Yet you’re a little too old to be watching it, don’t you think?”

“You’re not being a very true friend, Max. Who said I’m too old to watch it?”

“Not a true friend? Is that what we’re doing?” Max catches on almost immediately to Lando’s quoting of certain song titles in his sentences, giving small hints to the viewers without completely giving it away. “I know you don’t mean that so I’ll forgive you. After all, nobody's perfect.”

“I hope you’re including yourself in that, mate.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m just like you.” Max sings his last three words, imitating the original songstress as best as he could.

“There we go, that’s more like it.” Lando smiles, amused with himself and with the way the chat is speculating who they’re referring to.

“I’m not changing my mind, it’s time for you to move on from that show. Just kiss it goodbye, Lando.”

“Are you the superfan here or am I? Because you’re quoting an awful lot of songs there.”

Max sighs, clearly taking more humor in this than he probably should. But would it be a Max Fewtrell x Lando Norris stream without a good inside joke? “Life’s what you make it, man.”

“It is what you make it. Some may say truer words have never been spoken.” Lando responds thoughtfully, clearly pondering his words. Or he’s at least pretending to.

“The fact that you get your life lessons from that show is concerning. Has anyone guessed it yet?” Max questions, carefully scanning the chat to see if there’s any mention of a certain blonde pop star.

“Well I don’t need them to guess it! If it’s my comfort show then how comforting would it be for everyone to know it?”

“They already know, mate! We’re not exactly subtle!”

“Fine, then we’ll say it on three. Ready?” Lando suggests, before counting down in unison with Max. “1…2…3…Go-fuck-yourself.”

“Hannah Montana!” Max shouts quickly, leaving an eerie silence over the stream as he bursts into laughter once again, nothing short of hysterical. “It’s Hannah Montana!”

Lando blushes slightly, his stoic expression slowly breaking before he begins laughing himself. If anyone watching didn’t know any better, they’d think he’s crying by the way he cups his face in his hands. It only provokes Max’s reaction further. Out of all of their stream moments, it goes without saying that they know there’s no way this isn’t getting clipped.

–

You’re lounging in bed when Lando returns to you from the ensuite bathroom, fresh out of the shower and ready to cuddle up to you after a long day. His heartbeat usually quickens at the sight of you anyway, but especially now as he sees you there in your shared bed. Visibly calm, cozy in one of his t-shirts, and ready to forget about the outside world with him for the night.

You can hardly peel your eyes away from the video playing on your phone, but it’s not hard once his eyes meet yours. You smile at him which is never out of the ordinary, only this time you know something he doesn’t. There’s mischief in your smirk and he immediately catches onto it.

“Congrats babe, you’re viral.” You face your phone towards him so he can see the video of himself from just hours earlier.

He throws his head back in exasperation and sighs dramatically, knowing that his suspicions have been proved correct. The little Hannah Montana moment between him & Max today was definitely clipped and had made its way into your algorithm. Lando throws the covers back and crawls in bed next to you, feeling at least a little bit soothed at the warmth of your body heat compared to the chill down his spine. He watches the video from over your shoulder, fitting in comfortably right beside you.

“I can’t believe he really went there!” You exclaim, with no urge to scroll past the video and see something else. You’d hate to make Lando feel bad, but it does get a little funnier every time.

“I can.” Lando states matter-of-factly. “He’s been holding it over my head ever since my sister let it slip that we watched it all the time growing up.” You giggle, which prompts Lando to defend himself further. “But it’s a good show! If I put on a wig and took on a new persona, my DJ career would’ve taken off by now. She’s a genius if you think about it. I mean I can’t be the only one who understands, right?”

“You’re not.” You murmur comfortingly, chastely kissing his jaw. “That show is a classic. Don’t let Max bully you into not liking it anymore. I love that you can appreciate good television when you see it, even if it’s Hannah Montana.”

“So you’re not leaving me?” Lando echoes Max’s words from earlier and beams with joy, putting an end to the pout he was putting on for dramatic effect.

“And let him win? Never.” You tease. “And you know why else I’m not?”

He breaks your gaze momentarily, feeling like his heart will turn to mush after you say what’s on your mind. If he’s honest with himself, it always does. “Why else are you not, Y/n?”

“Because you, Lando Norris, are one in a million. Hannah’s words.”

He sighs and smiles wide before giving you a proper kiss. It’s full of gratitude that you always play along, that you always flatter him until he’s blushing but most of all, for just being you. For never being embarrassed by him or hesitating to love him back the way he loves you, cheesy song lyrics be damned.

“Should we watch an episode?”

Lando rests his chin in the nape of your neck and caresses you gently. Moments like these are what makes the distance so agonizing, because you crave nothing more than to be with each other like this again. It’s what brings you back home to each other always, no matter what the coordinates say.

“Sure, baby.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder, trusting your judgment as you scroll through the episodes. Maybe you hadn’t seen them as often as Lando had, but they were fond childhood memories you held also. “Just not the Blue Jeans one!”

You give him a puzzled look, silently asking him to refresh your memory and explain himself.

“You know, Blue Jeans. Her horse? He gets bitten by a snake and almost dies. It’s too sad, we can’t watch that one unless I’m prepared for it, which I am not.”

“But he was okay in the end right?”

“Yeah, but he didn’t deserve what happened to him!” Lando emphasizes and you can hear the stress in his voice as he recalls the memory. “I didn’t think he was gonna recover, it’s a miracle that he did.”

You hum in agreement, amused by his passion. “Don’t worry my love, there are plenty of other episodes to choose from. I know that one is sensitive for you.”

“Promise you won’t make fun of me for it?” Lando teases, lightening the mood from his depressing story about an injured horse on TV.

You pause for a few moments, pretending to weigh your options. “Build me a closet like Hannah’s and you have a deal.” Lando smirks, picturing the image instantly. It was nothing short of a fashion lover’s dream, with shoes along the walls from top to bottom and clothes displayed in a colorful carousel.

He places a kiss on your temple, and then several behind your ears and down your neck to your shoulder, drawing your attention away from the television screen and back to him. He doesn’t really have to pause and think about it. Maybe he’s not always poetic with his words, but he knows in his heart that no gesture is too grand for you. “Consider it done.”

a/n 💌: reblogs, comments & feedback is greatly appreciated! thanks for reading <3

[hottestvirgin]

DILF!HEESEUNG

warnings. dilf!heeseung, sub!reader, smut, fluff, cute moments, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, unprotected sex, slight degrading, dirty talk, creampie, very dirty, yuuuhh

becoming heeseung’s daughter’s official babysitter was the best decision you’ve made in a while. not only were you getting paid $65 an hour to watch a guy’s child and to live there, but you were babysitting a well behaved little girl.

this came with its perks, and that was seeing her attractive father everyday. you met heeseung through a friend who worked for his family’s company. when she heard word of him needing a babysitter for his two year old, she immediately called you. after a small interview and background check, you became his babysitter.

that was one year ago. so now you were watching over a little three year old everyday, keeping her fed and entertaining while heeseung worked overtime for the company he’s soon to obtain. being closer to him, he’s more vocal about his struggles with being a father with his career.

“i don’t, y’know, wanna be distant from her,” he pauses to meet your eyes, flashing a genuine smile while rubbing your shoulder, “that’s why i appreciate you so much.”

your heart thrums at his words. they always do. and you couldn’t help the overwhelming feelings for heeseung. this tension between you two have been blossoming for a few months now. he just finds it so endearing how sweet and caring you are to both him and his daughter. he even considered raising your pay.

“$100!?” you gasped, a little too loudly. you quickly glance over at his sleeping daughter, hoping you didn’t wake her. when she didn’t move an inch, you look back at heeseung.

“is it too low?” the man asked, “i can double it.” he was desperate. so desperate to show you his appreciation. so desperate to ensure that you would never, ever leave.

“my current pay is enough, sir. don’t worry.” you smiled at him and he swore you were the most beautiful woman his eyes had ever landed on.

he pursed his lips, “you’re always so formal. you can call me heeseung,” he chuckled, “loosen up a bit.”

the softness of his voice lightened your mood that day, causing his name to be able to slip past your plush lips with ease now.

“heeseung, you got her the wrong applesauce,” you told him with a small laugh, watching him drop the last grocery bag on the kitchen counter. “she likes strawberry instead of cinnamon, remember?”

your words sent a weird feeling in heeseung’s stomach. you remembered everything about his daughter and he couldn’t even remember her favorite applesauce flavor. seeing you take on the role he failed to take made him proud and embarrassed.

“shit. you’re right. i’ll go get it then.” he’s stopped by the firm grip on his wrist, turning on his heels and meeting your comforting gaze.

“don’t worry about it. she’ll eat it.” you told him. and later that night he overheard you telling his daughter that the cinnamon applesauce was a special gift from him and how he loved her very much. she had eaten every single bite.

the first time he saw you cry was probably the scariest moment in his life. what had happened? did his daughter do something to you? did she hurt your feelings? were you gonna leave him?

“hey, hey, what’s wrong?” heeseung was quick to comfort you in parallel with how you’re always quick to comfort him. he rubbed your back and you sniffled, wiping the tears that streamed down your face.

“she called me mommy,” you told him, “i just.. don’t know how to react to that.”

oh.

when you told him that you didn’t know why you bursted out crying, he hesitated for a bit. he knew that this would happen because of how young she is. but he didn’t know it would make you ball out crying.

“if she thinks of you as a mommy then that means you’re doing a good job.” heeseung told you, his fingers intertwining with yours, squeezing your hand. there was something about his aura that night that made you feel safe and warm.

and what really made your heart swell was when he told you that you would be the perfect mother. this feeling was different. it made you.. aroused. in a way. but it was wrong, right? you can’t feel this way towards him.

as the long spring days passed, the tension grew. starting from giving each other as much personal space as possible to being very affectionate and open with each other which seemed like overnight.

“i just put her to bed.” you announce, standing in heeseung’s doorway with your arms crossed. he looks up from his laptop, inviting you to sit on his bed. “i’m getting used to it. but it just feels so weird sometimes. i’ve never seen myself as a mother.”

heeseung’s facial expression softens when you speak, reaching to graze his fingers over your arm. “but you would. i’ve been watching you and you’re better at parenting than me.” he laughs his words off but your stomach churns in arousal when he admits that he does, in fact, watch you.

“you’re an amazing dad.” you reassure. “you think so?” heeseung tsks, closing his laptop to give you his attention. nodding, you continue, “you’re sweet, loving, funny, generous..” you pause when he interrupts with a sudden laugh.

“yeah? tell me more.” the man sits up against his headboard, loving the compliments.

“hardworking, dependable.. i could go on. you’re everything i’d want in a man.” you didn’t expect to fully admit your appreciation for the man but you didn’t expect to admit that. seeing his reaction to your words made your heart flutter.

heeseung didn’t know why but the tension between you two grew intensely. he stares into your eyes lovingly, in a daze. like he was getting high just from hearing your pretty voice.

“so you want me to be your man?” heeseung repeats, and your face quickly heats in embarrassment at what you just said. fuck. what if he finds you weird? would he fire you?

“i-i mean.. i’d like a man like you.”

“mm.. so you like me.” heeseung concludes, and you cover your face in embarrassment. “well, i like you too,” he tells you, “and you’re everything i’d want in a woman.”

there’s a hint of teasing in his words but you knew they were genuine when you found heeseung in between your legs, splitting you open on his cock right then and there. filling your cunt deliciously, it’s so good. and heeseung has never been this turned on in his life, rutting into you desperately.

you can feel him deep in your stomach. and his slender fingers graze over your abdomen, his desires sending more adrenaline through his veins. he pushes your thighs against your chest, folding you in half and thrusting stupidly into you. “i’ll fuck a baby in you, i promise.” he grunts, squeezing your thighs.

you’re all fuzzy and drunk on his cock, only being able to moan and whimper pathetically as he pulls his hips down harder and harder, each time pushing your body into the mattress which produces loud squeaks and would guarantee wake his daughter up. but he doesn’t stop.

“you’d be such a pretty mama, baby.” heeseung cooes, and it sends shivers down your spine. he’s serious because he’s fucking you into the mattress with all his strength, caging and trapping you between his arms.

“d..don’t stop.” you beg, breathless. he’s not planning on it, and it only thrives him to angle his hips to where his swollen tip abuses that soft spot inside of you. this sends you to another realm, your grunts turning into silent moans.

heeseung can see it now. how you’d be walking around his house with a swollen belly. how pretty you’d look with all the weight gain, swollen tits, so fragile and gorgeous. just for him. he could already see you with his baby in your arms. fuck. it turns him on so much. everything about you does.

“oh my god. s’ good.” you moan, gripping onto the back of your own thighs. “yeah? i’m right here, baby, feel that?” he grazes over your stomach again, pushing down to feel the print of his cock in your flesh, “gonna fill this pussy full of my babies.. gonna make you my wife so you’ll never leave me like she did.”

fuck. he was pushing you over the edge and your fingers were slipping. you were so close to losing your mind. clenching around him, he groans while putting more aggression to his thrusts to ensure that he’s balls deep inside you. fuckfuckfuck. he was so close, his cock throbbing and twitching inside you. every drag of his cock sent a shiver down your spine.

he nuzzles his sweaty face into your neck, taking in your sweet, motherly scent. you were driving him fucking crazy. and he didn’t stop his thrusts for a minute. he wraps an arm around the back of your neck, pulling you into his chest while his other hand pushes your thigh further against your chest.

“ah fuuuk.. m’ gonna cum.” heeseung hips stutter, voice shivery as he whimpers and fills your womb full with his thick load, riding out his orgasm while you cum hard around him, creaming his shaft. he’s still rocking against you to make sure he fucks every drop of his cum as deep as he can in you. when he pulls out, fat globs of his cum seep out of your aching hole.

you have no regrets, no source of shame, nothing. this was the man you wanted to be the father of your first child. this was the man who’s baby you wanted to carry. so a few weeks later, you show him a positive pregnancy test.

[joeyfranchise]

is it cool that i said all that?

joe burrow x fem!reader

summary: everything you thought you said and everything that happened… was all a dream? how can you go through this again, tell joe your real feelings, and calm yourself down enough to let the truth out? and how will he take it?

warnings: MDNI!!! (and i’m not gonna tell y’all again bc i’ll start blocking.) smuttttt, it’s fluffy too! oral (m. rec), p in v, spitting, manhandling ofc, size kink! a lil light choking again. this one got a lil nastier than i originally intended. cocky joe is always it’s own warning.

word count: 4.1k.

note: THIS IS A PART 2, original fic here (x). it starts exactly where it ended, so it will not make sense if you haven’t read part 1 first. much love to yous. 💗 (so sorry it came a day later than i wanted it to.)

you rub your sweaty palms against your shorts and bite at the inside of your cheek. you watch joe as he toes off his shoes and socks, making himself comfortable. for some reason, that helps you calm down the tiniest bit.

he sits next to you expectantly, silently waiting on you to speak. your heart is beating against your chest as hard as it ever has before. you’re swimming around inside your own brain like a goldfish. the room is spinning.

you feel joe’s hands - his large hands - grab your shoulders, steadying your now swaying form.

“y/n, you look like you’re gonna be sick. are you sure you’re okay?” he questions, voice laced with concern. he reaches up and tucks a strand of your sweaty, slightly tangled hair behind your ear.

somewhere, deep inside your head, you’re screaming out all your feelings. you’re telling joe you love him, you appreciate him, he’s everything to you. but the words just won’t slip past your lips.

joe’s worried. he’s not sure what’s going on, but he’s trying to think of something, anything to help you.

you close your eyes and try to take a few deep breaths, sorting through your thoughts like a rolodex. you clench and unclench your fists. you count. one. two. three. four. five.

when you open your eyes you look at joe, still looking concerned. you avert your gaze to the wall. “alright joey,” you start, “here goes nothing.” you take one last shaky breath.

“i have a lot to say so, i’m just gonna spill it out okay?” you ask, once more giving yourself a moment. “go ahead, i’m all ears.” he says, rubbing your shoulder. finally, you face him again, his blue eyes staring into yours.

“listen, joey. i don’t want this to be weird. i just… i think i’ve liked you as long as i’ve known you, and i think i’ve known for a while that i… i don’t just like you. i have serious feelings for you. and i know that’s a complicated predicament to put us in because we’re best friends, but hopefully you’ll feel the same. and if you don’t, then i hope you can understand because i can’t lose you as a friend. you’re all i have, i care about you more than anything and i can’t lose you. i literally cannot.” you spill out, emotions beginning to flow. joe looks at you with a soft gaze. he opens his mouth like he’s going to speak, but then he closes it.

“and i know it’s sudden joe, i know it’s abrupt. but the teasing about our size difference was really getting to me, i’m assuming you must’ve caught on to that. and i know it’s probably wrong to be fantasizing over your best friend or something but i just… i love you and i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.” you’re word vomiting. tears begin to stream down your cheeks as you apologize to him. you’re afraid you’ve ruined everything, that he’s gonna walk away from you, leave this friendship and everything you’ve ever had behind.

but why would he?

before you can register what’s happening, you’re being pulled into his lap and crushed against his chest for a hug. you begin crying even harder.

“y/n, bub.. don’t cry.” he says, rubbing your back soothingly.

“will you look at me?”

you pull away from his tight hug and look into his eyes once again as he wipes away your tears with his thumbs. “everything is okay. breathe for me. we’ll keep talking in a minute. just breathe in for four seconds, hold for four, blow out for four, hold again and repeat. square breathing, remember we learned that together?”

you try. you try so hard to regulate your breathing, emotions, feelings. but here you are, straddling his lap just like in your dream - your stupid fucking dream you haven’t even gotten to yet - and you can’t even focus on breathing properly.

joe’s strong hands find their way to your arms, rubbing soothing circles into your biceps. you breathe in, hold for four, and try to do square breathing. you close your eyes, once again trying to just gather your thoughts. joe lets you sit in your silence, allowing you to process before he speaks his mind.

once you open your eyes again, still finding his gaze on you, you think you’re ready to continue. before you can start the conversation back up, joe is speaking.

“let me say my piece, okay?” his voice sounds sure, his gaze is stern. you’re still afraid of where this is going. all you can do is nod your head yes.

“i’ll start by saying i figured it out on the football field, but it was solidified when you spent the night with me. i don’t think it’s crazy or weird that you like that, i’d be lying if i said i haven’t thought about you in that manner too. i mean, any guy and girl as close as we are.. there’s bound to be sexual or intimate thoughts bouncing around in our heads somewhere, right?” he cocks his head to the side, a small gesture that lets you know he’s being honest, that he isn’t bothered by anything you said. that helps you breathe easier for a moment.

“honestly y/n, i’ve loved you a long time. as a friend, as something more. and it’s selfish but… it’s like i always knew you were gonna be there. i always knew you were my girl. i hate that i’ve never come to you about it before. i hate that i’ve dated around and never talked to you about these feelings, because deep down i know it was wrong. i think i’ve known for a while we both felt the same about each other.”

a part of you wants to be mad, because in truth it is kinda fucked up for him to just leave you in waiting, but your brain is focusing on something else. my girl. my girl. my girl.

he just called you his girl. something about that possessive phrase has you reeling, and after the evening you’ve had, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t want to make you jump his bones that much more.

“y/n… anything to say?”

shit. you zoned out.

“oh, sorry joey.” you mumble out, closing your eyes and shaking your head lightly. “i mean… i’m glad that you feel the same way. i think i might be a little mad at you later, but right now i’m trying to process this all. but… it’s cool that i said all that?”

“yeah, it’s cool. is it cool that i said that? and would it be cool if i said i loved you back?” he asks, a playful lilt to his tone.

“i mean they do call you joe cool, so, everything you do is cool.” you smile down at him, and he matches your expression. you let your hands wander to the nape of his neck, lightly scratching at his hair.

he sits up, pressing his chest into yours, nose inches from your own. something is starting to feel oddly familiar.

“and if i kissed you? that’d be super cool right?”

“the coolest.”

his hands come back up to cup your cheeks as he brings his lips to yours gently. you gasp out in shock. they’re softer than they were in your dream, and he doesn’t taste like mint. he tastes more like mango. probably all the damn body armor, you think to yourself.

as he deepens the kiss, slowly and sweetly, you reach over and pinch yourself.

“did you just… pinch your arm?” he asks, breaking away from your lips to catch his breath.

“yeah… so you know how i looked like a sweaty disheveled mess when you got here?”

“i’m familiar. you still do.”

you smack his arm. “well i was… kinda…” you start, then you bury your face in his neck.

“you were whacking it?” he laughs, tipping his head back.

“no fucker, i wasn’t whacking it.” you laugh too. “but i was having a pretty good sex dream. involving you. and me. and a lot of manhandling.”

you can feel your cheeks heating, your heart is beating hard again. “is that so?” he asks, teasing you again. “you wanna re-enact it?”

hell no. nope. this isn’t happening again. you can’t be, you aren’t dreaming again right?

you hop off his lap and run to the kitchen, turning on the cold tap and splashing water all over your face. you’re definitely awake. joe hops off the couch after you, laughing at your dramatics, something he’s very used to. before you know what’s happening, he’s rearing back and smacking your ass. hard.

“JOE!” you scream, jumping forward. “what, i figured that’d show you that you’re awake.” he shrugs, leaning against the counter smugly. you grab a cup from the cabinet, filling it with some of the cold water before finally turning off the faucet. you walk forward a few inches toward joe. “don’t start something you can’t finish.” he warns, wagging a finger at you. you start to tip the cup, but he’s moved in a flash, running out of the kitchen and down the hall.

you peek around the corner and joe is nowhere to be found. tiptoeing your way down the hall, you look into the bathroom quickly to see if joe’s hiding there. he isn’t. you keep walking, almost to your room. before you register what’s happening, a hard body is leaping at you then pressing you to the wall. the cup of cold water is spilled all over you as a result.

he’s laughing, face inches from your own. “what the hell, joe!” you exclaim, but soon you’re laughing too. joe leans back in to kiss you again and you gladly accept his lips, loving how they mold with your own.

he mumbles a little “jump” into your kiss, so you do and wrap your legs around his waist. your hands find his hair again, you weave your fingers between the shorts strands and tug lightly, earning a groan in response. joe nips at your bottom lip, pulling it slightly with his teeth.

he pulls back from the wall with your body still wrapped around his and walks you into your bedroom, and all of this is beginning to feel oddly familiar again. he tosses you on the bed. you look up at him with lustful eyes as he stares back at you. the air in the room is thick, heady.

“joey…” you breathe out, your voice lower than usual. your tone is dripping with arousal. you watch joe swallow, knowing he’s just as turned on as you. he’s in this moment too. as you’re peeling your now cold wet shirt off your body, you hear him respond.

“yeah, baby?”

his voice is deeper too. he sounds so gruff, so sexy, it’s almost like you can feel him speaking between your legs. whatever is happening in this moment is like your dream to the max. arousal and sexual tension to the nth degree.

“there’s something that didn’t happen in my dream that i really wanna do, is that okay?”

you slide off the bed and onto your knees, crawling forward a bit until you’re directly in front of him. “and what’s that?” he lilts, smirk crawling across his face again.

“i wanna suck your dick, joe.” you rasp. you watch as he tilts his head back, his eyes rolling. a small “fuck” escapes his lips. from your position on the floor you can see that’s at least half hard in his shorts. you reach up and grab the waistband, tugging his shorts down. joe shrugs his shirt off at the same time, leaving him completely bare to you.

his cock springs up, slapping against his stomach. somehow, someway, it’s bigger than what you imagined in your dream. you wrap a hand around the base and bring the head to your lips, sticking out your tongue to kitten lick at his tip teasingly. you take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him off.

what won’t fit into your mouth is being worked by your hand, in quick motions. you look up at joe through your eyelashes and he thinks he could cum right then. slurping sounds fill the room as you take him into your mouth eagerly, over and over again.

joe suddenly looks at you before grabbing your hair in a makeshift ponytail. “you want rough, right?” he rasps, his eyes hooded.

“mmmph… mhm.” you mumble, never removing his cock from your mouth. “tsk-tsk. talking with your mouthful. so rude.” he teases.

his hands tighten in your hair and he gives you one final glance before taking over control and beginning to fuck your mouth. you let your hand drop as joe finds a rhythm, pumping his hips forward as he holds your head into place.

tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes, your lips are starting to get sore, but you don’t care. the fact that joe is using you so roughly to get himself off is almost enough to have you creaming in your panties. after a few minutes of joe’s relentless face-fucking, you feel his hips stutter, but before he cums he pulls out from your mouth with a loud pop.

“stand up.” he commands, his voice low and gravelly. you rise to your feet before him, craning your neck up so you can look into his eyes. he lifts you again, your legs wrapping around his waist. he walks you closer to the bed again, plopping you down onto it.

he’s still standing above you, his gaze is giving you chills. it’s almost like a switch has flipped, like he remembered suddenly how this all came to fruition. that you love how much bigger he is than you, you fantasize about him throwing you around, and he intends to use that to his advantage.

“strip.”

you stay still for a few seconds as you try to process what’s happening and gauge joe’s reactions, but when he repeats himself you strip immediately, starting by unclasping your bra and then taking off your shorts and panties, tossing them aside aimlessly. you lay bare before him and, just like your dream, you feel confident. his eyes rake over your form and he licks his lips.

joe leans over you, finally climbing into your bed, slotting his knee between your legs. “look at you, all spread out. you’re perfect, y/n. fucking perfect.” you shudder.

he brushes your hair away from your neck and starts kissing along the column, the tip of his nose occasionally brushing your ear lobe. your soft moans fill the room, but you let out a sharp gasp as he moves his leg up, pressing his thigh against your core. joe chuckles against your throat.

“joey, i can’t take it anymore, please.” you beg, scratching at his shoulders. he moves away from your neck slowly, you can see his pupils blown wide as his eyes once again rake over your naked body. you grind down on his leg, searching for something, any kind of friction to ease the ache in your already soaking wet core.

he begins kissing your lips again, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip and you part them for him, his tongue melding with your own. he snakes a hand down your body as he moves his thigh away from you, and you whine at the loss of contact. his kisses trail down your throat again, over the soft planes of your collarbones, and onto your chest. his tongue slowly drags over your nipple, flicking around the hard bud.

finally, his hand makes its way between your legs, the tips of his calloused fingers making contact with your swollen clit. he slides his hand lower to gather some of your wetness before rubbing tight circles against your clit.

“j-joey, ah fuck..” you moan out, pressing yourself down into his hand. “please fuck me, joe. i need it so bad.”

you’ve never been more sexually frustrated than you are in this moment. even though you’re with joe, he’s touching and kissing you, your burning desire and needs aren’t being satiated. you need him to fuck you, rough and hard.

“needy, huh?” he laughs, kissing the valley between your breasts. you want to answer, but the words get caught in your throat and instead you just let out a strangled whine. joe smirks, wondering if you’ll get there just from him touching your clit. he lowers his hand, dipping two fingers into you as his thumb takes over your clit, your body jerks as a reaction.

you arch your back off the bed, pressing down as hard as you can onto joe’s fingers as he works them in and out of you. when he suddenly stops, you scream frustratedly.

“calm down, princess.” he says, his smarmy tone filling your ears and making you want to slap him. you look down, watching joe as he finally grabs his hard length and strokes it a few times. he slowly presses his tip into you and you whine at the stretch of him. your eyes are screwed closed, your breath coming out in short puffs as he inches forward slowly, until he’s completely seated inside you.

“it’s so big joe,” you groan, your voice completely fucked out.

“or maybe you’re just really small, baby.”

what a fucker, you think. he grabs your legs at the thighs and brings them up, hooking your knees over his shoulders. he pressed his weight into you so that your knees are next to your head, and from this position you can feel everything. every inch, every vein. it’s euphoric.

his hips start moving finally, and you bite your arm to stifle a loud scream that threatens to break through your lips. joe roughly moves your arm away from your face.

“fuck no, let me hear you. let everyone around hear who’s making you feel this good.” his dominance reverberates through your bones. maybe this is what heaven is like?

you don’t say anything, but you allow every sound, every breath and gasp of pleasure fall from your gaping maw as joe pounds you relentlessly into your mattress.

“you look so pretty like this baby, you’re taking it so well. thought it’d be to big for you.” he teases, his hand finding your throat. once again, something similar to your dream. but this is reality, and that makes it a thousand times better. “joe, i’m so close.. please, i’m..”

although his actions are dominant, the way he’s pressed against you, his large frame caging your much smaller one against the bed, and his large hands are holding you down, the sincere love and affection that’s shown in his eyes is what’s going to take you right to that edge and drop you off.

“open your mouth.” he commands. you do as you are told, too into the moment to even argue. you part your lips, and suddenly joe is spitting right into your mouth. “swallow it.” who are you to say no?

you obey him. his hand finds your clit once more and after a few erratic strokes of his fingertips over your swollen bud you’re coming, harder than you ever have before. every nerve ending in your body is set ablaze, white hot fire spreading over your skin.

in this moment, all you know is joe.

your orgasm prompts his own as your heat tightens around him, and after a few pumps he’s filling you up before falling forward and pressing his sweaty forehead against your own. your eyes are still closed, but you know he’s smiling. you’re smiling too.

joe pulls out of you and you both hiss. you feel him move from the bed, and you hear his footsteps pattering down the hall to your bathroom as he turns the shower on. when he comes back, your eyes are open, waiting to see his face.

“come on,” he says, lifting you up. “let’s go clean up.”

he helps you stand in the shower, and the intimacy of the moment feels easy for you both, it’s comfortable. you’re thankful for that. he helps you wash, your body and your hair, and then the two of you stand under the hot stream and laugh and talk after joe finishes cleaning himself.

as he helps you out from the shower, you can’t help but tease him. “risky move there cumming inside me, by the way. you want children this young? in your prime?”

“i know you’re on the pill, y/n. i know everything about you. plus, a kid with you wouldn’t be so bad.”

you’re instantly flustered at his answer, but you quickly brush it off. you keep talking as you both make your way down the hall and back to your room. “if you know everything about me then what am i thinking right now?”

he laughs as he walks into your closet, rummaging through a stack of his clothes that you keep there for him. he foregoes boxers, which makes you giggle, and you bite your lip as you watch him pull the pair of sweatpants he chose up over his ass. you make a mental note to get a handful of it soon.

he turns around, tossing you one of his old college shirts. “you’re thinking ‘wow, i really wanna order thai food and watch scream with my sexy hot best friend who just rocked my entire world.’ sound accurate?”

you laugh at his statement, but you agree. “damn joey, you’re good.” you walk over to your dresser to grab a pair of panties, slipping them on below the shirt joe gave you.

the two of you go out to your living room as you order your food and joe preps for the movie. the rest of your evening is spent cuddled up as you eat together and relax, another one of those moments of comfortable silence between you. the simplicity of just enjoying each other’s presence, something you both love.

you fall asleep with your head on joe’s chest, the soft lull of his breathing and the beating of his heart helping ease you into a lovely slumber.

wake in the morning, it’s because of a shrill ringing. this is familiar, you think. your body almost slips into panic mode, because no the fuck you did not dream this shit again, but when you feel joe’s hard body pressed against yours, and in nothing but gray sweatpants, you thank every god you can think of.

you look over to one of your end tables, noticing it’s his phone that’s ringing. from where you are, you can barely see it, so you crane your neck up to get a better look. you can see a girl's name and contact photo lighting up the screen.

okay, you tell yourself, don’t panic. he has a lot of friends and stuff. just wake joe up so he can answer it.

you shake him awake, his groggy eyes taking a moment to open.

“morning y/n.” he says, finally looking at you. you pick at your thumbnail nervously. “morning joey. your um- your phone was ringing.”

he reaches for it, tapping the screen to see his notifications. you see his expression drop, which makes you feel even more nervous.

“it’s my friend kate,” he starts, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. “i told her we could have brunch this morning since i didn’t figure i’d be busy… but that was before we— i didn’t know how our talk would go.” his guilty tone lets you know everything you need to know, that more than brunch was being planned.

you slide off the couch, walking back toward your room. joe is quick to follow. you turn, stopping him by placing a firm hand to his chest. “go have brunch, have a good time.” your small, defeated voice pierces joe right through the heart.

“y/n, please. i love you, i told you i love you. i want you to be mine. that’s all i want, from now til forever. just, let me explain all that to kate, okay? and then i’ll be back. we’ll spend the whole day together. does that sound good?” he’s groveling, you can tell. you can’t really be mad at him, because he made these plans prior to what has just happened between you, but you’re reminded of what he told you yesterday, and that pisses you off.

“fine, joey. go. we’ll talk when you get back.” you bite, turning on your heel and stalking off to your room, slamming the door behind you.

taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @bengals-barnesbabe @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 (i added everyone from the replies on part1 & all taglist requests- i hope that’s okay! 💗)

[little-diable]

Crimson River - Tyler Owens (smut)

This came to me while overthinking a situation I'm currently stuck in lol. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader and Tyler have been chatting online for months, and now it's time for them to finally meet in real life. Porn with some plot

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, some spitting, full on fluff

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (2.5k words)

“So, when will I get to share these songs with you face to face?” Her thumbs were hovering over her keyboard, eyes flickering from his text to her calendar. (Y/n)’s heart was pounding, beating in her chest while her teeth tugged on her lower lip.

It could be easy, too easy almost. 

“How’s the weekend looking for you, you busy tornado wrangler?” Heat shot to her cheeks, leaving her to burn up while putting down her phone. This was crazy, and yet she couldn’t find it in herself to back down, not when she could finally meet him.

Him, the guy she had been texting for months now.

Him, the guy she had first bonded over music with, sharing a similar taste. 

Him, the guy whose every storm chasing stream she had watched ever since he had shared more about himself with her. 

“If it means I get to see you, I’ll hold it free, sweetheart.” A chuckle broke out of her. (Y/n) deeply exhaled before shaking her head at her screen. This was crazy, but the best kind of crazy, something she desperately needed to rip herself out of her daily routine. 

“Count me in, I’ll book my flights now.”

……

Her thoughts were racing, just like her heart. (Y/n) moved with the big crowd, knowing that she was about to step out into the arrivals hall, where he was already waiting for her. She was unable to shake the heat sticking to her, still not fully realising that she was about to cross paths with the man she had been in touch with for months without ever meeting him. 

And then she instantly saw him, eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame, a gravitational field that left her buzzing in excitement. His strong arms found their way around her, pressing (y/n) against him while she sank into the hug. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally here.” With a kiss pressed to her temple, Tyler let go of her to reach for her bag. She could only smile up at him, taking in the handsome face she had seen on her screen too many times to count.

“Thank you for picking me up.” (Y/n) tried to rip her gaze from him, eyes set on the crowd he directed her through with one hand placed on her lower back. Her mind picked apart every little detail, their height difference, the scent of his cologne she’d probably never forget again, the way his warm hand felt pressed against her back. All of it left her buzzing, tingling in excitement. 

Only as she found herself sitting in his truck did she allow herself to relax and breathe. Tyler had instantly managed to lure her into a conversation, making her feel as if they had met up numerous times before today. And yet (y/n) still struggled to realise that this was really happening, that she was so close to the handsome man she had fostered a crush on for quite some time now. 

“I thought tonight we could go for something slow, maybe watch a movie? And tomorrow you’ll get to meet the crew.” He shot her one of his signature smiles, hand finding her thigh for a second. The touch felt intimate, shooting heat straight to the spot while her mind hyper fixated on the way electricity kept pushing through her as if lighting kept hitting her over and over again. 

“That sounds perfect, thank you.” She could already tell that a weekend was not nearly enough, parting again would hurt more than she could even imagine at that very moment. 

……

The screen of his TV kept flickering on, casting shadows in the spacey living room. It had been a while since they had arrived at his place. Both had opted for some downtime first before they’d get to cooking and sharing a meal. Even though she was slowly adjusting to being around Tyler, it still felt somewhat surreal, like a dream she’d be ripped from too soon.

“Hey, are you okay?” She had her feet pressed against his thigh, eyes flickering to them as Tyler softly squeezed her skin. The touch made her sink further into the couch, hoping that the way he made her feel wasn’t all that obvious to Tyler. But the smirk slowly tugging on his lips told her that he was all too aware of the way she struggled to hold it together, unable to speak much. 

Only a hum broke through (y/n), a sound that turned into a quiet gasp the second he tugged on her feet to place her legs over his thighs. One of his hands found space between her knees, grabbing her flesh while the other settled on top. 

How in God's name was she supposed to survive this? 

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” Tyler stopped the movie without taking his eyes off her features. She couldn’t help but wonder how he was already able to read her that well, how he managed to pick up on micro expressions even her closest friends would most likely miss. 

“It’s just surreal, all of this, finally talking to you and being close to you. I knew we’d get along well, but,” the rest of her sentence was lost in the quietness of the room. Tyler’s thumb stroked along the fabric of her trousers, patiently watching her.

“But this is different.” He finally managed to finish her sentence, unable to bite down the smile both couldn’t shake now. “I know what you mean, I was hoping it’d work that well like it does when we text, but this is so much better.” 

Another hum left (y/n), she pulled her legs from his grasp to shift around, finding confidence in the way he had just expressed what she had also been feeling. Slowly, carefully almost, (y/n) placed her head against his chest, instantly pulled closer by the arm finding its way around her. Tyler pressed a kiss to her hairline before he started the movie again, unable to see the bright smile she now wore, perfectly matching his.

……

(Y/n)’s legs were dangling off the kitchen counter, eyes following Tyler around as he cooked for them. Music was filling the kitchen, playing a playlist both had crafted over the past months, their own personal blend. Ever since their moment on the couch, both had been unable to shake their smiles, hearts racing in sync. 

“Here, do you like that?” Tyler found himself settling between her thighs, looking at her while pushing the spoon past her parted lips. The moment had something awfully intimate to it, pushing heat through both of them. (Y/n) could only nod her head, not noticing how her legs had loosely found their way around his thighs, keeping him close.

Tyler’s thumb found her mouth, brushing away a bit of sauce clinging to her skin, a touch that made her breath hitch in her chest. She kept looking at him, getting lost in the piercing eyes that had seen more tragic glimpses of this life than (y/n) could ever imagine, and yet they were filled with a burning longing. 

For a few more seconds they kept holding eye contact, torn apart by his phone timer going off. Tyler had to clear his throat before he could focus on finishing dinner, trying not to pay her intense gaze any of his attention. He knew all too well that he was close to snapping, close to crossing the last line between them to press his lips against hers.

But as much as Tyler wanted to kiss her, to taste her like he had done numerous times in his dreams, he knew that he should take things slow. He didn’t want to push things too far on their first night together, all Tyler was focused on was seeing her comfortable and happy.

“We could eat outside if you want, stars should be out by now.” Her heart was close to jumping out of her chest, freed by the heat his words made her feel. Months ago he had shared a picture of the starry sky he was fortunate enough to look at whenever he was home, a sight that had left her to confess that she desperately wanted to see them too.  

“Thank you, Tyler.” (Y/n)’s words carried more meaning than he picked up on, not seeing through the adoration swimming in her pupils. 

……

“Tyler.” (Y/n) mumbled his name, eyes set on his features. They were still sitting on the bench outside his home, sharing a blanket to keep them shielded from the cold night. His eyes flickered down to meet hers, patiently waiting for her to keep on speaking. “Will you finally kiss me?”

Her words drew a loud laugh from him, he shook his head at (y/n) who could only grin up at him. Tyler’s hand found her cheek, wordlessly asking her to keep on looking at him while his eyes wandered over her features, “And here I was trying to be a gentleman.”

(Y/n)’s reply was lost on the tip of her tongue as he dipped his head down. Tyler’s lips ghosted over her’s, drawing a soft whine out of (y/n) as he kept a small distance between them. Only as her hand found his jacket, tugging on the fabric to pull him closer, did he properly kiss her. 

The kiss shot shudders down her spine, making hairs rise on her forearms while shuffling closer. Within moments she found herself straddling his lap, front pressed against his to cross any distance still lingering between them like two lonely ships crossing the sea to find back to one another, guided by nothing but their need to be close. 

Their lips moved perfectly together, the kiss wasn't rushed, but it was fuelled by their longing which had grown stronger over the past months. Tyler’s hands settled on her waist, fingers toying with the hemline of her sweater, set on feeling her warm skin pressed against his. For a moment they broke apart, grasping onto new air to fill their burning lungs. 

“Stop me anytime you want, sweetheart.” (Y/n) searched his lips again, not giving Tyler a chance to speak another word while his hands found her burning up skin. Her wandering fingers found his hairs, brushing through them to draw a moan from Tyler, a sound that vibrated on her lips and through her whole body. 

He didn’t speak a warning as he suddenly stood up, holding onto (y/n) to carry her back inside. With her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his waist, she let him carry her inside and towards his bedroom. Both were heavily breathing after pulling apart, chests rising and falling while chuckles broke out of them.

(Y/n) let him pull her sweater over her head, exposing her bra to his wandering eyes. The groan rumbling through Tyler made her grin, letting her hands reach for his belt loops to pull him closer, expertedly undoing his belt, “I know we should take this slow, but I really need you to fuck me now after all these months.”

“You’re killing me, sweetheart.” Their eyes held contact as she freed his hardening cock, letting his trousers drop to the ground. Tyler’s moans spurred her on, allowing her to marvel at the handsome man while pumping his length a few times. But Tyler didn’t have the patience to drag this out long enough, he gave her a push back, tugged her trousers and panties down her legs while (y/n) undid her bra. “You’re the prettiest sight, fuck, I’m the luckiest man.”

“Says you, I mean look at you.” She could only stare at him as the rest of his clothing was dropped, exposing his abs and his muscular chest – all while his fingers began to wander up her legs. He pressed kisses to her soft skin, sucking on her flesh as his fingertips ghosted over her warm folds, feeling her arousal already sticking to her skin. 

Tyler kept his gaze on her features as he spat down on her heat, spreading his saliva on her warm skin. He circled her pulsing bundle a few times to draw soft moans from (y/n), needing to hear them as if they were his favourite drug, high on her sounds. For a second, he parted from her to find a condom, to roll it down his cock, and to brush his tip through her folds. 

“Look at me, sweetheart.” (Y/n) looked up at Tyler, feeling herself getting choked up from the way he looked at her. Something she’d only be able to describe as love swam in his pupils – a love so intense it only grew stronger as he pushed into her. Her eyes instantly fluttered shut at the sensation, fingernails scratching at his skin, walls fluttering around him. Tyler held still for a second, giving her time to adjust before he dipped his head down to kiss her.

Their bodies met with every thrust, allowing (y/n) to feel him deep inside of her, stretching her with every move. With every contact even more sinful sounds began to claw through them, reverberating through his bedroom like a song woven together from shared experiences and unspoken longings. 

“You feel so good, fuck, Tyler.” Her words left him chuckling, he kissed his way down her throat, finding the spots that made her arch her back while she tightened the grasp of her legs around his waist. Tyler was fully focused on making her cum first, needing to watch her fall over the edge while knowing that he was the reason for the sweet sensation she was about to get tangled up in. 

“Touch yourself, sweetheart, make yourself cum on my cock.” Tyler’s voice grew raspier and lower with every syllable he spoke. Both were staring at one another, wordlessly telling them that they were ready to let go any moment now. Her fingers moved fast, giving herself the needed push with his name bleeding from her lips.

Tyler found himself falling in love with (y/n) some more as she came, eyes taking in every inch of her pleasure drunken features. He gave it a few more thrusts before he came, letting go with a groan while (y/n) kept clinging to him. 

“Christ, you’re perfect.” He pressed another kiss to her lips before pulling out. And at that moment, Tyler knew that he’d have to confess his feelings soon. Not tonight, perhaps not tomorrow morning, but the love bleeding from the tip of his tongue like a crimson river would pave the way for their following time together soon enough.

[heich0e]

you're almost giddy as you run your hands underneath the stream of cool water rushing from the sink's tap, an effervescence fizzling in the pit of your stomach as the sound of running water whooshes through your ears. you watch the soap suds circle the drain as your teeth bite down against the side of your cheek.

on the other side of the restroom door, you can hear the distant din of the restaurant creeping in, reminding you of where you are. the sound spurs you on and quickly, haphazardly, you shake whatever water is left clinging to the tips of your fingers away once the soap suds are gone—too eager to even bother with properly drying them. next, you fish your cellphone out from inside the little purse you'd brought with you that evening.

you tap the name at the top of your recent call log, and your roommate answers after two rings.

"date goin' so bad yer calling in the black ops squad for rescue? what's our story gonna be this ti—"

atsumu sounds entirely too pleased by the prospect of your date going badly, and it makes you all too happy to cut him off.

"it's going really well," you say, nearly breathless in your delight. it's been a while since you've been this... excited about a date. about a guy. "too well, actually."

"oh?" atsumu's voice lifts in surprise, but he doesn't say a whole lot else.

you hum affirmatively, reaching into your purse again to pull out a tube of lip gloss, pinning your phone between your ear and your shoulder to free up your hands to unscrew the lid. your eyes are fixed to the reflection of your mouth in the mirror as you swipe a thin coat across your lips. "i need a favour."

"'n what's that?" atsumu asks, his voice drying out into a monotone that indicates his distinct lack of trust.

"can you go in my room and shove any mess i left out into my closet?" you ask him before rubbing your lips together to evenly coat them in their lacquered shine.

atsumu guffaws from the other line. "'m i yer maid?"

"a second ago you were ready to go full boots on the ground as the black ops squad," you chide him. there's a moment of silence that passes in the restaurant bathroom, you can't even hear him breathing from the other line. finally, you speak again—softer this time, more sincere. "please, tsumu. i really like him."

he clicks his tongue behind his teeth in that admonishing way you hate, but there's a certain concession in the sound. "yer doing my laundry for a week."

"if the rest of the night goes as well as dinner, i'll do it for a month," you laugh, your cheeks pinching with how widely you smile.

"when are ya landin' here?"

"probably in like... an hour? we're just gonna have another drink or two." he grunts in recognition, even if he doesn't seem thrilled about it. "thanks, 'tsumie. i owe you one."

"ya owe me at least four," he grumbles. "try 'n keep it down once ya come stumblin' in all handsy and whatever, will ya? i don't need to hear all that."

"promise, promise!" you singsong. "you're the best."

"whatever," he answers with a stiff laugh, ending the call soon after.

you quickly tuck your phone back into your purse, adjust yourself one last time in the mirror, and then slip back out into the restaurant towards your waiting date.

the rest of your evening passes much the same as the rest had already unfolded—though something between you and the young man seems to shift as time goes on, turns more palpably yearning. it's no surprise that when you ask him if he'd like to come back to your place with you, he quickly agrees.

"is your roommate home?" atsushi—who you'd met at a work event a few weeks prior, and had been talking to ever since—asks quietly as you two step through the door of your higashiosaka apartment. he's pressed close to you in the genkan, a hand on your waist as he toes off his shoes, and his warmth makes you suppress a shiver.

you hum. "he sleeps like the dead though."

atsushi knows about atsumu, having revealed to him not long after you started texting that your long-time friend turned professional volleyball player is now your roommate. atsushi seemed to know who atsumu was, and even noted he looked forward to meeting him, but that would have to wait for another day.

there were more important things at hand.

you twine your fingers with atsushi's, using that grip to lead him towards your bedroom on the other side of the quiet apartment as your heartbeat thumps—hot and wet and noisy—in your chest. you close the door to your bedroom quietly behind you, and before you even have time to reach for the light switch you feel a soft pair of lips against your throat.

"oh," you gasp, your hands reaching up and threading through the silky strands of atsushi's hair.

it's an uncoordinated blur after that as you lead your date blindly towards your bed in the dark, tumbling back across it in a flurry of limbs and lust.

atsushi's hands slip up underneath the hem of your dress as he pants against your mouth. you wiggle a bit to help him ease it up over your hips, but there's something soft underneath you that makes it a bit awkward—a pillow taking up too much space. he goes to push the pillow off the bed, but it's bigger than either of you seem to anticipate.

he pulls back, squinting at it in the dark. he laughs, tugging the unexpectedly large mass up from underneath you. "what is this?"

you can't quite identify it, reaching over to your bedside table and flicking on the light to get a better look.

you really wish you hadn't.

in his hands, atsushi is holding a—not quite life-sized, but certainly much too large—pillow with atsumu in his MSBY uniform printed across it. you're so shocked by it that it takes you a moment to see anything else, but atsushi is not so fortunate.

"uh," his voice cracks a little as he peers around your room. "is this—?"

pasted on virtually any open space on your walls, and lining the various shelves and dressers of your room, atsumu's obnoxious face stares back. it's like the MSBY merch stall has set up shop in your bedroom—the only thing missing is the lineup of squealing teens fighting over the last sakusa jersey.

you're seeing red.

"i'm so sorry," you say, mortified, as you scramble upright in your bed and look at atsushi's startled face. "atsumu must have... i asked him to... oh my god."

you take the body pillow that atsushi still has clutched in his hands, more in shock than anything, and throw it onto the floor. he laughs a little, shaking his head.

"well, i definitely wasn't expecting that."

"this isn't my stuff, i swear," you insist.

he laughs again, but this time it's less strained, almost a giggle. he peeks over at you. "i believe you."

you bite your lip. "did this scare you off?"

he shakes his head, smiling shyly. "nah."

you sigh in relief as he dips down and kisses you again, cradling the nape of your neck as he leans you back in your bed once more. your head is spinning as he presses himself between your parted thighs, grinding gently against you. your eyes flutter open as you moan, but that sound turns into a small shriek of surprise that has him recoiling upright.

taped to the ceiling over your bed, almost perfectly mirroring your own position, an enormous poster of atsumu stares down at you.

that breaks you.

you slip out from underneath atsushi, standing on your bed and ripping the poster down as you reach up on your tiptoes. the sound of the glossy paper ripping is almost violently loud in the quiet of your bedroom.

"i'll be right back," you say, stiff but apologetic, to your bewildered date, before fleeing from the room.

you don't knock when you get to atsumu's room, throwing the door open and stomping inside.

he's sitting in his bed, watching something on his phone with a pair of headphones covering his ears. he looks up in surprise when you come storming in, and his gaze goes from amused to concerned when he sees the look on your face.

"what the fuck is wrong with you?" you seethe, struggling to keep your voice low in spite of your desire to scream. you're still clutching a shred of the torn poster in your clenched fist, and you toss it onto his floor angrily. he pushes his headphones down to rest around his neck.

"aw, c'mon," he laughs as he sits up a little straighter in his bed, but the sound is a bit forced. "'s just a joke."

"well, it wasn't funny."

atsumu's jaw twitches a little bit. "if the guy got scared off by a harmless little—"

"he didn't get scared off," you hiss, "no thanks to you."

that shuts him up.

"he's still in my room, by some fucking miracle." your hands are shaking, that's how angry you are. you feel sick. "i told you i really like him, atsumu. why would you do that?"

you wish you didn't sound so wounded. you wish atsumu's answering expression wasn't so blank in the wake.

"god," you say, with a mirthless laugh. "when are you going to grow up?"

if atsumu wants to say more, you don't give him the chance. you spin on your heel and head towards the door, but just before you exit the room, you look back at him one last time. your eyes are narrowed in resentment and sharpened with hurt.

"you're gonna wanna turn that volume up, because i don't plan on keeping it down for your sake."

atsumu says nothing in reply, just stares at you. there's something almost desperate in his gaze that you don't understand, and make no attempt to.

you leave his door open behind you as your final act of spite.

[atskiruma]

he makes you cry

expl: he doesn't usually care about others' feelings, so how was he supposed to know what he did to you was mean?

a/n: appalled that this is my first time doing my favorite geo boy, appalled and ashamed; also exhausted this might not be my best work, requests sent will be fulfilled soon, i just need some rest! just got hired at a job that i went for an interview with today, so work will slowly be coming out later and later, sorry!

ask me anything

masterlist

second-person writing no pronouns used, 2,818 words

Xiao was not fond of caring about others' emotions, nor did it ever occur to him that he should care. He tried to keep his life as simple and as peaceful as possible because he deserved it after everything he went through before. Which was why he was so confused when someone would cry in front of him. Xiao never cried when times were hard, what made those salty tears escape human eyes so easily?

Most of the time, he never saw people cry, and if he did, he ignored it. That's how he was taught to deal with emotion, he'd ignore it.

It began when you were up in your room at the Inn, minding your business and trying to figure out how to make the woven bracelet that the Traveler had taught you. Frankly, it was pretty difficult, and when the Traveler was teaching you, you were so busy watching them that you never actually learned.

The hours were beginning to fly by and you could hardly make out the original pattern you were trying to replicate. Repeated failures over and over and piling yarn began to stack up on the bed next to you. It was when you had finally gotten it down to only mess up again because something distracted you was when you finally snapped.

Throwing the bracelet across the room where it rested under the table, streams of hot tears began to roll down your cheeks in frustration. You were doing everything right, why wasn't it working!

It happened to be the same time you were leaving your room when Xiao was strolling down the hallway. The two of you made eye contact and his eyes flew to where the tears were running toward the bottom of your neck. His eyes widened only a little bit and his mouth opened and closed like a fish only to not know what to say.

You also stood still and stared at him. Why? Maybe you were just waiting for him to comfort you or you were curious about what he had to say. But when it was clear that he'd keep gapping like a fish, you started to walk off again. Only for him to grab your wrist before you made it too far and pull you a bit toward him.

"Are you okay?" He asked in a soft voice, hardly making eye contact with you and finding his shoes on the floor more entertaining. It was shocking to see him show such concern in general, but you remembered why you were upset and started to ball again. Pushing yourself into his chest and crying warm tears into his shirt.

His hands fumbled on the sides of you for a while until he rested them softly on your hips. Awkwardly patting you in a form of reassurance he'd never shown anyone before.

His face was pretty flat when you began to show signs of distress and sadness. Albedo was too focused on his experiment to even realize that something went wrong on your end. The sound of a beaker crashing to the floor sounded across the room, but he still kept looking forward, hardly hearing anything at all.

That sound kept up for a while, you were pretty sure you broke at least 5 beakers in the time it took for you to get them from the spare cabinet. It wasn't until the 6th beaker that you managed to catch did Albedo actually turn around to see what had happened.

His experiment seemed to be going fine, the color of the liquid sitting at the bottom of the beaker matching the picture right next to it perfectly. You sighed when you saw he had already beaten you to make the antidote.

"I don't know how you do it 'bedo. This one is probably the most difficult I've done." You said before wiping your forehead which was littered with sweat from how hard you'd been concentrating.

"Just try again, I'm sure you'll be able to complete it." He said, his encouraging words going little to no length and falling straight to the floor. It didn't help that the trashcan full of your previous broken beakers was so close. It was extremely discouraging to see how much damage you've caused just trying to learn how to brew the antidote.

Then Albedo took his leave, putting his things down when he realized the clock read 9 PM. Bidding you goodbye, he looked back one last time with his handle on the doorknob and spoke. "Humans sometimes do not carry the skill to complete such a difficult task, do not push yourself to do something you simply can't achieve."

And then the door shut. All you did was stare at where he previously had been, his words repeating in an endless loop shrinking infinitely into your mind.

"Huh?" Was all you said before a warm feeling rushed down your cheeks and landed on the toe of your shoes. Did he just call me stupid? You thought to yourself. The frustration you felt along with the fact that he just said that, caused a rush of salty tears to leave your eyes. Your eyelashes stuck together as tears mended them together.

You continued to stand there and cry, until the door opened again and the alchemist stuck his head back in the door, announcing he forgot something towards the floor. That was until he lifted his head up to see you standing there, crying. For once, he stood still and just stared at you unable to conjure any words for the scene he was witnessing.

The sniffles and the silent sounds of tears padding the floor were all that was making sound in the room. As Albedo continued to stare at you like the two of you were playing a game of freeze tag.

"I'm stupid aren't I 'bedo?" You said, which made him flinch when the sound of the nickname you gave him came out in a harsh and rude manner. "Too stupid to figure out the dumb potion because I'm just a mere human in your eyes."

"What're you talking about?" He said, with the quietest and most emotion-full voice you've ever heard him use. Albedo continued to step closer to you, almost as if he was never moving at all. When he finally did reach you, his hand brushed against your cheek and his eyes held so much concern it could fill up the sea.

"I don't think you're lesser than me, is this about what I said? I didn't mean it like that..."

You kept sniffling while looking at him, still stubborn for more than what he was giving you. His arms reached around you and held you close, something he often did when Klee would sob, which he learned from Jean.

The two of you stood like that for a while, until the blazing sun rested its eyes in the distance, and the sorrowful moon began to creep up the valley.

"What is wrong with you??" Tighnari's harsh voice came out in a way you only heard once in a while. His irritated look glared at you from where you stood, all you had done was knock down a few books, but it looked like other things were really beginning to upset him.

You expected to greet the forest ranger and spend some time together, seeing as the both of you made those plans a while ago, but it seems that he was really busy with something that he was supposed to finish a while ago.

He whipped his head back to look at the beakers on the table, making a very loud and audible sigh at your appearance here. "I'm busy, so make another time for..." He waved his hands around dramatically and quick, "Whatever it was you were planning and leave me be."

You stood silent for a while, shocked that he was giving you such an attitude, but at the same time, you had no idea how to respond to what he said. So, you did just that and didn't respond, turning on your heels and leaving. Unfortunately, Tighnari didn't hear you leave and assumed you were still sitting there waiting for him like usual. So when he turned around and opened his mouth to address you and apologize, he stopped in his tracks to see you weren't there.

When you saw Tighnari again, it was actually just his voice you had heard and your eyes didn't flicker to see if it was actually him. Collei was holding some sort of dinner for the forest rangers in the area, to both thank them and congratulate her for beating Eleazar. But you finally did see him when it was too late, and you were bumping into the forest ranger with food in your hands.

A shocked gasp came out of your mouth till the echoed noise of a bowl rumbled onto the ground and crashed down, the food flying along with it. Your distressed state increased, and you immediately flew down to try and clean it up.

In fact, you were so busy trying to clean the bowl of food that had spilled over that you didn't even realize the forest ranger was standing behind you with his hands behind his back. Until the call of your name was repeated for the 3rd time, did you turn around to look at him, tears in your eyes from how frustrated you were?

Tighnari's eyes widened before he immediately dropped to his knees and put his hand on your shoulder for comfort. It shocked him to see you in such a vulnerable state, especially with how cheery you always seemed around him.

"What happened? Are you alright?" Tighnari said, before moving his eyes down to the food splattered all over the dirt. You didn't even realize how much helping out at the party would stress you out. As soon as Tighnari muttered the words are you alright, tears flooded out more and more as you tried to hide your face in your hands. Your shoulders and body shook with how much you were crying. Tighnari moved closer to you and shielded you with his body.

Not only did he treat you terribly before, but the first time he sees you in days, you were crying? His heart felt like it could break then and there. His hand came around your back to soothingly rub circles on it while you continued to sob. His ears even flattened a bit on his head in guilt.

When Collei had come around the corner to see the pasta salad splattered on the ground, and Tighnari hugging you with his tail between his legs. She smiled and sighed a bit, before walking away to leave you two be.

It felt like a long time while the two of you sat like that, his hand never stopping to rub your back. You finally pulled away to look at him and Tighnari rested his hand on your cheek in a comforting manner.

"I'm sorry I treated you like that, I was irritated and you came in at a bad time. I never want to hurt you." His guilt-written face and ears practically flattened to his head making your heart beat in a painful rhythm.

"You can make it up to me by helping me clean this up?" You said as a sly grin grew a little bit on your face. He smiled back and rolled up his sleeves to begin cleaning.

Scaramouche was a mean boy, everyone knew that he had no filter and he acted as if he didn't care about anyone when in reality it was the exact opposite.

"You're pathetic!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, looking at your shocked expression and stance from across the room. You had just failed to do the task that Nahida assigned you again, and it seemed like the newly-found anemo holder was growing more and more impatient watching you fail over and over.

"Excuse me?" You spat back, clearly irritated with his outburst and pushiness. Scaramouche scoffed again before trailing over to where you were, Nahida watching the interaction from her desk.

"You've been doing it all wrong, and that pathetic idiot brain can't seem to comprehend that." His fingers flew a swift flick to your head, pushing you back a centimeter. "If you keep failing, shouldn't you be trying something else instead of pushing the same solution over and over? Moron."

His insults over and over were hurting, sure, but you were used to it. When you felt good. Right now, this was the last thing you needed after failing again and again. At one point you even glanced over at Nahida after failing and saw her face look a bit reluctant about your skills. Which increased your anxiety tenfold.

"I never knew someone could be so stupid. I even worked with morons every day in the Fatui, but none match up to how idiotic you are." Scaramouche just kept blasting insult after insult at you. What was with him today? Was he really that peeved you didn't wait for him in the morning to walk over here?

Moving aside and putting your hands up defensively, you made way for the prince and his smart brain. He moved in front of you and began looking down at what you were doing. It looked like Nahida was still working with you on Fermat's Last Theorem, which was an extremely difficult math equation, back in the 17th century. Scaramouche made a noticeable eye roll before sitting down to begin writing out how to solve it.

What he didn't see was your reaction to the last flinching insult he threw your way. He didn't witness the tears swell up in your eyes and he also didn't see you walk away and leave the sanctuary. Only witnessing your presence gone when he looked up to turn another sarcastic comment towards you. Scaramouche's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before looking around him to see where you went. He turned towards Nahida when he couldn't find you and she looked up at him before looking back down at her papers.

"Tsk, whatever." He pushed his seat back and sat up to leave, wondering what he should have for dinner instead of concerning himself with where you went. It wasn't until later in the evening when he saw you again, sitting back at the desk, not uttering an obnoxious sigh or an irritating "What does this mean??"

He eased himself over to you with his hands in his pockets before leaning behind your shoulder to see what you were doing. You were working on the problem again, but his copy of it was nowhere to be seen, that is until he looked towards the trash and saw his handwriting on the paper barely crumpled and resting near the top of the bin.

"You threw away my paper?" He said with irritation lining every letter. You kept writing though and paid him no mind. The silent treatment seemed to be really riling him up because he continued to berate you over and over as you sat there taking it and continuing to work.

It was only an hour later that it really started to bother him with you being quiet. Maybe what he said earlier was too harsh, he didn't really feel that bad, but if it meant you weren't going to speak to him then he had to do something.

Leaning over you again, he placed his hand on your upper arm, grabbing your attention from the unusual act. His eyes met yours and held the stare for a couple seconds before he spoke,

"I'm sorry." That was all he said.

You raised an eyebrow at him, before squinting your eyes in confusion and responding.

"Sorry for what..?" The sarcasm dripped from every syllable and landed on his fragile ego.

His eyes widened and he took his hand from your arm, frowning and shouting back,

"I don't repeat myself! Accept the apology I gave you."

"You're such a child, does saying sorry really hurt that bad?"

"You heard me!"

Your eyes rolled and you turned back to your paper as if you were going back to ignoring him, his eyes softened again and he grabbed your arm once more.

"I'm sorry I said those mean words to you. I didn't mean it, I don't like it when you leave without me and I don't like it when you're upset."

When he grabbed your arm, you didn't turn to face him again, but after hearing the words he spoke, you turned again with a smile on your face and leaned closer to his.

The blush was evidently growing the more you leaned in, and you could see his adam's apple bob with nervousness.

"I accept your apology Kunikuzushi."

[ellieslittleslutt]

Two Clicks Away

streamer!ellie x streamer!reader

cw: fluff??? idk tbh but mainly js ellie being a loser

When ellie first started out on twitch she didnt have much followers nor viewers. she would sit at her shitty setup playing mainly resident evil 4 and fortnite. she would mainly just be talking to herself cursing out little kids when they killed her. ellie quickly grew over time getting over 500k followers and she had girls practically going FERAL over her “dominate me- WOAH THERE”

during her 500k special stream, she was going through the videos all her viewers sent her some were… questionable. she was sent a video of you. it was a clip from one of your streams basically just you yapping, a viewer in the chat asked you about your opinion on ellie “ thoughts on ellie williams? yeah she’s great! i really enjoy her minecraft and animal crossing streams, it’s so funny watching her rage over tom nook” you were laughing and the clip was basically you fangirling over her you face read and stumbling over your words.

ellies face was RED. she was blushing so much and she trying to hold back her nervous giggles, the truth is that she has had a massive crush on you ever since you started growing enjoying all your streams watching them all too nervous tp talk in the chat. what she didn't know is that you watched al her streams too.

the clip of Ellie getting all flustered on stream was going around on instagram, twitter, tumblr, reddit, anywhere she had a fans on really. it soon caught your attention and you saw how nervous she got at the clip so you decided to dm her on insta

bugwbitess: hey :)

what ellie didn't know is that you have such a huge crush on her keeping a folder of edits of ellie on you tik tok. ellie was doing a stream of shitty roblox horror games and she was scared out of her mind but wouldn’t let her viewers know. she saw the notification ‘bugbitess sent you a message.’ she was taking a break when you sent her the message “hack… fuck.. cough… oh shit.. wheeze..”

after the brief moment of panicking she soon mustered up the courage to reply and tried to seem like she didnt just almost choke because a cute girl was in her dms.

dinodestroyer: heyyy

‘fuck was that too many y’s?’ she mumbled to herself almost shaking holding her phone. “sorry about that chat i’m back” she says with an awkward chuckle and going back to the game.

the second you saw her message your face heated up red. you had no idea how much she was panicking and she had no idea how much you were too. “why the fuck are there so many y’s?” you say a loud with a slight giggle. you thought it was cute like she was nervous or something.

bugbitess: by any chance would you be interested in a colab? ik it’s a long shot but it’ll be fun :)

you thought it was probably very straight forward and soon but fuck it you like her and you’re pretty sure she likes you.

🦖

ellie didn’t reply for a while, first off because she wanted to finish her stream, secondly because she wanted to seem like she wasn’t waiting desperately by the phone (looking back at that she realizes that was probably a dick move). when she did reply it was 2 am so she was surprised to see you awake.

dinodestroyer: yeah ofc i would love that! when were you thinking of?

bugbitess: minecraft sound good?

dinodestroyer: sounds great i’ll call you on disc tomorrow 8 pm :)

bugbitess: see you then!

the truth is that ellie really hated minecraft. like seriously rage quits it too much for a healthy amount.. but since it was a cute girl asking her she of course had to say yes.

the next day when you guys started up the stream the chat was so confused “okay so bugbites is here and we’re playing minecraft today which i’m extremely good at” ellie says proudly and you just laugh “sure you are” you say starting up the game.

“dude what the fuck is thi- AGHH!” ellie screeched her voice cracking, you were saving her from a zombie spawner trying your best not to fold over laughing.

after a few hours of playing together ellie finally rage quit because she suffocated in gravel, “you shouldn’t be able to drown in gravel that’s just stupid!” she complained. “calm down it’s video game logic” you giggle .you guys end the stream but stay on call a little longer just to talk. “ellie?” you ask while she was drawing doing her own thing “yeah?”

“would you like to go out with me?”

an: erm so this is my first time writing an actual one shot so please be nice. I LOVE HER SM OMG OMG KMG

[beah388love]

So Cheesy…

Full Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!f1 driver

Summary: Lando uses the cheesiest pick up line on you…

Warnings: swearing,bad language!!! (Please tell me if I missed any!!!)

Lando was streaming with ginge and filly, playing a shooting game whilst you was in yours and landos bedroom watching tv, Lando asked if you wanted to stay in the room with him or stream with him but you didn’t feel up for it and he understood so instead you chilled on your shared bed.

You was confused when you saw your phone light up and even more confused when you saw it was Lando? Why’s he messaging you when he’s literally in the room next to you.

“I miss you” you read from your screen and you rolled your eyes with a smile you couldn’t hold back.

“It’s only been ten minutes.” You typed back

“Still too long.” He messaged back making you smile

“Well I miss you too my adorable boyfriend” you typed with a cheeky grin and hit send.

Lando smiled when he saw your message, “Oi mate! Where are you? He’s shooting me!” Ginge said through lando’s headset catching his attention.

“Oh- sorry! Follow me and we can kill them” lando said back as he grabbed his controller again.

But he still had his phone on his desk so he can see your texts.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Ginge asked laughing and Lando bit his lip trying to hide his smile but failed miserably.

“Who are you texting?” Ginge asked when he saw Lando on his phone smiling, “whoever they are they’re very distracting since you died five minutes ago” ginge joked making filly laugh.

“It’s y/n” Lando smiled as he put his phone down onto his desk again, “you should do that thing where you message her a cheesy pick up line” ginge said

“Oh yeah you should- y/n will be so confused” filly laughed and Lando grinned thinking about it.

“Alright…what pick up line though?” Lando asked as he began searching for some on the internet.

“How about this one? Are you a broom because you’ve swept me off my feet” lando said through his microphone trying to hold in his laughter but failed when he heads ginge and filly dying of laughter.

“Nah! I’ve found one you’ve gotta use!” Ginge said and repeated the pick up line to him to message.

And they all couldn’t help but nearly piss themselves laughing as he typed it to you,

“She’s going to be so confused and probably disgusted-“ filly laughed

“where is she? Usually she’s in the corner of your screen” filly asked and ginge piped up “yeah I’ve missed her today” ginge huffed making Lando chuckle

“She’s literally in our bedroom next to me, so I’m trying to make sure she can’t hear us” Lando laughed quietly.

“I don’t know how you got her mate- she’s literally the funniest girl I’ve ever met I’m not gonna lie not to mention the fact she races with you” ginge said and filly agreed “nah literally tho man- like when I first met her she was well quiet and shy but after like two weeks she became one of my best friends”

Lando smiled at their love for you, but jumped a little when his phone lit up,

-

You stared at your phone when you saw Lando texted you,

“Babe do you have a map?” You was so confused

Why does he want a map?

Why would you have a map?

“No why do you need a map?” You texted back waiting for his reply

“Because I keep getting lost in your eyes” Lando replied and you rolled your eyes at his cheesy pick up line.

-

Lando waited for your reply but it never came “she left me on read you guys” Lando shook his head laughing making ginge and filly scream and die of laughter

“She literally left me on read guys I can see the two ticks” lando said his eyes wrinkling from laughing

“That is literally perfect” filly cried through his mic.

A couple minutes later you poked your head through Lando’s door.

“Baby?” You said making him jump and take his headset off

“What was that about?” You said quietly since you didn’t want people to hear you, since you didn’t know if his cheesy pick up line was a prank or genuine.

“Babe- It was a prank” Lando laughed making you roll your eyes “it was all ginge and filly’s idea! I had nothing to do with that awful pick-up line” Lando chuckled as he put his hands up,

You stood next to him and looked at his camera and saw ginge and filly who were crying of laughter “you guys are dicks.” You said through landos microphone and they both pissed themselves even more

“Sorry! But it was too funny not to!” Ginge said and you rolled your eyes shaking your head with a smile.

You stood up and Lando rested his hand on your waist pulling you close to him only the armchair blocking you “you can stay if you want baby” he said softly “you sure?” You asked and he nodded “of course, they were talking about how much they miss you anyway and I don’t even want to mention the chat! They haven’t stopped talking about you” lando said as he showed you some of the comments.

UserA: Where’s y/nnnnn! We miss her and her jokes!

UserB: OMG- CAN WE TALK ABT THE HAND PLACEMENT?!

UserC: Omg- where did she get that matching pj set cause it’s SO CUTE

UserD: SHES BACK ONG MY FAV COUPLE EVER <3

You smiled at the comments and Lando tapped his thigh gesturing for you to sit on his lap which you did, you straddled him and nuzzled your face into his neck. This was 1000% your favourite place in the entire world.

In his arms, you could only smell him, feel him and your favourite thing was falling asleep to him talking and you giggled when you heard ginge taking the piss out of Lando or filly.

“You guys make me feel so single I’m not even gonna lie” filly joked as he looked at you two, you snuggled on lando’s lap, he arm wrapped around you making small circles on your back under your his hoodie.

“Oi! Y/n- can u hear me?” Ginge said loudly making Lando jump a bit from the noise going directly into his ear but for you it was perfect “yes I can” you laughed at lando holding his headphones away from his ear.

“If you’re ever bored or Lando is being annoying just know I’m free for you always. Always. Hit me up” ginge joked making you giggle and Lando rolled his eyes.

“I’ll keep that noted” you laughed when he winked at you through the screen making Lando shake his head laughing

“Oi! Get your own girlfriend!” Lando argued into his mic making ginge laugh loudly.

You couldn’t hide your grin at their stupidity,

You actually found his stupid,cheesy and cringe pick up line quite cute though…you’d never let him know that though or he wouldn’t stop sending them.

[headlinerkwan]

for us - c.sc

pairing - bestfriend!seungcheol x gn!reader

genre - nonidol!au, f2l, fluff, comfort, a bit of angst, knightinshiningarmour!seungcheol, reader and seungcheol are whipped for each other but too dumb to realise.

summary - waking up the next morning in your childhood home, unanswered questions and glances that last a little too long leave you questioning your feelings for your best friend.

warnings - profanity, discussions of mental health

wc: 2.2k

a/n - this is part two of my fic 'for now'. i recommend reading part one first!! lmk what you think about part 2 (ᵔ.ᵔ)

requests: open <33

taglist - open!! comment or send an ask to be added ✩

You wake up the next morning to the golden sunlight streaming through your window, kissing your skin warmly. Your childhood bedroom smells like a bittersweet blend of home and naive dreams, it is a place that you’ve both longed for and loathed since you became an adult- wait. Your childhood bedroom…the events of last night come flooding back to you… shit. 

Sitting up quickly you look around your empty room. 

Where the fuck is Seungcheol? 

Feeling disorientated at best, you decide that following the soft music playing in the kitchen would probably give you the best chance of finding him or, at least, gaining some sort of clarity. Your foggy morning brain leads you into your parents lounge, the soft glow of a lamp inviting you into the room.

That's where you find him, sitting comfortably on the couch, reading one of your father’s books like this is his home, like this is the most natural thing he’s ever done. His hair is a perfect mess, red undertones from past dye jobs revealing itself under the light, flowing perfectly as he runs his hand through his hair and his bare face glows under the morning sun. You think you could watch him all day if he’d let you. 

“Y/Nnie” he calls, leaping to his feet with the sweetest smile adorning his face. God, how can someone be so- 

“Are you okay? How do you feel?” He asks, interrupting your train of thought, you don’t even get the chance to answer him before his arms are wrapping around you, bringing you against his chest as his face finds solace in the crook of your neck. Whilst his sudden embrace takes you by surprise at first, your heart jumping, you can't help but melt into him, his warmth enveloping you and his cologne calming your nerves immediately. The way your bodies are intertwined it's difficult not to think that maybe…just maybe, you and Seungcheol are made for eachother - two halves making a whole. 

After a beat of comfortable silence, you gently lift your head away from him. “Cheol..” you whisper, he responds with a mumbled confirmation that he’s listening, “...I’m sorry”. 

He lifts his head rapidly then, concern painted across his face as his eyes meet yours. “Why? What do you have to be sorry about sweet?”. His arms are still wrapped around you, his thumb gently caressing your forearm as you stare up at him, tears welling quietly in your eyes. 

“That you’re here. That you drove here, through the night, just because I was-”

He cuts you off. 

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I promise. This is nothing, I’ll do this a thousand times, I’ll do anything for you. You know that right?” 

Despite your guilt, you can’t help but smile at him, his words so sincere, his eyes so full of love. You nod slowly, of course you know - you’d do the same for him, and he pulls you back into an embrace, holding you against his chest as he kisses your head softly before resting his head on top of yours. 

“Why?” you question after a while, your words muffled slightly against the fabric of his t-shirt. You feel him take a deep breath, preparing his response.

“Because…”

“Because what?” 

“I’ll tell you later sweet, can we just… stay like this for a while” he says quietly, holding you tighter in his warm embrace.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

Seungcheol's POV

He could stay like this forever. You in his arms, sweet and delicate, he can’t shake the feeling that this is where he’s meant to be - by your side. Of course he would drive through the night for you, he thinks, of course he would carry you to your bed, of course he would sleep on your bedroom floor in case you needed him because well… he loved you. 

He’d loved you for three years, he’d shown you in every way he could think of, except through words. He could never quite bring himself to tell you. He had tried, God had he tried, but the words were always caught in his throat, the fear of the unknown silencing him from telling you the truth. Everything in him wanted to tell you, wanted to shout from the rooftops that he loves you, that you’re beautiful.

That you’re everything to him.

To him, you are the sun, the rain, the clouds. To him, you are a gentle spring breeze, a late summer sunset, you are fresh coffee in the morning and a warm meal at dinner. To him, you are everything good in the world, big and small. You are his favourite song, his favourite place, his best memory, his future. 

But how could he tell you? How can he put into words everything that you are? And if he does? If he does and it ruins your friendship? If he does and he loses you? If he does and you love him too? What then? 

He takes a deep breath and decides to try and forget about it for now. His problems are not important right now - you are.

“So sweet, are you gonna give me the exclusive Y/N tour of your hometown or are you gonna leave me looking for breakfast like a lost puppy?”

His heart is happy as you chuckle lightly against his chest, looking at him with your doe eyes before grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the door. 

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

The day you spend together walking around your hometown can be described as nothing less than happy. You had mentioned before leaving about the small size of your sleepy town, that there wasn’t really much to do but it’s clear that doesn’t matter as you and Seungcheol fill the hours with conversation, laughs and smiles. It’s easy with him, comfortable, smooth, but still exciting. Maybe it’s too easy because, before you realise it, the sun is setting over the town square.

“Should we head back soon?” Seungcheol asks, his brown eyes are golden caramel in the sunlight, the breeze flowing gently through his hair. You reach up cautiously to move some of the hair out of his eyes, unsure of how he will react but, his eyes flutter shut as he smiles gently, an expression of gratitude. “Can we stay for a bit? Just until the sun goes down, it’s beautiful I promise” you plead. “Well if you say it’s beautiful then I guess I’ll have to check it out for myself” he replies cheekily, his mouth curling slightly.

Turning away from him to watch the sun, you freeze as he stands behind you, resting his head on your shoulder, and wrapping his arms around you. A million thoughts are running through your head, all of them about him, and your heart beats faster as he leans against you. But then, he takes your hand, interlocking your fingers with his, drawing patterns on your skin with his thumb and suddenly everything is quiet, peaceful. It’s just you and Seungcheol and everything is okay. 

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

The sun has almost disappeared behind the horizon by the time you find the courage to ask him if he’ll answer your question from this morning.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to” you reassure him, “It’s just that, I don’t know, sometimes I can’t help but wonder what goes on in your mind. I can see it in your face that look you get when you’re stressed or thinking too hard and… I just want to be there and help you with it but if I don’t know then I-”

“I love you” He replies nonchalantly. It takes you off guard but it’s nothing new, friends tell each other that they love each other everyday. 

You chuckle as you reply, still watching the sunset “I love you too but-”

“No Y/N, I love you. I’m in love with you.” He states, taking a deep breath.

You feel your stomach flip at your best friend’s words. What the fuck? Surely you didn’t hear that right. There’s no way Seungcheol loves you. Not in that way. Not in the way that you love him. Right?

You turn around to face him, his hands still sitting carefully on your waist. “Sorry, what?” you question, a nervous shake in your voice whilst you search his eyes for answers.

“I’m in love with you.” He says with soft eyes, biting his cherry lips as he attempts to read your body language, “I think I’ve loved you since that first week, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, I didn’t know then, I just knew I had to know you, I needed you in my life.” 

You can hardly believe the words leaving his mouth, you can hardly believe it’s him stood before you, you can hardly believe he loves you. 

“Seungcheol.” you mutter gently as he nervously rambles. He pauses, eyes scanning your face for anything that will tell him what you’re thinking, nothing. 

“Yes?”

“Stop talking.” 

You move closer to him, closing the gap between you, your faces millimetres apart. His features are illuminated by the glow of twilight as you meet his eyes. You inhale sharply as he hesitantly lifts his hand to gently caress your face. “Okay” he whispers, his breath tickling your lips gently. 

Your eyes flick between his gentle eyes and full lips one last time before your mouths crash into each other. It’s cautious at first, nervous, but you gradually find a gentle rhythm. His free hand finds your lower back, bringing you as close as possible to him as your arms rest on his shoulders. His soft lips kiss you back like you are the most delicate thing in the universe, he tastes sweet and warm. This is something you didn’t know you needed but now that you have it, you’re not sure if you’ll be able to live without it, without him. 

Soon gentle kisses become driven by passion, you are both hungry as you chase the other for more, for closeness, for love. As your fingers tangle slightly in his hair, he nips your bottom lip gently before kissing away the delicious pain and falling back into your new rhythm with roaming hands and heavy breath. 

It is only when a car alarm blares nearby that the two of you are thrown back into reality. Seungcheol leans his forehead against yours as you giggle. He takes your hands, not daring to take his eyes off of you and places a gentle peck on your cheek. So many emotions are exchanged in every movement made; relief, happiness, nerves, excitement, love.

“The sun’s gone” you point out after a moment. Seungcheol nods, he knows it’s time for both of you to go back to the city but he sure as hell is not going to be the one to take either of you out of this moment. 

A comfortable silence falls over you whilst you watch people mill around your town’s square, some you recognise as old acquaintances, teachers, coworkers. You think about potential inside jokes you may have had with them or any fun facts about them but to no avail, the people of your hometown have become ghosts, lost to the past. So you stand with Seungcheol and just watch, his hand finds yours and you lean your head against his shoulder. 

You stand watching your past, hand-in-hand with your future.  

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

You are stood next to Seungcheol’s car waiting for him to unlock it so you can load in a bag of food your mother had given to you. He appears from around the corner, car keys in hand, running towards you just like he had on the night of the carnival, with bright eyes and a wide grin. Except this time it was different. This time you knew what that look meant, he wasn’t just happy to see his friend, he was happy to see you - the person he loved. 

Placing the bags into the back of his car, you make an exaggerated show of strength, huffing and heaving as you lift the light bags onto the back seat before walking towards the passenger seat, flexing your biceps as you feign exhaustion. 

Opening the door for you, Seungcheol laughs at your dramatics, “You’re so weird”. 

As he climbs into the driver’s seat and closes the door, you pout at him, pretending to be upset at his comment. “Wowww, that’s so mean! Damn, and I thought you loved me.” you remark as you jokingly shake your head.

He giggles and takes your hand, turning to look at you. “Sooo dramatic! You’re the good kind of weird, don’t worry sweet." You chuckle quietly and squeeze his hand in response. 

After a beat, you speak up again.

“I might be the bad kind of weird too. Is that okay?”

There is a heaviness in your voice that makes him frown slightly and, when your eyes avoid his, he places his hand on your jaw, soft eyes finding yours.

“I love all your weird” He says gently “I’ll take as much of you as I can get, the good and the bad.” Scanning your face he adds “For you, anything, always.”

He places chaste kisses all over your face until you’re smiling again, pulling him to meet your lips this time, he smiles into you and, with his sweet lips against yours, you are at peace. 

For us, anything, always.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

taglist:@caaaptaaainamericaaa @gyuguys

[nightingale-fic-recs]

Some things can only be cultivated under pretenses [Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader]

Summary: You were eight years old again, hiding from Satoru's parents in his treehouse. "Then you can marry me, silly!" You sat bolt upright. "Marry me!"

Author's Notes: My first ever anime/manga fic, 17.1K words of fake dating/friends to lovers/idiots to lovers that no one asked for!! The fic practically wrote itself. If you’re reading, I hope you enjoy it! Being an American, my knowledge of Japanese language and culture is quite slim. The Japanese honorifics and nicknames I’ve used are meant to be affectionate, but I realize that the relationships themselves may have quite an American slant. I did my best, but if you notice anything off or out of line, please let me know so I can fix it!

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or events from Jujutsu Kaisen

Warnings/tags: non-cursed AU, best friend! Satoru Gojo, fake marriage, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, fluff, angst, VERY suggestive content, language, minor character death(s) (past, mentioned), mention of (medical) drug usage, spoilers for/references to episodes 25-29/chapters 65-79, not beta’d!

You’re half asleep in the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the window when you hear a key turn in the door. Groggily, you sit up and rub your eyes, picking up your phone. 

“Babe? You home?”

You’ve got a missed text from Satoru that probably explains his otherwise unannounced arrival at your apartment. 

“In here,” you call, yawning. His snowy head pokes through the doorway and, despite the wide grin plastered on his face, you can tell something is wrong. 

“Sorry to wake you. Are you hungry? I brought ramen.” He’s disappeared into your kitchen but, despite this fabulous announcement, he comes right back around the corner to throw himself dramatically onto the opposite corner of your couch. 

Something is definitely wrong.

“Satoru?” You lean forward to touch his elbow, but he throws the arm over his eyes. He mutters something you don’t quite catch. “Say again?”

“It’s finally happened!” he shouts, though the sound is muffled by the hands he’s moved to cover his face. The same hands fly up as his head flies back, long legs kicking up to land on your coffee table with a loud bang. He turns to you with a wild, sarcastic smile. “My parents want me married, and by the end of the year. Or else I forfeit any rights to the family business, the house, my apartment, everything else.”

“Oh, Toru,” you breathe. You feel your heart lodge in the back of your throat before dropping to the ground with a dull thump. He shrugs, not meeting your gaze. 

“It doesn’t matter. I can sign over The Amanai Project to Nanami, go back to the Jujutsu Corporation…” But his voice trails off against his will and you’re already shaking your head. 

He’d started at the Jujutsu Corporation, a private security company, straight out of university. It’d been good for him- structure and discipline, and a new best friend you’d spent years convincing yourself you weren’t jealous of. You and Satoru hadn’t lost touch, but there were huge gaps in your days where he should have been. Until that new best friend called you from the hospital after a job gone wrong. 

Satoru had been hurt, badly. Multiple stab wounds, vicious and tearing. He still had scars from shoulder to hip, and a small one on his forehead from the butt of a gun.

Suguru hadn’t seen it happen; he’d watched their charge die. A bullet to the brain. Quick and clean, unlike the shooter. Satoru had sliced him up before collapsing in a pool of his own blood. 

When he woke up, he was different. 

You’d worried you’d lost him for good, for different reasons than the wounds, for months. Barely eating, hardly sleeping, withdrawn and absent. Suguru told you that at the girl’s funeral, carrying Riko Amanai’s corpse, Satoru had asked why they didn’t kill the whole family who’d ordered the execution. 

Suguru had disappeared not long after, and despite getting your best friend back, you still didn’t quite know why. You didn’t want to bring it up. 

You shuddered, remembering how… hollow Satoru had been after the entire incident. Your other friends had wanted you to drop him, offended for your sake that he’d let your friendship slide in the first place, but you’d remained steadfast. Long nights spent holding him, stroking his hair; long days of pulling him gently up to walk, of coaxing him to eat when he had no interest in it; even stripping him down to his boxers to shoulder him into his ridiculously fancy shower, washing his hair in your bathing suit until he halfheartedly pushed you out to wash himself. 

He’d been a shell, until he hadn’t. You’d shown up after work, armed with takeout and romcoms, and he’d been gone. You’d panicked, calling Suguru, who didn’t pick up, calling the housekeeper his mother had hired in an effort to keep you away, nearly breaking down and calling his mother. Then he’d barrelled through the door, smiling wide enough to showcase those tiny dimples, gushing about the non-profit he was going to start and the teenagers who’d inspired it. 

You sucked in a sharp breath. 

“You could lose The Amanai Project.”

He nodded slowly, not meeting your horrified stare. 

“That’s why I’d go back to Juju-”

“No,” you hissed. You weren’t prepared for the hopeless look he turned on you. He loved The Amanai Project, he loved the teenagers he worked with. He reached forward, clutching both of your hands in his tightly.

“Then what am I supposed to do?” he pleaded. And then you were eight years old again, hiding from Satoru’s parents in his treehouse. 

“They said.”

“Grown-ups always say.”

“What if they make me?”

“They can’t make you!”

He looked at you, much too seriously for an eight year old.

“They made my dad marry my mom. They’ll make me marry someone, too. And then what am I supposed to do?” He crossed his arms, pouting, and grumbled “Don’t wanna get married.”

You grabbed his little hand with your own, beaming with all of the sincerity and cleverness of a child.

“Then you can marry me, silly.”

You sat bolt upright. 

“Marry me!” you half-shouted. At Satoru’s flinch back, you apologized softly and lowered your voice. “Marry me,” you repeated. You leaned forward, excitement brewing at the ingenuity of such a simple plan. “We can get married for however long it takes to cement your place in the family business and then get a divorce.” You squeezed his hands. “Whaddya say?”

Satoru spluttered a bit, pulling his hands back to run them through his hair- a nervous habit you hadn’t seen him make since childhood. “Babe, you shouldn’t- we can’t just- I can’t ask you to-”

“You’re not asking me for anything, I offered! Besides, think of all the fun we could have. It’d be just like our sleepovers from when we were kids.” A strange look had crossed Satoru’s face, hesitation and something like pain. You sat a little straighter, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “U-unless you don’t want to, of course. I just, I thought-”

“It’s a good idea,” he interrupted. He was focused on your hands, intertwined now in your lap. He spoke slowly, measured and thoughtful. “I just don’t want… you know how my parents can be. And what if…” He grimaced. “What if you find someone you want to be with? I don’t want to stand in your way.”

You waved this off airily. “Oh, Toru, you’ll always be part of my life. If I find someone, they’ll just have to accept the situation. Besides, there’s no reason I can’t see someone else, so long as I’m careful. It’s not like we’ll really be married.”

Satoru stood abruptly, pacing to the other side of the room, one hand raised to his chin. He stood, silent, for a long moment. You opened your mouth to say something to fill the suddenly charged space between you, but then he spoke. 

“Let me think about it.” And then in a blink, he was gone, takeout forgotten on your countertop, leaving you to blink in the void created by his absence. 

——————————————————————

The silence lasted about as long as you’d expected it would. Satoru came crashing into your apartment bright and early the next morning, singing your name. You groaned, rolling over to pick up your phone. 6:48. 

You were going to kill him. 

“Satoru Gojo!” you yelled, pulling the covers over your head. You heard him skip down the hallway and into your room. If he noticed that you’d used his full name, it didn’t deter him a bit. He flung himself down beside you, dragging you onto his chest, blankets and all. 

“My future wife!” he crooned, kissing your covered cheek. “How did you sleep?”

“It’s not even seven.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

You fumbled the blankets off your head, baring your face to the weak sunlight coming in through the open window. “How am I supposed to know how I slept when it’s so early?” You rubbed at your eyes while Satoru laughed heartily, making himself comfortable on your mountain of pillows. You paused. “Did you say future wife?”

His smile widened as he sat up, shifting you from your live body pillow. “Well, yeah. That is if the offer still stands.” He twisted himself off the bed to kneel on the floor, turning you to face him all in one smooth motion. Now he held up a small, black velvet box, which he opened the moment he had your full attention. 

A stunning engagement ring glittered up at you, catching all of the light in the room and beaming it upward through the diamond in the center. 

You blanched. 

“Satoru, what is this? This must have cost a fortune-”

“Easy,” he chuckled, setting the box aside to slide the ring onto your left hand. A perfect fit. “If we’re gonna be married, we’re gonna have to put on a good show. Starting with a beautiful ring worthy of the most beautiful woman in the world.” You hadn’t said a word, dumbstruck as you gazed down at your hand. Satoru spoke more softly now. “What do you think?”

“I think you picked my dream ring,” you breathed. He beamed up at you. 

“So does that mean yes?”

“What?” You looked at him sharply, at the hopeful expression he’d turned up to you. “Of course yes, you dork. Remember that this was my idea?”

Satoru launched himself up, bearing you backward onto the bed with his arms around you. “Yay!” he squealed, and then he was kissing your cheek and nuzzling the side of your neck. “I promise to be a good husband,” he mumbled. 

You laughed, somewhat breathless. “I wasn’t worried about it.”

You felt his smile curl up against your neck while he squeezed you impossibly tighter. “You were right, we’re gonna have so much fun.”

You were gasping now, struggling to breathe beneath his weight and in his tight grip. “Toru, can’t breathe.”

He let you go with a soft “oops”, shimmying over to lay beside you with his head propped up on one hand. His eyes shone with something you couldn’t quite place, lips curled in a gentle smile as his cerulean gaze trailed lazily over your face. He finally settled on your eyes, sharing the tranquil moment with you before leaping up. 

“Oh! I almost forgot!” He careened out of your room and down the hall into your kitchen, returning a moment later with a sly grin. “Close your eyes,” he sing-songed. 

“Close m-?”

“Close ‘em, woman!”

With a dramatic sigh, you did. If you hadn’t felt the slight dip in your mattress, you might not have known he’d come back until you felt his hand trace your knee lightly. “Open,” he whispered. 

Your vision was flooded with white and green; Satoru held out a colossal bouquet of white roses and eucalyptus, tied with a fat black ribbon. 

Your jaw dropped. 

Satoru straightened in pleasure. “See, I told you I’d be a good husband!” he crowed. 

You swatted at him playfully before taking the roses out of his hands. “Satoru, you know I don’t need all this.”

He gave you a deadpan look. “I have never, never seen any boyfriend spoil you before. I think it’s time someone did.”

You snorted. “You’re gonna ruin me for all other men if you keep it up.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he looked pleased by that. But before you could analyze the thought, he reached a hand out to you. 

“My lady.”

You laughed out loud, but took the proffered hand and slid out of bed, letting him lead you down the hall. You felt your jaw drop again when you stepped into the kitchen to see a silver tray laid out on your tiny dining table, laden with pastries and fresh fruit and a steaming pot of coffee. 

“Consider me ruined,” you mumbled, beelining for the coffee to the sound of Satoru’s raucous laughter. You smiled to yourself, and over your shoulder at him. 

This would be fun. 

——————————————————————

Reality set in slowly over the course of the next few days, for both of you.

Satoru’s parents were furious, as expected, but enough to call you directly, which was not. After all, they had always refused to acknowledge your existence, as though hoping you might disappear entirely if they ignored you for long enough.

“We know that you’ve always had a bit of trouble staying away, dear, but we had never quite expected this, this…”

“Devotion, ma’am?”

“Parasitic behavior from you!”

Ouch. 

“I assure you, Gojo-sama, I’m not marrying your son for money. As you know, we’ve always been close. I’ve always loved him.” All true, as you’d agreed the story should be. The only lie in it lay in the implication of one, tiny word. 

If anyone was close enough to spot it, it certainly wouldn’t be his parents. 

All the same, his mother groaned and his father scoffed in the background. The elder Gojo’s voice was muffled by distance when he said “Of course she has, but I’d expected Satoru, at least, to outgrow it by now.”

What?

You weren’t given an opportunity to question it, though. Satoru’s mother dismissed you, something about “being in touch” soon. Whatever that meant. 

You sat for several long moments, puzzling over that last comment. Outgrow what? His parents couldn’t possibly mean that he’d been in love with you, you would have known. Certainly, you’d had a crush on Satoru for years- your first and most long-standing crush, at that. That must be what they meant. He must’ve had a childhood infatuation, as well. Nothing more. 

You shook yourself, content to be back on solid footing, and dialed Satoru’s number by heart. He picked up on the third ring, yelling to one of the teenagers he was training, before greeting you warmly. When you relayed the conversation with his parents, minus that strange comment from his father, you could feel the waves of rage rolling off him through the phone. 

“They called you a parasite!?” he shouted, and you heard his students drop their voices to whispers. 

“Parasitic, not a parasite.”

“Oh, don’t you bullshit semantics with me,” he seethed. “How dare they, who do they think they are to talk to you that way? I won’t stand for this. They owe you an apology.” You tried to cut in, to reassure him that you were less bothered than you were, in truth, but his tirade went on without any sign of stopping. You could hear him put his phone down, still swearing and half-shouting to himself. You heard something that sounded suspiciously like wood cracking, heard him pick up his phone again, heard the bell on the gym door opening. 

“Satoru!” you shouted. 

“What!?” he shouted back. You waited patiently as he drew in a deep breath. More calmly, he repeated himself. “What?”

“Don’t give them the satisfaction.”

He was angry enough to sputter, his usual cool, smooth speech long-gone. “They can’t talk to you that way! You’re going to be my wife!”

“Fake wife,” you muttered, half amused and half touched by the vehemence of his outburst. 

“That doesn’t matter. You’ve been my best friend forever. It has to stop!”

You sighed. “You know that they’ll only think I’m a whiny, sniveling leech if you say anything.” He was silent, and you could tell from the steady hum of traffic that he’d finally stopped walking. “Go back to your kids.”

“They’re not my kids.” The reply was automatic, an old joke between the two of you about his students. You heard him start walking again, and a moment later, the bell on the door jingled again. 

You heard the students perk up, clamoring and calling to him. 

“Gojo! Is everything okay?” Yuji Itadori, a selfless orphan with reflexes almost as sharp as Satoru’s. Quick to protect anyone and everyone around him. Heart of gold, worn proudly on his sleeve for all to see. 

“Where do you think you’re going? Were you just going to leave us here?” Nobara Kugisaki, a spitfire girl who masked every insecurity with arrogance to rival Satoru’s, though she hadn’t mastered his admirable level of control. 

“What crawled up your ass?” Megumi Fushiguro. You didn’t like to pick favorites, but you couldn’t pretend you didn’t hold a special fondness for him. Unflappable, unshakable. Level-headed and calculating. He reminded you of Satoru the most. Maybe that’s why you liked him best. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know, the gym would collapse without me in it. Get back to work.” There he was, all smooth edges and silken confidence. Like nothing ever happened. To you, he grumbled, “This isn’t over.”

Once upon a time, you’d believed that nothing could get under his skin. In all your years of friendship, you’d never seen him lose his temper until after the incident. Even since, it was a rare occurrence, but you’d quickly learned how to reel him back. You breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Not over, but over for now. 

——————————————————————

One thing you hadn’t put much thought into was telling your parents. They reacted about as you’d expected, though- thrilled to be welcoming their bonus child to the family in an official capacity, “after all these years”. 

“Oh, hime, how wonderful! He’s such a sweet boy. I’ll come dress shopping with you!”

Your heart twinged with guilt. Your mother would be heartbroken when you inevitably divorced a year or two down the road. 

“Maybe we should tell them,” mused Satoru. He tilted his head back to look up from your lap. “What are the chances that they’ll ever talk to my parents? Or tell anyone else? They can keep a secret.”

You shook your head slowly, focused on a point somewhere past where your fingers threaded through his soft hair. “I think they’d be more heartbroken to hear that we aren’t really in love.”

When Satoru didn’t say anything, you looked down at him. He was staring at you with an expression you couldn’t read, eyes darkening to a rich turquoise. He’d reached up to loop his hand loosely around your wrist without you noticing, stroking the sensitive skin over your pulse. Something about the look in his eyes had you suddenly incapable of thinking of anything but his father’s strange statement. 

“I’d expected Satoru, at least, to outgrow it by now.”

You swallowed, hard, scrambling for some way to ask without making everything incredibly awkward. You knew you were just friends. Hearing him say it would settle it once and for all. 

“Right,” Satoru drawled. He sat up, rising from the couch. “Better to tell them marriage just wasn’t what we thought.”

Somehow, somewhere, you’d made a wrong turn in this conversation. You weren’t sure what had happened, but something wasn’t right. You were getting to your feet when Satoru turned in the doorway, smirking with that wild spark in his ridiculously blue eyes. 

“You probably shouldn’t say it to your parents, but you can tell anyone else who asks that I couldn’t keep up with your appetite.” His smile only widened when you tilted your head in confusion. “Sexually.”

Your mouth dropped open on a gasp of his name, blood flooding your cheeks. His laughter was pealing off your hallway walls by the time you thought to throw the cushion in your hands. It bounced harmlessly off the wall, falling lightly to the floor. 

You sprinted down the hallway, raining your fists down on Satoru’s turned back as he laughed, before jumping up and locking one arm around his neck. You used the other to ruffle his hair as he instinctively took hold of your thighs, giving you just enough height to lean over his shoulder and bite the lobe of his ear gently. 

You were the one laughing uncontrollably, now, but you didn’t miss his sharp intake of breath or the way he tensed within your hold. Interesting. You tucked that away with every intention of examining it later. 

“That’s it!” His voice was slightly hoarse as he spun, racing across the hall to your living room. You shrieked as he wheeled this way and that, his strong grip the only thing keeping you secured to his back. He turned and abruptly released his hold on you, sending you tumbling back onto your couch in a cacophony of giggles. 

He turned a smug smile on you. “And with that, no dinner for wifey.”

You let out an indignant squawk, scrambling down the hall after him. Despite his threats, he was spoon-feeding you miso soup within minutes, smiling wide as you stuck out your tongue. 

“I’m not telling anyone that,” you muttered. 

Satoru nodded sagely. “You’re right, can’t go tarnishing my reputation.”

You let out a loud, undignified guffaw of laughter. “Reputation? You?”

Satoru pulled back indignantly. “You think I don’t have a reputation?” You leveled him with your blankest stare, but he stared right back, one eyebrow quirked up. You found yourself crumbling first, suddenly unsure of yourself. “You have a reputation?”

That broke his stoicism. He cracked a wide grin, looking down to stir his dinner. “Nah, just wanted to watch you squirm.” You both smiled, shoving each other playfully from across the table. 

“I’m sure there have been… people though, right?”

Satoru’s head snapped up, eyes almost comically wide in some combination of shock and… nerves?

“What?” he rasped. You caught him with a mouthful of miso – he was probably trying not to choke.

“I mean I’m sure there have been girls, or boys…” you trailed off at the puzzled expression he wore. But now that you’d thought about it, you’d never seen him with anyone, not since high school.

“How did you know I’m bi?”

Not the question you’d been expecting.

“Satoru,” you deadpanned. “Do you remember when you got caught kissing Yoshio Kiyama under the bleachers in sixth grade?”

A faint blush rose in his pale cheeks. “Oh, right.”

“Yeah, genius, I’m the one who found you?” You started laughing, memories of your eleven year-old self bubbling to the surface. “I remember I was so disappointed, but then you asked out Akiko Hoshino for the school dance and I-” You stopped speaking abruptly, horrified at your partial admission, and prayed to the gods that Satoru wouldn’t notice. 

Of course where the gods were concerned, Satoru would always find favor. 

You swore you could see his ears perk up. “Disappointed, huh?”

“I didn’t mean to say that,” you mumbled. 

“Oh no no, you’re not getting out of this one.” He stood, coming around to your side of the table and pulling you up. Then he sat in your chair, dragging you unceremoniously down onto his lap. “Disappointed why?”

You threw your hands up in exasperation, turning your face away. “Because I had a crush on you, Satoru! We were eleven years old and I had a crush and I thought you only liked boys and so I was disappointed that I wouldn’t have a chance with you. But then you asked out Akiko Hoshino, so then I knew that you liked boys and girls.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“And then you pined away for me for the month that I dated Akiko, right?” he crooned, obviously delighted. 

You scoffed, but felt your throat closing slightly. “No, then I got over you.”

Satoru’s jaw dropped. “That fast, huh?”

“Yeah, it was pretty quick.”

He released you in favor of clapping his hands to his heart, head thrown back.

“My darling wife, you wound me so!” he cried. You laughed, tapping your ring finger.

“That’s fiancé to you, I’m not your wife yet.”

He sat back up, grinning. “Soon enough.” His cerulean eyes glittered in a way that sparked something deep inside you, excitement and anticipation lighting in your veins. 

“Two,” he murmured. 

You blinked. “Two what?”

“Two people.” He reached up to smooth a stray hair from your face, a gesture so tender that your breath caught. “One boy, one girl. And now, you.”

“Well, sort of.” You meant to be teasing, but it came out shakier than you meant. What was happening to you?

And there was that unreadable expression, paired with the slightest of smiles. “Yeah, sort of.”

——————————————————————

“I don’t think you’re supposed to get to see the dress.”

Satoru whines from the other end of the phone. “Why nooot? I’m paying for it, aren’t I?”

Despite your mother’s wish to come dress shopping with you, she’d been unable to make the journey. Despite his protests, she couldn’t bear to leave your father alone. He needed her too much after his accident; slow and unsteady on his best days, bedridden on his worst. So you’d settled on FaceTime instead. Now the four of you were on a call together- you, your parents, and Satoru- as you made your way down the busy Tokyo street to your car.

“You know I don’t actually have the dress with me, right?” you said wryly. Satoru’s confused outburst blended with your mother‘s tinkling laughter, tugging at the little girl deep under your skin. You felt your lips curve up in an involuntary smile.

“Patience, bocchan. You’ll see her on your wedding day.”

“That’s so far, though!” whined Satoru.

“It’s only another month, my dear! So eager.” You heard your father chuckling in the background, making some muffled statement about your parents’ traditional, long engagement. Your mother murmured something sweet back to him, but when she spoke into the phone again, her voice was filled with mischief. “Are you sure you’re not pregnant, hime?”

“M-mother!” you sputtered. On the other end, Satoru howled with laughter. All the same, he composed himself much more quickly than you. 

“Okan, no. That would be impossible. I’ve been a perfect gentleman! Besides, we’re not even living together. 

“Oh!” Your mother seemed genuinely surprised. “Well no, I suppose neither of you have said that you are. I see that I simply assumed…”

���Actually, we haven’t discussed the living situation yet.” You leapt on the opportunity to change the subject, still trying to get your breathing under control. For some reason you couldn’t quite pin down, your mother‘s joke had left your heart racing long after the shock should’ve worn off.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make either of you uncomfortable, we’re just so exc-”

You and Satoru cut her off simultaneously, talking over each other to assure her that she hadn’t.

“We’ll just move into your place, right babe?”

You stopped walking. “Satoru, why would we move into my shitty apartment when yours is twice the size?”

“Because your place is so much cozier!” 

Then there was an almighty crash and Satoru began swearing. A moment later, after making his apologies to your mother, he was saying he loved you and hanging up. Your heart raced a bit, even as you giggled with your mother over “his kids”.

As you walked up to your car, you heard your father ask for a glass of water. “Oh, dear, look at the time. I’m sorry my darling, but I need to go. I have to leave now if I want to get to the bank before it closes, and then I have to go to the shops, and then I have to make dinner…”

You smiled to yourself, sliding behind the wheel of your beaten old sedan. “Have a good night, mama. I’ll talk to you soon.”

You turned the key in the ignition and looked at your watch. Satoru’s class would be ending soon. You could spend that time doing errands, washing your car, or even tidying up your apartment. But you felt lazy and lightweight and you hadn’t seen the kids in some time. 

With a smile, you drove to the juice shop you and Satoru liked, ordering the too-sweet strawberry smoothie he loved and something new for yourself to try. After only a second’s hesitation, you picked out an assortment of treats, putting everything on Satoru’s card. Today, for the kids, you’d let him spoil you. 

Arms filled with sweets and smoothies, you managed to get from the shop to your car and your car to The Amanai Project. The gym was housed in a metal and concrete building on the border of one of the poorer neighborhoods in the city. Posters advertising free self-defense classes, public safety seminars, and charity races papered the windows beside a much more understated plaque offering pro bono legal counsel for kids victimized by violent crime.

Every time you came here, you couldn’t squelch the feeling of your heart growing several sizes. You were just trying to decide how best to manage the door when it swung open. Kento Nanami, Satoru’s somewhat business partner and the lawyer offering his services, held it wide and nodded a greeting as you shimmied through. 

“Thanks, Nanami. How are you?”

“I’d be better if I didn’t have to deal with that crazy man,” he grumbled, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “I hear congratulations are in order, though.”

Startled, you felt heat rise to your cheeks. “O-oh, yes, thank you so much!”

He nodded again, turning to step through the doorway, but paused. “You’re good for him, and you’ll be good for each other.” With that, he turned again and left you staring at the swinging door. That was as much a speech as you’d ever heard out of Nanami, but you didn’t have time to digest it. 

Kugisaki shrieked your name, abandoning her training to race across the room to you. Her squeals drew the attention of everyone else in the room, too. Itadori looked up from where he stood patching a hole in the wall, dropping the putty knife he was wielding into a can of spackle, and made to run toward you before Satoru’s sharp voice cut him off. 

“Itadori!”

“Aww, Gojo, I’ll fix it in a second!”

You giggled at the interaction. Clearly, the source of the sound Satoru had hung up for. 

Fushiguro nodded politely at you from his place in the ring, taking advantage of your arrival to gulp down a bottle of water. 

And then there was the man himself, lifting the blindfold he used when he sparred- “to help him hone his senses”. His eyes looked bluer than ever against the black and white contrast of material and hair. He smiled when he saw you, looking surprised but immeasurably pleased. 

Then Kugisaki was shoveling everything out of your arms, extending her hands to grasp yours. “Let’s see this ring!”

At that, Itadori did drop the putty knife, tuning Satoru’s warnings out with admirable success. Even Fushiguro sauntered over, hands tucked into his pockets, to lean down. You locked eyes with Satoru, cheeks warming under the kids’ attention.

Kugisaki and Itadori took turns bouncing on the balls of their feet, shrieking, alternating between hugging you and each other. Fushiguro studied the ring and then turned back to the ring, tossing a genuinely impressed “Nice job, Gojo” over his shoulder. Satoru sidled up to you, snaking an arm around your waist to draw you close enough that he could kiss your cheek. 

He was still smiling at you when Itadori shouted. “Hey Gojo, what was that? You gotta kiss her for real!”

Satoru whirled. “What!?”

“Yeah, kiss her for real!” squealed Kugisaki. She and Itadori swatted at each other in excitement, eyes glued to you and Satoru.

He pointed menacingly at them both. “You little pervs-”

“You can’t shut up about her all day, and now that she’s here you won’t even kiss her?” You laughed at the deadpan stare Fushiguro gave his teacher, highly amused by the entire ordeal.

With a rush of boldness, you grasped Satoru’s collar, turning him to face you, and pulled him down to your mouth. A bolt of electricity shot through you when your lips touched, and if Satoru’s muffled gasp was any indication, he wasn’t unaffected either. The kiss was brief, a slide of lips that was over much too soon, and then you were releasing him. You heard Kugisaki squealing, a loud clap as Itadori and Fushiguro high-fived each other, their thrilled chatter; it all faded to the background as you looked at Satoru.

Eyes half-lidded, color high in his cheeks, he seemed unable to catch his breath. He stood, still bent to your height, staring at your lips. You felt heat rising in your own cheeks, boldness entirely dissipated as you wondered whether you’d crossed some line or other. His tongue darted out to swipe his lips. The tittering in the background was quickly dying. You’d expected Satoru to have some ready quip, to turn and showboat for his students. It was becoming increasingly obvious that you’d have to be the one to act.

Thinking fast, you reached over to the counter where Kugisaki had dumped the haul you’d brought, fumbling a smoothie into Satoru’s frozen hands. You pasted a smile on and patted his cheek, turning to the collection of treats.

“Alright, you hooligans, I brought something for you. Courtesy of Gojo Sensei.” 

The boisterous sounds of teenagers started up just as quickly as they’d stopped, with Itadori and Kugisaki fighting over who got first pick of the sweets. Fushiguro waited patiently for the other two to dispense with their theatrics, picking up a sweet roll with a quiet word of thanks. You waved it off as you raised your smoothie to your lips, flinching when you tasted how overwhelmingly sweet it was. You turned to find Satoru standing behind you, holding out your smoothie. Besides a slight dusting of pink across the tops of his cheeks, he seemed entirely composed again. 

“Sorry,” you murmured, trading cups with him.

He quirked an eyebrow at you as he raised his smoothie to his mouth. Slowly, deliberately, he licked the side of his straw, finally drawing it into his mouth. He took several long swallows, holding your gaze unwaveringly as he did. Something about the action seemed intimate, provocative, and it was heating your insides. What on earth was happening to you?

“Oh, please.” His voice was lower than usual, husky. “Don’t be.”

——————————————————————

For once, you wound up at Satoru’s apartment. He’d walked you to your car, only half a lot away from his, only to find that it wouldn’t start. Why drive across town to your place, only to need a ride back in the morning to meet the tow truck, when you could simply stay the night with him? You had your laptop, there was no reason you couldn’t work from his home office the next day while he was away at family business meetings.

As he unlocked the front door, you tried to remember the last time you’d been here, rather than having him over to your shabby, cramped shoebox. You never could quite put your finger on why, but he loved your place. Cozy, he’d called it. And you guessed it was, in comparison.

He flipped on the light, the sound echoing down the hall, and stepped over the threshold, gesturing for you to step inside. You toed off your shoes, padding through the house to the kitchen. Satoru followed, stripping off his jacket and the blindfold he’d been wearing like a headband.

“I don’t think there’s much in the fridge, but we can order takeout. You remember where the menus are?”

“Of course.” You opened the right-most drawer in the island, withdrawing a stack of takeout menus with a grin.

Satoru grinned right back. “Order whatever you want, pick something good for me. I’m going to take a shower real quick.” You hummed as he dropped his wallet on the counter, thumbing through the worn pages before you.

When Satoru had first moved into this apartment, his mother had hired a maid and a chef. Only the best for her precious son, you thought wryly. Satoru hadn’t been having it. He’d been polite to them, of course, but kept an impeccable house with nothing for the maid to clean, and ordered takeout every night, leaving the chef’s meals untouched in the refrigerator before insisting she take them home herself. When his mother had shown up to scold him, he’d listened patiently to her lecture and then promptly changed the locks. 

You grinned at the memory, but it was short-lived. Your thoughts drifted to the time after he’d come home from the hospital, silent and uninterested in food, keeping a clean house, or anything else. His mother had hired a housekeeper again, insisting that your presence was unnecessary. In spite of her cold words and colder attitude, you’d stuck around, trying to get Satoru to take an interest in… anything.

He’d lost so much weight in those months.

You shook yourself out of your spiraling thoughts. Whatever had prompted him, he’d bought the gym for The Amanai Project, sent the housekeeper home with her next month’s pay, a bouquet of flowers, and his thanks, and changed the locks all in one day.

His mother had been furious.

That thought made you smile, despite yourself.

You heard the shower start, picked a menu at random, and called the number. You ordered enough sushi to feed a small army- an assortment of maki and uramaki rolls, nigiri, sashimi, miso soup, and two servings of deep-fried bananas- and smiled when you opened Satoru’s wallet to a picture of the two of you.

You made a circuit of the apartment while you waited. It looked just like it had the last time you’d been here, neat and bare. You walked into the home office, the only room with any personality, and smied at the photos scattered over the walls and shelves. You and Satoru as children, as teenagers at prom together, beaming together on the day you’d both graduated university; photos of him standing with his parents and grandparents, more serious than you were used to seeing him; and then, another photo, tucked behind several others. You stopped to pick it up.

Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru sat in a line, all beaming at the camera. Satoru’s arm reached around Shoko’s back, hand resting on Suguru’s shoulder. You could hardly see his eyes behind the dark glasses he wore, but you thought his eyes might’ve been on Suguru.

You swallowed back a painful lump in your throat. You’d lied when you said your crush on Satoru had been over quickly. It had lasted well into your teenage years, only abating when you assumed Suguru had taken your place as his best friend. Tall, handsome, charming Suguru with his smooth voice, soft smile, and never putting up with Satoru’s shit. That was until he disappeared, right when Satoru became a shell.

You knew the events were related, but you’d never found the courage to ask. Now, looking at this photo, you wondered what had happened to him. You wondered what had happened to Shoko, too. You knew she and Satoru still spoke from time to time, but they’d been closer before. Jealousy pricked at your heart before you stomped it ruthlessly out.

It had been a silly crush, nothing more. You were best friends. That was everything you wanted, everything you needed, and more than you could say for the other two.

You scolded yourself for being uncharitable, returning the picture frame to its place on the shelf before stalking from the office to Satoru’s bedroom.

The bed was perfectly made, unrumpled and unslept in. You realized with a jolt that the last time you’d been in his bedroom had been during those awful months, two years ago. You scowled lightly, turning back to the living room, and noticed for the first time that the larger couch looked slightly rumpled, with a throw blanket haphazardly hanging from the back- the only item out of place in the whole apartment.

In the bathroom, the tap turned off. You darted out of the bedroom, opting to sit at the kitchen island, watching the city lights from the picture window. It couldn’t have been more than two minutes before you could feel Satoru behind you, even though you hadn’t heard him approach. 

When you turned, he was smiling softly at you. 

“Have you been sleeping on the couch?”

You knew you’d shocked him by the smile he flipped up. “Whaaat? No, of course no-”

“Toru.”

He glares at you, but doesn’t answer. He’s saved by the doorbell, which he bolts to answer. 

You let out a breath, turning to the fridge to get drinks. You pull out two bottles of tea, along with a glass and a container of honey for Satoru. He’s laying out your feast, eyes pointedly on the food. 

You decide not to push the issue. For now. 

“I left some clothes for you in the bathroom,” he says. 

“Thank you,” you hum. “I’ll shower as soon as we’re done here.”

He hums in return, mouth already filled with food, then swallows. “Sorry about the kids,” he says. 

You grin. “Sorry for rocking your world.”

A strange look passes over his features, and when he speaks, you get the feeling that he’s not saying what he had intended to. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re not that good.” The words drip with his customary, good-natured arrogance, complete with the full-blown smirk you’ve only ever seen on him. He winks, making you laugh, but there’s some tiny part of you that’s oddly wounded by this. 

He’s returned his focus to his meal, but then he looks up at you from under his stark, white lashes. His voice is softer, more sincere when he speaks again. 

“We should practice.”

And for a moment, the absurdity of the statement is so intense that you can’t, won’t understand him. 

“Practice what?”

“Kissing.” He says it so calmly, so matter-of-fact, like it’s the most normal thing in the world to say. 

You choke on your tea. 

“We should practice kissing,” you drone back. 

Satoru throws his hands in the air. “Exactly! I’m glad you agree.” When you continue to stare, he chuckles, going back to his food. “I think the gig would be up if something like that happened in front of our wedding guests.” 

And after a moment’s contemplation, you have to admit that he’s right. You hadn’t considered the way you’d appear to onlookers. Years and years of close friendship had you comfortable with each other, in each others’ space, and you knew you’d look genuine to anyone close enough to see you, because your affection for each other was genuine. You and Satoru had always been touchy- leaning on each other or holding hands, arms around each other or brushing when you walked or talked. Physical closeness was natural to you both. 

But kissing each other was not natural, you told yourself. Even as your mind unhelpfully reminded you that it had felt quite natural to lean up and press your lips to his. You blinked away the memory, pasting on a smile to hide your unease at the way your heartbeat sped. 

“Oh yeah, I’d expected a smoother recovery from you,” you teased. “What did the kids have to say about that?”

He grumbled something that sounded distinctly like “lovesick fool”, but when you asked for Satoru to repeat himself, he said “They said it was so cool.”

You giggled. “It’s ‘cause they’ve never seen anyone shut you up.”

He lay a hand against his heart. “It’s because they never believe me when I say the ladies love me. Victory has never tasted so sweet.” You laughed, Satoru smiled, and what little tension had managed to build dissipated. 

You stood to stretch. “I’ll make us breakfast tomorrow if you do the dishes.”

Satoru scoffed. “I have a perfectly good dishwasher, and we both know I’ll be up way before you.”

You stuck your tongue out, earning you a snicker. “I’m going to shower.” Satoru waved you off, stuffing the last of his deep-fried bananas into his mouth as he brushed off his hands. You padded into the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and stripped off your clothes once the door shut behind you. Stepping into the shower, you let the scalding water soothe your muscles as your mind kicked into overdrive. 

Practice kissing Satoru Gojo. Something pooled low in your belly, something hungry and molten.

You knew, logically, that having the friendship with him that you do put you in a position most girls would be wildly envious of. You’d always known that, even if it hadn’t affected you. So why is it affecting you now? 

You knew, logically, that Satoru is insanely attractive. You’d seen it firsthand countless times over the years. Any time you’d go out together, you could feel jealous stares on you, even if Satoru never noticed. It used to make you feel somewhat smug, and somewhat guilty, as though your presence could keep away the girl he was meant to have. You would tease him, shamelessly mocking the fluttering lashes and starry eyes turned his way. So why did you feel so starry-eyed yourself?

You knew, logically, that this was a good and smart plan. His parents would be looking for any sign that this marriage was less than what it seemed, and it was wise to cover your bases. You just had to think about it intellectually. Just had to remember that it was all part of the trick.

Dressing in his boxers and sweats and a shirt two sizes too big, you step into his bedroom to see him reclining on the bed, face flushed and chest heaving, and all wisdom deserts you. 

His eyes are closed. He’s got one muscled arm propped behind his head, while the long fingers of his other hand stroke that damn blindfold thoughtfully. He turns and pierces you with that blue gaze, eyes darker than usual, and inclines his head slightly as he takes in a deep breath. His eyes rake you from head to toe, taking in the way you swim in his clothes. You pad toward the bed, crawling over the expanse of it until you lay next to him, hands laced nervously over your stomach.

He sits up to place the blindfold on the nightstand, then rolls so that he’s hovering over you. “Shall we?” he murmurs. His voice is velvet, soft and rough, and intellectual thought becomes more difficult as you try to remember the last time you kissed anyone before today.

You nod. It feels stiff, and you hope that he doesn’t notice. Hell, of course he notices. You hope that he can’t see why you’re so uptight, and do your best to tuck away your racing thoughts so that you can’t examine them either.

He raises his free hand to brush his knuckles over your cheek, touch so feather-soft that you could’ve almost imagined it. You don’t know which of you moved first, but you’re inexplicably closer to each other now, noses nearly touching. Satoru’s warm, sweet breath ghosts over your lips. His luminescent eyes scan your face, searching for… what? you wonder breathlessly.

It’s an agonizingly long moment in which your traitorous brain chants kisshimkisshimkisshim.

“Relax,” he whispers, and you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

His lips brush yours, lighter than his fingertips on your jaw. Then again, with the barest hint of pressure. You’ve only just begun, but your heart is already pounding. Satoru kisses you a third time and the trick is all but forgotten.

He moves his lips slowly, carefully against yours. You exercise every last ounce of restraint to move as slowly, as carefully as he does. Gentle as this is, your lungs are burning for air by the time he pulls back, only far enough so that you can both gulp down the warm air between you. He shifts so that his body partially covers yours before descending again. This time, in addition to the soft pressure, his tongue slides delicately over your bottom lip. 

Forgetting yourself, you grip the front of his t-shirt, dragging him down so suddenly that he grunts, mouth parting to allow your tongue to explore. You run it along the back of his teeth, the inside of his bottom lip, sliding it against his as he presses into your mouth for his turn.

His tongue is slow, gentle, as he maps the inside of your mouth. The hand that’s not propping him up is on your neck now, thumb across the front of your throat, caressing the flesh there. You begin to lose patience, unable to grasp how unaffected he is by this when you’re so close to abandoning your dignity for more, more, more. 

With as much self-control as you can muster, you slide one hand around his side under his shirt. His breath catches. Your hands must be cold. You use your grip on his shirt and his waist to pull until he loses his balance, body pressed against you for one short, blissful moment. Your eyes shoot open, meeting a roiling ocean as your hips meet and you feel something hard against your inner thigh. Wait, is he…?

He lifts himself so that he hovers over you, body too far away now for you to confirm what you thought you felt. He kisses you several times in quick succession, lighter than before, as he holds himself up over you. You wonder if you’re imagining the quiver in his limbs; you must be.

Then he pulls back with a crazed smile that doesn’t touch his eyes. His cheeks flame and his blown pupils snap with something you don’t have a name for.

“Well that was much better,” he says. Then you blink and he’s up, sitting on the side of the bed for just a second before standing up. He walks out of the room and you’re left reeling, lifting a hand to your swollen lips.

What just happened?

Anxiety is beginning to build before he’s back in the doorway with a glass of water in hand. He hits the lightswitch before coming in, hiding himself from your searching eyes in the gloom, backlit by the lamp in the living room.

“Here,” he says, handing you the glass. You sit up and take it from his hands, draining the whole thing to wash the addictive taste of him out of your mouth enough to concentrate. It hardly works.

He’s halfway across the room before you realize it, and you find panic flooding your chest again.

“Wait!” you call. He stops, turning so that you can just make out his profile in the dark.

You feel tongue-tied. Against your will, you remember the way you felt at eleven, at fourteen, at sixteen, unable to speak or move or breathe around him, so in awe of his presence.

This would be a really, really bad time for those feelings to resurface.

But you can’t seem to stop them.

“What?” You must have been quiet for too long, because his voice is tinged with worry.

You scramble for any coherent thought.

“Where are you going?”

You see him raise a hand to the back of his neck, a nervous gesture startlingly like one the boy from your scrambled thoughts makes.

“The couch. I figured you could sleep in the bed, and I-”

“You should stay,” you cut off. After what had just happened, after knowing what it felt like to kiss him, if you’d put any thought into anything else first, you’d have never gotten the words out. 

But you couldn't think. Not now, not with the taste of him on your tongue. Regardless of your mounting fear and his being the source, you couldn’t bear for him to be away from you. Not now.

Satoru didn’t say anything. He stood frozen, and again, you began to wonder whether some invisible boundary had been crossed.

Maybe this was why friends didn’t kiss each other.

Shame and nerves choked you. You shouldn’t have touched him, shouldn’t have embarrassed him like that. Of course it was natural for his thoughts to wander, it certainly had nothing to do with you. A natural response, nothing mo-

“Okay.”

You let out a breath and the pounding in your ears subsided. He left the room, returning after flipping off the light in the living room, and lowered himself gently into the bed. He stretched out on his back, hands at his sides, and you lowered yourself to the cushions with yours tucked to your chest.

The silence was deafening. You weren’t used to it, banter flowing easily from both sides for all your lives.

You turned abruptly, unable to bear it any longer.

“Toru, what happened? With Suguru? And with Shoko?”

He sucked in a breath from his place across the bed. You worried again, as was becoming too common, that you shouldn’t have spoken. He didn’t speak for so long that you thought he wouldn't answer you, and then you started to worry that he’d call off the whole fake wedding or, worse, your whole friendship.

You’d never asked, too afraid of sending him spiralling off the precipice and losing him entirely. But you were so off-balance from the raging storm of your emotions that you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“Amanai died.”

You counted several beats before speaking. “I know that part,” you said softly. “Suguru was with her when she was shot, right?”

A long pause. “Yeah.”

“And you were outside.”

“Yeah.”

“Satoru, it wasn’t your fault.”

“We were arrogant.” There was self-loathing dripping from the words. “We shouldn't have assumed the estate would be safe ground.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. This had been a mistake. Damn your curiosity, you should never have dredged this up. 

“I wanted… I killed that guy, the shooter.” You’d known, but the jolt that went through you reminded you that he’d never actually said it out loud. Not to you. “And I wanted to kill the whole group of them, that whole family that ordered the execution. Everyone who stood there, applauding that a fifteen year-old girl was dead. And I would have snapped and done it if Suguru hadn’t stopped me.”

Your heart constricted painfully. Suguru had said, but you hadn’t realized it had been so serious. Satoru let out a long sigh. Subconsciously, you reached out to loop your fingers through his. He squeezed gently.

“Remember the week after the funeral, that day I left you here? When Shoko called?” You nodded. You’d handed him the phone when Shoko asked, watching wordlessly as he stalked out, and then sat in his apartment, drowning in terror until he’d walked back through the door, silent as when he’d left. He turned to you now. Even in the dark, you could make out the faint gleam of his eyes. “Sorry for scaring you, back then,” he whispered. You reached your other hand out to lay it on his chest.

He took in another deep breath. “Suguru went out on a job. He was supposed to bring some guy in for questioning.” You waited with bated breath for him to say the words you didn’t want to hear. “He killed him.”

You sat up, peering down through the darkness. “What?”

“He killed him. Told the board that it was self-defense, but Shoko and I knew it wasn’t. He confessed it to her, and she told me.” You sat in stunned silence. This was so much worse than you’d imagined it could be.

“And you?” Satoru said nothing. Dread pricked your spine. “You… you wanted to…”

“I didn’t, though.” He’d tensed, as though he expected you to draw away at any moment. “Shoko had already built a case against him when she called me. She just needed a confession. So I got it. Even if I thought that it wasn’t fair.”

You scooted the tiniest bit closer. “Not fair?”

Satoru looked at you out of the corner of his eye, seeming to consider his next words. “That he found the absolution he denied me.”

You considered that. “Did you ever find it?” you finally asked. “Absolution?”

He seemed to hold his breath. “I think so,” he said softly. You nodded, and for long minutes, you each sat lost in thought under the cover of darkness. Then, when sleep pressed you down, you closed the last distance between you to lay your head on his chest. You felt Satoru start before carefully wrapping an arm around you. And maybe you were already dreaming, but you thought you felt him press a gentle kiss to your temple.

You wondered again if you were dreaming when you woke, warm and comfortable. You blinked yourself awake, squinting at the clock across the room. Too early. You flopped your head back down and then froze when the arm around your waist pulled you back against a feverish body.

Satoru.

You raised your head, blinking at the clock again in disbelief. Satoru was always up at the crack of dawn. 7:45 was not late, but most days he’d already be out and about. Carefully, so as not to wake him, you turned your head. His brilliant white hair flopped over his eyes, making him look vulnerable. Young, so like the little boy you’d said you’d marry all those years ago.

You smiled at the memory and rested your head back on your pillow. You looked at the clock. 7:46. You’d let him sleep until 8:00. You began to snuggle backward and froze.

You could feel Satoru’s length pressed against the curve of your butt. For one, heartstopping moment, you let yourself melt back. Then you were berating yourself. 

He was asleep, nothing more. No man woke up in bed with any girl without a hard-on and it had nothing to do with you.

The moment you broke contact, that arm tightened again, drawing you back more firmly. You muffled a groan, letting your eyes slide shut. 

A really, really bad time for those feelings to resurface again, you thought dryly, heart speeding against your ribcage. You glanced up. 7:47.

You couldn’t lay here like this for thirteen minutes. You’d just have to slide out from his grasp and hope you didn’t wake him.

Just before you moved though, Satoru breathed in deeply. His arms tightened around you again, one hand lowering to your hip to press you back against him. You held your breath as he nuzzled the side of your neck.

“Hey, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep. He curled further around you, molding your body against his. It made you feel weak. “What time is it?”

You turned to the clock again, cheeks burning. “7:48.”

“Shit!” Satoru flew up, making it from the far side of the bed to the bathroom in one fluid motion. The door slammed and you stared at it for a moment before you started to giggle. Well, so much for breakfast.

It’s 7:51 when the bathroom door flies open to reveal Satoru in all his shirtless glory, muscles rippling as he tears through his closet, toothbrush clenched between his teeth. Then it’s back to the bathroom, door not quite shut, and you have to make yourself turn away from the sliver of pale skin you can see through the crack. You hear him spit, then the door swings open again. 7:53. He’s fumbling the last few buttons on his shirt, long legs carrying him to the mirror in the corner.

“Sorry, babe, I have an errand I have to run before the meeting this morning.” He runs a hand through his hair, turning his head side to side, and then spins and walks toward you. “Tow company will be here to pick you up at nine.” He bends down, planting his hands on either side of your shoulders, and kisses you passionately before sprinting out the door. “Call me if they give you any trouble!”

The front door slams, and seven minutes after waking up, the whirlwind that is your best friend storms out the front door. You raise a hand unconsciously to your lips.

What in the world?

By the time you manage to haul yourself out of bed, after an already eventful morning, you’ve convinced yourself that this is simply more practice. Building habits, as it were, so as not to raise suspicion when you inevitably end up out with his family, out with friends.

It makes perfect sense. 

You brush your teeth and get dressed, in the same clothes you wore here yesterday, and open your laptop to get a little work done before the tow company picks you up. Just as Satoru said they would, they ring the bell at nine sharp. You stuff your laptop into your bag, locking the door with your spare key, and follow the driver to his truck. 

You make polite small-talk with the driver- mostly about your crappy car- for the short drive to the tow yard, thanking him as he holds the door open for you. When you turn toward the office, he stops you.

“Oh, miss, I have your key right here.”

He hands you a key that certainly isn’t yours. You look from it to him.

“This isn’t my key.”

The driver scratches the back of his neck, pointing across the lot. “Well, according to Mr. Gojo, it is.”

You turn to see a shiny new coupe with a massive red bow on the hood. You blink at it, then turn back to the driver. “Where’s my car?”

He shifts his weight nervously. “I don’t rightly know, miss. Mr. Gojo called yesterday and said not to worry about it. Said he’d be dropping off a new one- nothing but the best for his fiancée. Came by this morning, handed me the key himself.”

You turn back to the car in stunned silence.

“I can see about getting your old car back, miss…”

“No, thank you.” You turned to smile at the driver. “I can take it up with my fiancé.” 

The driver nodded, shuffling off to the office in the center of the lot at great speed. You walked over to your new ill-gotten vehicle, circling it slowly. This was a huge gift.

You let yourself into the driver’s seat, reveling in the luxury of a vehicle younger than yourself, let alone one of such caliber. Then, calmly, you dialed Satoru’s number.

The phone rang twice, and then he picked up with a joyous “Love of my life!”

You sucked down a breath, and then roared into the phone. “GOJO!”

——————————————————————

The final weeks until the wedding are so busy that you hardly have time to think about the day itself, but they’re a raging success.

You and Satoru go apartment hunting, despite your protests, and end up with a penthouse apartment with an office, a guest room, and more space than you know how to decorate. He hires a moving company to pack your humble, cozy apartment and his sleek one, refusing to hear any protests about keeping your lease.

“Baby, I’ve been trying to get you out of that shithole for years. You really think I’m letting this opportunity pass me by?” You grumble about making rent and he tugs you close with an arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Rent, as if. Consider it repayment for going along with all this.”

You don’t bother pointing out that “all this” was your idea in the first place; you know it would be useless.

Your parents fly in the week of the wedding and insist on taking you and Satoru out for dinner “one last time before the big day” as thanks for Satoru’s generosity in putting them up in “such a lovely hotel”.

You go to your final fitting and your dress is perfect, curving and flowing in all the right places. Your mother cries, and that sets you to crying too. 

Satoru kisses you, more than once. He kisses you first thing every morning when you emerge from his room, kisses you each time you pass each other over the course of the days, kisses you last thing at night before making himself comfortable on the couch. You have to force yourself not to ask him to stay in the bed with you, afraid of what you might do if he agrees.

You have to remind yourself that none of this is real.

Shoko comes to town, determined not to miss the big event despite the space that’s opened up between her and Satoru. Seeing them together, you realize that it probably never opened at all. It’s Suguru’s space; a tiny, infinite rift between them. You can see how bittersweet the reunion is, for both of them, and find yourself hoping that it won’t be the last time they meet. Hoping that they can both heal until they can really be friends again.

You have an incredibly tense dinner with Satoru’s parents, made all the more stressful by the agreement to do everything to sell them on the idea that you’re hopelessly in love with each other. At dinner, you hold hands through every course, constantly looking at each other with syrupy smiles and fluttering lashes. When you retire to the restaurant’s overpriced lounge for drinks, Satoru pulls you down into his lap, holding you firmly in place the entire time. He only has one drink, but he gets noticeably more handsy as the contents of his glass disappear.

You ruffle his hair affectionately, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

Only the fact that his parents are sitting feet away stops you from asking whether there’s something in his pocket, or whether he’s just happy to see you. “Lightweight,” you breathe instead, trying not to move too much lest he notice his body’s reaction and push you away. He giggles, dragging you forward to plant a sloppy kiss on your mouth. You allow yourself to relish the moment, embracing the longing you’ve begun to feel. For his parents’ benefit, you tell yourself. You’re only doing your part to sell the lie.

You can practically feel the steam coming from his mother’s ears.

Standing on Satoru’s balcony the night before the wedding, he levels you with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen from him. “Are you sure about this?”

You think back on the past months, comparing them to all the years before. What had even changed, besides the fact that now, you were friends who sometimes kissed? Who sometimes came dangerously close to feeling each other up? What had changed, besides the fact that now, you were almost certain that you’d never moved past your feelings for him?

You forced yourself to relax and smile. “I’m sure.”

Satoru took your hands in his, turning you to face him. “You’re giving up a lot for me.”

That made you laugh. You looked up, pleased to see the curve of amusement on his lips. “What am I giving up? It’s not like I’d be spending my time with anyone else. Besides, you’ve bought me a beautiful ring, a gorgeous dress, and a brand new car. I think I’m actually gonna come out of this pretty far ahead.”

“Don’t forget the penthouse,” he teased, and your smile dropped to a deadpan.

“Satoru, we’ve discussed the penthouse.” He waved this off. “I’m not keeping it!” you protested.

“Yeah, we’ll see.” He grinned down at you, breeze lifting his hair from his forehead. Without meaning to, you reached up to smooth it back, thumb running over the scar over his eyebrow. He cleared his throat, growing somber. “This time tomorrow, we’re going to be married.”

You let your fingertips drift down his cheek, allowing yourself just one more private moment of weakness before your heart ended up on display tomorrow for everyone to see. Hopefully, everyone but him. You nodded, suddenly at a loss for words. For all his sweetness, you’d seldom seen the tenderness he bent on you in the smile he offered. His eyes were liquid, soft as ever, when he raised your hand to his lips.

“Let’s get some sleep,” he murmured, and you agreed, if only to escape before his attention caused you to crumble.

——————————————————————

The wedding day itself is surreal, and it passes in a blur. You wake in Satoru’s bedroom with a bouquet of roses on the bedside, along with a note in his bold writing.

“To the best friend I’ve ever had, thank you for putting up with my shit and having my back. We both know that I’m a treasure. I only hope you know that you are, too. You deserve the world, and I will lay it at your feet. On this, our wedding day, I alone am the honored one.”

The note is signed with a flourish of his name. You smile as you raise it to your lips, taking in the faint scent of his cologne. You are the honored one on this day. You lay the note next to your bra, fully intent on keeping it close, and then you hit the ground running.

You shower and brush your teeth and after that, it’s out the door to the waiting car to be driven to the vast Gojo estate. Despite spending time here as a child, the place is still incredibly intimidating with its marble arches and sprawling gardens. You feel your heartbeat speed as you see the decorations- fairy lights and tulle, vines and roses, black silk ribbons and eucalyptus branches.

It’s more beautiful than you could have imagined.

You make your way to the guest house and sit through an hour of hair and makeup, laughing with your mother about all the childish shenanigans you and Satoru have gotten up to over the years, and calm your anxious hands and stomach by sampling the hors d’oeuvres arranged prettily on silver platters.

Your father sits in the corner, eyes shining with pride and unshed tears. He’s got a cocktail of painkillers ready to go; nothing will keep him from walking with his little girl today.

You would feel guilty if Satoru weren’t already such a fixture in all of your lives. You only hope that your parents won’t be too hurt when this is all over.

It’s only once your parents step out so that you can change into your gown that Satoru’s mother visits you.

“Tell me, my dear, must we really continue this charade?”

You feel your heart prick with ice. “I assure you, Gojo-sama, that there is no charade,” you lie smoothly. “I love your son.” Just enough honesty to ring true.

Her glare is frozen. “I will give you six million yen if you walk out of here and away from my son.”

You raise your chin in defiance. “No.”

“Seven million.”

“You cannot buy me, no matter the price.”

“Ten million yen.”

Your ire has been steadily rising since she stepped into the room. Now, it eclipses your anxiety like a crashing wave. You lean forward, well into her space, and feel a mean thrill when she leans away from you. Your voice is cold. “I do not care what you think of me. But it’s clear that you have no concept of your son’s worth.” You tilt your head, summoning the haughtiest tone you’ve ever used. “You dishonor him.” His mother reels back, scowling.

“You don’t deserve my son,” she sneers.

You laugh at that. “I agree. Yet somehow, he’s decided otherwise.”

She peers down her nose at you. You expect another round of vitriol, but to your surprise, she turns on her heel to leave. Round one, you.

You blow out your breath, shake your hands, and straighten your shoulders. Within a few minutes, your parents are back and then it’s smooth sailing again. 

Right up until you and your father hobble to the door to walk to the ceremony. 

Your father starts to sniffle. You turn and realize that he’s tearing up, putting on his bravest face and doing his utmost not to blubber. 

“Oh, papa,” you murmur. You turn to take his face in your hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, hime.” He reaches a hand up to your face, carefully avoiding your hair and touching lightly so as not to smear your makeup. “I am just so happy. Your mother and I used to talk about what a wonderful life you and Satoru would build together and now it’s finally beginning.”

The shock nearly knocks you off your feet. “You… what?”

He sniffles, patting your cheek and lowering his head to compose himself. “You make an old man proud. There’s no one else I’d rather give you away to.”

You move your mouth, but can’t form any words.

And then, it’s time. The great door creaks open and you tilt your head down to hide your expression. You take a few deep, steadying breaths before raising your head… and promptly losing them.

The lawn is surprisingly empty, though you suppose his parents planned it that way. Regardless, every face fades as you set eyes on Satoru.

Satoru, the best and oldest friend you’ve ever had.

Satoru, who’s always been in your corner, no matter what.

Satoru, who looks devastatingly handsome in black and white, with a boutonniere of one, single rose almost the same color as his eyes. Almost, but not quite. Satoru, whose eyes are wider than ever, staring slack-jawed as you make your way toward him down the aisle, moving slowly for your fathers’ sake. Satoru, whose hands drop from where they’d been fiddling with his cuffs.

Satoru, who looks at you with such longing that you nearly collapse.

Your heart stops, and then sprints to make up for lost time.

This day is going to kill you. 

You know that your face is bearing every emotion, that nothing is hidden in this instant. 

And it’s nothing compared to the way he looks at you.

It’s all an act, you remind yourself. Tears spring to your eyes. All an act, but every person in this room is eating it up. Including you. When did he get so good at acting?

The corner of his lip curls in an awestruck smile and you’re a goner.

Who were you kidding?

You let the tears stream, grateful at least that they would lend authenticity to the performance. And for the first time, you feel your heart sink. 

You’re just as in love with Satoru Gojo now as you had been at eleven years old.

You’d been a fool to think you’d get out of this unscathed.

Over the course of your mental collapse, Satoru’s smile widens until you can just make out the tiny dimples at the corners of his mouth that only ever show themselves when he’s at his happiest.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

You just have to remember that it’s all for show.

You force yourself to smile.

And know instantly that you’ve made a mistake.

You had to be twenty paces or more away, but those dimples disappeared the moment your lips spread.

No one else would ever notice, but you did.

Because no one else would ever notice, but he had.

Those cyan eyes narrowed fractionally and you knew that he could tell that something was off. You could see the anxiety surfacing as you got close.

To feel so seen…

You pursed your lips, just by a hairs’ breadth, and Satoru’s face relaxed. The silent conversation you had in those last few steps did wonders to ease your nerves, and you could tell that it did the same for him. Between one heartbeat and the next, your father was kissing your cheek, placing your hand firmly in Satoru’s outstretched one.

You couldn’t hear a word anyone said- not your father, not the priest, not even Satoru. You blinked rapidly, finally locking eyes with your fiancé.

“Baby? Are you okay?” he whispered, and you could tell from the slight strain in his voice that he was repeating the question.

You squeezed his hands. “I’m okay,” you whispered back. You let yourself fall into your role, embracing the fantasy. You felt nearly giddy. “Let’s get married.”

And oh, there was that smile again, canyon-wide and dimpled just for you. “Let’s.”

You could hardly concentrate enough to repeat your vows, too caught up in the way Satoru’s eyes sparkled, locked onto you. Too mesmerized by the way his mouth moved to truly hear what he said. Before your head could catch up with the feelings speeding through your heart, Satoru was wrapping a strong arm around your waist, pulling you firmly to his chest. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his smile.

“Hi, wifey.” And then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. You couldn’t stop your hands coming up to cradle his face; couldn’t stop your mad smile when he bent you back nearly parallel to the ground; couldn’t stop the shudder that ran down your spine at the soft moan he let out when you ran your tongue along the seam of his lips. They parted, allowing you to lick along the inside of his lip before you bit down softly.

Only the applause from your guests covered the animalistic growl that tore itself from his throat.

You felt a heady thrill at your apparent power and giggled. After a heated moment and a shaky breath, so did Satoru. He straightened, pulling you up with him, and raised your joined hands overhead for all to see.

Mr. and Mrs. Satoru Gojo.

——————————————————————

For being largely made up of Satoru’s colleagues and the elder Gojo’s business acquaintances, your guests were incredibly gracious. Every person seemed to want to personally convey their best wishes; a happy marriage, good fortunes, continued health. You and Satoru thanked each person in turn, holding hands all the while.

And each time someone new came to express their pleasure, you felt your mind and heart crack just a bit more under the weight of the lie.

“We’re almost done,” he murmured against your ear. You’d finally made your way to the dance floor, taking solace in the security and solitude of Satoru’s arms. You nodded, cheek rubbing against his chest. “You okay?” he asked.

You nodded again. “Just counting down the minutes until we can go home.”

He chuckled, drawing you closer. “Well, tell you what, then. Let me go say goodnight to my parents and then we can leave, okay?” You smiled up at him, grateful.

“That sounds wonderful, husband.”

He grinned at you with a childish sort of glee. “Glad to hear it, wife.” He leaned down, pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and then spun you away from himself. “I’ll meet you by the altar in a few minutes?”

You smiled over your shoulder, turning to survey the crowd. Your parents had left an hour ago with profuse apologies; your father’s medication was wearing off and he was going to need to be off his feet, quickly. You waved and smiled at the few friends of Satoru’s you knew- Kento Nanami, Yu Haibara, Utahime Iori, Kiyotaka Ijichi- and waded through the crowd of celebrating people.

Satoru had asked whether it bothered you that none of your friends had come. The truth was that when life got busy and your friends stopped reaching out, when no one could accept how much time and emotion you put into Satoru after the incident, you’d let most of those friendships slide. Why should you beg for anyone’s attention when the only person whose attention you truly craved centered on you to begin with?

You’d never regretted that conviction, never even questioned it. Not even today.

You made rounds to the tables that gestured you over for long minutes before excusing yourself, breaking for the altar. You were passing an alcove when you heard Shoko’s voice, and you felt yourself perk up. You hadn’t had a chance to thank her for coming, and you wanted to make sure that you didn’t miss the opportunity to talk to her. Even if you didn’t feel the need to have a lot of friends, it would be refreshing to have a girl friend again- and she’d been important to Satoru, once. You wanted to make sure that she knew her presence was more than welcome in your lives.

It was only once you reached the garden wall that you realized she didn’t sound happy.

Then you heard Satoru’s voice.

“I just really don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal out of this!”

“Because, Satoru! I understand that you care for her, but I really think you’re making the biggest mistake of your life!”

“Then let me make it!” Satoru roared, and the words had you breaking out into a cold sweat.

They couldn’t mean…?

He seemed to remember where they were and lowered his voice. “Then let me make it. If it’s such a huge mistake, you’ll be the first to know, alright? I’ll call you myself. ‘Shoko, you were right, I never should have married her.’ Is that what you want to hear?”

Your hands flew to cover your mouth, but they weren’t quick enough to muffle the pained sound that escaped you. You darted to put your back to the bower leading into their little section of the garden, praying to all the gods that you hadn’t been heard. For once, despite Satoru’s involvement, they listened.

Shoko sighed. “No, Satoru, it’s not. I just want you to be happy. I just don’t think you’re-”

You raised your hands to cover your ears and bolted away. You didn’t care how childish it was, you couldn’t bear to hear another word. You ran, heels catching small rocks and roots as you held your breath in an effort not to cry. If the tears fell, your face would puff up and your makeup would be ruined. There would be questions. You couldn’t deal with questions, especially not now.

You tucked yourself into the greenhouse and sucked down mouthfuls of cool air, staring straight at the ceiling. That was supposed to help, wasn’t it?

You couldn’t stay here for too long. You had to get control of yourself, and quickly. You tried desperately to conjure up any happy memories that didn’t involve Satoru and came up woefully short.

Maybe you needed some friends of your own, after all.

You breathed in, held, released. Breathed in, held, released. You repeated this until your hands stopped shaking, and then did it five more times for good measure. You straightened your shoulders. Then you walked back out into the throng. Head held high, smile firmly in place, you strode to the altar, catching sight of Satoru as he stepped out of the shade of a tree and into view.

Your breath caught in your throat. He was so beautiful. He beamed when he saw you, looking a touch deflated, but irritation all but vanished. You knew by the subtle shift of his eyebrows, though, that your own smile wasn’t fooling him.

——————————————————————

The ride back to your new penthouse was blessedly short, and blessedly quiet. With a driver from his parents’ staff, neither of you dared to say a word of meaning, settling on holding hands and whispering to each other about dinner and movies and sleep instead. When the car stopped, Satoru was out in a flash to open your door, handing you out like some Victorian lady. No matter how confused you felt, it made your mouth twitch up in a smile.

He led you through the apartment lobby and into the private elevator to your new home, even holding the door open for the driver following with a cart of wedding gifts. You clutched his hand the whole ride up, gluing yourself to his side even if you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. You could feel the worried glances he shot your direction when the driver wasn’t looking, though.

As soon as the elevator door opened, he was sweeping you up into his arms, striding purposefully across the short hall to your front door. You let yourself laugh as he managed to fish the keys out of his pocket without letting you slide so much as an inch, and swooned dramatically as he kicked in the door. He kissed you again and you felt your heart clench painfully. Then he turned to the driver, thanking him for his service and advising that he leave, lest he see something he’d rather not.

You’d never seen someone excuse themselves so quickly.

You both paused once the door clicked shut, waiting for the chime of the elevator, and then Satoru lowered you gently to the floor. You turned quickly, practically running into the living room. You began unfastening your jewelry, anything to keep your hands and eyes busy.

“Sweetheart?” He was worried. You knew better than to try to hide from him, but you’d hoped you could have even a moment longer to collect your thoughts. The drive here hadn’t been nearly long enough. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He was halfway across the room already. You knew that if he touched you, you’d lose your nerve.

“What did Shoko mean by ‘the biggest mistake of your life’?” The words were out before you could think better of them.

Abruptly, his footsteps stopped. The silence was deafening. With shaking hands, you laid your wedding jewelry on the coffee table, steeling yourself for whatever answer Satoru gave you.

You turned to face him and found him looking ashen and sick.

He swallowed hard.

“You heard that?”

Somehow, you’d expected something different. A denial, an indignant retort, even a joke. You scoffed in disbelief, only it didn’t sound much like a scoff. It sounded like a sob.

Satoru took two steps forward before stopping at your raised hand.

“Listen, I can explain.”

“Explain what, Gojo?” A look of profound hurt crossed his face at your use of his family name, but you couldn’t… You had to put some distance between you. You didn’t want to believe that there was any truth to the words, but you knew now that there had to be.

“You didn’t even argue with her! ‘The worst mistake of your life’?” He flinched then, finally breaking eye contact to look across the room past you. You choked on your tears, voice coming out harsh around the growing lump in your throat. “I know you never wanted to be married, but I-I thought I was helping you. I thought you wouldn’t care since it was only temporary. I thought you said this would be fun! You never told me you were having second thoughts!” 

“You’re right, I didn’t,” he said softly. “Shoko thinks I’m making a mistake because… because I’ve been in love with you since we were children.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he was reeling back, breathing ragged as his hands went to his hair, as though maybe he’d never said the words aloud. As though maybe he’d never admitted them to himself. You nearly staggered backward, too. “Please, sweetheart, just let me explain. I swear, I-”

“You’re in love with me?” you whispered. Your heart raced, hope lighting your veins aflame. Tears had been building since the conversation started. They began to run down your cheeks now, and you saw Satoru move as though he was going to come to you, to do anything to make them stop, before forcing himself to stand still. He’d always hated to see you cry.

He clenched his fists. His eyes slid shut, and the pain evident on his face was so great that you flashed, for a moment, to him waking up in that hospital bed; bindings around his wounds and tubing in his arms, oxygen mask on his face, waking so slowly, so grievously wounded that he’d asked you if he was dead.

“I would never,” he began slowly, “have made you stay.” He let that sink in before continuing, so softly that you could barely hear him. “I thought…” His voice trailed off as he sank to his knees, almost as though the words had sapped him of the strength to bear his own weight.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I tried so hard not to feel the way I felt. I know you never felt the same about me.”

Just like that, all of the pieces clicked into place. Every blank expression at every stupid joke or offhanded comment you’d made about your inevitable divorce; every flash of doubt, of disappointment in his eyes when you brought up that it was only a fake marriage; the way he’d answered Shoko, as if it hurt him to say the words; the fury he’d felt toward his parents; even the way he’d detached himself from you when your kisses had been too heated. He’d been afraid.

You began to shake your head.

Shoko thought he was making a mistake because she thought you didn’t love him. 

Because Satoru thought you didn’t love him.

He hadn’t stopped talking while your world crumbled around you.

“I thought that this was it, my chance for a little piece of all my dreams. I thought that I could have you by my side, just for a little while, that I could kiss you just once, and that it could carry me through the rest of my life.”

Your mind was spinning in a thousand directions, including a hysterical amusement. “You kissed me a lot more than once,” you whispered, a near-automated response borne of your shared sense of humor. 

Satoru let out a strangled noise. “I was selfish.” You opened your mouth to protest, to deny it, to say that you didn’t mean it like that- to tell him you loved him. But he barreled on, voice strained. 

“When you said you’d had a crush on me all those years ago, I thought ‘what if I could make her fall in love with me?’ I thought ‘this could be the rest of my life.’ And then you kissed me in the gym, and I knew that I had to try something, anything, everything. I knew that I…” He sucked in a deep breath and let out a breathless, awful, self-loathing laugh. “I thought that I couldn’t survive on just one kiss.”

He hung his head, burying his face in his hands. “Shoko knew the moment that she saw us together that I’d never told you how I felt. She figured it out so fast, I didn’t even get a chance to deny it.”

You’d unconsciously moved closer as he’d spoken. You threaded your fingers lightly through his hair and the air went out of him. He folded forward, hands coming to rest on either side of your feet.

“Please, baby, please forgive me. Shoko was right, it was unfair. It was so unfair to you. I’m so sorry.”

You tilted his head back to look up at you. He let you do it with a sharp intake of breath, gazing up at you with so much feeling that it nearly swept you off your feet.

“Please, sweetheart, say something. Anything,” he pleaded. He’d leaned forward to wrap his hands around the backs of your knees, drawing you closer to him. “Please.”

You had never in your life, ever heard Satoru beg for anything. Your heart galloped in your chest. 

“You weren’t unfair,” you whispered. You opened your mouth to say more, but he was already stuttering out more apologies as if you hadn’t spoken. If he was experiencing anything like the roaring in your ears, he probably hadn’t heard you.

“Please, please, forgive me. I’ll do anything. We can get an annulment tomorrow if you want, to hell with my parents. Just please, let me make it right. I’ll never say another word about this, not one.” He pressed his face further into your thighs, murmuring against the fabric. “I can’t be without you. I would die without you.”

Everything in your chest constricted violently. 

Of course, Satoru had a penchant for wild dramatics, making insane exaggerations out of anything and everything. A papercut was a mortal wound, a stubbed toe a shattered leg; a few degrees too warm and it was the seventh circle of hell, a few degrees too cool and it was the ninth; a runny nose might as well be a terminal illness, and boredom was just as serious.

This was not one of those exaggerations.

You didn’t want to think about a life without him, couldn’t dream of it, not even in your worst nightmares. Separating the two of you from each other was impossible, in any circumstance, in any world.

You knelt down, slotting your legs with Satoru’s, and tugged him forward by his hair. Your breaths mingled in the infinite, infinitesimal space between you, before you kissed him. The groan he let out was that of a wounded animal- pleading, haunted, and full of despair- as his hands rose to your cheeks. You could feel his restraint in the way his hands held you from coming any closer, in the way he barely moved his slack mouth, letting you kiss him. 

“Please,” he whispered again, and you could hear his heart breaking on the word. “Please don’t leave me. You can’t say goodbye to me. Not like this.”

“You idiot,” you whispered. Slowly, between kisses, you murmured, “Don’t you know I’ve been in love with you since the day we met?” Against all odds, Satoru pulled back from you, holding your face away from his between shaking hands. 

“Say it again,” he whispered, voice shot. 

“I’ve been in love with you-” And then, he’s kissing you, and there’s nothing restrained about it, and you realize just how much he must have been holding back when he’d kissed you before.

This isn’t his stunned inaction from the kiss in the gym; not the gentle exploration of your practice kissing, where it should have been obvious that he meant to memorize the way it felt; not the giddy, showy kiss from the altar and certainly not the chaste, PG kisses you’d shared throughout the reception. 

No. This kiss was all-consuming, desperate. Like Satoru meant to devour you, and maybe he did. He lapped at the inside of your lips, moaning softly. His long fingers roved over your body, pulling you closer until you gasped, and even that seemed to be not enough. 

He let out an impatient noise, low in the back of his throat, before dragging you forward and up in one fluid motion. His hands gripped you with near-bruising force, pulling you by your knees to wrap your legs around him, and then your back hit the cool glass wall of your penthouse with a dull thud.

You half gasped, half giggled through Satoru’s apologies, muffled by the incessant slide of his lips on yours. His lean, hard body pressed fully along yours, moving against you almost of its own accord. You could feel the thundering of his heart against your chest. With his hips pinning yours to the wall, he lifted one hand from its place at your waist to grip the back of your neck. 

Your hands finally, after all of the shock and movement of what was probably only the last 20 or so seconds, landed in his hair to tangle in the snowy strands. Satoru keened into your mouth, pressing even harder against you, a vibrating mass of wiry muscle and lanky elegance. You dropped one hand to squeeze at his bicep and wondered how you had ever ignored how hot your best friend was. 

The hand on the back of your neck tightened, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, allowing Satoru to stroke your tongue with his, gentle and searching and urgent all at once. The hand at your waist pulled you relentlessly forward, molding your bodies together, and you squeezed your legs to keep his hips locked against yours.

Satoru was murmuring against your lips, against the sensitive skin of your throat, against the shell of your ear, hot breath lighting your skin on fire where it touched. You caught only snatches of what he was saying, a litany of praise and pleading.

“I love you, I love you, I want you, I need you, stay with me, don’t leave me, let me please you, my wife, my wife, my perfect wife.”

Your head thumped against the wall as you tilted it back, granting him access to leave a trail of sloppy kisses from your mouth to your ear, down your throat to your collarbone, across the sheer material of your wedding gown to bite softly at your shoulder.

“Marry me,” he groaned.

You couldn’t help the airy giggle that bubbled up. “I already did.”

“Marry me for real,” he whined, breathless.

“Yes. Of course, yes.” “Yes,” he hissed, finally shifting away from your poor living room wall with you in his arms. He stumbled down the hallway, drunk on you, toward your marital bedroom, unable to stop kissing you. “I’ve been in love with you for so long that I don’t even know who I am without loving you. If I’m even a person without loving you.”

“I was so afraid that you didn’t love me the way I loved you that I spent years trying to convince myself that I didn’t love you, but I never could,” you confessed, words rushing out, and Satoru let out a sob against your throat.

“I could never not love you,” he groaned. “Never in a million years, not in any life. I have wanted you…”

He bit the sentence off, stumbling as his knees hit the bed. He lowered you reverently to the plush duvet with an arm braced above your head, kisses slowing and softening as he stroked your cheek. “I’ve always wanted to marry you,” he murmured. “I’ve wanted you for so…” He trailed off, trembling as your hands slid up beneath his shirt to trace the lithe muscles of his back, and nuzzled behind your ear. He moaned brokenly. “Tell me if I’m moving too fast,” he whispered. “Tell me if you want to stop.”

You traced your hands down his sides, revelling as he panted in your ear. You raised your knees to stroke his thighs, his hips, before wrapping your legs slowly, deliberately around his slim waist, locking your heels at the small of his back. He took a great, shuddering breath, instinctively bending toward you when you raised your hands to shuck off his tuxedo jacket. Your fingers danced up to unbutton his vest before moving to his shirt, torturously slowly. You forced yourself to take your time, forced yourself not to yank and hope that the buttons would fly off like in some cheesy rom-com.

By the time you finished, you almost worried that Satoru would shake apart above you. He looked absolutely ruined; jaw clenched, eyes squeezed shut, a euphoric pain painted across every feature. You let your eyes rove his beautiful body, tracing scars with sight and touch alike until you reached the waistband of his trousers. All of the breath went out of him in a loud whoosh, and he dropped the hand stroking your face to the mattress to stop himself from crushing you. His eyes snapped open, a brilliant, dark turquoise nearly eclipsed by shimmering black. His mouth hung open, lust and love and disbelief warring as he frantically searched your face.

You crooked a tiny smile at him, and then leaned up until your lips brushed his. “I don’t want to stop.” He whined, surging forward to kiss you, grinding his hips down to yours with delicious pressure. “I think… we’ve waited… long enough,” you panted between kisses.

Oftentimes, Satoru couldn’t shut up. You’d been friends for so long that his incessant chatter ceased to phase you in the slightest. But you’d never heard him talk so much.

Any time his smart mouth wasn’t occupied with you, it was running. He alternated between babbling praise and incoherent adoration and begging you, though for what, you couldn’t be sure, since he was, by his own distraught admissions, getting everything he’d ever wanted, dreamed of, hoped for, waited for. He couldn’t seem to stop, and it stoked your ego in ways you’d never known you’d wanted, never imagined could turn you on so much.

And despite his obvious anguish, despite the delicious agony it took to exert his control, despite fifteen or more years of never daring to hope, or perhaps because of that, he put you first just like he always did, following only once he was satisfied that you had been, too.

——————————————————————

It hadn’t been the wedding night you’d expected- as far from traditional as it was from the plan- but you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, no matter how it had come about. 

In the watery sunlight, you rolled to face your husband. Husband. He loosened his grip to let you, hand coming to rest on your bare hip as you settled to face him. His eyes bored into yours, sharp and bright as a storm.

“Hey,” you whispered.

“Hey,” he replied, and the low rumble of his voice sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine and straight between your aching thighs.

You reached up, carding your hands through his hair, and marvelled at the way his eyes fluttered closed. He was like putty beneath your touch. He turned to kiss your palm, drawing your hand down to cover his heart. He stared at you intensely.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming,” he murmured.

You raised one eyebrow in amusement. “That’d be some dream.”

“Best dream of my life.” He pulled you flush against him, pressing his lips to yours and sliding his tongue across your teeth, morning breath be damned. “Be better if it never ended.” He kissed from the corner of your mouth across your jaw, to that sensitive spot behind your ear. “Be best if it wasn’t a dream at all.”

You gripped his neck, pulling him closer, drowning in him. “It’s not a dream,” you whispered.

“Thank goodness,” he groaned. He rolled over to pin you to the bed, hands coming up to lace his fingers with yours. “I am so in love with you.” He traced your rings with one finger, lips spreading in a sleepy, adoring smile. “My beautiful wife.”

You giggled, face splitting in an uncontrollable smile, and leaned up to kiss him. “And I am so in love with you.” Another kiss as you stroked his ring in return. “My handsome husband.” And if the curve of his lips against your jaw and the movement of his body against yours was anything to go by, you were about to be shown how in love with you he was all over again.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 15] Ren The Cat

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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“Satoru, can we talk?” Shoko exits the bathroom, and she luckily bumps into Satoru. Satoru shakes his head, his eyes falling on you as you run out of the place. He’s about to run after you, but Shoko stops him. Her hand goes to his forearm.

“What the fuck are you doing? Why the hell is she running off?” Satoru sounds irritated, and Shoko knows that if she lets go, he’ll stop you. He’s about to push her away, and she knows that he’s much stronger.

“Let her go. It’s an emergency.” She says, and he furrows his brows. An emergency? Like what?

“Someone better be in the hospital.” Satoru responds, and this wave of guilt hits Shoko. For too many of her actions, the biggest of all is her hiding his son from him. She shouldn’t care, it’s none of her business.

“Satoru…” Her heartbeat races, and she’s about to stop herself from talking. She shouldn’t, it’s not her place. But you’re not speaking up ever, and Satoru deserves to know about the existence of his son. “She’s going to see Ren at the hospital.”

“The cat? Why the fuck–” Satoru begins but he’s cut off. The next words that leave her mouth, leave him dumbfounded.

“Ren isn’t a cat. Ren is her son.” Shoko blurts out. Satoru feels his blood boil at the mere thought of you being with someone else. He’s confused though, why would you hide the fact that you have a kid? Shoko tries to read his emotions, but she can’t. It’s hard.

“Who’s the father?” Satoru asks, wondering if it’s someone he knows. It doesn’t click in his head quite that second. Shoko gives him a moment to think about it, but it doesn’t occur in his head. Shoko has to tell him,

“I don’t think you get it… Why would she not tell you that she has a son?” Shoko feels like she’s dumbing it down. Satoru isn’t an idiot, but a million thoughts run through his head. He shrugs. “Ren is her son. Your son. She’s leaving because you have a son together, and he’s in the hospital.”

“You’re lying. She would tell me. She wouldn’t keep that from me.” Satoru answers, and Shoko lets go of him. He goes chasing after you, but you’re gone. He’ll just stop by every hospital nearby, until he finds you. He’ll remember the name– Either Ren has your last name, or his. He’ll ask about either name.

“Satoru…” You stand up from your chair, and you watch as tears well up in his eyes as he takes in the scene. Shoko wasn’t lying– Ren doesn’t have his last name, but one swift look at the kid and he realizes that is his son. That’s his spitting image.

You stare at each other, frozen in time. Your heart feels as if it’s in your throat, and your mind chases a thousand miles per hour as you think of what you’ll say next. What can you say? You weren’t exactly preparing yourself for this moment, you thought this would never happen. How fucking stupid.

While Satoru feels betrayed. Utterly hurt. He’s always thought the best of you; you were damn near the perfect woman. Yet you’ve betrayed him in the worst possible way. You hid his own flesh and blood from him… For what?

But Satoru isn’t going to argue, not when a little boy that he just met is in pain, and the kid is calling him daddy. Satoru rushes to Ren’s side, pressing a kiss on his forehead. Satoru isn’t quite sure what to say, what do you say to your son? A kid that’s probably almost five, a kid you just met? 

“He has appendicitis, he has surgery in the morning.” You inform him. Should you tell him to go back to his event? And deprive Satoru and Ren from this sweet moment? You have no option but to sit back down and watch the scene unfold.

“I’ll be by your side, buddy. Everything’s gonna be okay.” Satoru’s finger pushes Ren’s hair out of his face. Satoru takes in the little details of his son’s face. Ren has your nose, but apart from that, he looks just like Satoru. Tears stream down Satoru’s face, and his voice breaks, in disbelief that this is happening, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier, Ren. Your daddy is here now.”

You feel nauseous, tears streaming down your face as you watch them. Guilt for the last couple months that you’ve kept him hidden when Satoru was right in front of you. But you didn’t. You could’ve defied Mrs. Gojo’s orders, but you selfishly didn’t. You watch as Satoru kisses his son’s forehead again.

If he could, Satoru would hug Ren so tight that he’d nearly leave the boy breathless. But he can’t. He’ll do it next week though, when Ren is better. 

The sweet moment is interrupted by his ringing phone, and Satoru takes it out. His mother calls, and he’s about to pick up since he has this news; she’s a grandmother. For a moment he stares at the phone, and he realizes something. You’ve mentioned Ren the cat before and his mother knew. His mother fucking knew. That’s why you’re working with her, because his mother knows that she has a grandson.

He declines the call, instead he focuses on his son. Grabbing his tiny hand, and taking note of every crevice. He always swore that when he had a baby, he’d look at every finger and toe individually, and he’d count them over and over again. He can’t believe he missed that.

There’s a smile on Ren’s face as he looks at his father, finally meeting the man that he’s been waiting for. 

“Granny!” Ren shouts when his grandmother comes to sight. Your mother, who happily walks in with food but drops the bag when she sees him. Satoru looks back at your mother, and it’s like she’s just seen a ghost. Satoru walks over to her, and wraps his arms around your mother.

She isn’t sure what to do as Satoru hugs her. This isn’t the same little kid that would come running to her after an injury, the man that hugs her is the father of her grandson. A man that’s left many unattended wounds in her daughter. Satoru pulls away, and goes back to his son.

Your mother looks at you, watching as you silently cry. It seems as if more tears stream down your face when Satoru asks, “So how old are you, buddy? Sorry for not knowing.”

Ren puts up four fingers, excitedly replying, “Four!”

“Nice to see he isn’t in pain anymore.” Your mother comments. Your hand holds onto Ren’s, and you rest your head on the empty space of the mattress again, listening to your son and his father talk.

Ren is taken in the morning, and Satoru assures him that he’ll be there right after surgery. Neither of you slept a wink last night, and you hope that while you wait you can sleep for an hour or so. You doubt you will though since you have a lot to talk about. So much to talk about. 

When you’re left alone, you sit in silence for a minute. Both of you gather your thoughts. Until Satoru finally clears his throat, “So you faced me everyday like that? Like you weren’t hiding anything. You were planning on keeping quiet about my son.”

“I tried to tell you when I was pregnant.” You answer, and you take a deep breath. That’s not good enough. Not now, not when you’ve been seeing each other daily. “And then… Mrs. Gojo didn’t want me to tell you.”

“And why the hell did you listen to her?” Satoru slowly begins to see red. His own mother did this to him. He has no trouble believing you, it does seem like something his mother would do. “You had no problem looking me in the eye while hiding him.”

“She gave me an opportunity that would make my life easier, I would obviously listen to her.” You respond. “You started over with someone else, I feel like I’d ruin everything if I’d come out of nowhere with a child.”

“You don’t have to lie to me. You don’t care about that, do you? You’re just scared I’ll take Ren from you.” He says, and maybe Satoru remembers how you are. 

“I struggled with him for so long, the last thing I need is for you to take him from me. You have no right to take him from me. I don’t care if you can financially support him better than me, he’s my son.” You get defensive, and Satoru’s hand goes over your own to reassure you. He squeezes it, feeling tears well up in his eyes again. He hates that this is how you think of him. It’s not unwarranted.

“And I won’t take him from you, but at the very least I deserved to know. I deserved to know I have a son.” He’s clearly upset, and his emotions reflect in his voice with every word that leaves his lips. “Do you know how hurt I am? You hid my own flesh and blood from me, you know better than anyone how badly I wanted to be a father.”

“I wanted to tell you, Satoru. I tried to tell you. But then I realized you had other priorities, and I understood that I didn’t need you by our side. And I’m sorry that it happened like this, but you’re partially at fault for the outcome.” You answer, standing up from your seat. You need a breath of fresh air and a shower. You begin to walk towards the door, and it opens before your hand goes to the doorknob. You’d be terrified of her at any other time, but not now. You take a deep breath,

“Mrs. Gojo… Your son is here to speak with you.”