#wish they’d let him keep that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thedensworld · 1 month ago

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Black Card Issue | L. Jh

Genre: fluff, est. relationship, smut

Summary: after a fight, Jihoon didn't expect to receive notifications for a revenge. However, he's not complaining.

Note: having so much fun writing this with @hoshifighting please check lyla's blog here!

Welcome to the densworld woozi🧚‍♀️

Jihoon is a chill man. Very chill. He values his peace of mind so much that no one dares disturb him when he’s in the zone, writing music. His studio is his sanctuary, a place where time stops and the world outside becomes irrelevant. No one crosses that boundary. No one—until you came into his life.

A little bundle of surprise, Jihoon would say with a soft smile. You changed everything.

You love surprises. It’s something Jihoon figured out pretty early on, back when you were just dating. And now, after years together and tying the knot, he knows it’s not just something you like—it’s a part of you. You’re the kind of person who thrives on spontaneity. The joy in your eyes when you do something unexpected, whether it’s a small gift or a sudden change of plans, has become a familiar sight. Surprises are so integral to your personality that impulsivity became second nature to you, a habit you didn’t even realize you had.

And Jihoon? Well, he’s had to become well-trained in handling it.

It wasn’t always easy, especially in the beginning. Six months into dating, Jihoon was already struggling to keep his composure around you. You were a whirlwind of energy and unpredictability, and Jihoon was the type who liked things calm and structured—especially when it came to his work. But then you would send him something, like that photo on an ordinary Tuesday afternoon, just as he was about to attend a critical production meeting. A suggestive caption accompanying a picture of you that left him flushed and flustered.

He spent the rest of that day with his head spinning, barely able to focus on anything other than you.

His team noticed, of course. They always noticed when Jihoon was distracted—because it was rare. They’d been with him for over ten years, watching him pour his soul into his music, dedicated and unwavering. But you? It took you mere months to have Jihoon wrapped around your finger. And the best part? Jihoon willingly let it happen. He wanted to be wrapped around your finger.

And as much as his members teased him, he didn’t mind. Jihoon had always been the calm one, the focused one, the one who could drown out the world when he needed to. But with you, he didn’t want to drown out anything. He wanted to hear your laughter in the background while he worked. He wanted to receive those random photos in the middle of his meetings, even if they made him blush.

Now, Jihoon finds himself in his studio. Not the one at home, but the company studio. It was unusual—his fellow producers were surprised to see him there at this hour. 10 a.m.? That’s too early for Jihoon to be at work, they thought, especially since he rarely left the home studio after getting married.

“Did you two fight?” Soonyoung asked, making a quick stop before his schedule.

Jihoon didn’t answer. He simply turned the volume up, drowning out Soonyoung’s voice. Soonyoung scoffed but left, convinced that the only reason Jihoon would be at the company so early was if you two had fought. He knew Jihoon too well.

"Stop working for a while, man. Give your wife a rest," Soonyoung muttered as he left the studio. Jihoon cursed internally. How could Soonyoung read him so easily?

The truth was, last night didn’t go well. It was one of those nights Jihoon wished he could rewind—just take it all back. He came home late again, far too late. The kind of late where the house was eerily quiet, and the only light on was the one in the living room. He didn’t even realize how long he’d been working until he saw the notifications on his phone—your texts, your missed calls.

His heart sank. The guilt hit him immediately, but exhaustion numbed him from fully acknowledging it. He braced himself as he turned the knob, pushing the door open, hoping maybe you had gone to bed. But there you were, sitting on the couch, arms crossed, your phone lying idle beside you. You weren’t saying a word, but your silence screamed disappointment. And Jihoon knew—he’d screwed up again.

He paused at the doorway, waiting for you to say something, anything, but you didn’t. The air between you was suffocating, thick with unspoken words. He could feel your eyes on him, and it made his stomach twist. He hated it when you looked at him like that, like you were waiting for him to care enough to explain himself.

But instead of apologizing, instead of doing what he knew he should have done, Jihoon snapped.

"I work for you! I work hard to afford the life you want! Why don’t you understand?!" His voice rose, frustration dripping from every word. He didn’t mean it to come out that way. He didn’t mean to make it sound like you were the problem, like you were the one pushing him to the edge. But in that moment, he was too overwhelmed to control it.

The silence that followed was deafening. He saw the way your face fell, the way your shoulders slumped as if his words had physically weighed you down. You didn’t even argue back. You just stood there, absorbing the blow, your eyes wide and hurt, like you couldn’t believe the person you loved could say something so cruel. Jihoon could see it—the disappointment, the pain, the betrayal in your eyes.

He knew you weren’t with him for his money. He knew that from the start. You never cared about his fame, his success. You never asked for lavish gifts or expensive things. What you wanted—what you always asked for—was him. His time. His presence. But Jihoon, in his frantic rush to meet deadlines and exceed expectations, had forgotten.

He was so tired. The stress had piled up to the point that it felt like he was suffocating under the weight of everyone’s demands. His work was relentless, the pressure from his team to deliver perfection was unending, and somewhere along the way, he started feeling less like a person and more like a machine. And in all of that, he had forgotten you were the one person who treated him like a human being. The only person who reminded him to eat, to sleep, to rest.

But last night, Jihoon saw something in your eyes he never wanted to see again—pain. He had hurt you, and the worst part was, you didn’t deserve it.

You didn’t even say a word as you left the room, walking away with that shattered expression on your face. He stood there, frozen, wanting to chase after you, to take back everything he’d said, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t think straight. The weight of everything felt too much.

Jihoon ended up sleeping in his home studio that night, staring blankly at his laptop screen, his mind racing with regret. He didn’t get any work done. How could he? All he could think about was the way you looked at him, the way your lips trembled like you were fighting back tears, the way you didn’t even argue because you were too hurt to speak. He hated himself for it.

The guilt gnawed at him all night, so by the time morning came, he couldn’t bear to be in the same house. He thought if he went to the company studio, if he just got out, maybe it would clear his head. Maybe he could focus on work and forget how badly he had messed up.

But he couldn’t. You were all he could think about. Even surrounded by equipment and projects, even as he tried to drown himself in work, his thoughts kept drifting back to you. The regret kept replaying in his mind like a broken record, and the truth settled in his chest like a lead weight—he could never stop thinking about you. He never could.

And now, sitting alone in the company studio, he could still see your face in his mind, the hurt he had caused, and it tore him apart.

"Jihoon…" His manager knocked on the door, pulling Jihoon from his deep focus. He turned his head toward the reflection in the glass and saw someone entering. Quickly, he put down his headphones.

"The bank called me," his manager said, concern lacing his voice. "Someone's been making a lot of purchases with your account, and they couldn’t reach you. So, I got worried."

Jihoon blinked, realization dawning as he remembered he had turned off his phone earlier to avoid distractions. He hurriedly switched it back on, and as expected, notifications flooded his screen. Among them were a surprising number of texts from you.

Curious, Jihoon opened your messages, and his eyes widened. You had sent him a series of photos—shopping bags piled high, receipts for luxury items, and then… a car. You bought a car?

Jihoon sighed, rubbing his temples as he scrolled through the notifications of credit charges—clothes, electronics, and more. Why did you decide to buy all of this in one day?

"Everything’s fine. It’s just… my wife," Jihoon said, a little embarrassed as he reassured his manager. "No one’s using my card without permission."

His manager chuckled, seeming relieved, before leaving Jihoon alone with his thoughts.

Just as Jihoon exhaled, another text popped up. A photo of you in a jacuzzi, clearly in some luxurious hotel, wearing a brand new red bikini. The caption that followed made Jihoon’s breath hitch.

You: Want to give me the life I want? Come here. Turns out, spending your money doesn’t satisfy me enough.

Jihoon sighed deeply, his face growing warm as he hurriedly turned off everything in his studio. It was no use—he’d have to go get his black card back from you. Or maybe get something else.

You feel the dash of cold air hit your skin as you lay back against the heated tiles of the jacuzzi, legs lazily draped over the edge. You can’t help the little smirk pulling at your lips as you scroll through Jihoon’s texts. He’s gonna kill you. Well, maybe not kill, but he’ll definitely be pissed off. The shopping spree, the car, the photos—God, you knew exactly what you were doing. Pressing his buttons like that, getting him riled up on purpose, all because he had the audacity to shout at you last night.

But, you’re done with his bullshit excuses. He can whine about deadlines and stress all he wants, but you’re not here for that. You’re here for him, and clearly, he needs a little reminder.

The door to the hotel room opens, and even with the sound of the jacuzzi jets bubbling, you hear it. He’s here. Your heart skips a beat as the familiar, steady thud of Jihoon’s shoes echo in the space. He doesn’t say anything at first, but you can feel the burden of his stare on you, heavy and unrelenting. His presence is like a storm, silent but brewing.

You stretch your arms above your head, not even looking up, knowing full well he’s staring.

“Took you long enough,” You hum, voice saturated by fake innocence, like you hadn’t been the one who set the whole thing in motion. “figured you’d be quicker if i spent a little more of your money.”

Silence.

Then, the sound of him setting something down—his keys? maybe his bag? You don’t care. You hear the shuffle of his shoes being kicked off, and that’s when you finally open your eyes.

Jihoon stands at the edge of the jacuzzi, arms crossed, jaw tight, his eyes dreary and locked onto you.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he finally speaks, voice low, a growl almost. “what do you think you’re doing?”

You shrug, acting like you don’t feel the tension. “Just giving myself a little treat. After all, i am your wife. Don’t i deserve the best?”

Jihoon doesn’t say anything, just stares at you for a moment longer before his hands move to his belt. Your eyes widen, mouth parting slightly. “Oh, you think this is funny? You think you can just spend my money, send me those pictures, and i’ll come running?”

“Well, you did come running…” You mumble as if you were talking to yourself.

Jihoon moves, and before you know it, he’s crouched beside the jacuzzi, fingers hooking into the strap of your bikini top, pulling you closer to him with little resistance. “You know,” he murmurs, his voice rough, “this is the last thing you’ll be wearing tonight.”

Before you can even form a reply, he tugs at the fabric, and the red bikini snaps, tearing with a sharp rip.

Jihoon stands back up, the smirk on his face teasing you in a way that gets under your skin. His hand casually tosses the torn bikini top aside like it’s nothing, he looks at you, riling you up on purpose. He doesn’t rush; he takes his time pulling off his shirt, his pants.

You narrow your eyes, trying to keep the annoyance in check, but he’s pushing your buttons. “Really?” you ask. “You had to rip it off just to mess with me? You’re such an asshole”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, taking a step closer until he's right in front of you again. He leans down, pushing you back into the jacuzzi, the water sloshing as your back hits the edge. “You look mad, but I bet you’re dripping right now.”

You can even think of a response, his hand slips into your bikini bottoms just as he sits down. His fingers brush lightly over your clit, not applying pressure, just teasing, circling it slow just to watch you squirm. You twitch under his touch, your legs parting on instinct, hips bucking just slightly. He’s not giving you enough, and he knows it.

“You like to play these games, baby?” he murmurs. “Teasing me, spending all my money. What’s the real reason, huh? Just wanted my attention this bad?”

You bite back a moan, refusing to let him win so easily. “Shut up,” you manage to grit out, but the breathlessness in your voice betrays you. His thumb starts rubbing a little harder, making the bud throb on his thumb. You feel your body arching toward him, a needy moan escaping despite yourself.

“No...” he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. “I wanna hear you say it. You knew I’d come running, right?”

His fingers press harder now, slipping lower, teasing your entrance without pushing in. Your hands grip the edge of the tub, eyes rolling back slightly as he continues torturing you.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you hiss, your words catching in your throat as his fingers pick up the tempo. He’s still circling, still rubbing, but it’s not nearly enough. You need more, and he knows it.

“Oh, I’m annoying?” he growls softly, leaning his weight into you, fingers pressing harder, deeper, but still not giving you what you need. “What’s annoying is you buying cars and booking hotels like you don’t already have everything you want right here.”

Your legs spread wider, hips instinctively grinding down against Jihoon’s fingers as they tease your entrance. Your hand shoots up to grip his wrist, trying to gude his fingers in, but he stills the arm, cupping you. His other hand trails up your chest, stopping to toy with your nipples, flicking and squeezing them just enough to make you gasp. Then, wetting the valley of your breasts, his hand moves to your throat, wrapping around it in a firm grip, pushing your head back until it rests on the cold border of the jacuzzi.

“You’re so needy,” Jihoon mutters, watching as your mouth falls open, eyes half-lidded, breath coming out in shallow pants. You feel his thumb graze over your bottom lip, smirking as if he’s amused by just how desperate you’ve become. He hasn’t even given you what you want yet, but you’re already a mess for him.

Finally, his fingers push inside, just one at first, but the way your body responds—instantly clenching, your pussy practically swallowing his finger whole—makes him groan low in his throat. The water ripples around the two of you, splashing lightly against your skin as his movements grow rougher.

“God, you’re soaked,” he chuckles, voice almost mocking as his finger curls inside you, hitting that sweet spot making your hips jerk by their own. Even with the water swirling around, Jihoon can feel the heat between your thighs, the sticky slickness of your folds clinging to his fingers as he slides in another.

Your grip tightens on his wrist, trying to pull him closer, but he doesn't let up. Instead, his fingers work you harder, pumping in and out of you making the water splash with every push. The sound is obscene, the wet slaps of his fingers echoing in the room, blending with your suffered moans, and Jihoon's grunts.

You lift your gaze to him, lips parted, eyes pleading, practically begging for more. You look up at Jihoon with a needy expression that you know drives him crazy. But he just grins, slowing his movements slightly, his hand tightening around your throat.

“Aww, look at you,” he coos, voice soft despite the way his fingers are fucking into you hard, relentless. “Such a pretty little mess. You like this, don’t you? Me ruining you with just my fingers?”

You can’t form words, your head tilting back more as his pace quickens again, fingers curling deep, hitting the spongy spot that makes your vision blur. The water splashes harder now, droplets spilling over the edge of the tub as your hips buck in time with his thrusts. Your legs tremble, thighs shaking, and all you can manage is a soft whimper, your entire body arching toward him.

Jihoon chuckles again, watching you fall apart beneath him. “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, fingers pumping in and out faster, thumb rubbing over your clit in quick circles. “You’re so fucking tight… taking it so well. What do you want, huh? You want more?”

Your breath catches in your throat, his words making your body ache. You nod frantically, too overwhelmed to say anything. The hand around your throat loosens slightly, giving you a moment to breathe, but he doesn’t stop. His fingers continue their brutal pace, fucking you deep, and you know he’s not stopping until you cum around his long fingers.

You feel your stomach flip when Jihoon curls his fingers and stills them, making your body arch off the jacuzzi edge as you instinctively reach for him, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling him down to kiss you.

The kiss is brutish, dirty—his lips smashing into yours, teeth clashing as his tongue slips into your mouth. He sucks your tongue hard, biting down on your bottom lip in that way that always makes your legs tremble. You can’t focus, the pleasure building too fast, making it impossible to keep up with the kiss. But you try, you desperately try, your hands clutching tighter in his hair.

It’s only a matter of seconds before your body betrays you. You moan into his mouth, the sound low and drawn out, muffled by the kiss. You pull him closer, your grip tightening painfully in his hair as the pleasure crests, your body trembling as your back arches impossibly high.

Your nipples graze his chest, the sensation of your sensitive skin brushing against his, makes him shiver, his breath hitching as your slick cunt clenches hard around his fingers.

Your moans become more frantic, desperate, and you can’t keep kissing him anymore. Your mouth falls open, head tilting back as you gasp for air, your body seizing up with the strength of your orgasm.

Your pussy tightens around his fingers, your thighs shaking uncontrollably as you cum, the water splashing violently around you from the press of your movements. Jihoon smirks down at you, clearly proud of himself, fingers still thrusting into you even as you come down from your high. “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, voice soft but teasing. “Cum all over my fingers.”

Your mind is still swimming in the hangovers of your orgasm when Jihoon suddenly pulls his hand away. You’re left panting, trying to catch your breath, but he’s already manhandling you, turning you around and pressing you into the edge of the tub.

“Get on all fours,” he orders. You don’t hesitate, your body moving on autopilot as you shift into position, knees pressing into jacuzzi, hands bracing yourself against the edge.

Jihoon’s grip is firm as he presses you down, making sure you don’t slip on the slick surface. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you steady while he strokes himself behind you. You glance back, seeing him gripping his cock, pumping himself slowly, the tip flushed red and dripping with pre-cum, some veins popping up when he cuts the blood circulation. The sight makes your mouth water.

He lines himself up with you, the head of his cock teasing your wet pussy, but he doesn’t push in just yet. Instead, he grabs your bikini bottom—what’s left of it anyway—and yanks it harshly to the side, exposing your swollen, sensitive folds. You feel the fabric digging into your skin, tight and uncomfortable.

Jihoon watches, mesmerized, as your pussy clenches around nothing, your body still sensitive from your previous orgasm. Slowly Jihoon pushes inside. He takes his time, savoring the way your walls squeeze around him, they way you slick starts to coat him too, your body struggling to accommodate his size. You whimper, fingers clawing at the edge of the tub, trying to keep yourself stable as he fills you inch by inch.

He moans deep in his throat, the sound oscillating through his chest as he bottoms out, his cock buried fully inside you.

You bite your lip, arching your back even more, desperate to take him deeper. “Jihoon… please…”

But he just chuckles darkly, pulling out slowly, only to slam back in, making the water splash around you both again. “Oh, you’ll get what you want,” he promises. “Just keep taking it like that.”

His fingers tangle in your hair, tugging hard enough to make you gasp. The sharp pull has you arching back, your spine curving as he yanks you up against his chest, your back pressing flush against his front. The new angle makes his cock hit even deeper, your breath hitching as the tip grazes that swollen spot inside you.

Jihoon glances at the nearby mirror, his eyes glued to the reflection of your bodies. Your tits bounce with every thrust, soft and flushed, his eyes darken, watching the way your skin sticks to his, the way your body—though trembling—melts against him, sacrificing to the pleasure despite every nerve in your body wanting to tense up.

He moans suffered, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, feeling the warmness radiating off your skin. You’re burning up, both of you are, your bodies slick with sweat despite being submerged in water seconds after. Jihoon can’t help but bury his face against your neck, breathing you in, skin to skin, letting the sensation take over him.

“Fuck,” he mumbles against your shoulder, his lips brushing your skin, almost as if he's talking to himself. “I missed this. Missed you.”

His hips don’t stop, driving into you harder, your thighs shaking as you try to keep up, but your body is already on the edge. You’re clinging to him for dear life, your head falling back against his shoulder, mouth falling open as breathless moans slip out with every thrust.

“I’m sorry,” Jihoon suddenly murmurs, his voice softer now, tender. He keeps thrusting into you, but there’s an apology laced in every word, every snap of his hips. “I’m so fucking sorry… for everything.”

You don’t answer, can’t even if you wanted to. Your breath is caught in your throat, the only response you give is the way your body clings to his, melting further into his hold as his hands roam down your body.

He doesn’t expect you to answer. Maybe he doesn’t even need you to. He just keeps going, fucking into you like he’s trying to apologize through the way his body moves against yours. His grip loosens in your hair, his hand sliding down the curve of your waist, lower, until his fingers find the puffy bundle of nerves between your legs.

The second his fingers brush over your clit, your whole body tenses again, only to relax almost instantly as he starts rubbing teasing circles. You whimper, legs trembling, hardly competent to hold yourself up, and Jihoon groans into your skin, feeling the way you melt even more against him.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathes, his voice raspy in your ear. “Always take me so well… fuck… so tight, baby… you feel that? You’re clenching around me.”

You don’t say anything, just a soft gasp escapes your lips, your head falling back further onto his shoulder, exposing the column of your throat to him. His fingers quicken their pace, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, every brush of his thumb over your swollen clit making you cry out.

“I know I fucked up,” Jihoon whispers, his forehead still pressed to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. "But I can’t stop… I can’t stop thinking about you. About this. About how good you feel around me.”

Your chest heaves with each breath, your thighs trembling uncontrollably as his hand continues working you, his other arm wrapping around your waist to hold you tighter, anchoring you to him. His fingers press harder against your clit, drawing tight circles that make your whole body twitch, every nerve ending alive and buzzing.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxes, his voice dipping into that familiar, filthy tone, the one that drives you insane. “Cum for me… I know you’re close. I can feel it. You’re squeezing me so fucking tight.”

You’re so close, your vision blurring as the heat in your core builds higher. Your body’s completely given in to him, to the way he’s fucking you deep and hard while his fingers expertly play with your clit, not giving you a single moment of respite.

And then it hits, hard and fast. Your back arches, body tensing as the orgasm rips through you, ripple after ripple of pleasure crashing over you as your pussy clenches tight around him. Your hands reach back, desperately grabbing at anything—his hair, his arms—trying to ground yourself as you moan out his name, breathless and trembling.

Jihoon groans at the feeling, his cock throbbing inside you as your walls pulse around him. “Fuck… that’s it,” he rasps, his hand slowing its movements on your clit, letting you ride out your high. He’s still buried deep inside you, his cock twitching, and he watches in the mirror as your body shudders against his.

He doesn’t pull out. Instead, he shifts you forward, placing you on all fours again, his hands steadying you as he lines himself up once more. His hand slides down to your ass, pushing your bikini bottom further to the side so he can watch as your tight puffy walls flutter around him.

Without delay, he starts thrusting again, his pace slow but deep, watching as your body tenses, clenching around him every time he sinks in.

Jihoon lets out a series of the neediest, whiniest moans you've ever heard from him, and it hits you differently—vulnerable, like you’ve broken through every layer he keeps guarded.

Then he sinks in fully and stops.

You slouch forward, your whole body going limp as you brace yourself on your forearms. You feel him pressed against your back, the warmth of his skin sticking to yours as his breath hitches in your ear.

And then it fills you—heat as his cum spurts deep inside you. Hot, thick, and it has you crying out, your voice breaking as your body quakes beneath him. You can feel every pulse of his cock as he fills you up, making your insides feel impossibly full.

Your back trembles under his weight, every muscle in your body quivering as his release continues to flood you. Your pussy clenches around him involuntarily, trying to milk every last drop from him, and it only makes him groan louder.

“Shit,” Jihoon breathes, his voice a wrecked, breathy mess as he leans forward, his forehead pressing into the back of your neck. His hands grip your hips tightly, like he’s using you to anchor himself through the intensity of his orgasm. “Fuck… you feel s'good.”

Your head drops onto your forearm, unable to do anything but take it all in. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, a warm, slick sensation as it mixes with the water around your thighs. Your legs are shaking, your core aching, but you don’t want him to pull out, you want to stay like this, to feel him deep inside you just a little longer.

Jihoon’s breathing finally starts to slow, his body still pressed flush against yours as his arms snake around your waist, holding you tight. You hum softly in response, his cum continues to spill out, and you can feel every slow drip as your pussy flutters, trying to recover from the relentless pounding he just gave you.

He pulls back slightly, just enough to glance down at the sight of your trembling back. A soft smirk tugs at his lips as he watches how your body reacts to him, still sensitive, still on edge. “Look at you,” he whispers, his tone soft but teasing. “You’re still shaking. Did I fuck you that good?”

You don’t answer him; just let out a shaky breath. Your body is completely spent, and you can narrowly keep yourself upright. Jihoon chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to your damp skin before pulling out slowly, the loss of him leaving you feeling empty and aching. The last bit of his cum leaks out of you as he does, and he watches, fascinated, as it mixes with the water beneath you.

He moves to your side, pulling you into his chest, his hands rubbing gentle circles on your back as you both come down from the high.

Jihoon gently lifted you from the jacuzzi, his hands steady as he wrapped a robe around your body, drying you with care. His touch was soft, and the tension between you started to ease with each moment. He laid you down on the bed with tenderness, his eyes flickering with a mix of concern and regret.

As he stepped away to quickly clean himself up, you could feel the weight of his emotions lingering in the air. When he returned, Jihoon slid into bed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his warmth pressing against your skin. His embrace was tight but comforting, as though he was trying to hold on to more than just the moment.

"I'm sorry..." His voice was barely above a whisper, yet the sincerity in it was undeniable. He rested his forehead gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet space between you. "Please forgive me."

You could feel the vulnerability in his words, a side of Jihoon that he rarely showed.

You lay there in his arms, feeling the tension in his body slowly release as he held you close. His apology lingered in the air, filled with emotion you hadn’t heard from him before. For a moment, everything was quiet—the warmth of his skin, the sound of your breathing, and the beating of his heart against yours.

Jihoon pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness. His brows furrowed, and he seemed almost afraid of what you might say. You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek, the familiar sensation calming you both.

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me,” you whispered, the weight of the past argument starting to lift. “But it’s hard sometimes, Jihoon. You get so lost in your work…”

He nodded, the regret still heavy in his gaze. "I know. I promise I'll do better. I can't stand the thought of losing you, or pushing you away."

His words tugged at your heart, and you could see how much he meant it. There had always been that side of him—driven, focused, and dedicated—but sometimes it made him forget everything else. Still, here he was, trying, apologizing, and making the effort to put you first.

Without saying anything, you leaned in, closing the distance between you, your lips brushing his in a soft kiss. Jihoon sighed against your mouth, relief and gratitude flooding through him as he deepened the kiss, his arms tightening around you as though he couldn’t bear to let go.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads touched again, both of you breathing a little more steadily now.

“I forgive you,” you said softly. His eyes brightened at your words, and you felt the tension finally melt away completely. Jihoon smiled, a rare, gentle one that you didn’t see often enough, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you,” he whispered, pulling you closer again, as though he couldn’t get enough of having you in his arms.

Jihoon sighed deeply as he glanced around your living room, cluttered with bags and boxes of things you'd bought earlier that day. His eyes scanned the array of items before he asked, half-jokingly, “Is it even possible to empty my bank account in a single day?”

You smiled, shaking your head as you tried to ease his worry. “Don’t stress. I can sell them all on the marketplace. They’ll be gone in two days, tops. I promise.”

Jihoon raised an eyebrow and picked up one item that particularly caught his attention—a pair of leopard-printed underwear for men. He held it up with a bemused expression, “Leopard print... for me?”

You grinned mischievously, “Yup! Oh, and I got you the hot pink one, too. Thought you’d look great in it.”

Jihoon groaned, his face a mix of amusement and disbelief. “You know it was a joke when everyone said i wear these kind of panties, right? There’s no way I’d ever wear these.”

You crossed your arms, stepping closer with a playful smirk on your face. “Oh, I can make you wear them,” you teased, your tone light but daring.

Jihoon chuckled, shaking his head at your persistence. “Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe,” you replied, your grin widening. “I have my ways. Just wait until you see how good you look in them.”

He rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips. “You’re impossible.”

You stepped even closer, standing on your toes to whisper in his ear, “You’ll thank me later.”

Jihoon’s laughter filled the room as he pulled you into a hug, shaking his head. “You never give up, do you?”

“Never,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. "And trust me, you’ll look amazing in leopard print."

With a defeated sigh, Jihoon gave you one more playful glare, “Fine. But don’t think this means I’m wearing the hot pink ones too.”

“We’ll see about that,” you replied, your voice full of challenge and laughter as you leaned into his embrace.

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just-jordie-things · 2 months ago

Text

try to understand - inumaki toge

word count: 15k warnings: swearing, canon typical violence, some canon divergence (toge still has one arm, most characters are a teacher at jujutsu tech) unedited leave me alone maybe i'll do it later summary: being misunderstood isn't new for inumaki toge. but when the girl he'd had a crush on since he was a teenager makes a reappearance in his life, he realizes he'd really, really like for her to understand him. more info: miscommunication trope bcuz it's toge... he's just a pining romantic !! strangers -> slight enemies -> reluctant friends -> lovers. reader is a feelings-blind, emotionally constipated lil idiot <3

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

The Jujutsu Tech Exchange Event was stress inducing enough. Being evaluated by the higher ups and pitted against peers in a test of cursed ability and strength put a lot of pressure on those who participated.

Not that participation was ever a choice.

And to be honest, if it was a volunteer event, (y/n) would have some serious thinking to do.

It wasn’t that she doubted her abilities as a sorcerer. She had all the confidence in the world with her mastered ability, but sometimes the weight of being a jujutsu sorcerer was so heavy she couldn’t even be sure it was the right path for her.

But it had to be, right? With her skill being more akin to raw talent, sorcery coming as natural to her as breathing, it must be what she was meant for, it just made sense like that.

So most days, she woke up, shook off the empty feeling of longing on her mind, and got right to work. Whether it was training, studying, or a bright and early assignment, she stayed on top of things. She couldn’t let a feeling slow her down, and she didn’t.

Still, she wished she could feel what her peers do. Because whatever it was, Mai and Todo made it look pretty exhilarating.

Miwa, Mechamaru, Momo, and Noritoshi didn’t seem as interested in antagonizing the Tokyo students either, but they were content hanging out with the snacks they’d gotten from the vending machines without picking any fights. (y/n) sat with them, slowly sipping on the fruity drink she’d gotten for herself in the hopes that it would gear her up for the event.

“Looks like things are heating up” Miwa says, her neck craning to get a better glimpse at what was going on between the noisy students.�� It didn’t take a genius to know exactly what was going on, though.

Mai and Todo being their usual selves, that is. (y/n) didn’t bother trying to watch the scene unfold. Instead she just slumped further down into the grass. If only she could sink underneath it, too.

“Should we intervene?” Momo asks, but she doesn’t seem any more interested in (y/n). Laid back on her broom with her hands behind her head, she was the image of disinterest.

There wasn’t a chance (y/n) was getting involved in any of this. The only thing she had her sights set on was a solid nap after today’s event was over.

The event itself was the same as last year… and every year before that. A bunch of egotistical sorcerers running around in the woods, eac trying to exorcize more curses than the last. Of course, these last couple of times had more of an edge to them than usual. With Mai always gunning for her sister- literally- there was an added layer of bloodlust. And god forbid Todo found any of his opponents boring. He’d take all the ‘friendly’ out of friendly competition.

Perched in a spot she wouldn’t call great for hiding but she didn’t necessarily care, (y/n) had her chin in her hand to keep her head up. She’d fall asleep right there if she could. A part of her wished that Tokyo’s Special Grade Okkotsu Yuuta would show up, just to put this whole silly thing to an end as quickly as he did last year. Her peers weren’t so happy about him, or Rika, being involved in the Exchange Event, but that day he was (y/n’s) hero.

Lazily, her eyes swept over the area below her. No one had ventured this way since she’d climbed this tree, and if she was lucky, she might be able to sit here until the whole thing was over. She could only dream.

But all good things must come to an end, and soon enough the unmistakable sound of footsteps came running towards her tree. She perked up, just a little, and only because it was a surprise that whoever was rushing into her neck of the woods clearly wasn’t doing so with the intention of going unnoticed.

Swinging her legs a bit, (y/n) peeked down below her, trying to catch a good look at who it was. Surely not one of her peers, they had to be a Tokyo student.

Sure enough, an unfamiliar head of blonde hair came bounding into the clearing just below her tree. Of the Tokyo students she was familiar with- Maki, Panda, Fushiguro, and she supposed Yuuta- this wasn’t one of them. So she played it safe by remaining silent.

It crosses her mind that any of her fellow sorcerers would’ve taken this chance to go head to head with their abilities. They’d probably think she was wasting an opportunity by letting this boy run by without a fight. The thought doesn’t linger long. She’s not bothered much by what others might think of her. She knows that if she wanted to, she could take any sorcerer on in a fight. She just… didn’t care much to use her cursed technique where it wasn’t necessary.

At first all she can see is the blonde hair. He seems to hesitate once in the clearing, doing a quick sweep to make sure there wasn’t another sorcerer hiding amongst the brush. (y/n) holds her breath, but not once does he lift his head to check amongst the trees. She’s in the clear.

From the little bit that he looks around himself, she notices that his uniform includes a tall black collar which covers the bottom half of his face.

It doesn’t take much else to put two and two together. This was the Cursed Speech user she’d been warned about. From the Inumaki Clan. She holds her breath once more.

Mai had told her long winded and horrific things about the Inumaki Clan. Stories similar scary tales told around the campfire. Except they were all cramped up in the car that brought them to Tokyo. If it was a scare tactic to keep everyone away from Tokyo’s Cursed Speech user, (y/n) couldn’t say it was all that fear inducing.

That doesn’t mean she didn’t have her curiosities.

“Jump down”

It was an experience like no other. Any thought on her mind was erased. Her held breath was expelled just as quickly as she was releasing her secure hold on the branch, and before she knew it she was leaping right off, without a care for being noticed. Had she been less experienced in acrobatics, she might’ve sprained an ankle from the ten foot drop. Lucky her that a lifetime of training meant she landed as gracefully as she would’ve had she jumped on her own volition.

And it was quick too- just as soon as she’d realized the hold that Cursed Speech had on her, she was already free of it’s effects and was level headed again. At least enough to take a step backwards to put some distance between herself and the Tokyo student who’d caught her red handed.

However she quickly noticed that the Inumaki boy wasn’t in an offensive stance. He wasn’t really in any stance at all- he just stood there, watching her with seemingly the same amount of curiosity as she watched him.

(y/n) doesn’t mean any offense, but it’s hard not to stare. With a collar hiding the lower half of his face, his eyes felt all the more piercing. As if he had full access to her mind whether he spoke or not.

Using her own cursed technique crosses her mind, but it’s a distant thought, as if the competition at play isn’t happening at all.

She’s not sure she’s ever met anyone with such deep violet eyes before.

It’s ridiculous to wait for him to say something. But she stands there with more impatience than she’s ever felt before.

“Aren’t you going to knock me out or something?” She asks when she realizes he’s still just going to stand there.

Inumaki blinks, mabe pondering it for a moment, before he shrugs. (y/n) hardly knows what to do with that, and despite knowing he’s not going to give her any proper explanation, she still seems to wait for something more than a shrug.

So with a careful eye she steps back a little further, just to see if he’d make any move on removing her from the game. But no matter how many small steps she took, Inumaki didn’t move. He barely seemed to care. Didn’t he know he had the unbeatable technique? If he wanted to, he could put her to sleep right now.

With one last glance, (y/n) finally turned and booked it towards the thickest bundle of trees with the most coverage. It was clear that he wasn’t going to attack her, and it shouldn’t have surprised her that he didn’t seem to be following after her either. What was his deal? What was Tokyo’s strategy if it wasn’t wiping out the competition? She couldn’t make any sense of it, so for now she’d just have to find a new spot to hide out until the event was over. Or became more interesting.

It never really crossed her mind that she hadn’t tried to attack him, either.

The event did get more interesting. Although it wasn’t an exciting turn, (y/n) did find herself suddenly thrown into engaging herself.

How curses and curse users managed to get through the barrier around Jujutsu Tech, she didn’t understand. Critical thinking however was out the window as soon as that Special Grade Tree showed up.

With a less than formal introduction to Itadori, she found herself wrapped up with him and Todo. Perhaps the last place she wanted to be- she hated the dizzying effect of his cursed technique- but it was where she found herself. So she gave it her all, even when the turn for the worst took a detour towards chaos.

It was a strange feeling though, in the thick of the fight and expecting the worst, there was finally a spark within her. Something buzzing like static electricity was starting to take form. A small zap at first, an eagerness to play on the offense, and it seemed the more she chased that electric buzz, the more it grew. There was no denying that something had changed in her demeanor- the others could see it in the way she stopped pulling her punches. That’s not to mention the grin on her face growing more unhinged like a snarl with every move she made.

That little buzz had ignited into an all out fire, and soon she grew blind to everything but the fight.

Was this passion? Was this finally her eye opening moment to the pleasure of knowing and loving what she’s meant to do? The thoughts were muddled amongst the overwhelming urge to finish this off, to exorcize, to win. She’s never felt a desire this strong, never sought out a victory quite like this, and it was just barely out of reach, right at the tips of her fingers-

“Run away!”

And just as (y/n’s)cursed energy began to materialize around her hands, it was disappearing. Her body swiveled on it’s own accord, facing her in the other direction and pumping her legs into the motion of running all before she could process that this wasn’t her own doing. It was cursed speech. Again.

Her deranged grin fell into a sour grimace as she found herself full sprinting towards the other side of campus, other sorcerers in tow feeling just as useless as they were forced away from the fight.

What was once a burning passion turned into a bitter cold resentment. All she could think as she ran away from the fight was how dare Inumaki dismiss her? The bitterness in her mood only festered the more she grew to blame him for sending her away.

The next time their paths cross, she’d make sure to give him a piece of her mind.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 5 YEARS LATER ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

Coming back to Jujutsu Tech Tokyo wasn’t exactly a choice (y/n) would have made for herself, she could admit that.

She’d never wanted to become a teacher. The idea of continuing the cycle of turning young people into jujutsu sorcerers made her stomach knot. So no matter how persistent the Kyoto and Tokyo branches were- she wanted nothing to do with it. She’d continue her own work- privately- exorcizing curses for a living, but she swore she’d bite the curb before getting involved any further than that.

Curb, meet (y/n).

Standing outside the grand double doors that was the main entrance to the Tokyo school, she couldn’t help but let her shoulders sink. Since graduating a few years ago and entering the real world as an adult, (y/n) had spent most of her time alone. Living alone, working alone- she’d quickly learned it was the only way to be when you’re a jujutsu sorcerer. Letting people in was a risk, getting attached to someone was a risk, it felt like it was just easier to function as a singular unit. No one to look out for but herself.

The doors opened before she could even knock. Before she even gave turning around and disappearing a second thought.

“(y/l/n)!”

Itadori Yuji was just as she remembered him. So outgoing it would be inappropriate if he wasn’t completely genuine. With a large grin he ushered her inside, his mouth running a hundred miles a minute, going on about how long it had been, how she was doing, how he was doing, how happy he was to see her in Tokyo.

“I mean, it’s been what, five years? You look great! Here follow me, the others are waiting just down here…”

It’s only then that she finally finds her voice and cuts off his eager rambling.

“Others?” She repeats the word her mind had caught onto. “I thought this was a quick in and out sort of thing”

Yuji could be dense at times, but he didn’t miss the way her eyes narrowed on him with an accusatory glare behind them. So with a smile that seemed more sheepish than reassuring, he waved his hand in a dismissive manner and blew a raspberry. (y/n’s) expression didn’t waver.

“In and out, two weeks, it’s all relative, right?” He joked, and now she’s gaping at him with widened eyes that seemed all the more upset.

“Two weeks?” Her voice raises just a little, not enough to yell, but enough that her exasperation was evident. “Itadori, you said you just needed a bit of a fill in, two weeks is not a fill in!”

He’s walking faster down the hall, not that it was difficult for (y/n) to keep up with him. Two pairs of loafers clicking loudly and quickly against the tile, they almost looked like they were playing a game of chase.

“My hands are tied here, it’s really not up to-”

Just as Itadori lifts his hands in mock surrender, he’s frozen in place, a familiar energy coursing through his body that keeps him stuck like a statue.

(y/n) finally gets in front of him, with her hands encased in cursed energy and a scowl on her face.

“You’re being dodgy,” She states, eyeing the way he clearly tries to fight her cursed technique to no avail. “Why do you really need me here for two weeks?”

When she’d gotten a call from an unknown number a few days ago, she hadn’t expected to hear Itadori Yuji. She also hadn’t expected to hear him reaching out for help, backup as he called it. “It’ll be so quick, in and out!” He’d promised. “And then you can go home and I won’t bother you again!”

Why she’d actually agreed to fly out to Tokyo for this mystery backup, she wasn’t sure. Something must have clouded her judgment at that moment. Now she just feels like facepalming. How ridiculous was she for not asking more questions?

“Okay, okay,” Yuji huffs, clearly fighting hard against the stun of her cursed energy. He’d seen it in action once or twice, but that would have happened years ago, and he certainly never felt it’s effect on himself before.

Paralyze was an interesting technique, with the ability to stun anything she pleases, (y/n) could render her enemies frozen and helpless with a slight wave of her hand. Of course, it’s effects only last as long as she’s capable of holding them still. The stronger the opponent, the weaker her technique. So it doesn’t take long before Yuji’s squirming out of it’s hold, and soon (y/n) drops her technique completely.

“In case you haven’t noticed… we’re low on sorcerers around here,” He admits defeatedly. (y/n) stays quiet, she didn’t need to say that she’d obviously noticed the empty halls and echo of every noise they made. “Fushiguro’s busy with Zen’in politics, and ropes Maki into it more than she cares to be involved. Okkotsu’s never free from assignments, Kugisaki and I take everything he can’t… we’re stretched thin, you know?”

(y/n) nods in understanding, but she’s still waiting for him to explain the part where she comes in.

“And you need me to…? Take some exorcisms off your plate?” She tries to fill in the blank, but judging by the half wince Yuji gives her, she supposes her guess is wrong.

“Well… we actually need someone to help with the training aspect of-”

“Not teaching” Her voice is monotone as she hopes he’s not about to tell her she’s been called here to chaperone a bunch of kids.

“Teaching…” Yuji finishes slowly, drawing out the word as if it will make the blow less painful. It only makes it more painfully awkward.

“Itadori-!” Just as she starts to scold him, upset that she’s been lured out here under false pretenses, only to be asked to do the one thing she’d sworn she’d never do, they’re greeted by the rest of their company.

“(y/l/n)-san! Long time no see!”

Panda is as warm of a presence as ever, though (y/n) had only met him a handful of times, he greets her as if they were long time friends being reunited. For a brief moment, she actually relaxes.

And then she sees him.

Inumaki Toge somehow looks exactly the same, and like a completely different person from the last time she’d seen him. His hair was a little shaggier, still covering his forehead and just barely sweeping over the deep violet eyes that feel more familiar than they should. He still wears a collar with his uniform, a soft looking gray material that sits above the crisp black jacket that matches hers.

The more noticeable change, however, is his lack of a right arm. (y/n) tries not to stare directly at the space where his bicep ends and his forearm was supposed to begin, but she’s sure he notices the way her eyes dart to and from the missing limb, quickly looking back at his face again.

She’s not too thrilled about looking at him at all, so she directs her attention back towards Panda, clearing her throat of the lump that seemed to form in the matter of seconds.

“Hi,” She greets him, and only him it seems, before going right into the matter at hand. “Look, it’s not that I don’t want to help you out here-”

“I’m so glad you came!” Panda cheers like she’s doing him the favor of the century. “We really need all the help we can get, but I just want the best of the best!”

(y/n) swallows thickly before another lump can form.

“And I knew you’d help out. Besides, we can finally catch up! It’s been a long time” Panda continues chatting despite the clear discomfort on (y/n’s) face. She wonders if he’s trying to guilt her, or if he’s just so delusional in thinking this was some special reunion. She really hardly knew the Tokyo students back then.

Maki was probably the only one she’d be all that comfortable with, and she was nowhere to be found.

(y/n) shifted her weight back and forth, trying to find the right thing to say that would get her out of here as fast as possible.

“We can have some tea and chat about what your role will look like for the time being-”

“I can’t” She blurts out. Wrong thing to say. The hallway feels even more empty now, her short words echoing off the high ceilings, leaving no room for misinterpretation between the other three sorcerers.

“Huh?” Panda hums, his head tilted to the side in his confusion. “You can’t stay?”

“Look, I’m sorry and all, but when you called me I thought you needed help with a curse, okay? Not…” Her hands wave around vaguely gesturing to the space around them. “Playing teacher”

Inumaki snorts, and her eyes flicker towards him almost challengingly, as if asking what she’d said so wrong, but there was nothing but amusement in the part of his expression she could see, and she turns back towards Panda.

“I’m no use for that, alright?” She sighs. “I would’ve told you, had I known, but this one-” Her finger points towards Itadori, who suddenly looks like he’s been caught red handed, “Decided to be cryptic. So, Sorry, but no”

“I see,” Panda replied, sounding like some of his energy had been drained by her rejection. “Well, we could still have that tea?”

She should’ve turned down that offer as well, because tea led to chatting, and chatting led to bonding, and it wasn’t long before Panda was pushing his offer again.

“It’s just… the kids could really use some help with their training…” He says as he stares into the near empty cup in his paw. Somehow it looks even smaller when held by him. “They’re good kids, you know? Respectful, kind… it would be so simple… monitoring some cursed technique use, maybe going on some Grade Four assignments…”

(y/n) stares boredly at him as he goes on, describing the job like it’s the simplest position in the world. As if she couldn’t remember watching the stress of it affect her own teacher back in the day. Utahime’s frown lines were irreversible now. Although that could partially be due to her Tokyo counterpart…

Her tired gaze shifts towards Yuji, who’s holding his mug in both hands and grinning from ear to ear. Too hopeful for his own good. The corners of her lips twitch, an undeniable urge to reciprocate his boundless joy. She has to look away from him.

Inumaki appears less interested in the whole scheme. He’d leaned away from the table as soon as he’d finished his tea. With his hand planted behind him to keep him propped up, he’s the image of disinterest. He’s not even watching Panda’s attempts at swaying (y/n’s) opinion, his eyes wandering the common room’s wall. (y/n) finds herself also checking out the wall, trying to find whatever could hold his attention more than his friend’s useless rambling. Besides a few picture frames and worn wallpaper, she can’t find anything worth her attention.

But when she turns away from it, Inumaki must have also lost interest, because he was looking directly at her. She freezes up for a moment, a feeling eerily similar to her own cursed technique, before it creeps away and she finds herself averting her gaze as rapidly as she’s able.

Which lands her looking right back at Panda, who’s watching her with an open mouthed grin, clearly awaiting an answer to a question she hadn’t heard.

Shit, she hadn’t been listening?

“What did you say?” She asked, her eyebrows raising with a small hum at the end of her question.

“I’ll make sure that you aren’t bothered like this again,” Panda repeats his earlier statement. “If we weren’t at the end of our rope, I wouldn’t be asking like this now… but it seems this is just the position we’ve found ourselves in,” He sighs, furry shoulders slumping. “I’m just trying to do what I can to provide the best resources for these youngsters but I’m only one panda, and the world will always need sorcerers out there to-”

“Alright then”

In an instant, three pairs of eyes land on her, shock evident in all of them. She can’t pretend to be surprised by their astonishment, as she’d been pretty stubborn prior to now. She could say that she had a change of heart, that he swayed her with his kind words and positive outlook on guiding the students in his care.

But truthfully? She didn’t think she’d forgive herself if she made Panda cry.

“You- you mean it?” Panda asks, disbelief evident in his tone, and in the way his mouth stayed hanging open.

“Yes,” She can’t help a short laugh escaping through her exhale. “On the condition you don’t ask me any more favors” She adds, her finger in the air as she awaited Panda’s confirmation.

“Heard! Deal!” He hollered, his gape turning into a grin as his paw snatched up her hand and shook it wildly. “You don’t understand how much this means, (y/l/n)-san!”

“Oh, I’m starting to” She says with a wince of a smile as she pulls her hand away, flexing her sore fingers.

“I’ll show you where you’ll be staying!” Yuji leaps up from the ground and is at the door before (y/n) could even stand. “And I’ll let someone know you’ll need a few changes in uniform, too” He adds as an afterthought, noticing her already wrinkled jacket from the last hour of sitting hunched over on the ground for tea.

Briefly glancing between Panda and Inumaki, she realizes she’s left with no choice but to get up and follow after Yuji, who seemed to be treating the whole ordeal like it was Christmas day.

Whether or not she could feel Inumaki’s gaze following her as she stood and left, she didn’t make clear. Nonetheless his eyes lingered at the door even once she’d gone.

It’s not until Panda lets out a full belly laugh that the cursed speech user is pulled back into reality, and he furrows his brows at his old friend.

“Bonito flakes” He mutters with a shake of his head, before getting up and stretching his arm. Leaning all of his weight on it for a while had it feeling tender, but the scowl on his face was completely due to Panda.

“What?” Panda asks, his voice hitting a higher octave, knowing exactly why his friend was being snarky. “You stared at her the whole time, I’m not even sure you blinked!”

Toge rolls his eyes just as he rolls his shoulder to work out the soreness. So full of shit, he thinks, but he can’t help the growing smile behind his collar, as he can’t exactly deny the accusation.

But what can he say? He’d only met the girl for a short time, years ago, and it was enough to leave a lasting impression. At least enough that he was eager to meet her again- even if she didn’t share the thrill of her visit. He’d just have to find a way to help her enjoy her time here.

“Good luck getting her to actually enjoy it here,” Panda huffs, reading his mind as always. Toge gives him a curious look, waiting for any bright ideas. Unfortunately, Panda wasn’t exactly optimistic about (y/n’s) time here. “Maki calls her the off grid sorcerer for a reason,”

Toge wants to call him out on that, because sometimes Maki does saki bombs and likes to gossip, but for some reason, the words fail him.

“She’s dodged every request to teach, or even show up at any events held at the schools,” Panda explains. “Maki says she hates jujutsu sorcery”

That earns another eye roll from Toge. It just didn’t make sense, who could she hate jujutsu sorcery, when she was actively still a jujutsu sorcerer?

“Ikura” Toge dismisses him with a lame wave of his hand. It was stupid, and he wasn’t going to get into a stupid argument. Maybe it was silly to feel this defensive over a high school crush that probably barely remembered him, but if Panda was going to be this childish, then so could he.

“Fine, do your best,” Panda says, standing to follow his friend out of the room. “But I’d be impressed if you found a way to make her feel otherwise”

Challenge accepted, Toge thinks to himself as he meanders back towards his own quarters.

Step one would be getting to know her, properly, like he’d wanted to years ago. And step two would be finding a way to make her stay.

That couldn’t be too hard, could it?

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

(y/n) never forgot the revenge she swore she’d take on Inumaki had she ever seen his face again. She can’t ignore the small spike of bitterness in her chest whenever she sees him.

But she’s not sure what to do with that feeling now.

She’s standing in the classroom that supposedly belonged to Maki when she was around. It was empty, too early for any students to arrive just yet, but she’d wanted to get there early. That way she’d be settled in and ready for whatever this day was going to be. She’d been mulling over what she was supposed to do when the students got here for so long that she’s not sure when she’d wandered to the window and began to watch the scene below.

Outside, Inumaki is standing on the steps with three students- probably his students- and he’s making various rapid hand movements. Wait, was that sign language? She was on the second story, so even if she’d opened the window she probably wouldn’t have heard what they were talking about, but even without listening in, it seemed that the students understood their teacher perfectly.

She was certain he hadn’t used any sign language yesterday, she tried to recall the events of the day, but it was so fast paced and confusing from start to finish that she just couldn’t remember any communications from Inumaki’s end.

Besides a sarcastic chuckle.

“Are you (y/l/n)-senpai?”

She almost jumps as she turns around, not having heard the footsteps approaching the classroom.

There stood two students, a boy and a girl, each wearing the same uniform. The familiar black jackets and crisp slacks had her stomach knotting up with the realization of what she was doing here.

“Just (y/l/n),” She corrects, her voice sounding a bit strained. She clears her throat before any more weird sounds could be made. “I’m not your teacher, I’m just… filling in”

“So… like a substitute teacher?” The boy deadpans.

Great. He’s got an attitude. If only she were Mai, she’d have that snark smacked out of his tone with one, well, smack.

“Hardly. More of a supervisor,” (y/n) replies with a tight lipped smile. “So… what is it you’re working on right now?”

“Cursed techniques” The girl replies. Her voice is much softer than her snarky little friend. There’s a politeness in it that (y/n’s) grateful for. She’s not really looking for these kids to respect her, but if they were nice it’d definitely make the next couple weeks go by smoothly.

“Easy enough,” (y/n) shrugs. “Why don’t you explain your techniques to me and we’ll go from there”

As she should have expected, it was not easy enough. All those two did was argue, and when they weren’t arguing, they were struggling through their cursed techniques like a five year old getting their training wheels taken off. If that five year old was blind and toppled off the bike and broke both legs in the process. (y/n) found herself ready for a beer by lunchtime, and she wasn’t even sure if there was any alcohol on campus. She’d have to do a grocery run later for some necessities. If every day was going to be like this, she’d need a twenty-four pack.

She’d come out to the lawn for her lunch break, a blank notebook and pen in hand with the hopes of drawing up some kind of lesson plan. A grocery list seemed more like the pressing matter now, though.

It must just be a spacey day for her, because when Inumaki Toge approaches the table, she realizes she hadn’t noticed him until he was standing right there before her. His hand is in his pocket, and despite his face being half covered, she can tell he’s wearing a kind look.

Not knowing how she felt about him yet, she shifts in her seat on the bench. She’s sure it’s rude to stare, and it’s dumb to expect him to explain what he wanted, but she’s not sure what to say either.

“Mustard leaf?”

Huh?

Her confusion must’ve been evident, because Inumaki pulls his hand out of his pocket and points at her notebook and pen.

“Oh,” She mumbles absentmindedly, before passing the pen and paper to him. “Is that how you ask for things?”

She cringes at her own question, and if she wasn’t already embarrassed she would have smacked her hand to her head, too. Inumaki doesn’t seem bothered though, as he just nods his head and begins to write in her notebook.

When he hands it back to her he keeps hold of her pen. Was this his way of trying to have a conversation? This time she’s not stupid enough to actually ask that, but her curiosity gets the best of her as she grabs the notebook to read what he wrote quickly.

Hi.

Her eyes flicker between the page and him a few times, disbelief turning her lips into a small smile.

“Hi…” She replies, quieter than intended.

Inumaki chuckles, and beckons her to pass the notebook back to him. (y/n) has a feeling the rest of her lunch hour would look like this. This time she watches him as he scrawls on the page again, and this time it seems he’s writing more than two letters.

With his attention on his writing, she doesn’t feel so worried about staring at his bright violet eyes. The last time she’d really gotten a good look at them was five years ago, and she was sure she’d never seen anyone with eyes quite like his. That still holds true.

Inumaki passes the notebook back again.

Are you having a good first day?

She snorts, and Inumaki takes that to mean it wasn’t a great start.

“I couldn’t have been more clear that I wasn’t meant to be a teacher,” (y/n) shakes her head, and leans back a bit into the bench. Inumaki’s eyes shift to the space next to her, and she finds herself shifting to make room for him to sit. He doesn’t need a verbal offer in order to sit beside her. “I don’t understand how anyone could enjoy this”

Inumaki holds his hand out for the notebook once more, and (y/n) passes it to him. She wonders if he ever got tired of communicating like this. But just as the question passes her mind, she’s sure he’s grown used to the exhaustion of living this way long ago. So she begins to wonder when he began to accept it. As he writes, she realizes she actually has a lot of curiosities surrounding him.

The old bitterness begins to chip away the more she lets her mind wander. Maybe that bitterness was childish and stupid, anyways. Or, maybe it was just that she was a child when that grudge had taken form.

Toge passes her the notebook again. She can’t see that he’s smiling, but there’s crinkles at the corners of his eyes that tell her he must be.

Have you tried drinking on the job?

(y/n) glances between the note and Toge, who seems to be barely holding it together behind his mask. It’s not until she lets out the faintest of laughs that he begins to cackle, shaking his head asif to say ‘I’m just kidding!’ as though she couldn’t have put that together.

Maybe Inumaki Toge wasn’t at all who she thought he was.

It sort of turned out that she hadn’t known him at all.

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It didn’t take long for a little routine to be established. It seemed to have happened without anyone’s say in it. (y/n) would find a spot for lunch and Inumaki just seemed to gravitate towards that spot. They’d eat their lunches and grade papers together while passing a notebook back and forth for communication, and it just seemed to… work.

Some days (y/n) would even write her responses underneath his own written words. Sometimes it just seemed like the fair thing to do, but she couldn’t deny, the peace and quiet could be nice.

Toge has to tap the end of his pencil against the table a few times to get (y/n) to snap out of her brain fog and finally notice the note he’d written her. She gives him an apologetic look once consciousness had brightened her eyes again, before directing her attention to the notebook.

Toge smiles to himself, already going back to the paper he was grading.

I’ve got an assignment in Yokohama later. Just a Grade Two though. Want to come with? :)

(y/n’s) brow lifts in his direction, but he’s too busy reading one of his students’ work to notice. Her eyes only liner for a few extra seconds before she makes a hum to get his attention. He mimics the hum.

“All this work aging you faster? Is that what you’re telling me?” She asks. Her finer absentmindedly taps at his neat handwriting. “Can’t handle assignments alone anymore?”

Inumaki scoffs, his eyes briefly flickering away from his work, just long enough to show his lack of amusement with her dry form of teasing. He doesn’t get much more done before he’s bringing their talking notebook back to his side of the table and writing in it again. (y/n) doesn’t bother to go back to her own work. After five days of this little routine she’s come to realize this block of time in her day wasn’t meant for getting work done. It was meant for…

She gets the feeling Inumaki’s smiling to himself under his collar.

… whatever this was.

He looks up at her when he’s finished, catching her eyes already on him, and he’s sure that she blushes just a little bit, but any trace of it is gone when she reaches over for the notebook and lifts it to read. A strategic choice to cover the lower half of her face. Toge tries not to feel too defeated, it’s only fair after all.

I meant to hang out, dummy. I don’t mean to brag you’d only slow me down out there. But I do know a great tea shop.

She’s glad that the notebook hides her face, because she can’t have him seeing how quickly a few words can make her smile. Only of course because she doesn’t want him getting the wrong idea.

There’s been a few occurrences of that feeling in the past couple days of spending her lunch breaks with Inumaki. An odd feeling, like there’s a lump in her throat, but her heartbeat starts to get ahead of itself. It’s like adrenaline, but seemingly without a cause. So far she’d been able to brush the feeling off, trying not to think too much of it.

“You would be grateful if you had a partner like me out there,” She says matter of factly, before dropping the notebook back on the table. “Sending you on a Grade Two mission, you almost have to wonder if the higher ups think you’re slow enough on your own?”

That earns her another scoff, this time accompanied by an even longer blank stare. She has to bite back her smile before it can grow too wide, but she can’t help a little laugh at his uninterested expression. For as much of a jokester as Inumaki was, he sure didn’t react when he was the one being teased.

“Yeah yeah, I hear you,” (y/n) huffs, finally looking back at her stack of papers that she should’ve graded by now. “Tea does sound good. Let me know when you’re headed out later”

Again, she ignores the fluttery feeling when they swap phones to exchange numbers so they could form a plan later. It was unrelated, she’s sure. But she’s still not so sure what that feeling was all about to begin with.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

There was a skip to Inumaki’s step that couldn’t go unnoticed, especially not by his colleagues, who happened to watch him heading out to the courtyard and decided to involve themselves without even a single word shared.

“I’ve never seen you off to a mission so jazzed!” Itadori practically sings, his grin wide, his eyebrows dancing, oh, he’s so onto him.

“Bonito flakes”

“So you didn’t brush your hair before going on an assignment?” Panda accuses, but his paw gets swatted away before he can run his hand through the luscious blonde locks of perfectly clean and dried hair.

No one showers before an assignment. What’s the point?

“Bonito flakes!” Toge repeats himself a little louder this time, his eyes darting around the area to be sure no one else was around to hear this interaction.

This doesn’t go unseen by his friends- who seem extra persistent on bothering him today.

“Oh wow! So it’s like a… date assignment?” Itadori asks. He makes the extra effort to also ensure no one else was lingering around, his grin only growing as he checks over both shoulders before lowering his voice. “That sounds hot, good for you man”

Toge rolls his eyes, then shakes his head.

“What are you up to then?” Panda asks.

“It’s not a date?” Itadori’s grin falls into a frown.

Toge’s hand moves in a swift motion, from a fist with his thumb jutted out to his palm up so quick if you’d blink you would’ve missed it. Somehow he’d managed to pour as much attitude into his signed question of ‘how?’ in one little hand movement as possible. It’s clear it works too, because Panda winces and Itadori begins to scratch the back of his neck.

Sure, Inumaki had been excited to spend some time with (y/n) away from the school. Maybe he had taken a shower before his assignment, so what? It was normal to want to be presentable right? He just wanted to be decent company…

“Oh, you’ve got it bad!” Panda hollers, not seeming to care that his voice booms and echos off the high ceiling, likely bouncing down all the corridors for anyone to hear.

Today, Toge is grateful that jujutsu society is dying.

“Bonito flakes!” He hisses, smacking his bear friend as hard as he could. It wasn’t hard enough, as the belting laughter was even louder than his voice.

“Not too hard to find you guys, huh?”

Toge doesn’t hide the fact that he nearly leaps out of his skin as he swivels around to see (y/n) standing there, an amused look on her face as she eyes the laughing pair, before turning towards the cursed speech user with a more curious expression. Being a sorcerer of his caliber, she was surprised she was able to startle him at all. But it’s clear when his eyes first land on her, it’s as if he’s seen a ghost.

He’s quick to calm down, relaxation returning to his shoulders and the only tension remaining in his body coming from the worry that his so called friends were going to say something stupid like-

“Wow you’re in uniform! Haven’t seen Toge take up a partner in a while. Unless Yuuta’s around,” Panda says, and (y/n) merely shrugs, looking over her usual attire. “You’re probably a better date than Yuuta, though”

“Ikura” Toge hisses, side eyeing his oldest friend with a look in his eye warning him that his next words wouldn’t be rice ball ingredients.

“I think Yuuta would be a good date” Yuji said thoughtfully, eyes wandering about as though he were really considering the date-ability of the older sorcerer.

It does the trick in moving the group’s attention away from the previous awkward thing, this one being far more enticing to latch onto, and while normally Toge would participate in the goofing off, at the moment he can only feel relief that (y/n) hadn’t seemed to dwell on the ‘date’ comment.

“He’d be a good date if he could sit down for long enough to actually date” Panda replies, and it’s not long before he and Yuji have launched themselves into an argument about it.

In the heat of the fight, (y/n’s) eyes catch Toge’s, and it only takes one motion of her head before they’re both speeding out of there.

“I didn’t realize they were crushing on Okkotsu so hard,” She’s the first to speak, once they’re far enough away there’s no chance of anyone overhearing. “If I knew him better I would’ve given my two cents” She added in a near mutter, clearly meant for her own amusement under her breath, but Toge heard and asked about it anyways.

“Mustard leaf?”

“Like I said, I don’t really know the guy-” She started to protest, but Toge clearly had invested an interest in her opinion.

“Mustard leaf mustard leaf mustard leaf-”

“Alright!” She has to shout over his incessant pestering. “He seems like a good guy and all but he’s not… my preference in company. Is that good enough?”

His collar is zipped up as per usual, but his cheeky grin seems to permeate through it anyways. (y/n) has to roll her eyes to remind him just how ridiculous of a conversation this was. Reiterating the fact that she’d barely met Okkotsu Yuuta once didn’t seem to do the trick in explaining that she couldn’t exactly form an opinion on him when they hadn’t even been introduced to one another, merely crossed paths back in the day when the end of the world seemed to closing in.

“Salmon cod roe”

But the world hadn’t ended. And now somehow, she found herself here. Teaching in Tokyo, and keeping the company of a cursed speech user from the notorious Inumaki Clan. And… she enjoyed herself.

She hoped it didn’t show too much, keeping her expression neutral on the ride to Yokohama as Toge scrolled through the case file of his assignment. Occasionally he’d tilt his phone in her direction so she could read up on it as well, sometimes she’d give him her thoughts on it, but the few words that came out were nothing compared to the calculations she was making behind her eyes. He could tell just from the look in her eyes that she had more plots in her mind than the small things she shared.

Toge wondered if she was always silent when she schemed, or if this was her attempt at not overstepping a non-existent boundary. Truthfully, he would’ve loved to hear her thoughts on how best to exorcize this curse. He would have found a way to ask her, but he didn’t want all of their conversation tonight to revolve around work. Jujutsu, curses, and everything in between was on the back burner for now. Or at least, once he wrapped up this assignment.

And as expected, the assignment took less time than the time they spent traveling. (y/n) barely got a good look at the Grade Two before it was told to drop dead and- well, it dropped dead. She didn’t exactly expect Inumaki to need any assistance, he’d made it pretty clear that her company wasn’t needed on the assignment. However, seeing him in action up close was…

It’s just that she’d somehow let herself forget just how powerful the Inumaki Clan was. Maybe she’d separated Toge from the rest of the clan in her mind, but watching him exorcize a curse and then zip up his collar again in the matter of a minute and a half was…

She has to clear her throat and make herself appear busy checking the content of her purse as they leave the site. The heart of Yokohama, and the tea shop, was a little bit of a walk. Luckily Inumaki was busy gulping down two- no, three- bottles of cough medicine. By the time the third is gulped down, (y/n) finds her voice. Her thoughts, however, are still a bit muddled.

“Do you want to stop for another?” She asks, gesturing to the empty mini bottle he’d just shoved into his pocket. “Looks like there’s a convenience store right here”

His eyes follow her gaze, but there’s an uncertainty in them as he seemingly ignores the offer.

“What?” (y/n) frowns as they grow nearer to the store without planning on stopping in. “Clearly your throat hurts, since you’re throwing back that medicine like it’s tequila”

That earns her a curious look, a raised eyebrow questioning her choice of drink. But this time, it’s her turn to ignore him.

“C’mon, we’ll be quick” She says, turning to head into the store with or without him.

Toge huffs, but finds his feet dragging behind her path anyways.

(y/n) hovers around as Toge picks up two more bottles of cough syrup. She makes a face when he chooses bubblegum, her nose wrinkling at the all-too childish choice. Toge’s question of her disgust doesn’t need to be voiced with a rice ball ingredient.

“Bubblegum?” She asked, eyes locking on the medicine in his hand before looking up at him again. “Are you five?”

His eyes roll, but it’s quick enough that he’s still able to catch the smile she’s trying to bite back.

She might not have his little language perfectly translated in her mind, but she has a pretty good feeling that he’s cursing her out with a few muttered ikuras under his breath. She barely hides her laughter as she follows him to the counter.

It’s hard not to notice the way the clerk stares. She knows they’re not trying to be rude, they are an odd pair at the counter. In matching black uniforms and three arms between them- not to mention Toge’s in a collar that makes him look like he could be casing the joint- but still, something unsettles her the longer the girl on the other side of the counter stares.

Knowing that saying something about the staring would make things worse, she decides to keep her mouth shut as Toge exchanges the money for his medicine. But that doesn’t mean she’s not making a perfectly clear point by staring down the cashier with an intensity she’s only ever felt while staring a curse straight in it’s soulless eyes. She gets a much more pleasing reaction from the non-sorcerer though. As soon as their eyes cross paths, they’re much quicker in retrieving Toge’s change and receipt. (y/n) can’t help the smug smile on her face once they’re able to turn and leave the store, the clerk barely able to mumble out a ‘have a good night’.

Toge may have had a small bit of tunnel vision opening up his medicine and chugging down the relieving, bubblegum tasting fluid. But he was a trained jujutsu sorcerer, he could tell when there was suspicious activity in his peripherals. And (y/n’s) fixed gaze on the corner store’s window was rather odd.

He gives her a look, but she’s more focused than he had been, and it takes a small nudge to her elbow to disconnect her hunter’s glare.

“What?” She asks, innocent and curious.

With his collar unzipped from his earlier medicine-chugging, she can see the awkward smile he wears as he questions her silently. She knows what he’s trying to ask, but she feigns confusion and tries to brush off the moment. Inumaki lets her, but only on the condition that she seems to give him the attention she’d previously fixed on the store.

With his throat feeling healed and the pleasantness of bubblegum replacing the metallic taste of blood on his tongue, Toge continues on their walk towards the tea shop he’d been looking forward to all day. One cup of tea from there would do better work than five bottles of cough syrup- no matter the delicious pink flavor.

(y/n) tries to put the experience at the corner store behind her as they walk in a comfortable silence. It wasn’t her place to take offense from the staring anyways, she’s sure Inumaki’s been on the receiving end of odd looks and lingering eyes his whole life.

Still, it makes her uneasy to think about him being treated differently than anyone else. It wasn’t fair.

Wanting to put an end to their silence, Inumaki pulls out his phone and starts typing.

[inumaki toge]: the least you could do is be the chatty one btw

(y/n) feels the buzz of a notification in her pocket, but she pays it no mind at all. It takes a laugh and a nudge from Inumaki for her to realize he’s the one texting her, and she laughs awkwardly with him as she pulls her phone out.

They continue to text rapidly back and forth as they walk.

[y/n]: it’s rude to text when you have company btw

[inumaki toge]: would u rather i just curse u then

[y/n]: would U rather i just DIE then ??

[inumaki toge]: ur just grouchy that u didn’t get to exorcize that curse :p

She looks up at him then, fixing him a glare that just couldn’t have been conveyed the same way from an emoji. He stares back at her for a minute, a smile that was a little too cocky on his face. Her hard set eyes wander his face for a moment, she’d still never gotten used to seeing those markings on display, but the furrow in her brow remained.

He turns away to type again, and seconds later her phone vibrates in her hands.

[inumaki toge]: i looked pretty cool tho didn’t i? was i impressive? i’m thinking about being the first jujutsu influencer.

She barks out a laugh so unexpected that they both share the same look of surprise on their faces. A softer, more bashful laugh comes out at her as she nods her head in confirmation.

“Yeah, Inumaki. You looked very cool” Even the word comes out like it’s an immature compliment, but a compliment nonetheless. He beams back at her.

[inumaki toge]: just toge.

“Okay” (y/n) nods at her phone, her lips moving like she’s going to call him by his preferred name, but no sound comes out, and she finds herself closing her mouth just as quickly.

[inumaki toge]: otherwise i’ll feel like ur teacher. and that’s weird.

“Well, to be fair, you’re sort of my teacher,” She says, turning away from her phone to speak directly to him. “You know, you’ve taught me how to teach,” She clarifies. With an absent mind she tucks her phone back into her pocket. “I know I agreed to it and all, but I probably would’ve walked out a few days ago if it weren’t for you. I definitely don’t have the patience for this job- or any qualifications, actually,”

Toge snorts and shakes his head with his disbelief in her. She might not have sought out this job, but she didn’t have to be so hard on herself.

“Seriously, I think my students would have killed each other if it weren’t for your guidance. Now they actually… almost tolerate each other. It’s a miracle, really”

Inumaki types on his phone again.

[inumaki toge]: don’t give us too much credit. that would’ve happened eventually

“You think?” (y/n) scoffs, recalling how her pair of students were at each other’s throats when she met them.

[inumaki toge]: ofc. they’re crazy about each other XD

“What!?” (y/n) shrieks as her eyes scan over his text a few more times before turning to him. “Did you get cursed back there or something?” She accuses, a wild look in her eye and a grin of disbelief on her lips. But a smile nonetheless, Toge returns it. “They can’t stand each other!”

He shrugs a shoulder, his smile softening with his gaze as he watches her struggle to understand where he was coming from.

“You know I don’t let them spar with each other right? They’re too rough! They’ll hurt each other more than they could get hurt out on an assignment”

Toge chuckles, his teeth showing through his grin as he shakes his head at her before sending another message. His amusement practically glowed through his features, so much so (y/n) couldn’t tear her eyes away from him while he was texting.

[inumaki toge]: sounds like rising tension to me~

[inumaki toge]: fr tho they had a thing for each other before you took over for fushiguro. they’re at each other’s throats 24hrs a day but only cuz they got it bad.

“Got it bad?” (y/n) repeats in a mumble to herself. She gives him a deadpan look, silently telling him she thought he was an insane person, but Toge only grins back at her.

“Salmon cod roe” He shrugs again, but before the conversation could go any further, he’s pointing to their destination and they’re crossing the street.

As they enter the tea shop, (y/n) makes a mental note not to forget what he’d said. Maybe she would feel differently when she saw her students tomorrow. Inumaki- Toge- had known them longer than her, maybe he was onto something.

It’s pretty quiet inside, only a few other people sitting around the small cafe. Some with company, talking quietly so as not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere for the others dining alone, accompanied only by a book or their studies. The quietness, surprisingly, isn’t unsettling to (y/n). She actually smiles contentedly as they find a two-seated table near the window. There’s menus already placed at the table, although small, their detailing is adorable. (y/n’s) compelled to pick one up and scan over it, despite having known exactly what she was going to order before walking in.

Toge lifts the other menu off the table, just enough to appear as though he was giving it a glance, but anyone paying attention would have seen that he hadn’t taken his eyes off of his company since they’d sat down.

“I think I’ll just get what I- what?”

(y/n) starts to speak, but when she lifts her gaze from the paper she finds Toge staring at her so blatantly she can’t be bothered to finish her thought. Her voice softens upon catching his eyes, suddenly nervous, although she can’t explain why, perhaps she’d just worried that she’d disturbed the quiet peace of the shop.

Toge shakes his head, assuring her there was nothing on his mind, and while she relaxes some knowing that he wasn’t trying to silently warn her about some unknown rule of speaking, her heart had yet to stop skipping every other beat as she waits for the rest of the explanation as to why he’d been staring.

He opens his mouth, and for a second the both of them almost forget. Forget that he’s not going to say something of substance, something real. They both wait for that split second for him to say what’s on his mind. And they share a sheepish smile when he closes his mouth again, biting his lip before the smile could do a 180 and kill the vibe.

(y/n) winces for him when his eyes return to the menu, and she watches his hand reach for the zipper to his collar. She’s compelled to tell him to leave it open- although she doesn’t find the courage for such words before a waitress strolls by for their order.

Toge points to the tea he wants on the menu, and she finds herself following suit when it’s her turn to order. She can feel his eyes on her, wide with surprise as she wordlessly places her order, but once the waitress disappears, it’s silent between them again.

She struggles to look at him, not because she doesn’t want to, but because she can’t help herself from doing so. He’d closed his collar only halfway, barely enough to cover the markings on his face, and yet enough to reveal whenever he smiled or winced or frowned. Her eyes keep wandering around the room before going back to him, again and again, each time looking somewhere new. The smallest peek of black ink near his mouth, the wisps of blonde hair that fell at the tips of his ears, the violet eyes that seemed to hold all the words his mouth couldn’t say. Maybe that’s why it was so hard to look at him- it was the intensity.

“You’re being really quiet” She says after a few minutes of looking and looking away. Toge’s stunned for a moment, before a laugh bursts through at the odd comment.

The corner of her lips twitch momentarily, proud of her attempt to make him laugh working.

He pulls his phone out, laying it on the table to type easier with one hand, poking about on the screen like a child learning how to use a keyboard. (y/n) pulls her own phone out as she awaits his message, but she keeps her attention on him as she does. With his focus on the screen, there’s less of an intensity for her to stare into.

[inumaki toge]: found this place on an assignment here last year. the tea is magic. better than rct

“That so?” (y/n) hums as she’s typing back a response. Toge hums in confirmation. She doesn’t realize that as she types, he keeps his attention on her, just as she’d done for him.

[y/n]: i’ve ordered the same thing since i was a kid, so hopefully it doesn’t disappoint

[inumaki toge]: that’s a lot of pressure to put on tea

[y/n]: no, the pressure is all on you

[inumaki toge]: so it’s my fault if you don’t like the same cup of tea you’ve had all your life?

“Mhm” (y/n) hums, lifting her head from the screen to catch his reaction, only again to find him already staring at her.

The amused smirk she’d been wearing as they texted back and forth faltered, replaced by a soft surprise that Toge grew quite fond of seeing on her, even for a moment. He doesn’t think about how his gaze is so obviously focused on her lips, because he doesn’t really think about anything at all. With a blank mind he’s able to better appreciate her beauty.

(y/n’s) not sure what the look on his face means, she’s not able to read it as well as she’s typically able, and the realization makes her nervous again. She can feel warmth spreading in her cheeks, and a similar feeling spiking in her chest. What was that?

Toge’s eyes shift up to hers, and he lets himself enjoy the way she sits there with her own eyes so wide he knows she’s waiting for him to explain the long silent stare. Momentarily, he’s grateful for an ability such as his. He doesn’t have to deliver an explanation in a timely manner, if at all. He could keep on staring, and try his best to communicate his train of thought with his eyes alone.

“So… how much sign language do you know?” (y/n) asked, her voice quieter than she intended it to be.

It can’t be explained, but everything suddenly feels more intimate now. Like if she were to speak in a volume above a whisper, the rest of the world would come back into view. But the rest of the world remains a watercolor background, and all she knows is sitting at this table.

Toge flattens his hand and shakes it back and forth, indicating a little, before he quickly types at his phone.

[inumaki toge]: learning a little here and there. for the kids really. panda is trying too.

(y/n) nods. “Is there anything worth teaching?”

Toge smiles, and for a few minutes he shows her a few motions for her to repeat before he texts her their meaning. She gets the basics down pretty easy, such as introductions and greetings. He doesn’t know how much he should teach her, but soon enough the waitress is returning with their tea and the topic moves on to something new again anyways.

He waits to take a sip of his, too curious to watch (y/n’s) first reaction to her own drink.

There’s something so plainly pretty about the picture before him that if it wouldn’t be odd, he would raise his phone and snap the picture to retain it’s memory in a physical form. The way she captivates his entire attention has him feeling like he’s seventeen again. Some of it might have to do with the warm lighting, the quiet atmosphere, but his thoughts are on such a simple track of adoration that he doesn’t think too much about how pretty her hands look gently wrapped around the mug- just that they are pretty.

She’s pretty.

And he’s… a goner.

She’s smiling when she lowers her drink after a sip, and Toge releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“It’s good,” She voices her opinion after a moment, her hands still wrapped around the mug even as she rests it on the table. “Definitely worth the trip out here. Even if I didn’t get to have any of the fun”

The movement of Toge’s hand is quick, as he gestures downward before tapping his nose and repeating the same motion. He does it a second time just for the emphasis of trying to communicate something to her. It takes her a moment to understand, but despite having a very minimal understanding of sign language, she comes to her conclusion quicker than he would have thought.

“Fun,” She repeats the motion he’d made, two fingers tapping her nose before bringing her hand downwards towards the table. Toge nods in affirmation, a smile breaking across his face at her quick wit. “This is fun?” She makes her guess at what he’d said, and his smile only widens as he nods again. “This is fun,” The second time she repeated it was to reaffirm the motion in her mind, hoping a mental note would help her remember the small bit of signing for later.

Then, for a third time, she quietly repeats “This is fun”, and Toge seems to understand that she was agreeing with his statement. This is fun. They’re having fun. Together. Like this.

It’s quiet between them as they sip their tea, but it’s not an awkward silence. It’s comfortable, sitting together in the quaint shop and enjoying their warm drinks. Time seems to fly by even without conversation, and they find themselves paying and leaving before they know it.

There seems to be no rush on their walk to the train station. Neither of them even bother to check the schedule on the way. Tokyo would be there no matter what time they returned, they were sure.

The silence lingers for a bit longer, but eventually Toge can’t help but pull out his phone and strike up a conversation.

[inumaki toge]: maybe next time i’ll let you do the exorcizing

(y/n) shoots him a look when she reads his text, her brow raised but the rest of her face so expressionless it’s hard for him to get a read on what she’s thinking. He’s starting to get the feeling that she likes it that way.

[y/n]: next time?

He doesn’t need to text her when he can just nod his head. Her lips twitch, but she manages to keep them in a straight enough line that he still can’t tell what she’s thinking about. Nonetheless, he beams back at her, and he holds her stare for a moment longer than he should have before he’s texting her again.

[inumaki toge]: you seem thrilled

(y/n) lets out a dry laugh at the equally dry message.

“I’m only around a couple more days,” She replies, and the disappointment Toge feels is immediate and obvious in the way he deflates. Still, she continues to explain, “Tokyo might have a curse issue, but it can’t be so bad they have to send their best and brightest every night, hm?”

There’s hesitation in his eyes as he thinks about what he should type out next. (y/n’s) grown rather patient with the way he communicates, so she doesn’t seem to realize that his silence isn’t due to the limitations of Cursed Speech.

Even once he begins typing, his thumb is slow.

[inumaki toge]: you’d be surprised. tokyo might need a little extra help

He glances over at her as she reads his message, and his thumb begins to type out a second message before she could reply first.

[inumaki toge]: you could always stay a little longer

Again, he watches her as she watches her screen. Where her thumbs had previously hovered over her keyboard, she moves them away now. Leaving no intention of texting back a response. Toge feels the pace of his heart begin to slow as the organ plummets to his stomach. Suddenly filled with dread, he fixates his stare on the station ahead of them. He thinks if he were to look at her now, when she’s so clearly rejected the idea, that she would see the disappointment on his face.

Without a word or text shared, the pair get inside and track down the evening schedule. Toge’s pretty sure that there’s a faster pace to her steps than before. The dread only worsens at the thought that suddenly she’s in a rush just to wait for a train.

Once they’re stopped again, (y/n) lets out a sigh and turns towards him. He waits for her to begin her explanation, her rejection, but it takes a few more seconds before she actually voices her thoughts.

“It’s not a surprise… right?” Is the first thing she slowly says, and Toge can’t say he understands what she means. He can’t really say anything, but this is different. “I mean, I agreed to two weeks, you were there,”

His brows furrowed into a bored look, and she winced.

“And I told you I wasn’t cut out for the whole teaching thing, I’ve barely been getting by- and I might hate it sometimes but I do miss assignments you know”

In a stressed, jerky movement, Toge raises his phone and shakes it, reminding her of the offer he’d just given her. (y/n) frowns, and he groans as he types a quick text.

[inumaki toge]: if you really wanted, you could take assignments here

He can tell it doesn’t make a difference when her face doesn’t change upon reading it. He huffs again, a muttered “Ikura” under his breath, which she hears and bristles up to right away.

“Hey,” The offense in her tone is clear, and Toge’s partially surprised she even understood what he meant. “I don’t understand why you’re getting upset, I’ve been clear from the minute I got here that I’d be leaving when the time was up. And time’s up”

With a glare that he can’t help, Toge texts her again.

[inumaki toge]: you’re not leaving. you’re running away

“I am not!” She argues, her voice raising more than she wanted it to. A few other people waiting for the train send the pair a dirty look for disrupting the peace and quiet of an empty train station, but she pays them no mind as she continues arguing. “I’m going home. I don’t live here and I don’t want to live here- I didn’t want to be here to begin with, remember?”

[inumaki toge]: but then things changed.

“No, they didn’t” (y/n) replies, focusing on her screen.

[inumaki toge]: yes they did and you know it

“That doesn’t even matter. I was never going to stay”

[inumaki toge]: it does matter. it matters because you don’t really want to leave, and i really don’t want you to go.

Her head darts upward and she stares at him now, the weight of the confession hitting her harder than either of them would have thought. Her typical neutral expression is washed away by something else- something serious, and almost concerned. Her brows are knitted together as she stares at him as if she’s waiting for him to speak. Eyes round and lips parted around words that aren’t coming to her fast enough, they stand silently and stare at each other.

Before the right thing to say could come to her, the ring signaling the train was pulling in began to go off, and shortly after the train entered the station. The expected chaos of it all- the screech of metal on metal, the sudden gust of air whipping around hair and clothes- it feels nonexistent as they stand there together.

Nothing happens. The train comes to a stop, the doors open, and Toge tilts his head to beckon her to follow him onto the car. (y/n) follows a few paces behind. An indescribable but momentary paralyzing sensation buzzing through her legs as she forces them to move.

They take their seats, phones in hand but no messages being typed between them. (y/n’s) leg begins to bounce the longer Toge stares out the window without a thought to share.

She hates the anxious feeling that settles under her skin the longer they sit like this.

“You know…” Her voice is a mumble when she finds the courage to speak, ten minutes into their ride. “It’s not like I hated my time here,”

It does the trick in getting him to look at her, at least. But he makes no effort to text, or sign. Instead, he just stares blankly, telling her that it wasn’t good enough. She frowns, holding his stare.

“And it’s not like I’d never come back”

This time he scoffs, an unamused smile on his face as he shakes his head. The bitterness wafting off of him is almost as strong as his cursed energy. Without words, text, or movement, he’s able to say you’re not coming back, as clear as day.

“I would come back,” (y/n) argues quietly, and his violet eyes drift back to her with the realization that she seemed to understand exactly what he was thinking. If only she would extend the same ability to him, so he wouldn’t have to decipher all the layers of bullshit she uses to cover what she really thinks. “I would” She says it again, a certainty in her eyes that tells him she’s being sincere.

Toge huffs in defeat, unlocking his phone.

[inumaki toge]: what is it that you’re so insistent to go back to?

He doesn’t mean for it to be a harsh message, but that doesn’t make the blow to her ego any easier. But she knows he’s not wrong, either. There’s no family she’s in contact with. Her work leaves her no time for friendships, either. She doesn’t even have a pet. All she has is an undecorated apartment with a fridge that has one box of leftovers that would need to be thrown out upon her return and a perfectly made bed that hasn’t been slept on in weeks- even before she left.

There’s fundamentally nothing for her to go home to.

Her lower lip wobbles, but she’s quick to bite down on it before it could go noticed. Toge’s pretty sure he knows what he saw, though.

Setting his phone on his leg, he reaches his hand out to her. His touch is gentle, but apprehensive as he sets his hand on her wrist. It speaks volumes, though. She can see, and feel, all of the sympathy he’s trying to communicate. With a short squeeze, he pulled his hand away again, much too soon, but he’d said exactly what he needed to say with that movement alone.

Why can’t you stay?

Her mouth opens, “of course I can’t stay!” sitting right at the tip of her tongue, but this time she’s the one with the Cursed Speech, and she couldn’t possibly say it out loud. But it’s there, they both know it’s there, they can practically see it.

(y/n) shuts her mouth, wobbly lips forming into a frown upon seeing Toge’s disappointment in her silence.

She’s known him all of two weeks, and his disapproval wrecks her.

“I…” It’s broken, hardly a word, hardly a syllable, but it’s a start. “What would that say?”

His brows twitch, then draw together. Confusion, maybe concern, is written all over him as his eyes wander her features, doing their best to understand her. She doesn’t make it any easier on him.

With a slight shake of his head, he gives in and asks her what she means.

“If I stayed, just cause- just- just on a whim, for no reason other than-”

She’s stammering, hardly making sense, and she’s just barely managed to keep her voice down so as not to draw attention from the other passengers scattered around. But even she has to cut herself off before she could say something that could embarrass herself. Although, if she were honest with herself, that ship had sailed.

Toge tilts his head, prompting her to finish her thought, but the longer he sits, and stares, and waits, the more (y/n) seems to withdraw. Her mouth shuts, her brows seem to fall, and he worries that means she’ll be keeping the rest of her thoughts to herself. He frowns at her, his curious look turning pointed to voice his irritation.

(y/n) figures she could either find another way to explain herself, or she could be grateful that the train was pulling into their station now and she could let the conversation die within this car when she hops out.

The screeching halt followed by the squeak and cry of the doors sliding open is rough on the ears but (y/n) couldn’t have been more relieved as she shoots up from the seat and rushes out of them.

The unsaid words aren’t forgotten, they couldn’t be when they’re tethered to the both of them, following them off the train and through the station. It doesn’t matter how her stride races past his, the invisible chain still lingers.

She’s not winded from how quick she’s walking- of course not she’s a trained sorcerer- but somehow she’s not taking in air fast enough and she finds her chest rising and falling with short gasps of breath barely relieving her for a second at a time before she’s struggling to gulp down another.

Toge lets her storm off for a few paces. Whether it’s because he wants her to get it out of her system, or if he needed his own train of thought to catch up with his actions, he couldn’t be sure. But at some point following after her wasn’t enough.

(y/n) chokes mid breath when she’s halted from speed walking any further. A hand latches around her wrist, and she has the audacity to look shocked when she’s whirled around.

“Toge!” She shouts, and they both seem to wince at the realization that it’s the first time she’s called him by his first name.

His brows are drawn together, and his eyes shift between hers and the arm he’s holding a few times before he lets her go. He expected her to huff and take off again. Maybe she’d speed walk all the way back to Jujutsu Tech, pack her bags, and disappear before the sunrise.

Her hand falls limply back to her side, a visible weight resting on her shoulders as she seems to shrink before him. It’s odd to see her this way, but he doesn’t know how to communicate it at the moment.

“You barely know me” Her voice isn’t a whisper, but it’s too quiet for Toge’s liking. He fights the urge to roll his eyes by taking a slow blink.

His hand gestures towards his chest, then taps his head before pointing towards her. Her lips drop open, but Toge’s quick to repeat the action. One sharp gesture towards himself, a jerky point at his skull, and then an even more exaggerated point towards her. His finger stays in her direction until she shuts her mouth again, and he knows she won’t try to argue again.

Did he know everything about her? No. But right now, it’s what he wanted more than anything. And if he couldn’t get her to understand that, then he might go crazy.

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” She starts, and Toge groans, his head hanging back as he silently curses the clouds. “No,” She steps forward, reaching towards his arm only to hesitate once she’s close to grabbing him. “I meant… I meant I don’t understand why” She clarifies.

There’s nothing but softness behind his eyes as he gazes down at her, but the intensity of the violet still has a hitch forming in her throat. The way he looks at her, as if she hadn’t just tried to storm out on him, positively makes her knees weak in a way that she can no longer ignore.

That feeling she’s been pushing away, the stuttering heartbeat, the rush of adrenaline, she couldn’t ignore it now if she wanted to. Not with it reflecting in Toge’s eyes looking directly back at her.

Her own eyes stretch as round as saucers, realization draining her face of color before coming back in a creeping pink blush.

“And I- I barely know you,” She stammers over her words, but there’s something different in her tone now. As if she’s trying to convince herself, rather than him. Toge nods his head from side to side- he can’t argue, but he doesn’t think she wants him to anyways. “It would just be- ridiculous to stay, out of nowhere, just- just pack up my life and start all over here- I- I’m not even that familiar with Tokyo,”

He chuckles, amusement flickering in his eyes as he watches her grasp at straws. A last ditch effort at explaining away the feeling.

“And I’m a shit teacher… those kids will eat me alive if I can’t get my shit together…” Her voice goes quieter as she trails off, glancing away as her eyes search around the empty street for some sort of solution. “I can’t just uproot my life for you, you know”

And then (y/n’s) head snaps forward again, noticing much too late the implication of her words. Toge’s already raising a brow at her choice of words, a shit eating grin splitting his face.

He points his finger to his chest with an attitude that would make her glare at him if she could will the muscles in her face to do so. But her lips are working on a mind of their own, twitching into a nervous smile. She has to shake her head to combat the stupid dopey smile on her own face. It only seems to further Toge’s amusement.

“Don’t- don’t look at me like that!” She’s shouting again, but it’s useless. She’s already spoken those previously unsaid words, breaking their tether and letting them free for him to have and hold onto.

And hold onto them, he did.

“Salmon~” He sing-songs the riceball ingredient in a knowing, teasing tone. He enjoys it far too much when her nervous smile makes an attempt at frowning, only for the corners of her lips to wobble and tilt upwards at him again- as if smiling at him came naturally to them.

A breathless, humorless laugh escapes her. She pushes her fingers against her temples, as if it could bring some sort of peace to her chaotic mind. She must be going crazy to actually be caving, right?

“I’ve lost my mind” She mumbles out.

Toge rolls his eyes at her dramatics, unable to help it this time. He brings his hand out to brush his fingers under her chin, just enough to pull her attention back towards him- and returns color to her cheeks once more- before he reaches for one of her hands and pulls it towards him. Mindlessly, she takes a half step forward.

It’s quiet for a moment. And it should be uncomfortable, standing in silence in the middle of a sidewalk. The sun had set a while ago, leaving only the street lamps to illuminate the surrounding area. There are a few people still out and about, some rushing home late, others strolling casually, but even as people awkwardly sidestep the two of them, it’s hard to really give it much notice.

Not too unexpected, (y/n) breaks the silence first.

“There must be a rice ball ingredient that would tell me what you’re thinking,” She sighs, her nervous smile growing softer, fonder, more sure of itself.

Toge chuckles, and she can’t help but watch his lips tilt into a smile. The slight dip of skin where his markings are, where a dimple is almost perfectly centered by ink. Her gaze is as soft as her smile- just as fond, just as sure of herself.

“You know… you’re nothing like I thought you’d be when I first met you”

“Hm?” Toge hums, his head tilting just slightly. He already knows that he’s doomed to have a terrible first impression when people meet him.

(y/n) nods, her eyes haven’t torn away from his lips and the markings that frame them yet.

“I thought you were… I dunno, different,” Her own voice lowers to a near hum, something curious lighting up in her eyes. “I don’t know if you remember, but that exchange event, when we were still students, you made me run away from a fight,”

Toge nods, recalling the day just fine. Finally, her eyes flicker back up to meet his.

“I kind of hated you for that you know,”

It’s not funny, but he’s laughing quietly. (y/n) doesn’t understand it. He just shrugs impishly.

“I don’t like being told to walk away from a fight,” She says, a seriousness in her tone that stood out in the otherwise tranquil moment. “Actually, I don’t really like being told what to do at all,” She adds, almost as an afterthought.

Her eyes shift a few times back to his mouth, she does nothing to hide her glances.

Inumaki’s expression is knowing, she’d made it abundantly clear that she didn’t take direction from others very well, she didn’t have to tell him. It took him, like, three tries just to get her to go out for tea.

“But…” She sighs through a long exhale, trying to release her pent up nerves. “If you told me to stay, I wouldn’t really have another choice…” Her words are slow, careful, just like her eyes as she peeks up at him properly. “Literally” She tacks on at the end with the tiniest of smiles.

Inumaki raises his eyebrows, unable to help the way his lips tilt into a smirk at the idea. She’s not wrong, if he really wanted her to stay, he had just the right cursed technique to make that happen. His eyes shift between hers, if only to appreciate the way her impatience becomes her, no matter how hard she’s trying to mask it.

He opens his mouth, takes a breath, and leans down to her height. (y/n’s) eyes don’t blink once as she’s rendered breathless from anticipation.

Just as it looks like he’s going to say something, she does blink, and she nearly misses it. Toge’s quick, leaning in swiftly to brush his lips over her cheek in a chaste kiss. Her eyes are flying open to stare at him in shock when he pulls away just as fast as he’d leaned in.

She opens her mouth to say something- probably some sort of protest out of shock, but no words come out, and there’s no denying that she’s starting to grin.

Toge’s already smiling ear to ear, seemingly proud of himself. He doesn’t give her any extra time to think of some witty thing to say, either. Just holds his arm open to drape around her shoulders so that when they continued their walk, she was right next to him. Still shell shocked, (y/n) finds herself blindly going along with him. She doesn’t brush off his arm, or speed away, she keeps her pace purposefully in sync with his. And after a few strides, she’s even closer to him than before.

Their walk is quiet for a while, each too preoccupied by their heads from that one little kiss.

(y/n) was practically derailing- had he really reduced her to this simple state from a kiss on the cheek? Was she actually making a mental checklist for moving preparations? Would she always feel a burst of electricity inside of her when he was close?

It would take a business day or two for her to regain her composure and open her eyes to what she really wanted. But Toge was happy to wait, especially when it meant he’d be the one right there when she was ready to admit how she felt.

Speaking off- Toge couldn’t wipe the grin off his face the whole journey back to Jujutsu Tech. It wasn’t a long walk, but it felt like an eternity when he had the girl of his dreams under his arm, still blushing from one little kiss.

What an excitement it would be to get to do it again, and have her understand him.

#inumaki toge x reader #inumaki #toge #toge inumaki #toge inumaki x reader #toge x reader #inumaki x reader #inumaki toge imagine #inumaki toge fanfiction #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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1lovehanni · 2 months ago

Text

Escape the Spotlight (Hanni of Newjeans)

Hanni x Male Reader (Y/N) Word Count: 1841 words Summary: Y/N fucks Hanni after her birthday, oh also this is canon so sum issues about them rn.

The soft hum of the city filtered through the dorm’s open window, carried by the cool evening breeze. Hanni had left it cracked just enough for the noise to feel distant, like a reminder of the world outside, one she was eager to escape from tonight. She leaned against the desk in her small, cozy dorm, her phone loosely grasped in her hand as she reread the last message she sent.

“Hey, come over. I need a distraction.”

Simple, direct, and maybe a little too forward, but she was tired of holding back. Her birthday was supposed to be a time to celebrate, but all it had been was a whirlwind of interviews, scheduled social media posts, and the pressures that came with being under the spotlight as an idol. For once, she wanted to forget about the cameras and scripts and just be herself.

The only person who could assist her in doing that was Y/N.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, but the minutes dragged as she waited. Her heart pounded in her chest, anticipation creeping up her spine. It wasn’t often that she invited someone into her private space like this, but Y/N was different. There was something about him that made her feel... safe. She didn’t need to put up her walls or play a part when he was around.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her out of her thoughts. His message was brief:

“On my way. Be there soon.”

Hanni exhaled, a little smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She pushed herself away from the desk, pacing a bit to calm her nerves. She had no idea what tonight would lead to, but she knew she wanted it to be far from the reality she lived in every day. No cameras, no judgment, just her and Y/N.

As she moved around the room, she glanced at herself in the small mirror hanging on the wall. Her reflection showed a different side of her—Hanni Pham, the idol, was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she was just Hanni, in a simple oversized hoodie and comfortable shorts, her dark hair tied up messily. She was free from the usual layers of makeup and the high-maintenance outfits, and for once, she liked it. It was the real her. She wished more people would see, but they didn’t.

She rubbed her arms absentmindedly, feeling the familiar anxiety settle in. Being an idol wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. The expectations, the scrutiny, the never-ending demand to be perfect—it was exhausting. And as much as she loved her fans, sometimes she just needed a break.

Tonight, she hoped Y/N would be that break.

The knock on the door startled her from her thoughts. She moved quickly, her pulse quickening. Pulling the door open, she was met with the sight of Y/N standing there, looking a bit out of breath but with that familiar smile that always made her feel at ease.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice warm and slightly teasing. “Didn’t keep you waiting too long, did I? ”

Hanni shook her head, stepping aside to let him in. “No, you’re just in time.”

The door clicked shut behind him, and for a moment, there was an awkward pause as they stood there. The tension between them was subtle but palpable. They’d known each other for a while, but tonight felt different. Something was hanging in the air, something unspoken, and neither of them seemed ready to address it—at least not yet.

Y/N took in the room, noticing the faint scent of lavender that lingered, the warm glow of the dim light she’d set up, and the slight mess that hinted at her life outside of the polished image people saw on stage. It was intimate and personal.

“You look... comfortable,” he remarked, his eyes tracing over her figure, not in a way that made her self-conscious but in a way that made her feel seen. Really seen.

She smiled, playing with the hem of her hoodie. “It’s my birthday. I wanted to be comfortable.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And you decided to spend it... with me? ”

She shrugged, her voice softening. “I didn’t want to spend it alone.”

That admission hung in the air, and Y/N seemed to understand. Without saying a word, he stepped closer, his presence immediately grounding her. He wasn’t there to judge or to expect anything from her. He was just... there. And that was what she needed most.

They moved to sit on the floor, leaning against the foot of her bed. The conversation flowed easily at first—catching up, joking around, talking about things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. But as the minutes passed, Hanni found herself opening up more, telling him about the things she didn’t usually share with others.

“It’s been hard,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “The whole idol thing... it’s not as glamorous as people think.”

Y/N listened intently, his gaze never leaving her face. He nodded, not interrupting, just letting her speak.

“I just... I want to be myself, you know? ”She laughed bitterly. “But sometimes, I don’t even know who that is anymore.”

There was a silence, heavy but not uncomfortable. Y/N reached out, gently taking her hand in his. It was a simple gesture, but it sent a warmth through her that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“You’re Hanni,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “That’s enough.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. It was such a simple statement, but it meant everything to her at that moment. She looked at him, her eyes searching his face, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel the need to put on a mask. She could just be... her.

Without thinking, she leaned forward, her lips brushing against his in a tentative kiss. It was soft, almost hesitant, as if she were testing the waters. But when Y/N kissed her back, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, something inside her clicked.

This was what she’d been missing. This connection, this intimacy. The world outside didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was him and the way he made her feel like she was enough, just as she was.

The kiss deepened, growing more urgent as the tension between them finally broke. Hanni’s hands slid up his chest, pulling him closer as their breaths mingled, the room around them fading into the background. All of her worries, her stress, her insecurities—they melted away in his embrace.

As they pulled apart, breathless, Hanni rested her forehead against his, her fingers still tangled in his shirt. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. “For being here.”

Y/N smiled, his hand resting on her waist, grounding her. “Always." Y/N removes his shirt with a quick motion, leaving Hanni with a desired look. Hanni instantly kisses Y/N with more passion, as if she were dehydrated for lust. Both of them moan as their mouths explore each other. After an intense makeover, Hanni grabbed her shorts and tossed them to the side. Y/N then put his hands over her thighs; Hanni’s already wet from the sloppy kisses they had. Y/N rubbed his hands on her pants, making circles on Hanni’s clitoral area. Instinctively Hanni moans under his mouth. “Ugh, yes, make me cum Y/N.Hannah is reaching her limit; she holds on with the kiss and moans louder and louder with every hand movement of Y/N. “I am going to cum, Y/N, I am going to cu... ughh.” She reached her orgasm, slowly fading to Y/N's body as she loses her energy. They looked at each other with a smile. “I want you on me, Y/N.” Without wasting any time, Y/N removed his pants, greeting Hanni with a bulge in his boxers. Hanni’s face was flustered by the view. She was smiling and grinning. “Wow.” leaves from her mouth. Instantly she moves onto his boxers and removes slowly while looking at Y/N eyes. Y/N cock flew from his boxer and hit Hanni’s face. Both laughed, but then Hanni swallowed the rod in her face. “Oh Hanni.”

She bobbed her head up and down, swallowing inch by inch of Y/N cock. She is making slurping sounds, moaning while taking what’s her. She continued the blowjob, occasionally changing the pace. “I am getting close.” When she hears this, she increases the pace like she's racing a deadline. She speeds her bobbing, galloping every inch of Y/N cock, and after a minute Y/N shoots his hot semen in her mouth. She swallows all of his cum, even licking the ones that overflow from her mouth. Hanni then stands over Y/N, removing her hoodie, showing her cute boobs to him, and playing with her nipples—that’s already hard.

Hanni slowly lowers her body to Y/N, aligning her opening to him. She kept eye contact with him, having conversations with their eyes and being playful with it. His cock entered the heavens when Hanni finally let him come in, breaking the silence with a moan from both of them. She adjusted as the tip was entering. It is not their first time, yet she's still tight as ever. Y/N groaned from the feeling of his cock entering Hanni’s pussy. As she lowered her body more, it also adjusted with Y/N's size; after all, 7 inches isn’t that easy to penetrate.

Hanni gives up and lowers her entire body to him, leaving her to lose control of her body and slams to Y/N, but luckily he catches her and at the same time kisses her on the lips, creating another makeup session. She slowly moves her hips and starts her ride. “Oh, god, your cock feels so good on me,” she blurts from her mouth.

Just like the blowjob, she also increases her pace slowly. She truly wants to make it all the time and to experience another world far from her idol image. They parted lips as the pace started getting faster. Hanni then let Y/N do more of the work; he's now the one driving the pace as he fucks her hard, leaving Hanni with moans and pleasure.

“Fuck!! ,” she screamed as she coughed. Y/N followed with his seed shooting inside her. ‘Oh sh*t, I cummed inside fuck my bad,” he said to her.

Oh yes, cum inside me. I am on pills, you dumbo.” With her approving of him to cum inside of her. Y/N carried Hanni and changed into a dogstyle position and kept fucking her.

This goes throughout the night; time passes, lives change, and a new world is ahead.

Hanni kisses Y/N, “Thanks for coming; I had fun.” “Me, too. I am always here when you need me. Goodnight.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Thanks for reading!!

A/N: Hanni smut?, Hanni smut, Hanni smut!, HANNI SMUT!??!!!

#hanni pham #newjeans hanni #smut #male reader #kpop smut #kissable kpop lips #kpop #girl group smut #nwjns

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moonstruckme · 7 months ago

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omg ok idea! James or Sirius with a gf whose chatty but just not super crass and May be she comes home drunk from girl's night and is just openly trying to seduce him and he's just so taken aback like who is this person?!

Thanks for requesting!

cw: intoxication, dubious consent but nothing more than kissing

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 717 words

Sirius has never received such determined kisses in his life.

He turns his lips from yours, smearing them over your brow in consolation when you make a piteous, dejected sound he’s going to pretend for your benefit isn’t hilarious. You keep planting kisses on his jaw, his neck. Sirius catches your wrists in his hands when you start pulling up the hem of his shirt.

“Hey, hey,” he laughs. “What happened to ‘hello’? Is this how we greet each other now, sweetness?”

The kisses had begun the second he’d shut the door on your friends. They’d chatted for a minute before that, and you’d had this strange smile on your face as you waited for them to go. At the time, Sirius had chalked it up to your obvious inebriation, but now he knows it for depravity.

“Preferably,” you mumble, mouth busy with the bits of chest you can get at by pulling down the collar of his shirt. Sirius isn’t sure whether you can’t stand on your own or whether you’ve just decided pressing yourself fully against him is the way to go. Any other time, he really wouldn’t be opposed.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asks, delighted and exercising every ounce of self restraint in his battered soul to keep from kissing you back. He starts pulling you towards the couch, your uncoordinated feet following behind.

You pause in your ravishment to grin up at him. You look positively impish. “Like, d’you want a list?”

Sirius laughs, astonished. “What happened to my shy girl? Were you freaky fridayed by someone in the club?”

“Freaky fridayed in the club.” You snort, flopping down onto the couch when he does and immediately getting into his lap. “That could mean lots of things.”

Sirius feels a tug on his mouth. “Such as?”

You bury your head in his neck, voice vibrating against his skin. “It’d make a good band name.”

“It might,” he agrees, taking your face between both hands and removing you from him like a leech. A very pretty, beloved leech. “Do you feel like it might be time for bed, lovebug?”

Your eyes spark. “Yeah,” you say heartily.

“To sleep,” he clarifies.

“Oh.” Your face falls. “Well, no. I thought we could have sex first.”

Sirius guffaws, the sound short and loud, and his amusement really only worsens when you frown sullenly.

“Baby,” he tries gentling his tone, “I would love that, but you know why we can’t.”

“Why?” you ask obstinately.

Sirius pushes his thumbs into your cheeks, making wishful dimples on either side of your frown. “Because of what’s gotten into you.”

“But I want to,” you whine.

He pouts right back at you. “Me too, darling. It’s a tragedy.”

“Not even a kiss?” you ask, tilting your head in his hands and looking up at him with huge, sweet eyes. Have you been able to do that this whole time? Fuck, he’s lucky you’re not often feeling bold enough to use it.

“I could do a kiss,” he concedes.

“A nice one,” you demand.

Sirius feels his lips pull up. “Agreed. A nice one.”

You close your eyes, expectant, and he bends towards you, pressing his lips to yours sweetly. You taste like all manner of booze, but still his girl. You make a soft sound in your throat, lips parting for his, coaxing him in. In an extraordinary show of willpower, Sirius pulls away.

“Hey.” You look betrayed, and he can’t help himself, planting a quick peck on your nose that makes it scrunch adorably. “You said it’d be a nice one!”

“That felt pretty nice to me,” he says, laughing when you try to move in for more and he has to dodge you. He turns his head to the side and catches at your hands when they go for his shirt. “That’s it for tonight. If you want more kisses tomorrow, I promise to let you have as many as you like.”

You sigh, giving up and hooking your chin on his shoulder. “Your lips were, like, buzzing,” you mumble, wistful. “It was nice.”

“Pretty sure that’s just you, sweetness,” Sirius tells you kindly, breaking his promise once more to press his lips to your hair. “Ready for bed now?”

“To sleep?” you ask despondently.

“Yeah, baby. To sleep.”

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katszumi · 8 months ago

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bakugou hated defeat. he was never one to forfeit anything. if he could challenge the ocean to a battle, he would and sincerely believe he’d win.

once, he admits defeat to the universe and chooses to let you slip through his fingers.

when he began to fall in love with your sweet manner, delicate touch, warm smile and witty behavior, he also began to hate himself.

he hated the way he was when it came to feelings. he knew he wasn’t able to express his emotions like a good boyfriend should. he was intolerable, insufferable. something that couldn’t have mixed with you.

love was a foreign concept to him, something he couldn’t grasp but something he desperately wished for deep down, no matter how many times he brushed it off or ridiculed the idea.

bakugou knew love wasn’t designed for him, and he wasn’t ever going to let his silly imagination deceive him otherwise.

but, he knows his heart never stands a chance. especially tonight when he finds you on the terrace of ua. the night-sky wrapped the area in its darkness, the crescent moon illuminating the brightest color it could, and the silent night bringing the greatest solitude it could.

bakugou attempts to leave you be, but your eyes find him faster than he originally thought, him being pulled into your magnetic, overwhelming aura.

“hey,” he begins, a slight waver in his voice from his nerves. “not enjoyin’ the party inside?”

you chuckle slightly, waving his question off. “just needed some air.”

bakugou nods in response. he folded his arms over the railing, taking in the scenery around them.

it was the last night for the third years at ua, everyone celebrating their triumphs, losses, friendships. it was the last time they’d be within this building all together, the last time bakugou could silently admire you from afar. he’d always think about his last day there, wondering if he’d be shouting from excitement. he wasn’t close to thinking that he’d feel like his whole world was coming down.

you were planning to travel to the united states to start your hero debut, receiving an offer there that you just couldn’t pass up. he remembered the moment when you told him so vividly. you wore a huge smile, basically jumping out of excitement. that was the first time bakugou came to the realization that he couldn’t have you.

truth be told, he was scared of breaking paths with you. anger, sorrow, fear. you shone a light on all of those emotions. it felt like his anchor was gone. breaking every stable piece off of him one by one.

“so, what’s next for you? don’t think you ever told me your plan.”

in his head, bakugou replies with, that was on purpose. he wanted to remove everything from his mind. go with the flow and live in the moment until it was officially time to get started on his new path of life. but, he figured there was no more time to put it off.

“stay in the city for a bit. kirishima talked about collaboratin’ on an agency, so been givin’ that some consideration.” he replies somberly. “i don’t know really, just gotta find something to keep me busy.”

you echoed bakugou’s action from earlier, nodding to his statement. a small sigh parted your lips, partly from exhaustion, but also from sadness.

“you scared?” it came out as a whisper, as if it was a taboo subject to never touch on, and frankly it was when it came to bakugou.

he waited to respond, pausing for as long as he could before the silence turned uncomfortable.

“yeah.” something so simple but spoke so much considering bakugou would never admit such a thing. “you’ll be okay though. you got an offer some of us wish we could have, and i heard the states has good job opportunities.”

“i don’t wanna go.” first it came out as a mumble, bakugou unsure if he just understood the words that came out of your mouth.

“what?”

“i don’t want to go.” this time, your voice was much more stern.

“the fuck you talkin’ about? you’ve been excited for this shit the day you got the letter, now you don’t wanna go? as if.” he was aware that he came off a little too defensive, mostly to shield his heart from catching a little bit of hope, he didn’t mean to come at you so harshly.

you peeled your eyes away from him, purposely avoiding his eye contact. looking at him seemed more like receiving a scolding from a parent more than anything right now.

“i mean, the united states? i’ll be there alone, no family, no friends. it’s not the money or opportunities i’m concerned about, bakugou. it’s about my happiness.” you explained. “isn’t that something you’re thinking about too?”

bakugou weighs his options. he thinks he has nothing else to lose, but he also considers the fact of you breaking his heart even more than it is. besides, you were smart, he knew you were going to take the offer anyway no matter how bad your nerves were eating you up.

“you can’t think with your heart about things like this, y/n.” he knows he’s an asshole. he knows you’re looking to him for the reassurance you want to hear but he just can’t give it.

“i’m not! i just want to be happy doing the things i love and that’s not possible in an environment i cant stand to be in.”

“you don’t know that yet.”

“i’m getting a pretty good feeling.”

“because you’re scared.”

you shrug, “so what? you don’t know how i feel. you’ll be here with your mom, dad, and all of your friends. i’ll have to start over from scratch in a country i know nothing about.”

he scoffed, his eyes darting away from your figure. “right because you know exactly how i feel.” his tone bled with sarcasm.

“you don’t tell me how you feel for anything, so sorry for taking an educated guess.” you retorted.

“you never ask to begin with.”

“as if you’d even tell me. you think i haven’t noticed you avoiding me these past couple of weeks? you don’t even talk to me anymore.”

now the roles reversed, you stared at him, bakugou not daring to look into your eye.

he shifted in his position, beginning to become uncomfortable. he replayed in his mind what he should’ve done moments ago instead of coming to speak to you.

“nothing to say?” you were playing with fire, not caring that you were poking the bear. “guess that’s not anything new. you just do whatever you want, say whatever you wish without thinking of the other person, because you’re ‘katsuki bakugou’. the man who cares about none other than the title of being the number one hero.”

“that’s not fuckin’ true and you know it.” he snaps his head towards you.

“do i?” your eyes searched his. “maybe a few months ago i would’ve, but you’ve been treating me like an outcast recently. i thought i mattered to you! i thought we were something!”

“what do you want me to say here?”

“i want you to be honest.”

bakugou clenched his teeth, his jaw sharpening from the action. of course he wanted to be with you, there was no other girl that he could imagine being with. but it just couldn’t work. you weren’t made to be with a monster, and he didn’t deserve to enjoy something so sweet as you.

so, bakugou opted to refuse the truth once again, brushing her off.

“you’re just too good for me.” he simply replies. “don’t waste your potential here. go to america.”

bakugou takes no more time to indulge in your erratic behavior, so he leaves you at the terrace, the noise of the party being heard the moment he opened the side door.

he wanted you more than anything. if the universe loved him a little more, then maybe things between you two would work out. but because of his shitty luck and vexatious attitude, you two just didn’t match.

he also knew there was just someone you were bound to fall in love with in america.

bakugou wasn’t going to lead you on to make a stupid decision. even if that meant destroying himself in the process.

the morning after, your name wasn’t to be found on any of his socials, and his messages to you turned green. if he didn’t know before, then he definitely knew now that he burned anything he had with you.

pt two

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nanenna · 22 days ago

Text

Detective Work on the Other Side

We getting into my own HCs now, enjoy the lore!

Sleep King Master post (it should actually work this time)

---

It felt weird sitting in the Specter Speeder as Phantom with his parents. It wasn’t that long ago that he’d finally told his parents himself, but just like Jazz had said they’d loved and accepted him as is. Danny was still getting used to it.

Danny pointed out the windshield, “That island there should be good.” It was little more than an oversized boulder with some grass on it, but it was big enough for the speeder and was pretty close to Johnny and Kitty’s lair, so it would do. Once they landed, the three Fentons disembarked so Danny could let the lovers out of Soup Time.

“Ugh, finally!” Johnny griped once they were set free.

Danny crossed his arms, “How do you keep getting into Amity? We put extra protections on the portal, no one should be able to get through.”

“Your dinky portal isn’t the only one in the whole world,” Kitty said with an eye roll.

“You just gotta know where to look,” Johnny added with a wink.

“Well stop it! I don’t want to have to repeat a grade!”

“Then stop chasing us. Jeez, no one’s forcing you.”

“Danny, sweetie,” Mom interrupted, “ask them about the summoning.”

“Summoning?” Kitty asked, perking up.

“It’s really concerning,” Dad said while scratching his head.

“Yeah, I was asleep so I don’t really remember it but I got summoned last night.”

“How’d you sleep through a summoning?” Kitty asked incredulously with a sneer.

Johnny just nodded, “Damn, wish I could sleep through a summoning.”

“I don’t know!” Danny threw his hands up in the air. “The really weird part is they were trying to summon Pariah!”

That got Johnny and Kitty to stop laughing. “Oh shit, really?”

“Johnny! Don’t cuss around the baby!” Kitty smacked his arm lightly.

“You owe the swear jar,” Dad boomed eagerly.

Johnny just rolled his eyes.

“That’s what we were told,” Mom cut in. “There was a cult that was trying to summon the Ghost King and somehow got Danny.”

“Wait, were they trying to summon Pariah by name or the Ghost King title?” Kitty asked eagerly.

“Ghost King,” Mom said decisively.

“Oh no,” Danny said. His grades may be in the toilet, but even he could put two and two together. “No, there’s no way I’m the Ghost King!”

“Maybe,” Kitty said while looking Danny up and down.

“Not like it means anything,” Johnny said airily.

Danny thought the matter over, “How does it not mean anything?”

“Well Pariah just declared himself the Ghost King one day, others only listened because he forced them to. And it’s not like we need a king, we’ve had the council ever since.”

“Ugh, stupid eye balls,” Danny griped. “But yeah, if he just decided to make himself king I guess it doesn’t really mean anything.”

Mom sighed deeply, “You mean like Alexander the Great? Or Ghengis Khan? Or William the Conquerer? Or anyone else from history who declared himself in charge and then killed anyone who didn’t listen?”

Danny drooped, “Okay, so maybe it does matter. But how would that even work? Why am I the Ghost King now?”

“Dunno,” Johnny said with a shrug. “It’s not like you even have the crown or ring.”

“No, Pariah still has the ring and last I saw the crown Vlad had it.”

“Good old Vladdie,” Dad boomed eagerly, “holding onto a powerful artifact like that to keep it safe!”

“So shouldn’t Vlad be the new Ghost King?” Danny asked with a shudder.

“Well the summoning circle thinks you earned the title somehow, so I guess it’s you now.” Johnny snickered as he got on his bike, Kitty quickly hopping on behind him. “Anyway, see ya ‘round, your majesty.” Johnny sneered the last part, then the pair both laughed like Johnny had just told the best joke ever as he zoomed off.

“Well I’m proud of you!” Dad slapped Danny’s back so hard he face planted. “Fighting that nasty Ghost King was really brave of you, and look at you now! Our boy, the Ghost King!” Dad wiped away a tear of deep paternal pride.

Danny had already floated himself up off the ground and dusted himself off, completely unharmed. “Thanks Dad, that means a lot.” And it really did! He was used to his parents being proud of him, not for his grades obviously, but just… in general. Or something. To have his dad say he’s proud of things Danny did as Phantom just… hit different.

“Is there anyone we can ask about this? The council that ruffian mentioned?” Mom looked thoughtful.

“Ugh no, the council hates my guts for some reason.”

“Well… if they’ve been in charge since Pariah was put in the sarcophagus and you’re the king now, maybe they feel threatened?” Dad asked, rubbing his chin.

“That’s probably it, sweetiepie. They’re just threatened by you.” Mom gently pat his arm.

“That’s so weird! I don’t even want to be king, I’d probably be a terrible one anyway.”

Dad gasped, “Danno! That’s just not true! Sure, you’re a bit young to be king now, but in a few years I bet you’d be a great king!”

“Pass.” Danny did not want to add a crown to his disaster of a life. Especially if it meant he’d have to be a bully to make others listen to him anyway, it’s not like anyone listened to Pariah.

“So honey, anyone else we can ask about the Ghost King? Or summoning circles? I’m really worried about you randomly getting summoned by creepy cults.” And boy, did Mom have a point about that! Yikes!

“Uh… maybe Frostbite?” The yeti did keep calling him “Great One” and that had to mean something, right? And if not he could hopefully point them in the right direction.

“Wonderful!” Mom chirped as she started herding Danny back into the Speeder. “And along the way you can answer a few small questions about your fight with Pariah.”

“I’m sorry about taking the Ecto-skeleton without asking,” Danny blurted out, face turning green as it grew colder.

“It’s alright, baby boy,” Mom pinched his cheek, “we understand why you did it and why you felt you had to at the time. But never do it again, okay?”

“Yeah,” Danny said miserably as they got back into the speeder. Once Danny had pointed them in the direction of the Far Frozen, he sat criss cross applesauce in the air. “So uh… questions?”

“Oh yeah! What questions did you have, fudgecakes?”

“Well…” Mom started but hesitated before continuing slowly. “This sounds like it might be a right of conquest situation.”

Danny had no idea what that meant. Well he knew what the words individually meant, and he had a pretty good idea what the phrase meant generally, but he had no idea what the rules or details were.

“Was this an official challenge?” Mom asked when Danny only stared blankly at her.

“Uh… maybe?” Danny tried thinking back to the fight, “What would make it an official challenge?”

“Did the Ghost King say he accepted your challenge? Or challenge you?”

“He uh…” Danny tried to remember the times he’d bantered with Pariah. “He said he accepted my terms,” Danny said with a squeak near the end.

Mom just nodded, “Right, so it sounds like a challenge. And did you take his crown at any point in the fight?”

Danny tried to remember the end of the fight, and well… “Yeah, I knocked it off him right before shoving him back into the sarcophagus. But Vlad had the key that actually locked it, and then he had the crown the last time I saw it.”

“Danny, sweetie, Vlad didn’t challenge the Ghost King to single combat, and he didn’t take the crown as part of that challenge.”

“Oh,” was all Danny could say as the realization of what he’d unwittingly done sank in. “Well… shit.”

#danny phantom #dpxdc #dc comics #justice league #fanfic #nenna writes #sleepy king #he's not sleepy right now LOL #insert the rant from princess diaries here #just in case i wasn't enough of a freak let's add a crown!

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princessbellecerise · 11 months ago

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Sweet Like Sugar

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | In which you’re Coryo’s sugar baby

warnings | smut, sugar daddy!coryo, slight public sex

this is an eighteen plus fic. minors do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

You’re not sure what to say at first when Coryo proposes this idea to you, but you have to say that you’re shocked

You’re nothing more than a district girl, having been raised in not quite poverty but not abundance either

You’ve never had anything other than the bare minimum, so when Snow offers to give you the world and to take care of your family as well?

Well, it’s obvious what you choose

Quickly, you end up being transported from your district to the Capitol in no time. While your family is given a high rise apartment and grocery deliveries every month, you’re given your own space; a house not too far from his own mansion

Snow likes to keep you close, as he does with all of his prized possessions

And first things first, you’re spoiled

There’s no one in Panem that has more than you, no one that has more jewels, clothes, makeup, etc. Not even Coriolanus himself

He takes such good care of you, making sure that you want for nothing and that you have everything you need

He’s surprisingly generous; but you both know that it doesn’t come without a cost

The world outside of the capitol is a harsh one; one that you desperately don’t want to experience again. You’ve seen people starving to death or being maimed by wild animals in your district and you do not wish to live that kind of life. You’re content, comfortable with how you live so any price he states, you pay

Usually it comes in the form of Coryo being on top of you, a hand around your pretty little neck while he fucks you on his desk

Or, sometimes it’s in his room, with your face stuffed into his luxurious pillows as he fucks you from behind

One way or another, he uses you like you use him. Whenever and however he pleases

You don’t mind of course, loving the way you’re bouncing on his cock one minute and then the next he’s buying you a diamond necklace

He likes for you to get dolled up for him, so he can show you off and make everyone around him jealous

He sees the way they look at you, and the way other men and even women envy him. He knows that they’d give to have you but they can’t. They can’t afford you

Sugar daddy!Coryo that always makes you call him ‘sir.’ He tell you that it’s the proper way to address him as he is the president, but really he just likes the way it sounds coming from your pretty little lips

Often times, he’ll call you nicknames such as ‘Doll,’ or ‘Pretty Girl’

They’re fitting seeing as you’re always dressed up, whether that be in fancy dresses or silk night gowns that he’s specifically picked out for you to wear

Sugar daddy!Coryo that takes you out for fancy dinners, only to end up fucking you in the bathroom like he’s a commoner. He always hates when he looses his self control like that but fuck—sometimes you just look so good that he can’t help but to stoop to that level

Sugar daddy!Coryo that kisses you desperately in some random bathroom stall, that has you pressed up against him and can’t stop rambling about how hard he is

Coryo that has you stepping out of that expensive dress in no time, even tearing it a little so he can reveal your pretty cunt

You’re always wet for him, always so eager and that’s what Coryo loves

He loves the feeling of you wrapped around him, moaning his name and begging him to let you cum

Of course, before it even reaches that point, he also has you on your knees, sucking him off to try and relive some of his desperation

Even after everything, Coryo likes to think that he’s a gentleman, so of course he lays his jacket on the floor so your knees won’t be hurting

It’s the least he can do because fuck—you always have him cumming in no time, and again once he’s fucking into your tight cunt

He never cums inside of you, always on your tits or in your mouth

He just loves the way that you look up at him, pretty face coated with his seed. He always take a few seconds to admire you before cleaning you up, making sure you’re presentable once again before finally settling down at your table, thirty minutes later

And of course, before he takes you home for the night, he also makes sure to fuck you one last time in his fancy limousine, windows fogging up and all of Panem having no clue what’s happening behind those tinted windows

#tbosas x reader #tbosas #tbosas smut #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus smut #coryo x reader

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yelenasbraid · 2 months ago

Text

home to me — joe burrow

summary — bengals are now 0-3, and joe couldn’t feel worse about it. luckily, you’re there to help pick up his broken pieces

warnings — fem!reader, major angst, fluff, crying joey (SORRY)

note — surprise! and don’t come after me!

YOU WATCH WITH AN ACHING HEART the last 4 seconds of the game. you wished so badly for a miracle, for an interception, for something to turn that 33 into anything higher than a 38. offense looked great, defense? you could do better than they did without the padding.

that was your bitterness talking.

you filed out of the stadium and down to where you usually met joe; outside the locker room. you knew that this wasn’t going to be the celebration you hoped for. you knew that joe wasn’t going to have that boyish grin on his face, and it broke your heart. you felt like you haven’t seen joe smile in weeks.

you stood there, anxiously swaying as you watched player after player shuffle in from the field. those who noticed you gave you a small, sad smile. others kept going, angry at themselves and at the world.

joe appeared at the end of the crowd of players, as he usually did, with his head down. his shoulders sagged, but it wasn’t until he looked up and locked eyes with you that you saw everything.

joe was devastated, and rightfully so.

he parted from the staff member and walked over to you, a small pep in his step as he did so. no words were spoken as he threw his arms around you, bringing you as close as he could get you. you embraced him back, cradling his head as he nuzzled into your neck.

he’s never done this before, even after a win. for joe to express this level of emotion right after a game was unusual. it worried you, but maybe you were overthinking. you hoped you were.

joe separated from you, sniffling and keeping the tears at bay. you held onto his hands and watched him with a worried eye.

“i’m fine,” he answered your silent question. you knew he wasn’t, and he knew that you knew. that much was obvious.

“ok,” you hummed, but that’s all you were going to say right now. you didn’t believe him, and he knew that. joe gave you a single look, his eyes opening a gateway into his heart, the depth of his sadness. he was beating himself up, and pretty badly too.

“i might be a minute, go on home. i’ll see you later,” he told you. driving separately wasn’t abnormal, sometimes you had to. especially if it was an away game. what was odd was the way he seemed to stick around, unable to move his feet.

“ok, i love you,” you reminded him. his face softened, letting your words permeate through the tension in his chest. he just needed to make it through the press conference.

“i love you,” he replied. he gave you a lingering kiss on the forehead before he stepped away. he didn’t want to, though. he wanted to stay where it was safe, where it was comfortable. he wanted to stay with you because he didn’t have to explain himself. somehow, you always knew.

—

you were showered and in your pajamas by the time joe got home. you sat on the couch, blanket draped over your legs and your phone in your hands. you saw the comments, the videos of disappointed fans. you saw the posts all about how much of an upset the loss was. the more you read on, the more you realized that the fans didn’t think joe was at fault. they’d be right, it wasn’t his fault.

your eyes flicked up from your phone as joe made his way further into the house. his footsteps are heavy, as is the rest of his body. he’s exhausted, and there’s only a thread keeping him from falling apart.

“babe?” you called out to him, and he slowly turned his eyes towards you. his eyes were puffy, his face was red; did he cry in the car on the way home? silence met your questioning tone, but it did stop him in his tracks.

usually after a bad game, or a loss, joe needed space. he’d trudge up to his office and stay there for a few hours, pouring over film and noting strategies they needed to try next time. he was still going to do those things, but tonight was different. you knew it was the second he hugged you like he did after the game.

“i’m fine,” he replied, his voice breaking. joe didn’t like crying, in fact, he hated it. but he grew used to it, learning that just because he cried didn’t mean he was any less or he was weak. it took him a while for him to trust you with that vulnerability, but once he did, the flood gates couldn’t be locked tight for long.

“you’re not,” you hummed softly. he knew he wasn’t, and he wasn’t trying hard enough to hide it. he screwed his eyes shut, trying to make the tears go away, but all it did was make his eyes burn more.

“don’t run away from me, don’t shut me out,” you stood up from your spot on the couch, slowly walking over to him. he was battling himself as he stood there, tears sliding down his raw cheeks. his mind was waging a war against him, telling him lies about himself and about how he played.

“why?” he asked you.

“why what?”

“i’ve lost three games, and i’ve treated you horribly after two of them. why are you still with me?” he voiced his vulnerability, his fear. his heart told him you wouldn’t leave him because of a losing streak, but the malicious whispers in his mind told him a different story.

“one, you apologized to me and we talked about it,” you started, “secondly, joey, i’m still with you because you are the love of my life. you’re there to pick me up when i’m down, you’re able to make me laugh, you’ve helped me put pieces of myself back together that you didn’t break in the first place. you’re protective, and you’re a fighter, that’s why i’m with you and will always be with you,” you finished, peering into his eyes. you saw your words sink in and start to meld him back together, but it wasn’t enough.

“i’ve lost three games, three. no matter how hard i fight, no matter how well i think i did, i can’t seem to win a damn game!” joe spoke through gritted teeth, his hands going through his hair. he’s frustrated, he’s angry, and he’s beating himself up. he’s not blaming the team, he’s blaming himself.

“all of these people, all of the fans, you, i’ve disappointed them. i’ve disappointed you, i promised myself that i was going to bring home a superbowl ring, for both of us, and if we keep losing-”

“stop, joey,” you interrupted his spiral with a soft hand to his chest. he’s panting, out of breath from the amount of anxiety he’s giving himself.

“listen to me, look at me,” you tilt his chin so his eyes meet yours, feeling the soft starts of scruff against your finger tips, “you did not disappoint me, and you most certainly didn’t disappoint the fans watching you tonight. you played well, you made decisive plays, you were quick to release the ball. you did your job and did it well. and you will get that super bowl ring, i believe that, and so do you. you’ve beat the odds before, you’ve showed the world to never underestimate joe burrow, the small town kid from athens, ohio. so, show them again. show them what this kid can do,” you went on, shining light on the things that made joe joe.

“i’ve failed that kid,” he whispered, afraid to say it out loud. he’s fought so hard his whole life, and he still fought. joe’s never given up and he doesn’t plan on it, but the anger hasn’t settled in yet. the vengeance hasn’t taken root yet.

“no, no love you didn’t, you haven’t. you didn’t fail him when you tore your acl, you didn’t fail him when you went to the superbowl, you didn’t fail him when you went to the afc championship, you didn’t fail him amidst the injuries and the doubts. that kid would do anything to play football, and that’s exactly what you’re doing,” you told him, cradling his cheek with your hand. you could see the crack in his hard exterior, the way his blue eyes showed the depths of his soul. you could see glimpses of baby joey, the anxiety that ran deep, that threatened to take hold.

when joe looked at you, that anxiety slithered away. it tucked its tail and ran; you were his god given solace. he felt at home, he felt the warmth and the safety that radiated off of you.

“what did i do to deserve you?” he asked, melting into your touch.

“absolutely nothing,” you replied. you took his hand, guiding him back to the couch. you sat down, resting your back against the arm rest. you didn’t have to offer him, joe just found himself laying against your chest, his arms wrapped around you. you wrapped your arms around him, kissing the top of his head and threading your fingers through his frosted tips.

“i’m so proud of you, you know that?” you asked.

“i do,” he replied. he melted into you, relaxing against the feeling of your fingers against his scalp and your steady heartbeat in your chest.

“panthers don’t stand a chance,” he mumbled against your chest, making you laugh.

“show em who’s boss, baby,” you chuckled. joe would always come home to you, which wasn’t always physically. sure, home was a place, but it was also a person. you were his home, and he was home as long as he was with you.

i wrote this in one sitting!!! it took some editing and some rethinking, but i’m pretty proud of it! this may not be totally accurate joe but whatevs. enjoy this lovely, angsty piece!

#joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagines #joe burrow #nfl imagine #joe burrow imagine

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as-is-above-so-below · 2 years ago

Text

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: mentions of violence and death (ofc), blood Next >>

John Price stood at a round table, leading the mission brief for the team’s upcoming operation. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz sat around the table in various positions. Soap with his boots kicked up onto the table, chair tilted back; Gaz leaned forward onto the table, his forearms on the surface; Ghost leaned back against his chair, arms crossed over his chest. Soap and Gaz wore their regulation tan t-shirts and camo pants, while Ghost was clad in a black long-sleeve and his standard skull balaclava.

“So if we’re stormin’ the building, we’re all accounted for,” Soap pointed out, clicking the pen between his fingers. “We need a sniper.”

“Called in a favor with a good friend, who should have been here–”

“Ten minutes ago,” a strong but mellow voice cut in as a figure turned through the doorway. “I know, sorry John. Got a bit caught up with my room assignment. Tried to put me on the other side of base.”

A woman came into view, offering her hand out to John. They firmly grasped each other’s forearms in a quick shake. Soap and Gaz both had only slightly surprised expressions. Not at the fact that their sniper was female; they’d worked with plenty of fierce women during their time in Task Force 141.

The fact that she did not look the part.

She wore a massively oversized black sweatshirt that brushed her thighs and dark blue skinny jeans, her hair loose down her back. Must’ve just got off a plane, Soap thought to himself, looking her up and down. Her stance showed her confidence, feet shoulder-width apart as she faced the team with a bright smile (one not often found in their field of work) and glowing skin. She wasn’t necessarily small, more average height, but her attire dwarfed her frame.

“Thank you for joining us, Captain,” Price nodded at her. “This is Freyja. American Special Forces, sniper, undercover ops. She’s been briefed and will be joining us temporarily for the op. She comes highly recommended and outranks all of you, so I’d suggest you be on your best behavior.”

The woman jabbed Price with her elbow, rolling her eyes, much to Soap’s surprise. He barely suppressed the laugh that bubbled in his chest, unable to help the small choking laugh that escaped. Ghost glared at him and he quickly piped down.

“Thanks, John, but I think I’ll be fine. Glad to be of use.”

“Happy to have you. Let me know if you need anything while you’re here. I’ll leave you to it, get acquainted. We leave at 0400 hours. We’ll be infiltrating in daylight; prepare accordingly.”

“Aye, Captain,” Soap nodded once and saluted him, setting his chair back down as he rose. He watched John pat her shoulder on his way out, sharing what seemed like a knowing look, before finally departing to his quarters. Interesting.

Soap was the first to cross the room, taking her hand in a firm grip. “Pleasure to meet you, Captain. Sergeant John Mactavish,” he introduced, shaking her hand. He noted her equally firm grip and the cool metal of a wedding band pressing into his palm. Her skin was calloused yet soft, not as rough as his own.

“Soap, right? Heard a lot about you.”

“Aye. Good things I hope?"

“Mostly.”

A boisterous laugh left him, so loud you’d think the room shook. Soap heard Gaz gag on his water before breaking into a choked wheeze. The other man approached, shaking her hand as well. “Kyle Garrick, call me Gaz.”

Her hands found their way into the pockets of her sweatshirt.

“So, Freyja… like the–?”

A gentle, airy giggle floated into his ears. What a lovely sound. “Yes, like the goddess. I know, my husband’s idea.”

Soap groaned, his head lolling back in faux agony as he pressed a hand to his chest. “You’re breakin’ my heart, lass. Was hopin’ ya didn’t have one’a those. He in the service?”

“He is, but you wouldn’t know him. Keeps a pretty low profile,” she shrugged, keeping her eyes on the two men in front of her.

”D’ya think I could take him?”

”Probably not.”

Neither Soap nor Gaz noticed the way Ghost’s mask twitched slightly, evidence of the smirk that pulled at his lips. But she knew his microexpressions like the back of her hand, even out of the corner of her eye. The Scot remembered Ghost’s presence suddenly and waved his hand in his direction. He hadn’t made any move to greet the newcomer and hadn’t spoken during the entire brief.

“Steamin’ Jesus, Ghost, you heard the man. Be nice to the lady!”

Ghost grunted, keeping his arms folded on his chest. “Captain.”

“Lieutenant.”

The two stared at each other, her brow quirked. As the seconds passed, the interaction became increasingly awkward for everyone else in the room. Even the thickest person on the planet could have sensed the tension. Unable to take the silence any longer, Gaz stepped in to attempt to relieve some tension. “You two worked together before?”

“You could say that,” Ghost stated as he rose from his chair. “A word, Freyja?”

Her tongue poked at the inside of her cheek and she squinted at him. It was almost comical, the height difference between the two. Typically, Soap would have made a snarky quip, if not for the vicious look in her eyes. He wouldn’t say it out loud to him, but the scowl rivaled his lieutenant‘s. Finally, she spoke, “Excuse us, gentlemen. I’ll see you in the morning. You know where to find me in the meantime.”

“G’night, Cap,” Soap nodded and moved to the side, allowing her to pass to the door. Ghost didn’t spare them another glance as he followed behind her. The two men stood silently until they heard a door slam shut up the hall. Soap snapped his gaze to Gaz and found him already looking with wide eyes.

“What was that about?”

Soap shrugged noncommittally. “Not a clue. Bad history? Ghost’s no’ exactly skilled in manners.” He went to head to his room when he noticed a military-issue duffel where Freyja had been standing, an American flag patch on the side. He bent down and slung it over his shoulder. “Left her stuff. I’m gonna drop it by ‘for hittin’ the hay. See ya in the mornin’.”

They went their separate ways, Gaz disappearing to the armory to stock up for the mission. Soap approached the only spare room in their wing and rapped his knuckles against the door. He waited for a few beats to no response and repeated the motion.

Nothing.

Soap’s brows furrowed when he heard what sounded like a muffled argument from the next door up, labeled “Lt. Riley”. Soap should have just left her duffel in front of her door and continued on his way to his bedroom, and gone to bed.

But no, he just had to snoop.

He crept toward the door, still holding the bag as he pressed his ear to the hollow wood. They clearly knew each other, but Ghost hadn’t seemed happy to see her. He felt a bit guilty spying on his lieutenant, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. He heard Ghost’s deep voice first.

“We had a deal. You’re supposed to be on leave, and Price knows that. I have half a mind to wring his fucking neck–”

“John didn’t ask me to be here, I volunteered–”

“Cut the shit, Y/N. I’m not daft. He has no place calling you in without asking me first.”

“I don’t take orders from you, Simon!”

Simon? Just how familiar were they with each other?

“Oh, I’m well aware. I just figured that when your husband asks you to stay home, you'd listen! How silly of me!”

So he knows her husband. Interesting.

“That’s not fair, and you know it.”

“You want to talk about fair? You went around my back to my Captain. I’d say anything’s fair play at this point.” Heavy boots crossed the floor. “This isn’t just about you anymore. You’re not my superior, you’re–”

Soap shuffled his feet, he realized too late how loud the noise was in the empty hallway, and the voices suddenly stopped. He knocked in an attempt to recover, quickly stepping back from the door before it opened. The woman appeared, now in a too-big band tee, her dog tags resting on her chest. “Hi, Johnny,” she greeted, her tone significantly warmer than it had been a moment ago.

He didn’t remember mentioning his preference for the name, but he couldn’t find a reason to comment on it then. “You, uh, left ya bag. Wanted to drop it off, figured you’d be here.”

“Oh, my bad. Thanks, I appreciate it.” He transferred her possessions to her. The bag that appeared standard when he carried it looked huge compared to her frame. The added weight did not phase her. “We have an early morning. I’m heading to bed.”

Ghost moved from his spot near the bed on the other side of the room. “Frey–”

She held a hand up, sending another chilling glare in his direction. Soap was impressed when Ghost didn’t even blink at the look. “Enough, Lieutenant. That’s an order.” He didn’t miss the eyes behind the skeleton glowering or how the fabric near his mouth shifted.

“Yes, ma’am,” he growled through clenched teeth.

She brushed by Soap, readjusting the bag on her shoulder as she stormed to her room, somehow gracefully maintaining her posture. Before he could turn back to question Ghost, the door swung shut in his face.

Real polite.

~*~

“Alpha-One, in position.”

“Copy that, one. Alpha-Two, in position.”

“Bravo?” Soap’s partner looked over his shoulder at the white light flashing at them in the distance. There was a muffled choking sound and a swallow, followed by a sniffle. “Freyja?”

“Sorry. Multiple armed guards. Two snipers at the east and west sides of the targets.” Her voice, while calm, sounded tired and a bit drained. As if she could sense the unspoken question, she came through their headsets again. “Little sick this morning. I’m fine.”

Ghost's jaw set and he rolled his shoulders, blinking a few times to focus. Soap noticed the motion and covered the mic on his headset. “You a’right, Lt.?” he asked, his voice concerned with his brows furrowed.

Ghost ignored him. “Can you get a visual inside?”

“Negative. Windows are blocked in both buildings. You’re going blind.”

“What’s the call, ma’am?” Gaz’s voice.

“This is Price’s op. I’m just here for support.”

“Ghost?” Price this time.

Ghost audibly sighed, his irritation at the situation clear. Soap wondered how bad their last encounter could have been for the usually collected man in front of him to be so disheveled. Soap looked over at the lieutenant, who had turned his attention back to the opening in the wall between them. “Bravo, hold your position. Understood?”

“Affirmative.”

“Alpha-One, move in on your target on my command.” Ghost clicked off his mic and slid the chamber back on his pistol, doing one final check.

Soap took the opportunity to follow up on his unanswered concern. “Ghost, you good? Seem tense. Something going on with the lass?”

“Shut up, Sergeant.” He reached up to click his headset back on. “Freyja cleared hot to engage.”

“Standby.” A beat passed, then another, until the suppressed shot of a sniper rifle rang through their headsets, followed by the bolt being pulled back and pushed forward. Another shot. “Clean hit. Snipers down.”

“Copy. Alpha-One, move in. Keep it quiet,” Ghost commanded, signaling Soap forward with a tilt of his head.

She watched Ghost and Soap move swiftly around structures and cars forward to their target. Her gaze periodically adjusted between them and Alpha-One, Gaz and Price. Soap’s accent was low in her ear. “Approaching target. Engaging two hostiles.”

The pair dispatched the guards with ease, the same as the other team up the road.

“Be advised, I have no eyes inside,” she reminded the group, surveying the surrounding area as both teams entered the building.

“Roger. Breaching.”

On their frequency, angry shouts and gunfire had her writing uncomfortably in her spot. She didn’t like not having a solid visual of her team; it made her feel helpless. The audio of the scene inside wasn’t helping her nerves (or nausea) much, either. The sniper was almost lost in her thoughts when she caught movement at the edge of her scope up the street.

Reinforcements.

“Ghost, engaging incoming hostiles. You might want to bug out,” she suggested, taking several shots at the armed men back-to-back. “Alpha-One, sound off.”

“Heard. Intel acquired,” Price acknowledged. “Clearing out.”

“Alpha-Two, how copy?”

The radio crackled once before Soap came through. “Copy, I’ve lost visual on Ghost. Got separated in the firefight,” he grunted, still firing shots inside the building. “‘M gonna have to squirt.”

Something wasn’t right. “Ghost, how copy?”

Silence.

“Lieutenant, what’s your status?”

Her skin crawled at the repeated silence. “Fuck.” She took a deep breath and pulled her knees underneath her body, her stomach suddenly stilling, nausea disappearing. “Abandoning post.” Her voice pierced through their radios with urgency. She abandoned her rifle and made her way down from her perch.

“Absolutely not. We’re converging at the meeting point now.” Price cursed under his breath as she brandished her sidearm and sprinted towards Ghost’s last location. “Stand down, Bravo, that’s an order!” The captain commanded, rough and authoritative.

“All due respect, Price, get bent.”

Price and Gaz watched helplessly as she disappeared into the structure, Soap approaching them from their flank. “The absolute balls on that one, aye?” he snickered, eyeballing Price. He didn’t even flinch, expression hard as steel as he rubbed his face. He hadn’t seen his captain that stressed in quite a while. Maybe not the time for jokes…

The blood-curdling screams Soap heard would scare any man straight. It sounded like a horror movie slaughterhouse over their comms, whether it was caused by Ghost or Freyja he didn’t know. He did know it was her voice that said Ghost’s name and assumed the distant, heated mumbling was Ghost. He must have lost his headset if they couldn’t hear him clearly, and what they were hearing was whatever her comms picked up. “Shut the fuck up and move. If you were fine, I wouldn’t be here, Lieutenant. You can thank me later,” she snapped, sounding eerily similar to a stereotypical angry wife. There’s no way she cleared out that entire convoy on her own…

Right?

Moments later, without any other gunfire, the pair emerged. Ghost was indeed missing his headset, while Freyja trudged in front of him, taking long steps to cross the street. Her helmet was gone, and her hair had come loose. Gun in one hand, a familiar black combat knife in the other, dripping blood. Strands of hair clung to her face, coated in dark red, along with her hands, bare arms, and vest. Soap’s eyes blew wide. “Steamin’ bloody Jesus, did she–?”

Price hummed and nodded beside him. In the same breath, she stumbled over to a car and gripped the door handle, dumping her stomach on the dusty road. Soap and Gaz moved to help, but Price stopped them with a single grunt. Ghost was immediately on her, expertly sweeping her hair into one hand as he pulled her earpiece out, cutting off their audio. One of her hands grabbed his vest for support while his other hand rested on her back.

“Well, that’s unusual,” Soap chimed, his head cocked to the side as he watched the display.

“Quit starin’ and load up. I doubt that’s the last of those reinforcements.” Price waved at them, catching Ghost’s attention and pointing to an approaching Heli, waving his hand in a “roll out” motion.

~*~

The ride back to base in the heli was one of the most awkward experiences of Soap’s life; not a word was spoken during the short trip. Ghost pulled a rag out of his vest and silently handed it to Freyja to wipe some blood from her face; she passed him the blade she had carried, and he finally placed its familiarity when Ghost tucked it into the empty holster at his hip. She looked utterly drained now that they were in close quarters. In another shocking moment, she rested her head on Ghost’s shoulder, and he didn’t move to shove her off.

What the fuck?

At the base, Ghost dropped her off at the medical bay before storming into the meeting room where the team had gathered to debrief. “You’re a dead man, Price,” he barked, finger jabbed at him as his skull plate skittered across the table when he threw it. “You fuckin’ knew–”

“Simon, I’m sorry–”

“Don’t “Simon” me. Sorry’s not gonna cut it, Captain! If she’s hurt–”

“I didn’t think she would compromise herself that easily.”

Ghost barked a dry, humorless laugh as he pointed in the general direction of the infirmary. “Of course, she’s bloody compromised! She’s my fuckin’ wife, you git!” he snarled, teeth viciously bared as he ripped off his mask.

“Hell’s fuckin’ bells…”

“Bloody hell…”

He was too angry (and, frankly, scared for his wife’s health) to acknowledge their audience. “This is exactly why I told you not to call her. I can’t focus if I’m worried about her safety right now. She’s supposed to be safe at home, resting, not running into a bloody warzone, for God’s sake!”

“She was told not to leave her post–”

“When has she ever obeyed a direct order?”

Silence fell over the group, Price effectively losing the argument. Neither Sergeant wanted to find themselves on the other end of Ghost’s rage. They had no envy for Price and dared not get between them. No envy at all. On the other hand, Soap had so many questions. Since where was Ghost married? When did he have the time for a wife? And an American at that? How long had he been keeping her a secret?

“Simon.”

Four heads whipped to the soft voice across the room, finding the woman of the hour standing in the doorway. A superficial cut on her forehead had been taped up, her face clear of blood. Soap and Gaz stared at her in disbelief, jaws dropped as they looked from her to Ghost and back again. She chuckled at their expressions but didn’t move to approach them. “Captain Riley. Lovely to meet you both, officially,” she reintroduced herself, a slight smirk on her lips. She finally met her husband’s gaze, her expression softened at his bare face, save for the black paint.

He curled two fingers at her, one arm crossed over his chest. “C’mere. Now,” he ordered her, though his tone had little bite to it.

Even only knowing the sniper for such little time, Soap was outright shocked at the display. Flabbergasted by her obedience when she immediately strode to the spot next to him, barely leaving any space between their chests. It didn’t seem like her. He was obviously wrong, considering what he’d just witnessed.

Ghost took a deep breath as he peered down at her, examining her visible skin for injuries. “I’m right pissed at you, love,” he muttered, allowing her to loop a finger in his belt loop.

She smiled up at him, her admiration clear now that the sergeants had been let in on the secret. “I know.”

“Don’t give me that look.” The man sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes. He knew he couldn’t hold his ground with that smile of hers. He dropped a gloved hand to rest on her lower belly, rubbing the spot with his thumb. “You alright?”

She placed her hand on top of his and bobbed her head. Her familiar glow from the night before had returned.

“I’d like an apology.”

“And I’d like a parade in my honor. Oh, and a good ol’ fashioned fu–”

“Oi, better watch that fuckin’ mouth of yours.”

“You love my mouth.”

“Tha’ I do. Just not right now, sweetheart.”

Soap couldn’t take it anymore. “Steamin’ blood Jesus L.t., are you…flirting?”

“Shamelessly,” she giggled, never once tearing her eyes away from the man towering over her.

Ghost rolled his eyes again, his other hand slipping into its home on the side of her neck. “You’re done. I mean it. And if you call her again, I walk,” he threatened, turning his head to address Price directly. “Don’t think I won’t.”

“Ghost, she held her own just fine,” Soap interjected from his chair. “Hen took out an entire squad practically single-handedly, plus the convoy before she went in after ya. I don’t see the problem.”

Realization dawned on Gaz suddenly, forcing him to his feet again. “You’re pregnant,” he exclaimed, both in shock and awe. “That’s why you were feeling sick. And the big clothes. You’re on maternity leave."

The lack of response from John and Freyja and how Ghost studied Gaz said everything they needed to know.

“No wonder you’ve been downright crabbit with her! Can’t say I blame ye, ‘s too dangerous out there to be mucking about with a little one in there.” Soap rose to his feet too, smiling like a cheeseball, ready to ruthlessly tease him. “How’d you manage that, Ghost? A bangin’ wife and a baby?”

“I know it’s been a while for you, Sarge–”

“Aw, away n’ bile yer heid!” the Scot barked, dismissing his lieutenant with a wave.

“English, MacTavish.”

“Sorry, sir, let me translate…Go fuck yourself.”

“Much better.”

He moved on from Ghost, addressing Freyja now. “I’ve so many questions! How long ‘ave you been together?” Soap leaned against the round table in front of them, his hands dragging across the shaved portion of his head.

“How old am I?” Ghost asked in a low, teasing timber.

Her upper lip tugged upwards as her hand wavered, indicating an estimate. “Five years, give or take.”

“Five years?! Son of the god-damn-devil, Lt! You’ve had a secret wife for five years–” He cut himself off with a gasp, his volume dropping to a brash whisper. “Does he take the mask off when you—”

“Tha’ll do, Johnny.”

Her bubbly laugh filled the room, and she swatted his tactical vest with her palm. “Si, don’t be an ass,” she warned, raising a brow at him. “Oh, John! I have pictures for you!” The woman let go of her husband and dug out folded ultrasound photos from her zipped pocket. She, Price, and Gaz moved to another corner of the room, gushing over the snapshots of her latest appointment before flying out, leaving Soap and Ghost alone by the meeting table.

A mischievous grin overtook Soap’s face. “An American, eh, Lt.? And she outranks you?”

“Not another word, Sergeant.”

A long pause stretched between them, although not long enough for Ghost’s liking.

“So… Goddess of love, beauty, and war,” he inquired, raising an eyebrow at the Brit, who threw him a questioning side-eye. Soap hummed. “Fitting.”

Soap almost gawked at the smirk (borderline smile) that Ghost bore as he watched his wife animatedly pour over her photos. “I’m well aware.” Another moment passed between them before Ghost fully turned to the other man. “Johnny?”

“Yeah, Ghost?"

“Flirt with my wife again, I’ll knock your teeth in."

"Noted, sir."

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