#you must look into the mirror and decide

[sweetm0uringlamb]

2 days till november 5th

[beeholyshit]

thinking about baby Pastelito wiwiw...

[todayisafridaynight]

the only real major difference between rgg and y7 arakawa's wardrobe is how he wears his coat + bling and the scarf but it's such a difference

[sixthcrane]

today could not be a worse day to wear knee high boots and trousers (temperature is hot and weather is humid) but i just couldn’t resist an opportunity to look like a horse rider on a friday

[nezuscribe]

(previous part)

it's been a week since you've spoken to arranged!gojo, and he feels like he's about to start going crazy.

you don't speak during your meals, not even when he addresses you in a question. sometimes you spare him a glance, but he'd still rather see your icy glare than see nothing at all.

and he knows he fucked up. he knows that you seeing him alone with anya was perhaps the worst possible place you could’ve caught him, but he's been almost begging you to listen to him, to hear his side. but every time he goes to explain you leave abruptly, leaving him alone, feeling the looks of pity from those around the two of you.

and you know you're being petty. after all, the two of you are only bound by words, nothing else. if anything, the two of you were just becoming friends, so this shouldn't hurt you as much as it does.

but you hear the whispers of the ladies, hear of their secret proposals of how gojo would surely bed them if they just asked. how miserable he must be trapped with you, how this marriage is ruining his life. and you know anya, know about her history with him. before you were his wife you were the higher echelon wallflower, listening to all the gossip, observing from afar.

you've gathered some ideas in your head as to why he might want to speak with you. perhaps he wants to gently break the news that he's found a mistress, one that he actually loves. or that maybe he's already had one and now you know why he's been so secretive.

so the more he tries to talk to you, the more you pull away. you don't know why he cares so much, why this even matters to him. if anything, you feel like he should be content with your silence.

but he's not, and gojo grows more restless by the hour.

he decides he can't live like this anymore. tonight he's going to make you listen to him, even if you want nothing to do with him.

you're holed up in your room, talking with alina as she dabs lavender oil on your neck before you go to sleep. you know she knows about your silence with gojo, but ever friend, she does nothing to bring it up.

well, she wouldn't have to if he didn't come knocking feverishly at your door.

you watch in your mirror as she peeks her head out, her gasp of surprise causing a sinking pit to form in your stomach. you can hear how she scrambles with the titles of my lord, how she explains that you're nearly about to go to sleep.

it's late, the only light is the flickering of the candles on your nightstand. he should be asleep by now.

gods, you wonder for the millionth time this week, why does he care so much?

alina finishes up, closing the door slightly as she turns to you, her eyes finding yours in the mirror.

"i'm sorry my lady," she bows her head almost apologetically, "but my lord wants to talk to you. he's requested me to leave...if you'll excuse me," she bows, quickly leaving, not giving you any time to actually excuse her. you know she can't stay any longer, but you do wish she put up more of a fight. you watch her skirt bustle away, the door being left slightly ajar.

you try to act nonchalant, continuing to dab the oil onto your wrists as you look down, even when you hear the door click shut, even when you can feel his presence several feet behind you.

you sigh through your nose, heat rising to your cheeks.

"what?" you bite out, your own voice shocking you. you want to get this over with, not too desperate to hear about how he's ready to take on a mistress and shun you away.

you can hear him take in a deep breath, your eyes briefly looking up in the mirror to catch his, the same ones that make your knees weak, and avert your gaze.

"you haven't spoken to me in over a week," he says after a beat of silence.

you shrug indifferently, despite the fact that he could probably ask you the specific amount of hours it's been since the two of you had talked and you'd give an accurate number.

"i've been busy," you murmur, taking your earrings off as you place them gently in the little glass bowl to the side.

he doesn't say anything about your blatant lie, just nods slowly, as if he understands.

"i missed hearing you talk," gojo tells you quietly, almost as if his voice had been stuck in his throat, and you wonder if any man before him had ever tried to sweet talk his wife before he told her about his new mistress.

you don't say anything, still refusing to look at him as you stand up from your seat, turning off one of the candles near you as you smooth out some of the wrinkles of your nightgown.

"is this what you really want to tell me gojo?" you say bluntly, looking to the side momentarily, getting a longer look at his bulky figure, how he tries to make himself seem smaller, "that you miss my stupid jokes and dull stories?"

"they're not stupid," he quickly cuts in, his voice a little stronger, brows furrowed, "and i like your stories."

you roll your eyes, moving around the bed, to the side where he's not, and fluff your pillows. you've never found this useful, but it gives you something to do with your hands other than fidgeting with them.

truth be told, you're reflecting. you're scared of what it is he has to say, and so you try to appear stronger, and less caring, despite the fact that it's tearing you apart.

you try not to feel self-conscious of the fact that this is his first time ever seeing your room, or the fact that it's so bland. you didn't come to this estate with many things, and so you've tried to spruce up the space as much as you can, but aside from the few flowers and paintings on the wall, you fear it looks bland compared to everything else he's seen.

"and no," gojo adds, running a hand through his already tousled white hair as his arms crossed over his chest, and you finally allow yourself to stare at him, "that's not all i wanted to say."

he paused for a second.

"i don't know why i followed her out, or why i even stayed to hear her speak, but she kept saying these things about..." he trails off, gnawing on his lips as your eyes narrow slightly.

"me?" you finish for him, and his eyes dart to yours.

gojo nods a little bit, arms bulging a little bit as if remembering what she had said.

"i'm used to people staring at me, i lived with it my entire life. but with you, people..." he struggles to find words, "people stare longer. and i don't know why."

you raise a brow.

"do you want me to explain?" you say and he looks at you briefly, almost in a brazen way.

he shakes his head as if he had steered off track.

"that's beside the point. what i wanted to tell you is that she...she was saying some nonsense and i was about to leave until she offered for me to stay at the hostelry she was at." his blue eyes are wavering, his finger itching to get closer to you. this stupid bed is in the middle of you two and he wishes it were gone.

your breathing hitches a little bit, and you hope he doesn't see the sad tilt on your lips.

"so i banished her. or, well, i guess you saw her and then i banished her, but i would've done it regardless," he explains hurriedly, "look, i'm sorry...really sorry. if you want me to-"

"you banished her?" you cut him off, voice raised slightly in confusion.

his mouth gapes open for a second, and then blinks slowly, nodding.

"of...course," he tilts his head, his gorgeous head, slightly "you know that i am married, right? to you? she was offering to-"

"i thought you were going to tell me that you slept with her. o-or i don't know! that you were going to make her your mistress or something!" you spew out, your voice raised as you pace around the floor, moving a little bit closer to him as his eyes widen.

"why would you ever think that?" gojo says in a panicked tone, nothing like the man who commanded the northern army, but more like somebody who was watching his world burn in front of him.

"why?" you exclaim, shocked, "why? are you daft? every single woman wants to sleep with you! every single time we host those dinners, o-or we go to those parties, they look at you and they look at me and they pity you. i hear the whispers of the ladies, how they wouldn't mind being the other woman."

gojo hears the way your voice wavers, how your lips tremble, and the way you try not to let your bottom lip quiver. he sees the way you try to stay strong, to keep your image unbridled, but right now he feels like he's watching you break and he doesn't know what to do.

"so? what makes you think i'd do anything with them?" gojo argues, his voice raised a little bit, not in shouting, but in genuine disbelief.

you take a moment to step back and observe his behavior, and a nagging voice in your head tells you that he's telling you the truth. that he's concerned and worried, that maybe all he came to tell you tonight was an apology.

but that can't be correct.

so you sigh, your arms crossed over your chest protectively.

"i...i don't know," you murmur, "you sleep in another wing, you're always away. i thought...maybe..." you can't meet his eyes, fidgeting with the ring on your finger.

gojo takes a step forward, lips parted, cheeks rosy and flushed.

the two of you don't say anything for a minute, his chest heaving up and down. you feel like there's a weight both removed and added onto your shoulder.

"why didn't you say anything?" he whispers, "did you think...did you think i was...?" he can't finish the sentence, the words themselves too gruesome.

he doesn't say anything as he takes another tentative step closer.

you watch him, your eyes mirroring one another.

"i made a vow to you," his voice is heavy, traveling across the spanning stone walls, going deep into your bones, "and even if you prefer me to be your friend, i'll keep to that vow till the day i die."

your eyes gloss over, lips trembling.

you don't say anything, taking a couple steps forward as you smash against his chest, face crumpling against the stone wall of his torso as you hug him tightly, hoping that he can't feel the tears that seep through his nightshirt.

never in your life has somebody made a promise to you. and never in your life has somebody kept to that promise.

"thank you," you murmur, your voice muffled as his arms wrap around your body, steady and strong.

"and anyways, i'd prefer to be married to you than those miserable women any day," he mumbles into your hair and you laugh wetly, squeezing your arms tighter.

"really?" you say, tears blurring your vision.

"really," he hums, not able to say anything because he fears what you'd say if he told you that he'd rather be your husband and your friend. but he'd keep that inside, respecting your wishes.

if only he knew you wished the same.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: NSFW, dubcon, bathroom sex, bullying, overall just really filthy smut, virgin insert, virginity loss, somewhat dom reader, somewhat bully reader, somewhat yandere reader

♡ FEM reader

You look like one of those girls that never smiles. Like, if he were to take that empty seat next to you in the lecture hall, you’d scowl with stink eyes and then proceed to fully ignore him. Yeah, a real bitch. That's what you look like—scary. He bets all your socials are filled with the same picture—the same deadpanned pouty face over and over, every single one with hundreds of likes and comments saying “Wow, babe!” followed by a dozen emojis from besties and horny admirers. Selfies in the mirror, showing off skin in your tight tops and short skirts—similar to the outfit you’re wearing now. Captions saying, “You can look, but you could never touch.” Yeah, he bets you’re a real attention whore. And the worst part is that you’re not even overselling, either. You’re gorgeous—even with that sour look on your face, he’d pay cold, hard-earned cash in exchange for a pair of your worn panties.

Yeah, there’s no way he’d dare sit next to you. He’s already sweating bullets just thinking about it. Even though you’re one in a million similar girls who wouldn’t give him the time of day, he's still one in a million loser incels who would do anything for it. And that’s the cold reality.

Even if he’d like to get just a whiff of your sweet perfume, he can’t. The status quo forbids it. He’s afraid the jocks will smell fresh blood in the water the moment he does, then swarm him in a matter of seconds, circling before tearing him to shreds. They’d beat him to a pulp in the bathroom, smash his head in over the sink—piss in the toilet, then flush it down with his bloodied face—and he’d have to walk reeking of it all the way home.

So, no—he really can’t sit next to you. 

But no other seats are available, and the lecture is starting soon… 

Why did absolutely everyone decide to show up today?

Oh fuck it, this isn’t high school. College bullies surely don’t bother with petty cases like this, right? They’re all about their frat initiations and rivalries to have enough spare time to beat him up over improper seating. Oh, but what if you’re one of their girlfriends—you’ll tell on him, and then he’ll definitely be beaten up, maybe even killed.

No. He’s overthinking—like always. No one is that mean. If you don’t like him sitting there, you’ll just tell him. And he’ll move. No harm done. Right? He’s not sitting in the stairwell when there’s a perfectly good and empty seat right there, right? Is he?

Yes. Yes, he is. 

“Hey, if you’re looking for a seat, this one’s empty,” a sweet voice calls out over his inner monologue, making him clutch the strap of his bookbag tighter with a flinch of his entire rigid body—his eyes peeled as he looked around to try and find the source of the sound even though he knew where it had come from. It’s as if the possibility of your voice sounding like anything aside from a she-demon was out of the question. But no, it is you. 

But there’s no way you’re talking to him, so he looks around again—there must be someone else in need of the seat aside from him. But then, why are you looking right at him? Are you pulling some type of prank? Are you really that cruel? You’re probably filming him or something—live-streaming—the chat’s blaring with ew, what a creep and omg, uggo alert right about now. He should just go home before the jocks, along with the rest of the internet, can get him.

“Are you okay?” you ask—but no, he must be hearing you wrong—there’s just no way, even though you’re looking right at him. “I think it’s starting soon—you should probably sit.”

It’s as if his fight or flight response is broken because he does the exact opposite of either—as if on autopilot, sitting down in a rush against his better judgment.

The lecture starts shortly, solidifying his choice, but he can’t pay attention. No, he needs to keep his guard up. Any second now, someone’s going to do a drive-by and throw a milkshake at him or something vile of the like, and you’ll have filmed it all even though he can’t spot you holding a phone—and then the entire hall would burst into laughter at his expense.

“Pst—” A soft whisper comes from next to him, from between the gloss of your pretty lips. You smell like candy and fruit, and it makes his gut tighten—both from anxiety and something more shameful. “I’m sorry to bother you, but do you have a pen I could borrow? Mine’s all out’a ink.”

You give him an awkward smile, and he very nearly runs away. But no, he’s glued to the seat—with nervously wrecked hands shaking as he bends for his bag and unzips it, reaching for his pencil case painfully slow as if disarming some type of bomb. Redoing the same when he opens the case and rummages for a viable pen he could offer.

When he hands it to you, he’s almost sure you plan to stab him with it. But you do no such thing.

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver!” You cheer instead, beaming with a much brighter smile than before. “I owe you!”

His ears ring with your praise. Blushing beat red as he rips away from your gaze—still unable to focus on what the professor is preaching—not when from out of the corner of his eye, he can see you sucking on his pen like a lollypop—or something else not so innocent.

Oh, he’d been so wrong.

So, so, so very wrong.

You do smile. You smile a lot, actually. You just have one of those faces that rests bitchy. But still, bubbly airhead or not, a girl like you still shouldn't be seen with a loser like him. It’s social suicide. And still, you’re on your knees before him in a dirty little bathroom stall—the same dirty bathroom stall he feared getting a swirlie, scraping the walls with his nails to try and thwart his assailants—only, now clutching the walls for a much different reason, holding on for his mortal soul as you seek to suck it out of his fat throbbing cock.

You want to repay him—you’d said—for the pencil. He hadn't understood why you’d winked at him before you’d all but dragged him off and flung him inside the men’s bathroom, having his very life flash before his eyes.

You both make the sloppiest sounds as you make an utter mess on and of him, making him cry on all fronts—cock weeping with thick pearly beads of pre while his eyes well up with tears down his flushed face, all sweaty with panic and bliss. 

The moans springing from his chest are virginal and raw and sweet music to your ears, panting for you like a puppy—you’re sure they can hear him out in the hallway when passing by. One of his hands clasps itself on top of his mouth, holding tightly to keep it all within—eyes shut and brows cinched. And yet, he makes no effort to shove you off—hips left jerking and jittering in response to your refined technique where you take him deeply, all the way down to the base, hallowing your cheeks, throttling him with your throat as your tongue wipes his creamy slit clean.

It’s painfully clear he’s never experienced anything like it, but that’s what turns you on the most. Sick as you are, you could suck him dry and savor every drop of him, knowing you’re the first ever to get a taste. But no, by now, your pussy’s so soaked you feel yourself dripping past the soggy lace of your panties, running down your soft thighs in waste.

He’s misty-eyed when you pull off with an ever-cruel pop—a sick mix of relief and sorrow warping his chest, feeling conflicted by the pulse making him think he’s on the verge of a heart attack if you continue—and another strumming his cock, making him think he’s going to keel over and die if you leave him unfinished.

Even so, he’s in a state of complete shell shock as you mount him on top of the toilet seat he’s melting against. Chest heaving, watching you as you lift your skirt up and peal your slick underwear to the side for him to lay his bleary swiveled eyes on your bared and dripping pussy.

“I love nice guys like you—” you moan, pouring the honeyed words down his throat as you ghost his parted lips with your spit-slicked ones, straddling his lap and shimmying ever closer until your tits squish against his chest. “They make me so wet, I lose all self-control.” 

He gulps in your shadow, looking up at you for mercy—cock twitching painfully between your thighs as your wrap your hand around his base real snug, giving him a nice tug as you line him up with your needy heat—making him all but squeal beneath you.

Your other hand makes its way into his hair, braiding your fingers within the locks to hold him steady—gently pulling his head back while leering down at him like caught prey. Playing with him just so, teasing him with your words, all in your sultry voice, making his head spin hot with a fever, “You’ll be a good boy and fuck me, won’t you? Pretty please?”

His breaths are heavy and wet, coming out shaky with his instant answer, “Y-yes—” all weak in a pathetic whimper that almost has you cum too soon.

“You’re so nice~ thank you,” you croon against his lips, kissing him sloppily with your tongue in his mouth as you shift your hips and start lowering your sopping cunt down upon his seeking length, taking him in with greedy ease, eagerly gripping his soft cockhead like a toy in a claw machine.

“Fhu—fuck—” he stutters under his breath, whinging before planting his teeth into his lip to keep it at bay—feeling like putty beneath you, sweaty and heavy and dumb, eagerly wanting all which you sought to give him—only more flushed at your mean undertones as you play with him like food on a silver platter.

You sling your arms around his neck and push your chest harder against him, moaning all too brazenly, “Oh! Fuck yes—that’s so good,” you sing while slowly taking him in further. “A nice guy with a big bad bully’s dick is the best!” 

He whines in return as his inches get eaten—each devoured one by one until his tip kneads into the mouth of your womb.

Sighing happily, you kiss his cheek and put your lips right at his ear with another wanton whimper, “You fill me up so so good.” Roosting on the size, thighs resting flush against his, feeling all giddy as it stretches you out oh-so-nicely. “Such a good toy-cock for me,” keening at the way it twitches inside you, pulsing in response to your tight walls, clenching it in ways it’s never before felt.

His eyes are already rolling back into his skull once you start lolling your hips—riding him, but keeping him deep at all times—lifting just enough for it to pull out only a little before sinking back down, making it settle into that perfect needy little spot inside you that makes your whole body shiver in delight.

“Mmh,” You suck his ear lobe, releasing it with a soft bite, before smiling down at him and his sweat-pilled expression. Cooing at him, “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

He can’t even answer with words anymore, only giving a dumb mewl as he nods his head. But, of course, you’re already well aware.

“Mmh—” your eyes gleam with delight, giving his lap a mean ride, leaving him all but breathless, before asking, “D’you like it, virgin boy? ‘You like my pussy? Like the way it milks your chubby cock for your cum?”

He nods again, even more eagerly this time—looking downright pathetic in every sense of the word.

“Do you want to?” you offer to his desperation, feeling as though he’s falling apart at your fingertips, needing you to hold him together. “I’ll let you since you’re such a sweet guy—” you tease while clenching his cock, making it impossible to want anything else no matter the consequence. “In exchange for a favor, of course.”

He couldn’t care less what the favor was—way beyond willing to pay any price you ask of him as he finally makes a move and grabs your hips with a strength you hadn’t thought he had the balls to perform, planting you down firmly and holding you with such need as his hips jitter and stutter—resting his cheek on your shoulder in drool and tears with a lovesick groan leaving him as he fills your pussy up with his creamy spend.

His whole body shakes—spasming in cute little aftershocks as he clutches onto your body, hugging you tightly.

You respond in kind, cuddling him and kissing the top of his head. “That was so warm and filling—what a good boy—you did so well,” you murmur ever-sweetly while petting his head, combing through his sweaty locks with your long glitter-pink nails—keeping your voice saccharine. “Did you enjoy yourself, hm? Your first time cumming in pussy instead of your dirty ol’ sock?”

You pick his face up—cupping his sloppy jaw in both palms—his eyes half-mast and glazed as you nose-kiss him with a smile on your face.

“You loved it, didn’t you? Silly virgin boy…”

Your cunt tingles at the sight of him—wrecked beauty, sweaty and undone. You feel his cock unswell inside you and decide to lift off and release him—letting it flop out and splat on his tummy in a puddle of slick.

“Look,” you fuss, holding his face in direction of it. “You made such a pretty mess—isn’t it lovely?”

Your pussy is left glistening and puffy, still wanting and waiting for its final hurrah. Your breath turns headier and so does your voice, now with a new darkness to it as  you whisper, “Time for that favor, sweet boy.” 

He blinks dumbly, impossibly hopeless, wrapped so tightly around your pinky it’s pitiful. Of course, you take advantage—guiding his head to level with your cunt. 

“Open wide, tongue out flat.”

He obeys wordlessly. And oh god it makes your gut stir viscously—watching his tongue loll free between parted lips.

Your voice flares with bliss at the sight, shy of unhinged, as you giggle breathily, “That’s right—taste the pretty mess you made.”

He’s pushed face-first, trapped between your thighs with his jaw like an open cup beneath you, tonguing the mixed slick from your slit and slurping it all up without shame.

And fuck—it feels so good, you lose even more of your mind while tugging him even closer—all but pulling him off the toilet seat, making him kneel down on the floor instead. And still, he makes no effort to escape, but the opposite—seeking to go deeper into your cunt, crying into you as he laps up every last drop of yours and his arousal—making your thighs quake around him, grinding down against his mouth, onto his eager tongue, having it pet your clit over and over until you also come to the same sudden stumbling halt.

“Yes—yes! Oh, fuck! I’m gonna—it’s coming—”

And there it goes, ripping along your loins, surging from your lower belly. With both your hands tangled harshly in his hair, he’s not going anywhere, lips locked with yours as it starts pouring.

You’re squirting on him—hot and hard—on his tongue, inside his mouth, down his throat, in his belly. You’re squirting on him and he’s drinking it, he realizes—but even so, he isn’t able to stop. Instead, he unwinds his jaw even wider, digs his tongue deeper, and accepts every drop of the warm stream as it drenches his face and splashes down his collar and shoulders, utterly soaking his shirt, making in see-through as it clings to his chest like a second skin.

You’ve closed your eyes and thrown your head back, basking in every last little twitch of your body as you relieve yourself all over his face.

Finally, after a moment, you let go of his hair and step back—feeling refreshed and happy with your work—seeing the poor loser sit before the toilet, all drenched and exhausted with his limp cock spent and messy, looking like a beautiful wreck.

You smile, pulling your panties back in place, and you skirt down again before unlocking the stall and opening the door, only looking back at him for a moment, tapping your nail at a few matching pink scribbles written on the wall. “Here’s my number and address if you wanna have more fun." And then you leave, just like that. "Bye-bye~”

♡ BNHA – Amajiki, Deku, Shigaraki, Shinso ♡ JJK – Yuuta, Choso, Nanami ♡ HQ – Kageyama, Kenma ♡ CSM – Denji ♡ BLLK – Isagi ♡ DS – Zenitsu ♡ WB – Sakura, Nirei

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[sluttywonwoo]

fuck the neighbors

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f reader

summary: curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back- at least, that's what they say.

warnings: swearing, blood, asshole!wonwoo, mingyu is canonically a whore, light blasphemy, smut (18+ ; mdni)

smut warnings: hard dom!wonwoo, allusions to voyeurism, degradation, oral (f receiving), blood play?!?!? (just a little bit!!!), wap!reader, massive cock!wonwoo, choking, protected sex

word count: 3.3k

reader notes: reader is significantly shorter than ww + described to have long-ish hair

You’ve never felt as small as you do right now. Wonwoo looms over you, smirking. He isn’t even that much taller than you, you just seem to shrink into yourself when you’re around him, which seems to be happening more and more often lately. 

“Found you,” he whispers. 

“I... wasn’t hiding,” you say, your voice coming out in a squeak. 

“You know it isn’t nice to lie,” he chides, taking a step closer to you. You take a step backward in kind, only to be met with the cool concrete wall against your back. “It also isn’t nice to eavesdrop.”

“I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to,” you insist. 

Wonwoo tsks. “I don’t believe you. What did I just say about lying?”

“Well, it isn’t nice to be super loud all the time either!” you scoff. “You have neighbors, you know.”

The overhead light flickers. You and Wonwoo both stare at it, the inconsistent hum of electricity filling the silence before the light eventually decides to stay lit. You breathe a sigh of relief. You really needed to stop overlooking sketchy apartments for the sake of the rent, especially if you were going to have to deal with people like... him. 

Wonwoo cocks his head to the side. “What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean what am I talking about? Listen, I don’t care who you fuck but if you could be just a little quieter-”

Wonwoo cuts you off with a laugh. “That’s what this is about? That’s why you were snooping outside my apartment? What, were you hoping to catch a glimpse of her leaving or something?”

So you had been right... you’re not sure whether or not you’re happy about that. What you are sure of, though, is that you’re offended that you’re being accused of snooping. You open your mouth to defend yourself but stop short. 

“You’re bleeding,” is what you say instead. 

Wonwoo touches his lip, thumb brushing across the cut he must not have noticed until you mentioned it. He looks down at his fingers briefly then back up at you. 

“Come with me.”

“Wha- huh?”

“You want to know what’s so loud, right? So come on.”

You follow him blindly back down the hall to his apartment, the one right next to yours. You’re doing everything a final girl in a horror movie shouldn’t do, but you’re dying to know what’s been keeping you up at night. 

Wonwoo unlocks the door and stands aside to let you in first. With a gulp, you cross the threshold and slip off your shoes.  He does the same. 

The apartment is quiet, for once. It looks a lot like yours but mirrored. The kitchen is off to the right instead of the left. The half bathroom is on the wall opposite to yours, likely connected via plumbing.

The place is a lot cleaner than you expected too. It’s sparse, typical for a single guy, but still relatively well decorated. 

Wonwoo heads straight to the kitchen and turns on the sink. He wets a paper towel and dabs at his bottom lip, wincing as he cleans the wound.

“Why am I here?” you ask when he doesn’t offer an explanation. 

He doesn’t answer right away. Granted, the man was still bleeding but he’d dragged you here for a reason and now you were just standing in his kitchen. 

Eventually, he disposes of the paper towel, washes his hands, and walks across the living room without saying a word. You know he expects you to follow him but you almost don’t want to. You do follow him, you want to leave as fast as possible, but you consider it. 

He opens the door to what you know is a bedroom and points inside. You stare at him blankly. 

“What am I looking at?” 

“This isn’t my room,” he says. 

“What?”

“It’s my roommate’s.”

“You have a roommate?”

“I do. I have a roommate. He’s the one you share a wall with. He’s the one banging a different girl every night. Your issues are with him, not me.”

Now that you were thinking about it, you have seen a slightly taller, beefier man around the building. That must be who Wonwoo’s roommate is. He definitely had the face to pull all the girls Wonwoo was referring to. Not that Wonwoo didn’t-

“So take it up with him.”

You shake your head and purse your lips. “No, that doesn’t explain everything. I’ve heard your voice too. Unless you’re the one he’s banging...” you trail off, letting the implication hang in the air. 

“He’s not my type,” Wonwoo says flatly. 

“Okay, then what is it?”

“C’mere,” he says, moving along the wall to what you use as a breakfast nook in your apartment. 

In his, the space is empty save for a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. 

“You box?”

“It’s a hobby.”

“Is that why you were bleeding?”

“Yeah, I just got back from the gym.”

“And that’s what I’ve been hearing?”

“That’s what you’ve been hearing.”

You nod but don’t say anything else, half waiting for an apology that he doesn’t offer. He just leans against the wall with his arms crossed.

“Well, do you think you could practice your hobby before midnight? Or at least try to keep it down when you do?” you huff in annoyance.

He sighs like what you’re asking is the biggest inconvenience he’s ever been posed with but concedes.

 “I guess.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ll have to talk to Mingyu about his... hobby, though. Or get noise canceling headphones. That’s what I did.”

“Oh, okay.”

Silence stretches between you again, heightening the tension in the room. You don’t know what to do. Were you supposed to show yourself out now that you had your answers? Wonwoo isn’t giving you any indication that he wants you to leave but he isn't giving any indication that he wants you to stay either. 

You don’t have the time or energy to deal with this. You can’t read the man’s mind. No matter how hard he stares at you from across a room. With a definitive breath, you turn on your heel to head for the door just to be stopped by Wonwoo’s voice echoing behind you. 

“Are you disappointed?” 

You stop but don’t turn around. “What?”

“Are you disappointed that it isn’t me you’ve been hearing?” he clarifies. 

Heat rises to your cheeks. “Wh-what do you mean? Why would I be?”

You feel him approach from behind, his shadow closing in on you before he does. 

“Because it isn’t my voice you’ve been touching yourself to.”

“What?!” You do turn around this time, whipping around so fast your ponytail almost whacks Wonwoo in the face. 

“You don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me when I pass you in the hallway?”

You scoff, breathing a subtle sigh of relief. All he had to go off of was a look but if he had heard you through the wall, if he had that irrefutable evidence, it would definitely be over for you. “If that’s what you think lust looks like, I feel bad for all the girls you have slept with.”

“Resentment and lust have a very long history together,” he whispers. 

“You think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you?”

“But I’m right, aren’t I?”

You feign ignorance. “About what?”

“About you.” He measures you up with his gaze, something triumphant flashing behind his eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he presses. “Tell me you’ve never gotten off to the thought of me and I’ll drop it.”

You weigh your options. You could lie. You could save yourself the embarrassment and lie right to his face, although given your track record thus far he’d see right through it. Or, you could tell him the truth. You could admit to wishing you were the one in what you thought had been his bed all this time. 

You settle on silence and let him draw his own conclusion. A smirk tugs at one side of Wonwoo’s mouth. So he did think highly of himself. 

“I fucking knew it,” he murmurs. 

Before you can deny it, he straightens back up and starts walking toward the back of the apartment. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” he announces. 

You don’t move from where you’re standing, unsure of what he wants you to do. Was he hinting at you to leave? Was it an invitation? 

Wonwoo looks back over his shoulder at you. “Are you coming?” 

“Hopefully,” you mutter.

“Hm?”

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

-

The water is already running by the time you slip into the bathroom after Wonwoo. You watch quietly as he undresses, letting the door click shut gently behind you. It occurs to you that you should be taking your clothes off too but you can’t look away. 

Wonwoo’s kind enough to snap you out of it. “I didn’t ask you in here just to watch me.”

“You didn’t ask me in here at all,” you point out, “you just expected me to follow you.”

“And you did.”

Damn, he had you there. 

With a noise of indignation, you pop the button on your jeans and start to wiggle out of them, unable to bring yourself to look at him again now that you’re also exposed. You can feel his eyes on you, though. It has the same effect his presence always has on you, and you attempt to cover yourself with your hands.

“Shy?” he muses. “Cute.”

“Shut up,” you sputter.

You don’t think you’ve felt this self conscious since college and then he laughs at your response which does nothing to help.

“I can’t call you cute?”

“Not if you’re patronizing me.”

“How do you want me to say it, then?” he asks, sinking down to his knees on the floor in front of you. You stare at him in disbelief. “You want me to say it like this? Want me to tell you how cute, how pretty, I think you are, from down here? How pretty I think this pussy is?” Wonwoo leans forward as he talks, further and further until his hair is tickling your tummy and his lips are moving against your skin. “Spread your legs for me, baby,” he murmurs. 

You do, taking hold of the countertop so that you won’t fall as Wonwoo slots himself between your thighs. You take a deep breath to brace yourself for the feeling of his mouth but absolutely nothing could have prepared you for the way he presses a gentle kiss to your pussy before diving in. The softness of the action compared to everything that led up to this moment, compared to the way he was now drowning himself in you, is enough to make your knees threaten to give. Your grip on the counter tightens and you bite down hard on your bottom lip to keep from moaning out loud. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction, though you’re sure he already knows he’s got you right where he wants you.  

Wonwoo hitches one of your knees over his shoulder so that he can get even deeper inside of you with his tongue. He drinks you in, breathes you in, douses himself in you like he’s trying to baptize himself in order to atone for his sins.  

If this was his apology for all the noise, he’s forgiven ten times over. 

You can feel callouses on the palms of his hands as he traces them up your legs and over your ass, pulling you even further into him. The force of his grip causes you to stumble but he catches you before you can fall and helps you to regain your balance. 

“I’ve got you,” he assures you, backing you up into the sink. “Here, hop up on the counter.”

“What about the shower?” you ask, suddenly remembering that the water had been running this whole time. 

“Oh shit-”

Wonwoo turns around and reaches to turn it off, drying both his hand and his face with a towel that had been hanging on the wall. 

“Now, hop up on the counter.” 

“Are you sure?” you ask, glancing at all of the skin and hair care products scattered across it. 

Wonwoo pushes them out of the way then nods. 

“I’m sure. Mingyu won’t care, trust me. He’d be a hypocrite to.” 

You sigh but hoist yourself onto the counter anyway, too horny to worry about it any longer. Wonwoo steps in between your legs and lets you wrap them around his waist. He leans down, you think he’s going to kiss you, but he goes for your neck and kisses you there instead. 

“Why are you pouting?” he asks, voice muffled and vibrating against your throat. 

“Want you to fuck me,” you lie. 

It’s not a complete lie, you do want him to fuck you, but it certainly isn’t the full truth either. You’re afraid that if you’re honest with Wonwoo about wanting him to kiss you it’ll turn him off. He’s not about to make love to you, that much is clear, so was kissing off the table? Was that too intimate for a hookup like this? Would he think you wanted something more if you asked?

“I was getting to that,” he insists lowly. “So impatient.”

“You’re the one who ate me out as soon as you got me alone. You haven’t even kissed me yet.” 

There. Maybe if you challenged him he’d give you what you wanted. 

“Oh, you want me to kiss you, huh?”

He wraps a hand around your neck and pulls you in, finally pressing his lips to yours. Men were so easy. 

He tastes like you imbued with unfamiliarity. Blood, you realize when you pull back and see the cut on his lip had reopened. It isn’t much, just enough to make him look vaguely vampiric. You swipe your thumb across his bottom lip and push it into his mouth for him to suck on. 

He does, but he has the audacity to pretend not to like it.  

“You’re sick,” Wonwoo scoffs. 

“And you’re still hard.”

“Two things can be true at the same time.”

He kisses you again before you can get another word in, dropping his free hand between your legs to ensure you're truly unable to talk back. 

He uses his fingers to tease you for a moment or two and then he teases you with the head of his cock, pressing it right up against you and making you whimper into his mouth. 

“Tell me, what have you been thinking about all these months,” he murmurs, “when you’re in your bed all alone listening through the wall?”

“I- it’s embarrassing...” you protest. 

Wonwoo draws back, tonguing his cheek as he gazes down at you. “Tell me or we’re done here.” 

You’re not sure whether or not he’ll make good on his threat but you don’t want to call his bluff and risk blowing your chance to actually live out the fantasies you were too embarrassed to share. 

“I thought about... this,” you say hesitantly. 

“This? You thought about me fucking you here?”

“No...”

“You’re going to have to be more specific then, angel.”

“It was, um, in your bed.”

“You mean Mingyu’s bed.”

“I didn’t know that at the time,” you whine.

He smiles. “I know. You know, if you had just paid a little closer attention you would have realized he sounds nothing like me.”

“I was a little distracted at the time,” you whisper.

“Yeah? Distracted pretending it was you in those girls’ positions?”

You nod reluctantly. 

“Poor baby,” he pouts, “must’ve been so jealous but so wet you just had to touch yourself, huh?”

You hate that he’s right. You hate that the condescension turns you on even more. 

While he’s talking, Wonwoo snakes an arm behind you and grabs a condom from a jar on the counter. Did he and Mingyu just keep them out for guests like they were cotton swabs or something? Did they get laid that often? 

He tears the foil packet open with his teeth and rolls the condom on as you watch and unconsciously spread your legs even wider for him. 

“Ready?” he asks, holding your face with both hands. 

It’s probably the first earnest interaction you’ve had with him. His eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation and even when he finds none, he waits for you to answer.

“Go ahead.”

You keep your eyes trained on his face as he guides himself inside of you, watching the way his eyelashes flutter and his breath hitches when he feels the heat of you around him. He pushes himself in slowly but the stretch still knocks the wind out of you, leaving you gasping for air.   

“Breathe, baby, breathe. You’re okay.”

You can hardly hear him over the roaring in your ears but you do your best to listen, chest heaving as you desperately try to anchor yourself to him. 

Wonwoo doesn’t move until you urge him to by wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing his hips with your thighs. It isn’t easy at first, despite how wet you are for him. He’s that huge. 

You almost wish he wasn’t just because you don’t think it’s fair for any man’s ego to be warranted, especially one as big as his. Though you suppose it’s fitting. 

 After a few rough strokes, he starts to play with your clit again to get you to relax a little. It works, your eyes roll and your head falls back against the mirror as the tension eases from your muscles. 

“Does it feel as good as you thought it would?” he presses. 

“B-better,” you admit.

“That’s because it wasn’t me you were hearing.”

You groan, annoyed that he still hasn’t let it go. You doubt he ever will. 

“It’s okay. I’ve thought about this too,” he confesses.

“You have?”

“Have you seen yourself?” he scoffs, “Don’t sound so surprised. I’d s-see you in the hallways, see the way you’d glare at me- fuck... who knew all this time you were right next door fantasizing about me while I fantasized about you. We could’ve been doing this so much sooner.”

You want to tell him that you have all the time in the world to make up for it now but you can’t find the words. They’ve dissolved on your tongue and left you with only his name to repeat over and over like you’re in a trance.

“Louder,” he pleads as fucks you even faster.

“But our neighbors-”

“Fuck them,” he spits. “They already hate us because of Mingyu, let them know my name too.”

Apparently you aren’t the only jealous one between the two of you. You want to laugh but you physically can’t, too caught up in the incandescent feeling in your stomach that threatens to engulf you entirely. 

“Fuck, are you about to cum?” Wonwoo gasps, lips parting in concentration. 

You nod. “Just a little more,” you beg, “yeah, exactly like that... oh fuck-”  

“I’ve got you,” he assures you. “Let go, I’m right there with you.”

It’s surprisingly sweet of him and you think he might realize it too because he grabs your jaw and pulls you in to kiss you as you fall apart together so that he can’t say anything else. 

Once you come down, he’s the first to start putting you both back together. 

“Wanna actually take a shower now?” he asks, holding out a hand to help you down from the counter. 

Your knees wobble on your landing but Wonwoo’s quick to wrap an arm around your shoulders wounded-soldier style and sit you on the closed lid of the toilet.  

“Take your time,” he tells you, kneeling on the tile in front of you. 

“Thank you.”

“Do you want to stay the night? I mean you can hardly walk. There’s no way you’ll make it all the way home.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “All the way next door?” 

“Exactly! It’s better not to risk it, right?”

You chuckle. “I guess.”

Wonwoo grins. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you home myself in the morning. I’m a gentleman, after all. And then we can piss off your neighbors.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

[retiredteabag]

Wishful thinking

Arranged marriage with Nanami… part one?

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Nanami Kento was not in a sorcerer clan. In fact, he was the only sorcerer in his family. You had met him only once before you had been informed of the engagement, and in that brief interaction you had decided you knew exactly what type of man he was.

"It's a pain." had been his harsh words. Vitriol clear as day in his tone.

When asked what he felt about being a sorcerer his response had been that it was…a pain? Being the reserved individual he was, he didn't take the time to elaborate despite the questions of the sorcerers surrounding him.

You had rolled your eyes in that moment. Clearly, he had no sense of responsibility. No duty. I suppose that's what it means to not be in a clan. You had thought. He’s got no idea how good he has it.

And even though you chalked his image up in your mind as an irresponsible and pretentious git. The memory of his brutal gaze stuck in your mind. You knew deep down that it was simply jealousy.

Sorcery was a pain, there had been many instances where you wished you could put it aside and leave this world, but that was simply not what you were born for.

All those months ago, you had left the meeting with the Jujutsu higher-ups resentful. How lucky that man in the suit was, to not have an obligation to fulfill exactly what the clan heads asked of him. How free he must feel.

But, oh, how wrong you had been.

--

You had known your marriage was impending, having had meetings with your father and his subordinates on several occasions to discuss the offers from other clans.

Offers for your hand.

Offers for the rest of your miserable life, for your body, for your fertility, offers to impregnate you, and nothing much else.

You had been picky, of course, having known all your life this was forthcoming you were expecting to not have to rely on Zenin blood to uphold the family name.

Your father was no kind man but if there was one thing he was, it was prideful. If even his measly daughter could brush aside an important clan born man, he too could wait for a finer offer to come.

Back then, you had no idea that would lead to this.

You stood before a full-length mirror. Your dress came below your ankle, the neckline nothing short of chic modesty.

By all accounts and by the people serving you, you were expected to be prepared.

Your wedding was nothing special, a formality, nothing more. Clans from across Japan were here to see the ceremony. Still, your heart pounded as you gulped at your reflection. A shakily deep breath brought you little comfort as you squeezed your hand into a fist.

You knew little of the man you were to marry.

Here was what you had:

He was NOT a Zenin. Hallelujah.

He was not from any clan. (This had come as a shock to you, your father having only explored offers from fellow clan heads, you had no idea how this arrangement was to be made until Gakuganji, the principal of your school, Kyoto Jujutsu High, and one of the more powerfully cruel higher-ups, had arrived at your families estate, enlisting a "fine candidate" for your immanent marriage. He had seemed certain. Immovable.)

And last of the information you had, he was seemingly strong enough for your father to deem his ability to produce "quality children" acceptable. He was a grade 1 sorcerer, nothing to scoff at.

You knew your father would not have accepted the offer of a man without heritage if the higher-up’s had not endorsed it. Even now you wondered why they were so keen on this matrimony.

And that was all you had.

"You look beautiful." A maid from the estate was arranging your hair, she moved quickly, with a soft hand. You hardly noticed her. "I've heard he is a very gentle man," She starts up again after your eyes narrowed in the reflection of the mirror, "if that's any consolation." The women ends in a whisper.

You huff out a breath, "Thank you."

That's what they all say.

You wonder if she was lying to you. This morning you had heard your mother crying in your bedroom after you had made up your sheets for the last time. It made you sad, knowing she was afraid for you.

Afraid you would turn out like her.

You swallow with some effort and look up to the maid at your side, she smiled at you.

"It looks lovely." You say, assuming she wanted praise.

She lays a hand on your shoulder and her smile crinkles in a funny way, "He is very handsome." Her eyebrows tilt in a telling fashion, she almost giggles.

Great.

What were you to say to that?

"I... see." You look at the floor and turn away from your reflection. All that was left was for your father to arrive. To take your hand in an uncomfortably tight grip and lead you down the aisle to the man that was decided to be the father of your children.

"Is there anything you would like, before I leave you? It won't be long now..." The maid tries to meet your gaze so you look up to her face once more.

"No, there's nothing, thank you for helping me." You try to smile at her but your throat hurts from the brief amount of talking you have already done.

The women nods her head, she turns to go but hesitates at the door, for a moment you think she is going to turn and speak to you, to say something as a comfort perhaps, but just as her body holts to grip the door, the hinges swing away and your father steps in.

"Move out of my way. Move! Out!” Your father shoves at the women who had been by the threshold and she escapes out the door with a hushed apology and not a glance at yourself.

You stand before him. Resolved to not shutter in these moments. Neither of you speak until he swings his arms and says,

"Well, are you coming?"

You almost want to laugh. How you wish you could look up at the domineering man and say, no I don't think I am, but you knew better, and although he extends no arm to you, you take the few steps to his presence and heave a sign.

"Stand up straight. Serve us well."

You knew those would be all the words you heard from him tonight, as unhappy as you were to be married to a strange man, you felt pleased to know you would no longer be living in your clans estate, just as you knew your father would be glad to be rid of you.

Your fathers movements seemed all too fast. His steps, his reaching for your arm, his pulling you out the door and into the hall.

You felt as if time was slowing but those around you weren't effected. Your father huffed angrily, tugging you along. This was happening too fast. You didn't want this. You weren't ready.

You wiped the sweat from your palms over the satin dress hanging on your waist. The collar that once seemed elegant was starting to choke you. The door to the ceremony was drawing closer, you could hear music but it was almost as if the closer you came, the foggier it sounded.

Echos of your mother’s cries this morning permeated your brain. You knew you were asking for too much. But in those last moments before your autonomy would be taken from you, you had only one wish.

That the maid was right. That the man at the alter would truly be a gentle creature...would be tender....would be mild?

The doors were swinging open. The light was bright, but you did not dare to raise a hand to block its assault. You walked slowly, arm tightly locked in your fathers grasp. You noticed the clan leaders in the audience, but as your eyes tried to take in the man at the front of the room, you stuttered in your steps.

Hoping your father would take no notice, you tried to recall how you knew the man who was meeting your eye.

You began to put together who this man was, having met him before, though you hadn't been introduced. That one interaction had showed you he would not have been a man you would want to live the rest of your days with. He had seemed unhappy in those moment.

Fear shot through you.

An unhappy husband was more dangerous than any curse you had faced.

Having stared long enough, you drop your gaze from his own piercing one. You almost want to smile, but you're unable to.

Maybe he isn't as free as you thought he was. Poor him.

You wonder how he even managed to get in this predicament as the music began to come to its end. You're stepping up onto the platform that your future husband stood upon, your ankle wobbles in the heels that were chosen for you.

In a flash you see his arm reach out for you but you’re only confused, shrinking back a bit father from him.

You look to meet his gaze once more. He's barely a few breaths from you. His eyes seem focused on your face.

The officiant is talking but you cannot hear him.

You realize one of two things in this particular moment, one, the maid was right about something, this man was remarkably handsome. And second, you realize you're feeling quite faint.

The dress had not been so hot before you were standing before this man in front of all these people under the shine of all these lights. You swallow, dig your nails into your palms, the officiant seems to be speaking to the man before you and it isn't long before your husband speaks out a low, "I do."

You feel as though you must pay attention, your bit is coming up now and you would hate to embarrass your family, but you can hardly hear the man over the pounding in your ears. A prick of sweat starts to form on the back of your neck.

There is a pause in the mans speech, he looks at you intently, after a moment he raises a brow.

Oh, right. "I do." You say.

You look anywhere but your husband. Knowing you weren't expected to kiss, you try to take in some more air. This was it.

The officiant hands something to the man before you.

He's so tall. The suit he is wearing seems to fit him perfectly, and you can’t help wondering who helped him here today if he had no clan members.

His arm is suddenly in front of you, palm up. It takes you but a moment to know what he is asking for. You brace yourself and set your hand within his own.

He places his other hand onto yours for a moment, engulfing your hand in his grasp. You are shaking, you know you are, but with everything going on in this very moment, you are hoping he won't notice.

A ring is being slipped onto your finger. Good, now your turn.

He hands you his own, a plain ring of gold.

Don't drop it. Do not drop it. Don't-

You miss his ring finger once before finally sliding it on. You hope no one noticed. You pull your hand free of his first and look to your father in the crowd.

This was it, right?

There was an echo of the efficient, "I now pronounce you husband and wife", and the group before you claps in respect.

The man who you had just married is bending down to your ear, but he doesn't say anything. You look him from your peripheral vision, and he is tilting his head down the aisle a bit.

Ah, yes. Your hand is in his own as you go back down where you just came. Your life is forever changed now.

So much lay before you, so much for you to worry about, but the one thing on your mind in this moment is how the grip of your husbands hand is infinitely more pleasant than the aggressive clasp your father had on you.

You hope against hope, that maybe, you would never feel the harsh grip of a man again.

But that was too wishful, was it not?

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Yuutsum 2

SUMMARY: What if you also have a Tsum? Then your Tsum and the Tsum of the person you like keep giving signs that they like each other? Ortho's part is platonic as always.

CHARACTERS: Twisted Tsumderland 2 Tsumsitters (Deuce; Azul; Jade; Kalim; Rook; Ortho; Lilia)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader 

WARNING: Spoilers for the Twisted Tsumderland 2 Event and the Tsumsitter cards Vignettes.

WORD COUNT: An average of 600 words per character.

COMMENTS: This was originally a request from @taruruchi for my 1k celebration. Which you can read here. And since so many readers liked it, I decided to do what I normally do when this happens: Do this for ALL the characters! Grouped by event in this case.

Azul's part is different from the one I wrote for the request. At the time the event had not yet reached the English server, if I'm not mistaken.

I hope you enjoy 😉

Yuutsum 1 (Riddle; Cater; Leona; Jack; Floyd; Epel; Sebek)

Yuutsum 3 (after going to the English server)

CONTEXT: Like the original Twisted Tsumderland 2 event, this takes place after the events of the first Twisted Tsumderland. And, surprise, your Tsum is back! But it's the only one, all the other Tsums that came with it are completely new visitors.

You were with your Tsum in the lounge of Ramshackle Dorm, and it wouldn't leave the window as if it was waiting for something. You ask if it wants to go somewhere, but it shakes its head and continues looking out the window.

A short time later you heard a loud bang at the front door as if something had been thrown at it, and your Tsum finally leaves the window and hops towards the door. Even before you open the door, you can hear Ace laughing and Deuce complaining.

When you open it, you find Deuce struggling to contain his Tsum who is trying to break free from his arms.

“Sorry [Y/N].” Deuce apologizes “I can't contain this guy. It started running... or hopping, like crazy when it realized we were going to pass by here.”

Your Tsum makes that cute tsum noise to get the attention of Deuce and his tsum. The two look down and their eyes light up as they see your Tsum. Deuce’s tsum breaks free from Deuce's arms and lands right next to your Tsum. And the two tsums begin to rub their little faces and noses against each other. The Deuce blushes automatically.

Ace, who watched the whole scene, stopped laughing and was now looking at the tsums with a sulky face. “Oi? What's up now with this guy?” he questions.

“I-I-I don't know.” It's the only thing Deuce can say in response.

“Hey, wait a minute.” Ace continues. “Your Tsum came back? Why? Our housewarden's didn't. Neither did Cater's.”

You say you don't know.

“Maybe your tsum is dragged into everyone's messes too.” Deuce says, smiling. “Not even it has a break with us, hum?”

Your Tsum headbutts Deuce's Tsum to get its attention, taps one of its little hands on the ground 5 times and Deuce's Tsum realizes the urgency of something. The two tsums start hopping towards the gate.

“OI! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” Deuce shouted.

The three of you run after the Tsums, but they reach the Hall of Mirrors first and go through the mirror to Heartslabyul.

“Well, on the one hand they saved us work.” Ace says.

“Yes, but they are on the loose!” Deuce replies.

You go through the mirror, run a little further and stop abruptly when you come across Riddle and Trey. Your tsums were close to their feet and were still very close to each other.

“See? They arrived on time.” Trey sayd. “They must have just had a little mishap with the tsums. Right?”

Ace and Deuce confirm. Riddle welcomes you and invites you to the Unbirthday Party that will be happening soon. He also tells Ace and Deuce to go do their party preparation duties. After he and Trey leave, Deuce realizes what happened.

“I get it now. Your tsum was telling mine the time, and warning it that we were going to be late.”

“Damn, even your Tsum needs two Tsumsitters.” Ace laughs. And Deuce-tsum hits him.

When it was preparing to hit him a second time, your Tsum got in the way and started rubbing its face against Deuce-tsum’s, calming it down.

“See my point?” Ace adds, and this time it's your Tsum that hits him.

You were walking through the school hallways, with your Tsum in your arms, when you crossed paths with Floyd. He automatically smiled when he saw your Tsum.

You ask each other what the other is doing there and Floyd tells you that he was playing a board game with Azul and his Tsum. He says that he left them playing with each other in the classroom. You feel your Tsum move excitedly in your arms.

After saying goodbye to each other you go to the classroom where Floyd said they were. You knock on the door and pop your head inside. You see both Azul and his Tsum immersed in the game, but not enough to not notice your presence.

“Oh, good afternoon [Y/N].” Azul greets you with a smile. His Tsum quickly looks towards the door when he hears him say your name. “Please come in.” You do so. “Is there anything you need or-” He sees your Tsum and widens his eyes with a sparkle in them.

Azul-tsum makes that happy tsum sound, jumps to the floor, stops for a second, jumps back onto the table to make its move on the board game, and then gets off the table again to hop happily towards you. Your tsum jumps out of your arms and lands on the ground. And when Azul-tsum finally reaches yours the two begin to cuddle with each other.

Azul was focused on the game and only after making his play “Okay tsum, your tu-” did he look at the two tsums, and blushes slightly. He clears his throat loudly causing his tsum to look at him.

Azul’s tsum turns to yours and makes another cute sound, then the two of them hop back to the table. Azul's tsum returns to its place on the other side of the board, but yours jumps into Azul's arms to his surprise. He managed to catch it, then it looked at him and smiled with its eyes, making Azul stare at it in wonder.

“I'll concede that you are indeed charmingly cute.” He then whispers to himself: “As much as the person you resemble.”

You approach to sit with them and Azul suggests that you sit next to his tsum. The two Azuls exchange a suspicious look with each other.

They keep playing. When it's not Azul's turn, your tsum makes little sounds or something that makes him look at it. And when it's not Azul-tsum's turn, it seems to be undecided between paying attention to the board or looking at you so you can pet it. In the end, the two were practically tied, but Azul-tsum makes a play that makes it win the game. Both his tsum and your tsum celebrate, coming back to cuddle with each other.

“Ah, so that was your real move.” Azul said with a smirk. “You used [Y/N]'s tsum to distract me. Actually no, worse than that, you two are partners in crime.”

The two tsums looked smugly at Azul. But he didn't seem upset despite having lost. In fact, he seemed to be looking thoughtfully at the tsums. You ask what's wrong or if he's okay.

“Oh, don't worry, it's nothing. I was just thinking...” He looks back at the tsums who look back at him with an encouraging look. Both of them. “From what I've been able to observe, tsums have a lot in common with the person they resemble, especially their personality. After seeing how these two work together I was just wondering...” He looks at you and smiles confidently. “Wouldn't you happen to have the same interest as your tsum in being my partner too? Hum... partner in crime, I mean.”

With You were walking through the Main street, with your Tsum in your arms, when you see a little thing hopping towards you. It stops right in front of you, at your feet, and smiles at you with its eyes, making that cute tsum sound, as if it were greeting you politely. From the side where the dark grey strand is facing and from the calm demeanor, you can tell it's Jade's tsum.

Your tsum makes the cute tsum sound back to Jade-tsum and you let your tsum jump to the ground for the two to rub their faces against each other.

After that, you hear footsteps approaching you. Looking ahead you see Jade. His tsum looks at him and then jumps into your arms smiling at you with its cute little eyes. When Jade gets close to you he laughs.

“He he. You are quite cunning indeed, tsum. Or should I just say coward at this point?” He was still smiling, but with that look that was worryingly difficult to decode. Then he looks at you. “Forgive me for not greeting you first, [Y/N]. I got... worried about the tsum when I lost sight of it. I'm genuinely relieved that you were the one to find it safe and sound.” He looks down at your tsum. “Aw, what a lovely sight, your sweet tsum is back.”

You feel Jade-tsum tense up in your arms, but it barely moves. Jade bends down and holds out his cupped hands for your tsum to jump into them. You feel Jade-tsum once again tense slightly, but without moving. Jade raises your tsum in front of his face. It smiles at him innocently.

“Undoubtedly adorable.” Jade says. “But you shouldn't just jump into anyone's hands like that.” He lowers his hands to chest height, holds the tsum with one hand while, with the other, he makes a claw-like movement as if he were going to imprison it. “It could be dangerous.” He looks at his own tsum in your arms, who still doesn't move.

“But it didn't just jump into anyone's hands.” You say. He looks at you meeting your eyes. “But you're right, it can be very dangerous. But you should have told that to YOUR tsum.”

Both Jade and his Tsum are surprised by what you said. And suddenly you tighten your hug around Jade-tsum as if you were Floyd squeezing someone. But in this case, you are squeezing the tsum with love and affection. It waves its little arms and legs as if it were asking for help, but not trying very hard to escape.

Jade laughs delightedly, and frees your tsum from his clutches, taking it to his chest just to pet it affectionately. He looks at that little angel face face that knew he wouldn't hurt you or your tsum and smiles.

“In fact, you are a danger on the loose.” He jokes. “Tell me, would the both of you like to accompany me and my little lookalike to Mostro Lounge? We came here for a stroll around campus because I thought it would be a nice bonding exercise. But I’m sure that something like sharing a smoothie, for example, could also be great for bonding.”

You look happy with the idea of going with them to Mostro Lounge. But in the meantime you realize that tsums don't have mouths. How could they share a drink?

“Oh, well, perhaps I wasn't referring to the tsums.” He smiles at you with that bold confidence.

Kalim, his tsum and Jamil took a magic carpet tour of campus. Kalim-tsum’s eyes were sparkling the whole time during it, but something must have piqued its interest because after that it disappeared.

Meanwhile, you were with your tsum in the Ramshackle Dorm lounge when you heard someone knocking on the door. You open the door to find... no one. Until you hear that happy tsum sound near your feet. You look down and see a Kalim-tsum smiling at you with its eyes.

As soon as you say hello, it wastes no time in jumping on your shoulder and brushing its face against your cheek. You hear another tsum sound behind you. You turn around and Kalim-tsum sees your tsum. Kalim-tsum makes another happy sound and jumps off your shoulder to hug your tsum. Or at least that's what it looked like despite its short arms.

If that tsum was there without Kalim, most likely he was looking for it. And consequently Jamil too. Therefore, you decide to take the two tsums in your arms and go find Kalim.

Just as you predicted, you found Kalim and Jamil together on Main Street. When Kalim sees you from afar, he happily waves his arms in the air to call you to join them.

“Hi [Y/N]!” Kalim greets you. “I'm so glad I found you! I really wanted you to meet-” He looks at the two little creatures you carry in your arms when you get close to him. “AH! You found it! You're amazing!”

Jamil sighs with relief. And then they both realize what, or rather, who, the other little creature is. Kalim's eyes shine and a huge smile spreads across his face.

“It can't be! There's one like you too! It's so cute! Aw, I want to hug it so much! Can I? Can I? Pretty pleeease~?”

If you’re more outgoing, your tsum will smile with its eyes at him. If you are more shy, your tsum will be too flattered and hide its face in your arms. Which will make Kalim find it even cuter.

“I know they may look like plushies,” Jamil says “but I don’t think you should treat them like one.”

“Don't worry, I won't hurt it.” Kalim says both to Jamil and to you.

“I'm also worried about the other way around. If that is even possible.”

“What? No way!” Kalim stretches out his arms welcomingly for your tsum to jump into them. And it does. He turns to Jamil. “You don't really think this adorable little thing would hurt anyone, do you?”

Jamil looks at your tsum, who smiles at him with its eyes and he blushes slightly to the point of having to look away. “Appearances can be deceiving.”

“But I am a great judge of character.” Kalim completed confidently. He brings your tsum close to his face to see it better. “Oh, if you were bigger I could hug you for real.”

This gives your tsum an idea and suddenly it starts to grow, which takes everyone by surprise, until it stops at the size of a pillow. Kalim has no other way to hold it other than hugging it and that's what he does. He hugs it tight like it's the most adorable thing on earth and he never wants to let it go.

And apparently, Kalim's tsum wants the same treatment, but from you, so it also grows to the size of a pillow for you to hug it.

Jamil looks at you all slightly uncomfortably and can only say: “If you ever do that to each other, at least get a room first.”

It was already late in the afternoon. You were walking across campus with your tsum in your arms when you heard a "CUT!". You have heard that a few other times before, it was Vil's voice and he must have been filming something for the film club.

Your tsum moves in your arms as if it was also curious to see what he was doing. You follow the sound and walk until you reach the Main Street.

“Rehearsal is over.” You hear Vil say and you stop. “Now we must capture this scene before the sun sets. Focus!”

That sounded like your cue not to interrupt him. You weren't at a place where you could appear in the frame, so you just wait there, watching, just like your tsum. However, someone else was watching the scene as well, hidden in the bushes.

“Now the real fun begins.” Rook says, both to his tsum and to Epel, that he dragged it with him. “Let us watch Vil and the rest of the club shine!”

Rook's tsum hops eagerly and the two observe Vil, until something else catches the tsum's attention and it looks to the side. Rook notices this.

“You changed the target of your attention, monsieur tsum. What could have possible divert your gaze from Vil?” He follows the tsum's gaze and finds you, standing there watching Vil. “Bien sûr, there could only be one reason.” He sees your Tsum in your arms. “Oh, marvelous! Tricster's tsum is back! Even more beauty to behold.”

Everything goes smoothly until the end of the recordings. And it is only when Vil sees you and greets you that you approach him. His attention (and everyone's actually) goes to your tsum.

“I see you've also been assigned as a tsumsitter.” Vil says. “I heard it had shown up the first time this happened, but I ended up not having the pleasure of meeting it. I'm glad I got this chance.” He smiles at your tsum who looks at him in wonder. “One also appeared in Pomefiore. A Rook lookalike.”

You feel your tsum spasm in your arms, and then you hear something jumping towards you. You turn around and a wild Rook-tsum appears and greets you with that happy tsum sound.

Your tsum jumps to the ground and lets Rook-tsum approach it first. It jumps to get closer to your tsum but, to everyone's surprise, your tsum dodges and runs away.

You panic a little, your tsum had never done that until now, and Rook-tsum goes jumping after your tsum, even though it has already lost sight of it. You are about to start running to look for them when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You are startled by Rook's sudden appearance.

“Worry not, trickster. I have been following monsieur tsum and it has been an enriching experience. You could accompany me and and observe them together. There is no place they can go that I won't find them.” he winks.

You go with Rook following your tsums. You notice that every now and then your tsum stops as if provoking Rook-tsum and when it is about to catch your tsum, it dodges again and continues running away.

“How fascinating.” Rook laughs “Tell me, doesn't it look like they're playing with each other?”

You continue following the tsums to the botanical garden, already in the early evening. Where they finally stop. Or rather, where your tsum finally lets itself be caught, in the subtropical zone. You see Rook-tsum clinging to your tsum and making a movement with its his head as if were kissing your tsum passionately.

“I wonder...” Rook says “If this is all some kind of mating ritual for the tsums.” he laughs seeing your reaction. “What's wrong, trickster? That look is not from someone who dislikes the idea~ Is there anything your heart would like to share? Because any question you have about mine can be answered by looking at monsieur tsum.”

You were walking through campus with your Tsum in your arms when you heard something above you.

“PREFECT!” You hear Ortho's voice shout from somewhere. “LOOK OUT!”

You see an unidentified flying object coming towards you at high speed. Your instinct is to cower and duck. But the object stopped before it hit you and landed on the ground in front of you. You look and see an Ortho-tsum. Ortho approaches you.

“He he he. Did we scare you? Sorry. Are you OK?” He asks. You answer that you are. “I’m glad. We just wanted to surprise you. Have you already heard of these little creatures called tsums, [Y/N]?”

You stand up, revealing your tsum that had been hidden in your arms when you ducked. Both Ortho and his tsum are happy to see your tsum.

“OH, One like you also appeared! So cool!”

Ortho-tsum uses its new device to fly towards your tsum, who got surprised by it. Your tsum jumps from your arms to the ground and gestures for Ortho-tsum to come closer to it.

Ortho-tsum lands near your tsum again and it starts walking around ortho-tsum as if it is examining the new device suspiciously. The tsum make sounds as if they were chatting.

“I don't know what they're saying...” Ortho laughs. “But from the tone and what they're doing, it seems like your tsum is worried about my tsum's new antigravity device. The audio of the noises I'm capturing sounds similar to a scene from a movie I have stored in my memory, where an older sister is saying things like 'Where did you get that?', ‘Are you sure it's safe?’, ‘You could get hurt.’ Ha ha ha.”

After this conversation between the tsums, Ortho's tsum flies for a second, lands again and makes an inviting sound for your tsum. It jumps onto Ortho's tsum and the two slowly and carefully take flight.

“I think it wants to play with your tsum. Will you play with us too [Y/N]? Pretty Please?”

If you feel safe with Ortho, he will take you flying on his back. If you're scared he'll say: “It's okay, I understand. We can play close to the ground. We don't need to go up to the clouds to have fun together."

After walking around campus you decided to stop to rest on one of the benches in the Courtyard. You sit down and your tsum stays on your lap. A few seconds later, when you thought you could rest a little, something falls into your lap and on top of your tsum, startling you both.

After enjoying your reactions, the new tsum jumps next to you on the bench and turns to face you. It's a Lilia-tsum.

“Yay! Your tsum is back!” A voice behind you startles you and your tsum again, making it jump from your lap to Lilia-tsum's side.

Your tsum starts making sounds like it's complaining, but Lilia-tsum starts rubbing its face against your tsum to calm it down.

“Khee hee hee. Sorry.” LIlia says upside down, floating next to you. “You were trying to rest, weren't you?” He gestured for the tsums to move away so he could sit next to you.

They jump into your lap, where they get so close that it looks more like they're snuggling in a nest.

“I know it may not seem like it, but my tsum was getting tired too. But neither it nor I could resist surprising you and your tsum. Isn't it as charming and cute as me?”

You look at the tsums in your lap who seemed to be cuddled up sleeping. You joke that Tsum can be cuter.

“Ow, you're just saying that because of the plush shape it has. But looking at you and your tsum, I understand what you mean. Your tsum is also cuter than you.” He sees you pout slightly, and smiles mischievously. “Khee hee hee. Looks like someone didn't like being hit with their own spell.”

Lilia's tsum wakes up from its short nap and jumps to the ground, waking up your tsum as well. Lilia's tsum makes an inviting happy sound to your tsum, who also jumps off your lap to join it.

“I think it wants to play with your tsum now.”

You and Lilia follow your tsums to see what they will do. They prank a student. He was distracted reading a magazine when Lilia-tsum makes a sound that catches his attention. He looks, sees Lilia's tsum, rubs his eyes, looks again, and sees Lilia's and yours tsums. He rubs his eyes again, looks again and only sees your tsum. He gets up startled, looks the other way, looks back to where the tsum were and there is nothing there anymore. You hear him walking away wondering if he's going crazy or hallucinating.

You and Lilia laugh. And then Lilia has another idea for a prank.

The four of you go to the library and find two students chatting at a table. One of them is telling the other that he had seen Lilia transform into a small, round creature in front of him. The other wondered if it was some shapeshifting spell or some prank of Lilia's. Lilia-tsum hopped over to them.

“SEE?! HERE! This was the creature I saw Lilia transform into!”

You appear and greet the students. Lilia-tsum jumps into your arms in front of them and Lilia casts a light spell that temporarily blinds them, long enough for your tsum to take your place. When the students look again, they find two tsums.

“AHH! It's not a spell, it's some curse!” the other student says. “If any of them touch us, we become one of them too!”

Your two tsums walk slowly but menacingly towards them, and the students run away. Lilia bursts out laughing.

“This must have been the best one yet. Don't you also think it's funny when two big boys run away in fear from a cute little thing?”

The two tsums return to you. Lilia-tsum looks tired.

“We don't have that much stamina at this age, do we?” Lilia says smiling. He holds out his arms for his tsum to jump into them, but it doesn't. “Um? You don't want me to carry you?”

Lilia-tsum walks up to your tsum and cuddles with it.

“Oho, I see. In that case...” Lilia takes his blazer off his shoulders and ties the ends together as if making a hammock. “Okay you little lovebirds, here's a nest for you.” The two tsums jump in and snuggle together. “In fact, there is one thing cuter than our separate tsums: them together.” He looks at you, but the cute smile turns into a mischievous one when he sees your face. “What's wrong? Don't tell me you don't think they would make a pretty couple. That would break my heart.”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[waitimcomingtoo]

Uranus

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avengers!Reader

Synopsis: you fix Peters science project while he’s out on a date with another girl

Masterlist

You walked by Peter’s room and paused in the doorway. The empty bedroom reminded you of where he was tonight and it send a sick feeling down to your stomach. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air as you looked at all the discarded outfits he had left on his bed.

“I’m not cleaning his stupid room.” You decided and walked away. You were barely halfway down the hallway when you turned and sprinted back to his room to start to put things away. You knew it wasn’t your job to take care of him but you simply couldn’t stop yourself from tidying up. You assumed he’d be getting back late from where he was and probably wouldn’t want to clean up all his clothes just to get into his bed. As you folded a pair of his jeans, you looked up into his vanity mirror and sighed.

“You’re so pathetic.” You told yourself through a groan.

“Stop talking to yourself.” Your reflection replied and pointed at you with a scathing finger. You jumped and looked down to see your finger was pointed as well.

“Right.” You mumbled and left his room.

You then went into the living room and saw Peter’s science project sitting on the couch. He had been building a model of the solar system for weeks now for his astronomy class with a little help from you here and there. All you did was hold pieces together after he glued them but he still insisted that he could not have done it without you. You smiled at the memory of the two of you working on it together and picked it up.

“Why would he leave it where someone could sit on it?” You sighed and moved it to the bar counter in the kitchen. You left the living room to use the bathroom just as Thor was entering the room. He stepped onto a bar stool with ease and took a seat on the counter to eat the apple he had taken from a lunchbox labeled “Sam’s: do not touch”. He munched his apple for a moment before feeling something digging into his back. He sat up a little and pulled a small ball out from under him that was painted to look like Mercury.

“Hm. Thats strange. I don’t remember putting that up there.” Thor frowned as he rolled the planet between his fingers. You walked back into the living room and smiled at Thor until you saw what he was holding. Your heart stopped at the same time your feet did and you let out a dramatic gasp that sent you into a coughing fit.

“Thor!” You exclaimed. “You just destroyed Peter’s science project!”

“These tiny colorful balls were his science project? What was it on? Tiny colorful balls?” Thor asked as he stood up to look at the science project he had completed crushed.

“No. It was a model of the solar system. And you just crushed it. How did you not feel that when you sat down?” You whined as more parts of the project fell from Thors jeans and back into the counter.

“Lady Y/n, you must be mistaken. I’ve seen the solar system with my own eyes. And then I had my eye cut out. And then I had my eye replaced and saw the solar system again. Peters little balls looked nothing like it.” Thor told you, making you roll your eyes up to the ceiling and stamp your feet like a little kid.

“I don’t care about your optic history.” You groaned. “Peter’s been working on it for weeks and your giant butt just crushed it in seconds.”

“Thank you. I eat a lot of yams to get these yams.” Thor smiled at the presumed compliment and patted his thigh. You watched him for a moment before letting out a deep sigh.

“Okay.” You was all you could stay in your effort to remain calm.

“I don’t see what all the petulance is about. If he formed one solar system out of tiny colorful balls, surely he can do it again. All the pieces are right here.” Thor pointed out.

“Yes, but that doesn’t erase the fact that you ruined the project he spent weeks working on. He’s gonna be devastated when he sees this. And who taught you the word “petulance”? Have you been watching The Twilight Zone again? I don’t know why you do that. It always scares you.”

“Never you mind.” He wagged a finger. “I do feel bad for the boy. I’ll collect the tiny balls since it was my behind that crushed them and then Peter can glue them back together.”

“He can’t. It’s due tomorrow and right now he’s on…I don’t know. He’s just busy and he can’t fix it tonight.” You sighed and started to collect the scattered pieces of the project.

“Busy doing what? You’re here and his small balls were finished. What else could the boy be doing?” Thor wondered. You paused for a moment and felt that sick feeling in your stomach again.

“He’s on a date.” You said for the first time out loud since Peter told you his plans for the evening. You’d been quietly stewing all day over it and letting it settle in a massive dark cloud over your head.

“Well I’m sure the man he’s with will be understanding that he has to come home to fix his balls.” Thor told you.

“Stop saying balls!” You scolded. “And the date is with a girl, for your information. A very pretty girl from our business class who smells like a vanilla and my broken dreams.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Lady Y/n. I never knew why but I know that small boy means a lot to you.” Thor said sympathetically and put his hand on your shoulder. You gave him a sympathetic smile and patted his hand.

“Seems like a lot of things are broken tonight.” Thor continued. “Your dreams, Peters balls-“

“Say balls one more time.” You said through clenched teeth.

“Or what? You’ll stab me?” Thor challenged you.

“What? No. Jesus Christ. Who hurt you?” You mumbled and pushed his hand off your shoulder.

“My brother. And then he hurt me again. And then my sister hurt me. And then my brother once more before he died before my eyes. Enough about me, why are your dreams broken?”

“It’s complicated.” You sighed. “Can I tell you something personal?”.

“No.” Thor replied and left the room without another word. You shrugged in defeat and wondered why you even bothered.

“Well that was a fine howdy do.” You mumbled and finished collecting the pieces. You laid out all the broken bits of Peter’s project on the kitchen counter and folded your arms. It would be a lot of work for Peter and you had no idea what hour he’d be getting back. As much as you hated the idea of him being on a date, you more so hated the thought of him coming home happy and his smile falling when he saw what had become of all his hard work.

“I need to fix these balls.” You whispered to yourself. You grabbed Saturn and one it’s broken rings and started to see how you could glue them back together.

“No. I can’t do this.” You said out loud. “I can’t fix every little thing in Peter’s life just to make him happy. I’m not his girlfriend. I’m not the one he asked on a date. I’m just a friend.”

You put the pieces down and folded your arms to keep your hands off it. You knew you should walk away, but you couldn’t stop thinking about all the nights you walked past his room and saw him working on the project. He’d put so much effort into it and now it was in pieces on the counter.

“A girlfriend would spend the next few hours working on a project that has no impact on me just to save Peter the trouble. A good friend would feel bad that his work got destroyed and offer condolences when he got home. And I’m a good friend. Not a girlfriend. It’s not my problem. So I’m walking away.” You decided and left the room. You lasted all of three minutes before you ran back into the room with a tube of crazy glue.

“I gotta fix the balls.” You exclaimed and plopped yourself down at the table. Once you organized all the planets and parts of the solar system, you went to Peter’s room to get the sketched out drawing he had made of the project to use as a blueprint. You silently thanked Peter for being so meticulous and followed his sketch to rebuild his project.

Time went by slowly but your hands cramped up quickly as you worked on the model. It was around the time you glued on Saturns 30th moon, you understood why it took Peter so long to complete the project. All the moons and planets looked the same to you so you had to carefully study his drawings and rely on your memory of when you helped him with the project to guide you as you worked. You had to stop every so often to rub your eyes and roll out your wrists to keep them from getting stiff.

You drifted off into sleep at some point when staring at Jupiters moons became a little too mind numbingly boring. Peter got back from his date about midnight and strolled past you on his way to his room. He backtracked when he realized you were asleep at the table and frowned. His completed science project was beside you, save for one missing moon next to Jupiter. His eyebrows knit together in confusion over the sight so he gently shook you awake.

“Hey. You awake?” He asked in a soft tone as he shook your shoulders. You shot up immediately and nearly knocked your head into his.

“I’m not snoring.” You blurted as you pulled the hair that was stuck to your cheek away.

“I know.” He chuckled. “What are you doing here? Why is Ganymede stuck to your face?”

“Why is what?” You asked through a yawn. Peter smiled and pulled the missing moon off your cheek and held it out to show you.

“Ganymede. The largest moon in the solar system.” He told you and put it in its correct spot on the model.

“There is no way you saw a random gray ball stuck to my face and correctly identified it as Gammy meme.” You insisted.

“Ganymede.” He corrected. “And I only know because I labeled them. See?”

Peter pulled the moon back off to show you a tiny G written on the bottom with the word “Jupiter” in parentheses beside it.

“They’re labeled?” You nearly shouted. “Well that would’ve been helpful four hours ago.”

“Four hours? That’s how long you’ve been here? What happened?” Peter frowned and took a seat beside you. You gave him a sheepish smile and looked at the model.

“I’m sorry, Peter. Thor sat on your project by accident.” You admitted. “I’ve been putting it back together ever since. I think I got most of it the way you had it but I never found Pluto. I honestly think it went up his ass and he just didn’t realize.”

“You spent four hours fixing my project?” He asked with a surprised smile.

“Of course I did. I know how hard you worked on this. I didn’t want you to have to start all over.” You told him. He gave you a fond smile and placed his hand on top of yours. Your eyes flicked to your hands and you gulped but said nothing.

“I really appreciate this but you really didn’t have to do this. You should have called me. I could’ve come home and fixed it myself.”

“But I knew you were really excited about tonight. I didn’t want to interrupt your date.” You said without looking at him.

“Well that was very selfless of you. And I hate to tell you this after all the work you did, but the date was bad. I would’ve loved an excuse to leave.” He admitted, making you smile involuntarily.

“It was bad?” You asked and quickly cleared your throat to cover up your smile.

“Woah. Don’t sound too happy.” He snorted.

“What?” You asked in a high pitched voice. “I’m not. Why would that make me happy? But please elaborate anyway.”

“It was bad.” He grimaced. “Like, season 6 of Glee level bad.”

“That bad?” You gasped. “So many forgettable characters. So many odd couple choices.”

“They sang Let it Go. They worked Let it Go from Frozen into the plot and made them sing it.” Peter shook his head.

“That was not the worst for me. The worst was when Mr. Shue rapped Same Love. They let the straight adult rap a song about being gay when the entire cast of queer young people were right there. And wasn’t there a child in the club for some reason? And twins who were lowkey dating?”

“Yep. All of that. And yet, my date was still worse.” He shrugged. You looked down at your lap and smiled a little before quickly dropping it.

“It was that bad, huh?” You asked and tried not to sound too interested.

“So bad.” He sighed. “She was a great girl, don’t get me wrong. We just had no connection whatsoever. She didn’t laugh at any of my jokes and then there were a few times where I thought she was joking so I laughed but she didn’t and then we sat in awkward silence.”

“That’s the worst. I hate awkward silence. I once pretended to forgot the word for “seatbelt” just to keep a conversation going with an uber driver. I kept calling it a strap on.”

“Wait, is that not what a strap on is?” Peter played dumb. “Should we Google it to make sure?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “Keep going. I want to hear more about this awful date with the girl you’ll never see again.”

“There was just no spark. We realized pretty quickly that we didn’t have anything in common. At one point, she asked me if Star Wars was the “movie with the things you can’t feed after midnight”. So I don’t foresee a second date.”

“Wow. She had to have a serious lack of knowledge about two major huge pop culture movies to ask that question.”

“I know. I told her yes and she believed me.” Peter replied, making you laugh. He laughed as well over how ridiculous the whole night had been before stopping to look at you. When your laughter died down and you realized he was staring at you, you smiled shyly and looked over at the project to avoid eye contact.

“Well, I’m sorry it didn’t go well.” You told him. “Maybe the next girl will understand you more.”

“Yeah. I hope so.” He said in a soft voice and never stopped looking at you.

“You’ll have better luck next time. To be honest, I thought the date was doomed as soon as you told me you were going for sushi. You hate raw fish.”

“Because I’m not a seagull.”

“Because you’re not a seagull, yeah.” You laughed. “I think of that every time I eat sushi. I’m no better than those damn seagulls.”

“Don’t say that. You’re way better. A seagull would not have done all this for me.” Peter insisted and gestured to the project. You looked over at the solar system you had given too many hours of your life too and smiled as you realized something.

“I had to fix it. I didn’t want you to be stressed.”

“But didn’t this stress you out? Designing this thing gave me gray hair and premature menopause.” Peter replied, making you laugh softly.

“A little.” You admitted. “But I felt better when I remembered why I was doing it.”

“Why were you doing it?”

“Because I’d do anything for you, Peter.” You said simply. You watched his ears turn pink and he turned his head so that you wouldn’t see his smile.

“I’d do anything for you too, you know.” He said in a quiet voice.

“Careful.” You warned him. “You already owe me big time for fixing this unnecessarily detailed solar system. If you tell me you’d do anything for me, you’re really at my mercy.”

“Uh oh. Sounds dangerous.” He laughed softly. You shared another moment of eye contact and smiled softly at each other.

“It’s late. We should probably get to bed.” You suggested.

“You’re right. Thank you again for this.” Peter said and picked up the project. You didn’t know if you were sleep deprived or delirious from working on the project all night but you felt compelled to share every secret you had with Peter.

“Honestly, Peter, I was happy to do this stupid science project because it kept me from thinking about you on your date.” You told him as you got up and rubbed your tired eyes.

“Really? Why didn’t you want to think about that?”

“Because whenever I did think about you on your date, I wanted to throw up.” You admitted. “And then rip out my hair. And then eat my hair and throw it back up. And then kill my self or something.”

“Well,” Peter said slowly, “I see your urge to rip your hair out and raise you the fact that I only said yes to this date because she wears the same perfume as you. And I needed a night off from staring at the ceiling and thinking about what would happen if I just told you how I felt.”

You stopped mid yawn and gave him a confused look. His eyes were darting everywhere except for your eyes and you could see the rosy glow on his cheeks even in the dim light of the kitchen.

“Oh? And how do you feel?” You wondered and crossed your arms. Peter gulped before sitting up straight in his chair.

“I don’t know. Why did me being on a date make you so upset?” He challenged you. You narrowed your eyes at him and he looked nervous but didn’t back down.

“I asked you first.” You shrugged.

“Well I asked you second.” He replied. “And as Aristotle or whoever once said, first is the worst. Second is the best. Third is the one with the hairy chest.”

“Ew, what?” You grimaced. “It’s treasure chest. Third is the one with the treasure chest.”

“That makes no sense. Why would a person in third place, the very last place, be rewarded with a treasure chest? They’re the loser so they get a hairy chest. Now that’s sensical.”

“No it’s not.” You scoffed. “It makes even less sense. If I come in third place, does that mean my chest will grow hair? Or does it mean I will be given a torso with a hairy chest? Or, hear me out, does it imply that my chest is already hairy. And that’s why I came in third.”

“You did what in third?” Peter mumbled.

“Shut up. Can we get back to what we were talking about?”

“You’re right. We should go to sleep.” Peter said and tried to walk past you. You placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place and he gulped.

“Hold up.” You told him. “I’m cashing in that favor you owe me right now. We gotta talk. Sit back down.”

“I’m sat.” Peter said quietly and sat back down in his seat. You pulled your chair up to be across from him and sat down as well.

“I’m going to ask you again and I don’t want to hear another single reference to chests or placement.” You prefaced. “How do you feel?”

Peter scratched the back of his head to spare some time because he knew he was caught. He suddenly got a shy smile on his face suddenly and looked over at his project.

“Can I show you something?” He asked you as he pulled the sun off the center of the project.

“Dude.” You sighed. “I just glued that.”

“I know. And I’ll fix it. But look.” He said and turned the sun over. You looked at him in confusion and leaned forward to see what he was talking about. On the bottom of the sun in Peter’s hand writing were your first and last initials.

“My initials? Why? You smiled in surprise and looked up at him.

“Because the solar system revolves around the sun.” He explained. “But my solar system revolves around you.”

You stayed quiet as he put the sun back on the model and took your hand. A look of skepticism stayed on your face as he looked into your eyes.

“I know I do a good job of hiding it. But there is a piece of you in everything I do.” He said. “There always has been. This was just one of my more obvious ones.”

“Wow.” You said after a beat. “I really should’ve looked at the bottom of these.”

“Yeah. You should’ve.” He laughed and leaned in a little.

“Yeah. I should’ve.” You cracked a smile and leaned in as well. You stared into big brown eyes for a second and decided this was the last night you and Peter were just friends.

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Is it about the solar system?”

“No.” You rolled your eyes. “Did you kiss her tonight?”

“I don’t know. Ask me that question again one minute from now.” Peter said as he closed the gap between you and kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer since you’d been waiting for this for a while. And it was everything you imagined it would be. When the kiss started to heat up, Peter slipped an arm around you and picked you up with ease. He hastily placed you down on the counter and you jumped apart when you heard a crunching sound.

You pulled out of the kiss and looked down to see that Peter had placed you directly on top of the science project that you had just spent hours fixing. You both stared at the scattered pieces in stunned silence for a moment before he gave you a sheepish smile. You didn’t smile back and instead stared daggers at him while trying to explode his head using your mind.

“I can fix it?” He said through a nervous laugh. You held your hands up in defeat and hopped off the counter without a word.

“What? That’s how this night ends? Come on.” Peter whined and followed you as you left the room and continued your silent treatment towards him.

“You’re seriously going to walk away after that? We had something going there. Don’t go now.” He whined some more and trotted after you like a puppy.

“Go get something going with the planets I spent the last four hours glueing back together.” You grumbled and held up your middle finger for him to see as he trailed after you.

“Come on.” He half laughed, half groaned. “You can’t send me to bed after a kiss like that. We need to at least talk about it. Let’s go back and…” Peter trailed off when you passed his bedroom and he caught a glimpse of his clean floor.

“Wait, did you clean my room too?” He asked, knowing he had left it a mess before he left for the date. You froze in your tracks for a moment but decided to keep the upper hand instead of admitting to Peter that you were so down bad that you had in fact cleaned his room.

“I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers, Peter. Goodnight.” You said and slammed your door in his face. He barely had time to react before you opened your door back up and grabbed a fistful of his shirt.

“Get your ass in here, loser.”

“Don’t you mean get your anus in here? Because it sounds like Uranus?” He said with a proud smile. You stared him dead in the eyes and didn’t crack even a hint of smile.

“Do you want to come in here or not?”

“I already unzipped my pants, yeah.” He admitted as he dashed through your bedroom door.

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

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@peterparkoure

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@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

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@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep

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@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

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@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[alice-everafter]

"Were you aware that you talk in your sleep?"

Through the haze of tiredness, Vil's voice rings clear, as it so often does. It takes a few too many blinks to will the grogginess away. But when it does, you turn on your side towards him. He's in a position mirroring your own, his form highlighted by the early morning rays of sunlight leaking in through the window behind him. Swathed in blankets that have clearly seen better days, as was typical of Ramshackle grade furnishing.

"...Good morning to you too, Vil."

He doesn't reply with any words, merely a hum of acknowledgement.

It's unfair how perfect he can look so soon after waking. Cause you know for a fact your hair is in tangles under your head. Makes you feel like a true potato, as he so calls you.

You're reminded of the circumstances behind this current arrangement as he eyes your drowsy self calmly. Turns out, even after renovations, Ramshackle is still ramshackle. It only took one flop onto your bed for the legs holding up the bedframe to give out entirely. The sound had attracted the whole VDC squad, so they got to bare witness to probably one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. Well, Ace made certain that it was, at least.

Originally content to sleep on a slightly shorter than usual bed, Vil had been quite adamant on not letting you. Something about bugs and possibilities of them infesting the mattress. It didn't really matter to you, but somehow you found yourself in his room. Rather, one of your guest rooms. And that was where you still were, letting him eye you down like a product on display.

"...Something on my face?"

"Yes, drool."

Nice to know that Vil's charm was present every hour of the day.

"...What was this about me talking in my sleep?" You try to nonchalantly swipe a hand over your mouth, but it fails spectacularly. Nothing gets past this man.

"You mumble all sorts of nonsense." He looks like a Renaissance painting as he brushes a stray lock from his eyes, tucking it elegantly behind his ear. "I nearly thought you were awake at first, talking to yourself."

"Yes, cause that's totally what one does first thing in the morning. Talk to themself."

The sleepiness has clearly made you overly confident. If the glare he levels you is anything to go by.

"Notice how I said 'nearly.' Meaning I didn't actually think you were. Does the morning dim your wit more than normal?"

"...For someone so insistent on getting me in their bed, you're rather snappy."

"Why I never." That comment gets him riled enough to sit up. You feel tiny as he stares daggers down at you where you continue to lie. In your puddle of disarray, while he's somehow runway ready at the ass crack of dawn.

"How can you look like a Greek god first thing in the morning?" Oh, so you've decided to voice your thoughts out loud. Ok, cool, that's totally what you wanted to do. Totally.

You watch as his anger morphs into confusion. "Greek god?"

"Oh," that's right. That's a 'your world' thing, isn't it. "A reference from back home, don't worry about it."

"Hmph," he grunts. Well, you'd hardly call it a grunt. Vil wouldn't do something as barbaric as grunt. It was more like a delicate, posh scoff. But, he no longer looks as mad as he did before, so you guess it was a good thing you decided to voice your inner musings aloud. "Does this 'Greek god' happen to have flawless skin, gorgeous hair, and impeccable taste?"

You don't want to answer him, cause you know where this is going. But, again, nothing escapes the notice of this man. You're forced to watch his lips curl up into an infuriatingly hot smug grin.

"From your face, I assume so. It's kind of you to notice the obvious."

You're very well awake by now, but you still roll your eyes. You may lowkey highkey fear this man, but nothing could've held that reaction back.

"Yeah, well, they're also incredibly abnormal. Cause the rest of the population doesn't typically wake up looking like a supermodel."

"If you think I'm a supermodel now, then you must think I'm ethereal on a day to day."

You do nothing but grumble as you shuffle to sit up, rubbing leftover sleep from your eyes while pointedly ignoring how he practically preens next to you. When you instinctually card a hand through your hair, instead of it catching on knots like you expect, it goes right through.

"It's the pillow case."

Again, the bastard reads your expression like a book and promptly comments on it.

"Satin is good for both the skin and the hair."

You're tempted to call him extra, cause who brings their own pillow case to someone else's house? But the way your hair feels, how it's free from a majority of its typical morning tangles, shuts you up.

You chance a glance up at him. Head turned towards you, knees bent below the covers, an elbow rested over top, chin held primly in the palm of his hand, still haloed by the rising sun like it’s a paid actor. With an elegant quirk to his brow and an expression equal parts amused and sickly fond.

There is... something running laps in your chest. Begging to be acknowledged. To be known.

"...If you're fishing for another compliment, you'll find that I've reached my daily quota."

You swing your legs over the side of the bed as you hear him click his tongue. And no, it's not running away, but it sort of feels like it is.

"I'll go and make myself presentable before starting on breakfast. You said we needed more protein, right? I was thinking I could make omelets━"

"A shame, really."

You have no clue how he moved so silently, but he was suddenly next to you and unapologetically in your space. Brushing hair behind your ear like he was born to do it. Walking the small distance around to your front so you could see the pleased smile upon his lips and knowing twinkle in his eyes.

Damn him, you can't help but internally curse as goosebumps form where his fingers had barely even grazed. Nothing gets past him, and especially not you.

"I was so hoping for a few more compliments, because I certainly haven't reached my needed quota."

[talaok]

Old Man

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel needs glasses but won't admit it, and there's only an amount of teasing a man can take before he decides to show you just how much of an old man he is.

warnings: unprotected p in v sex, creampie, hair pulling, (joel gets a lil rough)

Ellie was the one to start it all,

I mean it's not like you hadn't noticed, but she was the one that started with the jokes.

Not very honorable of you to blame it all on the 14 year old, you knew... but still, just to get the record straight, you weren’t the one to tease him first.

“Gimmie Granpa” she had chuckled one time, grabbing the piece of paper where Maria had written down the recipe for her 'world-famous' casserole from his hands.

"Hey-" He'd protested,

"You can't see shit, man" she giggled, "Stop trying to fight it- you're getting old buddy"

And well from then on things had... escalated.

You'd yet to see a day where the poor man wasn't made fun of because of it, but truth be told, he really did need glasses.

You'd even suggested it to him more gently, in the comfort of your own room, away from Ellie's prying eyes.

"y'know baby, there's nothing wrong with getting glasses"

He'd looked at you as if you'd just told him to go fuck himself.

"Don't look at me like that" you'd smiled, rounding the bed to intertwine your hands behind his neck "It's for your own good"

"I don't need glasses"

"no?" you'd bit down a grin "you sure?"

"'m sure alright" he grumbled

"I bet Tommy would know where to get you a pair if you asked"

"darlin'"

"yes, baby?" you'd asked, hopeful

"I don't need 'em"

And you really did want to keep on trying to convince him, but then he'd kissed you and well- it must have slipped your mind.

Unluckily for him, not for a very long time.

He was in the bathroom, trying, or more specifically struggling, to open a bandaid for your injured finger.

It wasn't anything serious, just a little cut, but as you'd disinfected it, he'd insisted on covering it up, only of course you hadn't expected it to take so long.

"Baby, what's wrong, you can't find them?"

But the answer to your question was right before you as you entered the bathroom.

As I said, he was struggling.

A laugh bubbled up your throat as you took in his focused expression, the frown on his forehead, the squint in his eyes...

"Let me do it"

"No I can do it I just-" he tried to get it open again, failing miserably.

"Joel-" you smiled, walking up to him "let me" you said softly

And with a sigh, he surrendered, handing you the poor, tortured bandaid

"I could have done that" he grumbled as he watched you do it in a split second.

"Sure you could, old man" You grinned to yourself, carefully applying the bandage to your finger.

"What did you just say?"

A soft, breathless gasp fled your mouth-

He'd moved right behind you, and his hands were now on your waist.

"Jesus babe" you laughed,

"What did you say?"

His voice was rough, and his eyes... something had shifted behind his eyes.

You watched his reflection in the mirror before you as you answered

"I said I'm sure you could"

"Mhh" he hummed, his head lowering until he could dive into your neck and inhale your scent "The other thing"

"what other thing?" you feigned innocence, enthralled by his demeanor, by the almost predatorial look in his eyes

"You know what"

"no I don'-"

But you didn't have time to finish, he'd already grabbed you by your hair, pulling your head back until his mouth was ghosting yours

"you called me an old man, darlin'?"

He was a different man from a minute ago.

This was the Joel Miller people feared, the one that killed without remorse, the one that fucked you rough- the once that a sick and twisted part of you revered.

"Baby I was jokin-"

"didn't look like it" he growled, his clothed hard-on pressing into your ass making you whimper, "you think I'm an old man, babydoll?" he murmured, his grip tightening around your hair "I'll show you how much of an old man I am"

Next thing you knew, your upper body was flushed against the sink's countertop, and your shorts were at your feet, together with your panties.

You watched from the mirror as he freed his cock with the hand that wasn't holding you down, and then you felt it-

"will you look at that" he chuckled darkly, the tip of his dick sliding between your folds with ease "you're makin' a mess for an old man, babydoll"

"J-Joel" you whimpered

"no no darlin'" he cooed "You've brought this on yourself- now you're gonna be good and take it, alright?"

When you didn't respond, he yanked your head back, forcing you to look at him through the mirror

"alright?" he bent down, growling in your ear

"y-yes"

"try not to be too loud," he whispered "You wouldn't want people to know how much you like getting fucked by an old man"

You had no time to respond, to tell him how much you didn't care, because he'd already pushed himself fully inside of you, and the only thing you could do was scream.

"you can't help yourself can ya?" he muttered, watching your face contort in all sorts of bliss-induced expressions "The old man gives it to ya too good, 's that it?" he groaned, feeling your walls squeeze around him

"look at me" he ordered, pulling your hair again, making you open your eyes and watch him as he ruthlessly slammed inside of you "Look at the old man who's fuking you, darlin', don't be rude" he grinned

The sound of his skin against yours reverberated through the bathroom, and god it was nasty.

"f-fuck" you tried to speak, tears tarnishing your vision

"I know, I know" he pretended to care, getting up from where he was pressing his torso onto your back, using a hand to get you to remain flush against the sink "I'm going too slow, ain't I?"

Oh shit

Oh fucking shi-

If you thought he was going hard before... you hadn't seen anything.

You couldn't fully create one single thought in your mind as he picked up his pace, as he started literally slamming into you fast and hard enough to break you in half.

"I'm jus' an old man after all babydoll, ain't I?" he breathed, one hand still on your back while the other was still forcing your head up to look at him "You'll understand if I can't fuck you as hard as you'd like" it was like he wasn't hearing how loud you were moaning, how breathless your whines and gasps where each time his dick hit your cervix "what's that?" he mocked "you need it harder darlin'?"

"J-Joel-" you whined, begging, pleading for what you weren't even sure

"shh I got you baby" he cooed, bending down to whisper in your ear again, slowing down his pace just to thrust so fucking deep and hard into you you swore you saw stars "I know my old man's pace ain't enough for you doll"

But it was- Oh it was more than enough.

And yet he didn't care- he was going even harder, even faster, even deeper, and you... you didn't even remember your name anymore.

You could feel the thickness of his cock as it slammed into you over and over and over again, the way it would hit the most hidden spots inside of you, the ones only Joel had only ever been able to find, and then-

And then you could hear his grunts and strangled groans as he fucked you within an inch of your life, as his hair fell to his forehead and tears streamed down your face and your eyes struggled to remain open, struggled to keep on watching him as he fucked you from behind with enough force to break the fucking sink you were on.

Until it got to be too much, until you felt your stomach tighten and the fuse lighting, until he hit that secret spot once again, and all you could do was close your eyes as bliss took over your body, as waves of ecstasy washed over you.

"look at you" he groaned "coming all over an old man's cock" he breathed, your walls squeezing him too good to do anything else but follow suit "letting an old man come deep inside of ya"

It took a long moment for either of you to wake up from the sex-induced haze, but Joel was in much better shape than you, so it was him who came back earlier.

he begrudgingly pulled out, enjoying for a moment too long his own handy work before he helped you up, picking you up bridal style once he realized how useless your legs had become.

"baby" you murmured, before he could place you on the bed "You know I was joking right?" you said, leaning up to kiss him, your mouth catching his in a sweet, gentle kiss that contradicted completely the way he'd just ruined your ability to walk properly

"You're not an old man" you promised

"mh?" he hummed, kissing you again just because he could

"yeah" you smiled, melting into the kiss for what felt like an eternity

He was holding you gently, watching your eyes as they begged to close.

"good" he hummed against your mouth, watching it twist into a devious little smirk as a spark ignited in your eyes

"Although I still think you should at least consider getting glasses-"

"darlin'" he stopped you immediately "I suggest you stop talkin''"

"or what?" you bit down a grin, laughing softly

"Or Tommy's gonna be real mad when you tell him you can't make it to patrol tomorrow 'cause your legs don't work"

[luveline]

i just discovered bombshell reader but omfg she got hit in the face with a sledgehammer??? how does the healing process go for her? especially since she’s very focused on her looks. how would she cope?

thank you for requesting <3 fem

Your new scars are… an adjustment. 

The worst one is where the hammer hit you. Where your jaw shattered, and the impact of the hammerhead split your skin. You don’t remember the pain, just the nausea, and the blackness as your consciousness slipped away, and now you have a permanent reminder stretched from the corner of your mouth to your jaw. 

You turn your chin up in the mirror, looking. When you smile the scar puckers, rigid and starkly purple against your skin.  

You can hear Spencer in your kitchen. He’s singing. You haven’t heard him sing many times, despite all your days and nights spent together. Your smile is out of your hands, you don’t really think about it, and so for the first time in weeks you see your own happiness in the mirror. 

You didn’t have your jaw wired for as long as most people, just three weeks. At first you’d decided against it, and then you’d realised it wasn’t really an option. That entire time, Spencer stood by your side like he’d been glued there supporting every decision with vigour. And considering he hadn’t been your boyfriend for very long —your best friend, arguably, but not officially your partner— he’s done more than you ever expected of him. He’s been perfect. 

He continues to be everything you need. “Hey, Y/N! Are you eating breakfast today or not?” 

You give yourself a last look in the mirror, cringe at your scars, and check your newly repaired teeth. They look fine, Spencer swears that he can’t tell the difference. 

You can. 

You leave your room for the kitchen. There are twin plates of breakfast waiting and steaming hot on the kitchen table, with a glass of juice and a second of water waiting beside them. Spencer’s coffee sits half empty beside the cutlery. 

“I love breakfast. What are we having, Spencer Reid, egg and sausage muffins again?” 

He appears from your little pantry with a big smile. “No, it’s bacon and egg. But I can make something else.”

“That’s perfect, it’s perfect.” 

Spencer puts a package of rice crackers down on the table. “Let me get the hazelnut spread. Sit down.” 

“It’s fine, we can have them after. You need to eat before it goes cold, Spence.” You open your hand for him. “Please?”

Spencer takes your hand, but only for you to sit. He stays standing at your legs, looking down at you, all brown curls and eyes as his hand runs up your arm to your shoulder, where it stays. 

The other follows a similar path, but then he holds your face, and you feel your breath catch. 

Forward, for Spencer. 

Suddenly, he’s the confident one. 

“You were in there for a long time,” he says. 

“Just making sure I look alright.” 

“You do. You look more than alright.” His thumb presses into your cheek, forcing a hollow. 

You lean into it. 

“You’re beautiful. Nothing can change that.” 

You need the comfort, and you know you’ve had enough. He keeps telling you how pretty you are, and you are, but he must be getting sick of it. 

…But no. He’s not getting tired of it. 

“Love you,” you whisper. 

He’s only had a couple of those from you. Many more since your injury, not because you didn’t love him, but because it can be synonymous with so many things, like please, and thank you, and please stay. Lately, you’ve had to ask him for more than you’ve ever asked before. 

“I love you, too,” he says, with that pout that tells you his cheeks will be pink before he’s so much as sat down. 

He rubs your cheek. Over and over, little circles as your eyes close. You’re tired again. His hands smell like toast and butter. 

“It’s really not as bad as you think it is. Nobody at work will think anything less of you.” 

“Of course they will. I used to be perfect.” 

“Hey. That’s not fair, to you or anyone. A scar doesn’t have the power to– to make you less perfect,” —you peel your eyes open at his intensity— “you couldn’t be any less pretty. It’s not possible.” 

“I know it’s ugly, Spencer.” 

“You keep saying that, but it’s not.” He raises his second hand to your cheek, the one with the scar, careful though it stopped feeling tender to the touch weeks ago. The pad of his thumb follows the line. 

You raise your chin, pulling him down for a quick kiss. “Sorry,” you say against his lips. 

He smiles in turn. “It’s okay. I can keep telling you.” 

“Can you tell me again?” 

Spencer kisses you again. His way of kissing has been toned down now, and sometimes you miss feeling like he was gonna press you against a wall, but it was necessary. Even now you feel a phantom twinge as his nose smushes yours. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says, pulling back now, just one hand at your neck. “You are. You’re so pretty it gives me palpitations.” 

“That can’t be good.” 

“I think it’s really bad.” He laughs like an idiot. “I just don’t care. I’ve had you-provoked tachycardia for years. Nothing’s gonna change that now.” 

—

bombshell au

[chheolie]

"when i met jeonghan, i never imagined i would have two other perfect copies of him in my life."

choi seungcheol as father of a little girl in primary school.

d/n = daughter name

you and seungcheol received a notice from your daughter's school asking that at least one of you should come to the teachers' office. normally, you are the one who attends d/n's school meetings, but since seungcheol had a day off, he offered to go.

upon arriving at the school, in front of the teachers' office, he found your daughter sitting on a bench, her head down, swinging her legs. seungcheol approached calmly but worried. he knelt down, held d/n's hands, and asked in a gentle voice, "what happened, dear?" d/n didn't respond, continuing to look at the ground.

soon, the teacher noticed seungcheol's arrival and approached. he stood up to greet her formally.

"mr. choi, sorry to make you come here, but in cases like this, we must follow protocol," the teacher said. "d/n hit a classmate, and we advise that her parents talk to her."

seungcheol was surprised by the news, as his daughter was not one to hit others; on the contrary, she was a sweet and delicate girl. he looked at d/n and felt a pang in his heart seeing her so sad.

"oh... i'm sorry," he said, not knowing what else to say. "this won't happen again."

the teacher nodded and asked him to sign a notice of awareness, which he did. "shall we go home?" he asked with the same gentleness, picking up the backpack beside her.

she stood up and took her father's hand. the two walked in silence to the car. seungcheol knew she was afraid of being scolded, so he preferred to respect her space.

d/n settled into the back seat. while adjusting her seatbelt, seungcheol said, "don't worry, my princess, appa won't scold you. but i need to understand what happened." he looked into her eyes, conveying reassurance.

the little girl hesitated for a moment but with sad eyes said, "i'll talk when we get home and are with omma."

seungcheol agreed in silence, patted her hair, and closed the door. he then sat in the driver's seat and started the car, glancing at his daughter from time to time in the rearview mirror.

upon arriving home, you were in the living room waiting for them. you stood up seeing the frustration in your husband's eyes and your daughter's head down.

"what happened?" you asked, worried but maintaining a calm tone.

"d/n, can you tell us now?" seungcheol asked.

"a boy spent the entire class pulling my hair," she began with a trembling voice. "so i did what uncle jeonghan told me to do."

"what did uncle jeonghan tell you to do?" seungcheol asked, raising an eyebrow, fearing the answer.

"he said that if any boy at school messed with me, i should kick his butt," she replied.

you controlled yourself as much as possible not to laugh. the situation was funny; you would definitely have done the same, and jeonghan would definitely say something like that.

seungcheol gave you a reproachful look. he knew you wanted to laugh because he knew you perfectly.

"i can't believe i have three of you in my life," cheol murmured, shaking his head.

you placed a hand on seungcheol's shoulder, trying to comfort him but unable to hide a smile.

"we're going to talk to uncle jeonghan about this, and you, little princess, need to understand that violence is not the solution, even if he started it," you said to your daughter, with a firm but loving look.

d/n nodded, understanding she had caused trouble, but feeling supported by her parents.

seungcheol decided to impose a light punishment so d/n could reflect on what she had done: no snacks for a week. after talking to d/n, he called your brother, jeonghan.

"jeonghan, we need to talk about what you told d/n," seungcheol started, serious.

"what did i say?" he asked, confused.

"you told her to kick other kids' butts," seungcheol said sternly.

on the other end of the line, jeonghan laughed.

"ah, so my little princess really did that?" jeonghan responded proudly, still laughing.

"it's not funny," seungcheol scolded. "she needs to learn to handle these situations differently."

"sorry, cheol, i didn't think she would take it so seriously," jeonghan said, still in an amused tone.

after finishing the call, seungcheol finally relaxed on the couch. he saw his daughter approaching with a sweet, bright look; she knew perfectly how to melt her appa's heart.

"appa, i'm sorry for what i did. i promise not to do it again," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

seungcheol took a deep breath, trying to maintain his resolve.

"i know, dear, but you're still punished with no snacks for a week."

d/n, however, didn't give up. she was good at this. she continued to stroke her father's face and looked at him with the most adorable eyes only she could make.

"appa, please... just one snack?" she asked, with the sweetest voice possible.

seungcheol tried to resist, but her affection was irresistible. he sighed again and finally gave in.

"alright, just one," he said, defeated.

you, watching the scene from afar, couldn't contain your laughter. "i knew you wouldn't resist her," you said, laughing.

seungcheol looked at you with an embarrassed smile.

"it's hard to say no to her," he admitted.

d/n smiled, happy to have gotten what she wanted. before taking the snack, she hugged her father again.

"i love you, appa," she said, with a mischievous smile.

seungcheol, still smiling, responded: "i love you too, my little one."

d/n then held out the snack to him, with an expectant look.

"want to share the snack with me, appa? so we can eat together!"

seungcheol hesitated for a moment, but d/n's kindness and affection were irresistible. he accepted the snack with a smile.

"sure, let's share."

you laughed to yourself, watching your mini-you in action.

"when i met jeonghan, i never imagined i would have two other perfect copies of him in my life," seungcheol commented, seeing you laugh at the situation.

[nezuscribe]

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?

warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it

word count: 10.9K (whoops)

note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3

jjk masterlist

never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn’t love you, but there’s a first for everything. 

you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights. 

his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to. 

and he seems to despise you.

you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore. 

he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you. 

but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back. 

you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three. 

but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed. 

he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything. 

after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up. 

and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you. 

ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans. 

you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him. 

not that it mattered now. 

all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.

you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip. 

whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.

any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry. 

he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away. 

you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else. 

“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes. 

“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left. 

it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer. 

sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up. 

for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity. 

but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from. 

“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples. 

“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone. 

you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged. 

he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies. 

he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle. 

it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak. 

“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife. 

if only you knew.

“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long. 

you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say. 

“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you. 

“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it. 

“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features. 

and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show. 

“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk). 

he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.

“just tell them the truth.” 

the truth. 

tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up. 

tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were. 

tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms. 

tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms. 

tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position. 

you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.

“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.” 

you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.

the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind. 

you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy. 

“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him. 

you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position. 

but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.

“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door. 

“i don’t-”

“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway. 

you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself. 

---

the feast of clans came earlier than you expected. 

you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered. 

you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury. 

“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.

“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.” 

he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside. 

“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating. 

you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen. 

“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate. 

“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such? 

“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”

gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you. 

“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement. 

“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”

the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away. 

you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking. 

“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless. 

gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite. 

“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic. 

“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”

“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.” 

you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind. 

a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.

“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”

“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly. 

“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this. 

“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”

your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.

“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it. 

“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you. 

you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around. 

“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile. 

“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response. 

“if you want to hide, i’ll-”

“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!” 

a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.

“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.” 

you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families. 

“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch. 

“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other. 

“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh. 

“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you. 

his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature. 

“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded. 

you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance. 

you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl. 

she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions. 

she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls. 

you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat. 

you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you. 

you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.

---

gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him. 

“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress. 

“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down. 

you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead. 

so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other. 

once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo. 

you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased. 

though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation. 

“what you saw last night-”

“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.” 

“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either. 

“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables. 

“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words. 

“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.” 

you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it. 

you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck. 

leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you. 

you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so. 

it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him. 

“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door. 

your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else. 

“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door. 

you didn’t answer, still, waiting. 

“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door. 

“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit. 

you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table. 

“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.

a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing. 

---

gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day. 

it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy. 

you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time. 

when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned. 

“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down. 

“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks. 

“you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet. 

“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you. 

your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis. 

you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.

sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders. 

myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing. 

until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window. 

“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.

his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw. 

he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance. 

“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her. 

the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had. 

“are you alright?” 

you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being. 

he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either. 

“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly. 

“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you. 

“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.” 

“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you. 

“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.” 

“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable. 

“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”

you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three. 

“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure. 

“you are my wife-”

“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. 

gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back. 

“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man. 

“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.  

he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint. 

he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks. 

“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.” 

you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self. 

“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you. 

“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint. 

he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw. 

“what do you mean?” 

you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin. 

“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”

“letters? what letters?” 

you glance at him, taking in his shaking form. 

“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”

his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing. 

“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.” 

the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement. 

“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks. 

“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.” 

you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words. 

“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you. 

“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations. 

“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face,  twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-” 

“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull. 

“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-” 

“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.” 

you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones. 

“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago. 

“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.” 

a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it. 

“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face. 

“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself. 

“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.” 

he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters. 

you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided. 

it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours. 

it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined. 

“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love. 

“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness. 

he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you. 

“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder. 

“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again. 

“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin. 

“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name. 

“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could. 

“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them. 

“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did. 

“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one. 

“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours. 

“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago. 

“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it. 

“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.

“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”

“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips. 

you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move. 

his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give. 

your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch. 

“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds. 

“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin. 

“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face. 

his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.

“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him. 

“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down. 

he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this. 

but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you. 

you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.

he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.

he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping. 

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most. 

“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.” 

he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye. 

his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck. 

it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be. 

his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall. 

“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response. 

“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more. 

his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more. 

he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit. 

“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision. 

you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo. 

“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.

“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt. 

you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over. 

when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces. 

he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest. 

“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?” 

he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you. 

“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.” 

you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you. 

“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that. 

“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.

“and then?” 

your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face. 

“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs. 

“and then?” 

“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.” 

“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking. 

“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain. 

“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves. 

“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.

[cinnamonitgirl]

wake up.

wake tf up right now. arent you sick of not feeling how you want to feel??? not looking how you want to look??? not being who you want to be? WAKE UP. stop complaining, stop complaining about not seeing movement about things not going your way etc. its okay to be in unfavourable circumstances, that's not your fault. but you have control. you have the power to change them in an instant. so get up and start acting like the most powerful person in the universe yk why? because YOU ARE. stop being like "oh nooo i'll wait till a full moon i'll do it tomorrow" shut your goofy ass up time isnt an excuse to not have your dream life. so youre here now and you're thinking, "what do i do?" what have you learnt??? AFFIRM AND PERSIST. do what makes you feel fulfilled and trust that you're doing everything right. even if youre doubtful keep persisting.

loass sayings that make it click for me

your subconscious doesn't have eyes.

the 3d is a mirror. your thoughts must move in order for the 3d to move.

manifesting is instant. the moment you decide that it's yours, it is. the 3d has no choice but to conform to your desires.

the only thing stopping you is you.

if you want it, you can have it.

what are you waiting for? start acting like you have everything you want. no limitations!