#I guess you’ll have to read to find out
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say honestly you won't give up on me - robert 'bob' reynolds
gn!thunderbolts!reader
Summary: When Bob is trying to recover the memories he lost during his time as the Sentry/Void, you open up to him about your own struggles with addiction and memory loss.
Warnings: Mentions of memory loss and mentions of nondescript past drug abuse.
Title From: I Shall Believe - Sheryl Crow
WC: 1.1k
It wasn’t an uncommon place to find Bob at the Watchtower. When he wasn’t tucked into the coziest chair he could find with his nose buried in a book, or trying to handle the chores as a thanks to the rest of the team for doing all the heavy lifting (quite literally), chances were that he would be in the meditation room. Warm lights dimmed low and clouds of essential oils filling the space with scents of soothing eucalyptus and lavender.
The room itself had initially come at the request of Bucky when everyone had moved into the tower. With a handful of veterans and former assassins for roommates, each with their own share of traumas, he thought that everyone might benefit from having a designated room to decompress and destress. In the end however, it was actually Bob who got the most use out of the room.
Nobody had heard from him in quite a few hours and with dinner time approaching, everyone was eager to know whether Bob would be joining the team for the meal or eating alone. So there you were, stalking into the meditation room in hopes of finding him.
Sure enough, he was sat in the middle of the room, cross legged and perched atop a plush cushion in absolute silence with his eyes relaxingly shut. He looked uncharacteristically still, but light in a way that nobody else on the team could manage quite like he could. At least from where you stood.
“Bob,” you quietly approached, clearing your throat to alert him of your presence.
His eyes fluttered open, softening at the sight of you and the sound of your voice.
“Hi,” he simply replied, voice slightly hoarse, but with no trace of frustration at the interruption. “What’s up?”
“You’ve been in here for a few hours. It’s getting close to dinner time and everyone wants to know if you’ll be joining us today or not.”
“Is it really that late already?” he frowned slightly.
“Afraid so,” you replied as sympathetically as you could muster. “What’s always got you so tied up here in the meditation room?” you tried as nonchalantly as possible. Trying your best to convey that he wasn’t under any obligation to answer. He did anyways.
“I’ve been trying to recover my memories,” he said shyly, eyes dropping to his lap. “I read that mediation can help, but I don’t think I’ve made much progress.”
“By memories you mean the time you lose when you’re Sentry, or the Void?” you asked, stepping further into the room.
You settled on the ground directly across from him, mirroring his exact position, knees just shy of touching. He looked up suddenly, seeming surprised that you’d sat so close to him, but not put off by it.
“Yeah,” he sheepishly smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “I guess I figure that if I can remember those moments I might find something useful. Something that’ll tell me how I can be the Sentry without completely spiraling. I’m just tired of feeling like I’m useless to the team.”
It was honest, you could tell. The way he sighed and his shoulders sagged as he finished confirmed as much, but there was something else. Something deeper that he wasn’t sharing. Maybe you should have just left it at that, but the part of you that yearned to get to know him couldn’t help but press.
Opening up had never been your forte. In your line of business, opening up meant leaving yourself vulnerable, exposing each and every one of your weaknesses for anyone and everyone to take full advantage of. It was a stance that everyone on the team had, but it was something you were all decidedly working on. Together.
That’s the only reason you offered up the information so easily. Certainly not because you wanted to know him, and in turn you wanted him to know you just as deeply.
“I used to forget things too,” you confessed. “When I was on a lot of drugs, and I’d have these sort of manic like episodes. When I’d finally get sober I’d have trouble remembering all the things that had happened before.”
“You — you were an addict too?” he asked timidly, head tilted with a frown of confusion on his face. Maybe it hadn’t been the right time to make such a confession. Regardless it was too late to take it back.
“Yeah, I was,” you sighed. “Well maybe I still am. I don’t know, that feeling never really goes away, right?”
It was rhetorical. You didn’t really expect an answer from him, but he gave one anyway.
“No, it really doesn’t,” he nearly whispered, a shy and sad smile creeping across his face. “I think it just gets easier to ignore. Having all of you makes it easier to ignore.”
“Yeah, I think so too,” you answered returning the smile.
“Did you ever figure out how to get those memories back?”
His voice sounded full of hope. As though the next words out of your mouth could hold the secrets of the universe and the power to tilt his world off its axis.
“No, not really,” you answered, voice thick with the type of dissatisfaction that could only come with the truthful reality of a situation. “But I did have mission reports. And journals, and photos, and people who were around me during that time.
“None of it could ever really be the same as the real memories, but real memories are fragile, fickle things anyways. Those records that are these snapshots of those very moments, and the people who were there have given me plenty of information to be able to piece together my own probably very flawed, but just as real and valid version of events.”
He hummed a sad sound of resigned acknowledgment at that.
“Bob,” you pleaded gently.
He met your eyes.
“You have mission reports. And CCTV and news footage. And most importantly, you have us. You don’t need to lock yourself away in here for hours every single day searching for memories that may never come back to you.
“It’s okay not to remember what happened. We’ll all remember for you, okay? And you can remember for us too.”
He smiled more brightly than you think you’d ever seen him smile before. It was a beautifully contagious thing that made you want to reach out and trace the lines of his face to be sure you never forgot what it looked like. What he looked like.
He stood up suddenly, towering over you as he reached his hand out to you.
“Well in that case, aren’t you coming to dinner?”
You took his hand, allowing him to help you up. And if anybody happened to notice that when the two of you walked into the common room together neither of you had let go, they didn’t have anything to say about it.
#—︎ my posts ☕️#robert reynolds#bob reynolds#robert reynolds x reader#bob reynolds x reader#the sentry#the void#mcu#marvel#mcu fanfiction#marvel fanfic#thunderbolts#thunderbolts fanfic#fanfic
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Master post Galladrabbles # 1
Hey! So, even though I wasn't able to participate this week, I have been meaning to do this for a bit since I keep feeding this story and I'm getting tired of linking back to all of the parts soooo.
But also, links to all the original posts in each tittle.
(Btw, stole the idea from the amazing @gallavich-annise who has her Space AU on a master post; go read it i'ts amazing)
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Keeper
“You can’t do this to him”.
“Yeah, I can. I’m his keeper. I have power of attorney”.
Lip is fuming. Ian finally found a way to leave. Thought that if he explained and they talked about it, it would be fine.
But no. Seems like his fucking husband got him committed.
“He was being irrational, Lip. Talking nonsense about leaving. Got all violent when they took him”.
Lip swings at him. “Fuck you”.
He leaves. He needs to get Ian out of there. They need to find a way.
He needs to tell everyone.
He needs to tell Mickey.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Big Bang
(Ian's POV)
The marriage had to end. He planned a Big Bang of sorts. A move which would ensure a cosmic shift. The creation of something new and better.
He’d been miserable for too long.
It didn’t go as intended. Apparently Jordan had a scheme of his own and the wellness center on speed dial.
The orderlies cornered him in their kitchen, grabbing at him roughly; a needle piercing his skin to sedate him. He yelled and fought fiercely, but he refused to beg.
The last thing he heard was Jordan’s voice: “You’ll thank me later, babe”.
Everything went black after that.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Whistle
Mickey thinks of Ian’s excited message announcing that he’d found a way to leave Jordan. He’d promised to head to Mickey’s afterwards, while he rambled about the future, their future. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” he declared at the end like a giddy schoolgirl.
That was hours ago.
Mickey stares intently at the kettle as it whistles loudly, a deafening and irrefutable alarm stating that time’s up.
It’s way past midnight and Ian isn’t coming.
Mickey turns the stove off, locks his front door with a sigh and goes to bed. He should have know better.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Time
The first “family therapy” session is a mess. Ian is sedated and needlessly restrained while Jordan rambles about how “concerned” he is. Ian is mostly out of it, so he only gets snippets.
“He kidnapped a baby once, you know? Just took off.”
“He used to ‘work’ at a club, if you know what I mean”.
When they’re alone Ian finally manages to ask. “When… leave…?”
Jordan grabs his face roughly and hisses at him. “Depends. How long until you understand that unless you come back home to me, you are never getting out?” He smirks. “Take. Your. Time.”
.-.-.-.-.-.-.--.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Coworkers
Mickey sips his morning coffee while he remembers last night’s dream.
Ian and Mickey as coworkers. The details are fuzzy, but it’s a menial office job. They flirt over the watercooler, make out in the supply closet on their breaks. They have passion and each other.
He drops back into reality. Ian broke his promise and never showed up, called or explained. He just disappeared.
Mickey silently thanks him for that mercy. A clean break, no more bullshit.
Once he gets to work, he sees a familiar figure near the door.
Fucking Lip.
Guess he’s not getting his clean break.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.--.-.
Science Fiction
Fucking Lip is here.
Mickey glares at him. It’s not the first time that Ian’s sent Lip to deliver his empty promises.
Unless he’s here to tell him that Ian got abducted by aliens and that’s why he broke his heart, he’s not interested.
This is not science fiction, though. That would at least make more sense.
“Mickey, come on.”
Mickey snarls at him. “Fuck off”.
Lip grabs his arm. “Jordan got him committed, ok?”
Mickey freezes. What?
“Gonna leave him there to rot.”
No, no, no.
“We... Ian needs your help, Mickey”.
Mickey sees red. He’s gonna kill Jordan.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
#gallavich#ian gallagher#mickey milkovich#ian x mickey#galladrabbles#gallavich fanfic#shameless#TW: needles#tw: mental illness#masterpost#gallavich fic
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written in red. 04



vampire!lh x black!reader
read from beginning | 03 | 05
summary: you return to Hamilton's mansion to explore further. wc: 2k a/n: it's all coming together baby...not gonna give anything away but we are on the cusp of our first reveal. feel free to leave all theories and guesses in the comments or shoot them in my inbox!
Julia promises that you’ll never have to write another music-related article again, and you assume this means that soon you’ll have a bunch of election-related assignments lined up as an apology for making you write about pop stars and not politics. What it actually means is that you’ve now been assigned a series of op-eds on whatever asinine social media conversation has become relevant enough to get the publication a few extra clicks.
“Close enough, right?” she’d said over coffee, a smile playing on her round face that could almost be mistaken for apologetic. Julie pushes back a dark strand of hair. “You’ll get there eventually. Baby steps.”
You practically slam your laptop closed as soon as you hit your word count for the night, the green journal on your desk becoming more of a reprieve rather than a side project. Your hot pink Hello Kitty bookmark (a previous birthday gift from your editor) sticks out from one of the entries you had planned to finish before you had to take a call. The spine cracks a little as you open it to the same page.
“It’s been a few months now of this little disappearing act. I still find myself wanting to ride around the estate once in a while, even though it’s a terrible idea and I’ll surely be spotted. It’s quiet here, but sometimes I still hear the roar of someone’s car or motorbike in the distance and wish for the noise of the paddock. Charles made fun of me when I told him I still felt young enough to race. But I do!
Another thing I have gotten too used to: the cameras. It’s hard to picture life without a camera in my face, and now I find myself looking for them, even when there’s no chance that anyone would recognize me these days. I have never been afraid of being watched until now, when it should be certain that no one is watching at all. It’s been too long, people’s eyes aren’t as sharp and I’m not on TV all the time anymore. Wearing a hood certainly helps. People still come to the mansion, though. I just saw an advert for a ‘tour’. I don’t get the concept, but it seems to make people happy. They won’t find anything particularly special there, but they still come. Cameras and all.
Sometimes I imagine myself sneaking onto the grounds in the middle of the night. I’d have a thing of gasoline in one hand, match in the other and just…light the whole thing up. The flames would lap up the front door first, then the first floor and upstairs bedroom. They’d travel up and up until they illuminate the whole sky, like one big bonfire. Maybe I’d even bring s’mores. Wouldn’t that be something?
-LH”
You close the journal, a grin forming on your lips. The man was funny, you had to give him that. Not a ton of information here, but much is implied. For one, Hamilton lived out the rest of his days hiding in plain sight. How a man so recognizable managed such a feat was uncertain. You’d come across pap photos once where they had managed to catch him even in a hoodie and mask, recognizing him by his hands alone. He must’ve done something drastic to his appearance, in that case.
Second, people used to tour the estate once the man had made it clear that no other part of him would be accessible to the public anymore. That was clearly no longer much of a thing, but the weird stalker motorist and Mr. Posh could have been involved in upkeep in the years after.
Your phone vibrates next to you and interrupts your train of thought. It’s an email from your editor, speak of the devil.
Subject: Only cool people can read this Hey girlie! VIII’s team was deeply appreciative of your beautiful concert review. I know you’re tired of the music stuff, but his album will be releasing soon. His management got in touch with me and told me that the artist wants to personally invite you to the listening party! Highly recommend that you go, just to show your face. Details are attached below. Congrats! Best, Julia M.
You shut off your phone with an exasperated sigh. So much for a free weekend.
-
It’s a bright, sunny morning when you arrive at the mansion. You won’t have time to look around in the evening—you’ll be getting ready to schmooze at a listening party instead of investigating.
The cloudless blue sky seems to create space where there isn’t any, making everything feel like it has opened up. It makes the pointed roofs of the place look more majestic than imposing as you pull into the driveway. The plot of grass in the center is overgrown now, various flowering weeds and tall blades billowing in the wind as you make your way up to the entrance.
It smells just as old and damp inside as it did the first time as you walk past the coffee table where you’d found the journal. The stairs still creek beneath your white trainers, but they don’t seem as loud. Like the house is getting used to you. You climb past the first floor and proceed down a narrow hallway. The wallpaper is a deep green color that must have looked vital when it was new, but is now stained and dull beneath a layer of dust. You notice dark, rectangular indents in it that must have been framed photos or paintings. The floor continues to complain under your feet as you make your way to the end of the hall, where one of the doors to a room seems to have been left ajar.
You peak into the gap once you reach it, and gasp quietly. It’s a study. His study. The wallpaper matches that of the hallway, the room small enough to be cozy but not enough to feel cramped.
The study toes the line between vague organization and complete chaos. One one side of the desk, manila folders are neatly sorted in a half-open file cabinet. A messy stack of papers is thrown into a crushed cardboard box on the other. You run a hand over the ornate wooden chair positioned in front of the desk, tilted away just slightly. You imagine someone rising abruptly, perhaps to storm out of the room. It strikes you how clean the surface of the wood is. There’s no dust. Has someone been in recently?
The desk itself seems to have been cleared of the usual office debris. There are, however, a couple of scattered greeting cards on the upper right corner. A birthday card, and another card for retirement. Not exactly news. There’s a picture frame on the opposite corner facing the arched window behind the desk, and you round the desk to take a look.
A large group of people stand in front of what looks to be a garage, all clothed in a uniform the same shade as your father’s jacket. Team photo. You’d recognize that Ferrari red anywhere. Your dad would be ecstatic to know that Hamilton had remained on the team right up until the end.
A ray of light bounces off of two pieces of jewelry sitting next to the photo, and your gaze falls on them next. They’re both rings. One is very classic-looking, a red garnet stone encased in gold. It looks like something a mob boss might wear. The second one looks a bit strange - silver leaves encasing a single white pearl. Very avant-garde, you think. It’s delicate in the way you wouldn’t expect an old sportsman’s jewelry to be. That’s assuming it’s even his. No record of Hamilton ever having gotten married, but you don’t rule out the possibility. You pick it up to examine it more closely, turning it in the light.
You move to pick up the photo again with the ring still resting in the palm of your other hand, blowing off the dust that has created a film over it. Two men are squatting in the very front, and you identify the darker of the two as Hamilton himself. He’s beaming in his red racing suit, a bright yellow helmet between his knees. He has his signature braids tied back into a ponytail. Next to him is a pale brunette man with a square-ish jaw and light, sad-looking eyes. Likely his teammate, whose last name is escaping you. ‘Charles’ something…
Hold on. Charles. Hamilton mentioned him in his journal, making him another potential piece of the puzzle. The two had clearly been close enough to still be in contact long after the man had withdrawn from the public. He might be very old now, but still living. Could he know something…?
Just as you’re about to pull your phone out to look him up, a familiar noise rips through the air. An engine revving. You dare to draw closer to the window and look out into the driveway. Sure enough, he’s there, circling. It’s time to go.
Despite the distance, there’s no way the rider doesn’t see you sprinting out the front door (you really should have found an alternate exit) and towards where your car is parked, whipping out your keys at light speed to unlock it. As soon as you’re inside, you realize that there is metal still digging into your palm. You’re clutching onto something. Slowly, you open your hand.
Fuck, the ring! That’s definitely stealing, but you’ll have to return it a different day. Not like Hamilton will need it back any time soon.
Pocketing the thing in your jacket, you floor it as soon as you’re able to pull out of the driveway. The motorist thankfully doesn’t appear in your rearview, but you hear him rev his engine in the distance. Like a warning.
-
You smooth a hand over the wide-legged black pants you’re wearing, paired with a form-fitting tube top and red pumps to offset all the black. The listening party was advertised to have been “exclusive”, but the size of the crowd could’ve had you fooled. In the months since you’d published your concert review, it seems that VIII has gained quite a few new friends in high places. You spot a couple of influencers snapping photos with both their phones and flashing digital cameras, several other artists with twice his listeners that you recognize in passing but can’t recall the names of, and two journalists whom you can distinguish by the open laptops and knitted brows. It’d be perfectly fitting for you to be here. That is, if you were a music journalist.
You still aren’t sure why you were invited; you’d made it clear to VIII’s manager over email that you wouldn’t be writing an album review, or live tweeting, or whatever. This wasn’t even your lane anymore. You’d only met the man twice anyhow.
Speaking of which, the crowd erupts in applause as the man of the hour emerges from backstage. Even here, he’s still got the fencing mask on. The singer has on a black turtleneck, over which he has on a black leather jacket with a baggier fit. They’re paired with equally-baggy patterned denim jeans that fall over a pair of red Vans. He is given a handheld microphone, and you’re startled again by how quiet his speaking voice is even with the added amplifier.
“Thank you all for coming,” he says. “You definitely didn’t have to be here, spending your evenings listening to my music. My music! I mean…it’s still so crazy to think that enough people care about my art and my journey to fill a concert hall, to fill this room. This’ll be my first full album. And so, I wanted to use it to tell a full story that was worth sitting through the full hour to hear. I hope it is. Worth it, I mean. Enjoy.”
The crowd erupts in applause, and he takes a small bow before stepping off the low stage and approaching the scattered tables, where drinks have begun to be served. You expect him to sit near someone on his team, like a producer or even his manager. You raise an eyebrow in surprise when he takes the empty seat next to you. His movements are slow, tentative, his shoulders slightly hunched as he settles onto the leather stool. The fencing mask is facing you. If you could imagine the facial expression beneath it based on his tone, it would be a timid smile.
“Mind if I sit here?”
You tilt your head with a lopsided grin. “You’re already sitting here. And I’m not really sure why, to be honest.”
A soft chuckle. “What do you mean? I owe, like, half my career to you!”
“Please,” you wave a dismissive hand, “You were already gaining traction by the time I wrote that review.”
“But it was a damn good review. I’d be an asshole not to invite you.”
As kind as the gesture is, you regret sitting where VIII could see you, especially as you’re now sipping idly on champagne. You feel his eyes on you the entire time the album plays despite them not being visible. In the middle of the second track, your phone suddenly buzzes in your pocket. You wait until the singer seems focused on the front of the room, and pull it out discreetly.
It’s a notification from a news article, and the headline makes your blood run cold.
BREAKING: HAMILTON MANSION GOES UP IN FLAMES, AUTHORITIES SUSPECT ARSON.
You shut off your phone with a trembling hand, setting it down on your lap as you stare blankly ahead. Someone has just set part of a man’s legacy on fire, and you’re certain that you are to blame.
#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x black!reader#lh44 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#lightning writes
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Friends In Small Places (Chapter 1)
The size shifter story is finally here! This is more of a slightly sad piece, even though this first chapter isn’t really all that gloomy and monochrome, I actually have this entire plot line planned out and everything, and whew is the ending going to be something.
But I hope you enjoy! (this chapter is mainly just for introductions so I’m sorry if there really isn’t anything interesting TwT)
Word Count: 4.2k
CW: Depression, major anxiety, slight gore warning? (Though nothing actually happens)
1-Liam
Today the main hall was bustling with people crowding the board that had all of the activities and clubs posted on. Most of the time people didn’t care all too much about it, only the people who were actually in those clubs, but today was different for some reason. Fitting in between the seemingly hundreds of people, I saw what the commotion was all about. The psychology classes were all being called to a meeting at four. Which was when most classes ended, but still. It’s rare that this school ever calls meetings. It just so happens that I was taking psychology though.
I sighed, moving back on the free sidewalk get to the library. A friend was waiting for me to help her study for a test she had in just a few hours. I thought I might as well help seeing that I’ve already taken the course. I used to think that college was extremely strict from how my old high school teachers described it, but in reality it’s not that hard when you just take the time to study and take a few practice tests the day before one. It was just two-and-a-half years before I major in psychology and become a therapist. Well, that was my dream anyways. In this world, it was a lot harder given that most therapists get assigned to a size shifter. That was something I didn’t want to do. Well, maybe if it was one who could only shrink, but that’s maybe it. It freaks me out knowing that there are some shifters who could be as tall as a small skyscraper, and some even bigger. A shiver ran down my spine even thinking about it. But that won’t happen.
Among the few people sitting at the quiet tables lines with pencils, a few pieces of notebook paper, and a lamp that barely even worked, there was a girl waving her arms around aimlessly trying to gain my attention. I laughed softly before walking and sitting down next to her. It seemed she had been here for hours with how she kept her space. Papers spewed all across with scribbled down notes that was barely even legible, colored pens in a mixed mess with her other writing supplies. It made you wonder how she had even made it to college.
“I see you’ve been hard at work, Rhya.” I set my slightly heavy bag down and started attempting to clean up the vast sums of paper all over the desk and try to keep her notes in order.
“Yeah well, not everyone can be all neat and tidy as you are.” She lightly elbowed me before grabbing the stack of papers in my hand and shoving them in a folder. I guess she was going to re-do them after all. Either that or she didn’t need them. Despite this being primarily a nursing and health school, Rhya was in the art department. Of course she had to take the core classes along with her own elective, but she plans on becoming a graphic designer.
“It’s not my fault I know how to study and you don’t.” I joked around, watching her pull out her computer and grab a few empty pages on notebook paper and her calculus book.
“And it’s not my fault you don’t know how to have any fun.” She stuck her tongue out playfully before pulling up a practice test.
“Hey I know how to have fun, just not when I know I have better things to worry about.” She solved the first problem right, pumping her fist up in the air as she wrote down the question and highlighted everything she needed to do. I’m also guessing she planned to study whatever notes she was making.
“I guess you have a point. How’s that psychology major coming along?” She had asked, writing down the problem and attempting to solve it. I sighed, pointing to the number she was missing, “You square root that,” Rhya groaned, “It’s going good. We have some kind of weird meeting later today though.”
“Oh? Do you know what about?” Rhya asked, but I could tell she was hiding something from me. She knew something.
“No. Do you?” I skeptically looked at her, earning a side eye right back as she had paused her writing for a moment.
“Would you believe me if I said no?” She grumbled, I shook my head, a slight smile forming on my face. She knew I would win this argument.
“Okay well, this might not be true, but I heard that a few psychology students were chosen to have a training. Like, the real deal kind of thing. Size shifter and all. That the ones chosen were supposed to act like one of those special therapists.” My heart nearly skipped a beat at the news. Where did she even hear this from in the first place? There’s no way that’s even real.
“You’re kidding, right?” I laughed nervously. Even if it was true, I doubt they’d choose a sophomore. I’ve only really had a few practices and I still have a couple more years until I become the real deal.
“Would I lie to you?” She turned to me, a worried look on her face. Did she think I would have to go through with that? I sincerely doubt it. There was no way they’d put me on whatever list they have going on. Maybe my upperclassman though. They could choose Chelsey, she was really good with everyone and a senior. They’d most likely choose her. Maybe even Ryan since he was really experienced. Actually, he was a size shifter himself, but he’s so good at controlling his emotions that he doesn’t even need to worry about accidentally shooting up a couple feet.
“Ah, it doesn’t matter. I doubt they choose someone with barely any experience. Don't’ worry about it.” I smiled, pointing back to Rhya’s computer to tell her that she needed to get to studying and stop worrying about me. Seriously, she really needed to study otherwise she was going to fail. I can almost guarantee that she’ll be crying to me later when she fails her test. Not my fault she doesn’t study.
——————
The gym was a large space, but our entire class only took up one tiny portion of the bleacher space as our instructor and several other people dressed up in fancy suits were talking on the ground. I sat next to Ryan, who was playing with the green-colored band on his wrist, showing that he was in one of the five classes of size shifters. Purple represented that they could shrink down to an inch or maybe even smaller if their emotions had the better of them. Blue represented that they could shrink too, but not as much as the one’s with a purple wrist. Green represented that they could both shrink and grow, but only to a certain height. Yellow meant that the shifter could grow to be the size of about a small building, or maybe even a little more depending on how they’re feeling. Red was by far the worst one. To me at least. The shifter’s with a red band can grow to heights you could only dream of. Which was why all shifters with a red band were all forced to be with a specialized therapist for only them. Because if they lose control of their emotions, it could end pretty badly.
“I’m glad you all saw the announcement on the board. I’m a little surprised really.” Mr. Smith shoved his hands in his front pant pockets, taking a look at all of us before his eyes laid on me, smiling warmly. Why? Something was up.
“These two gentlemen here are the head of the SSU. Also known as the company that helps size shifters in need. Recently, there has been a shortage of individuals that are willing to work with shifters in helping them control themselves. These two are on the look for candidates-in-training to help fill those missing spots.”
The two men in suits walked to the front, holding out a clipboard. Those had whoever was going to be picked for this. But why this school? There was another college not too far from here. They could choose from them. Unless they were, and the “tiny” shortage was actually a big one. Or… no. They wouldn’t do that, right? It’s the SSU, they’ve literally helped the world become safer for decades. They wouldn’t be doing an experiment, would they?
“It’s wonderful to see all sixty-two of you young scholars gathered here today. As your professor already said, we are both from the head office at SSU looking for the best of the best to fill in those empty spots, regardless if you do or don’t have any experience.” That last part made a shiver run down my spine. Ryan turned his head to me, patting me on the back. There was no way they’d choose a nobody like me. No way in hell.
“This list contains twenty of you who will be taking part in this. You will be in charge of taking care of your designated partner until we can find a professional replacement suited well enough to take over. If I call your name, please stay behind after we dismiss everyone.” The tall man smiled, looking down at the clipboard and calling several names. The anxiety pricked my skin like icicle shards, it had almost seemed like the man reading off names was speaking in slow motion. A few deep breaths, and it was back to normal.
“Ryan Wright.” He smiled while earning several compliments and congratulations from his fellow classmates.
“Chelsey Torres.” She giggled a few seats away from us.
“And Liam Rover.”
My muscles tensed up at the mention of my name. I couldn’t tell if my heart had stopped or if it was just beating horrifyingly fast. I could tell people were trying to praise me, but I couldn’t hear, their appraisal only reaching my ears in a muffled and slow manner. I managed the most sincere smile I could while trying to hide how much I was trembling. Maybe this would be okay? Maybe I’ll be lucky and not be paired up with a shifter who could potentially crush me between two if their fingers if they really wished to. Was the room cold or was it just me?
“Everyone else may head to their dorms. Thank you for coming.”
After everyone had filed out of the empty gym, the other shorter man dressed in an identical suit as the taller one started calling out our names all over again, handing them a red folder with presumedly the shifter we’ll be assigned. Was this how it was when you’re actually a professional? You just get assigned to one? You don’t get to know them or anything?
Once I was handed my folder, I dreaded every single second of opening it. Please let it be easy, please let it be easy, please let it be eas-
Oh.
It was only a picture of who we were partnered up with and anything that might be worth mentioning about them. Wow was I overreacting. Then again, that didn’t exactly smoothen out the anxiety that was still pricking at my skin. Though, this shifter didn’t seem so bad. If anything, he actually looked pretty nice. The only thing I had noticed was that he was diagnosed with depression. He kind of looked like it too if I were being honest. It seemed hard for him to smile for the picture. Why did I also get the hint that he wasn’t feeling very good either? I guess I’ll find out when we officially meet.
“Inside you’ll find who your partner will be for the foreseeable future. You’ll still be coming to your classes, which was why we mainly wanted to stick with the upperclassmen, and afterward go back to where we are currently housing your designated shifter. You have three days to pack everything you need and want, and you’ll soon be living off campus. Just think of it was having a roommate that needs constant supervision.”
Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. I’m almost entirely confident that this shifter won’t really be a big deal. I mean, he looks about a year or two younger than me. So he just graduated high school? Agh, I have no idea. I’m just jumping to conclusions. But, hopefully they won’t make me handle anything crazy. That I can’t do.
——————
They were driving me across the city to go meet up with the shifter I’ll be taking care of for however long. For all I know it could be a few days or weeks. I would think someone would want to step up for the job instead of letting students do this, but I guess not. Chelsey and Ryan have texted me a few times that they were getting settled in already while I was still heading over. It was already around thirty minutes just to get across the place, so that means I’ll have to take a bus almost everyday just to make it to my classes. That’s just great, but I’m in no position to complain. I actually tried talking with Professor Smith about it, but he told me that he had no say in the matter at all, which was weird. I doubt he would want his younger students to even take part in this.
Along the streets were the many, many buildings that both accommodated for humans and their much larger or smaller companions. Although I’ve only ever been around Ryan about twice when he’s giant, it really wasn’t that bad. He can only grow till someone was like the height if his entire hand so it really wasn’t even that bad. Of course it’s still nerve-racking, but I trust him. Plus, we were at a small party with our little friend group. I doubt he could even bring himself to hurt someone. So really I wasn’t too worried. The only other shifter I’ve been around is an old high school friend of mine, but she goes to a different college now.
Hundred of houses passed by us as we drove into a little neighborhood. What really made me worried was that the driver wasn’t exactly stopping at the normal-sized houses. Where was he going? I watched grimly as some of the huge houses we passed by came to a halt to one on the very end of one of the many streets. This one wasn’t as big as the other one’s down the street, but it wasn’t exactly small either. At least to me. So… I was paired up with a shifter who could only grow. That’s great. Just… great.
I grabbed my bag and the small suitcase I had brought with me that was just full of my clothes and some stuff for school. Well if I’m supposed to stay here almost all of the time now I have to find something to keep me busy. And apparently from the immense size difference that will be between my new roommate and I. Of course I was terrified! If he really is diagnosed with depression and was a shifter who grew that only made matters worse for me. I hope whoever plans to take over for me does it soon.
It took me and the driver to reach the doorstep, but eventually the driver gave it a knock. I swear I could hear some mumbling coming from the other side, but I didn’t dwell too much on that. Most.y because the extremely large door started to open slowly, but I saw no one on the other side. Maybe he was shy?
“Well I may take my leave, though I have been ordered to tell you that a bus comes in the morning at around 6 just down the street from here, and another will take you back here around 5 and 8. Also, if anything goes wrong, to call this number on your phone.” He handed me a folded slip of paper, then took his leave. I shoved the slip in my pocket, hesitantly taking a few steps into the huge house.
It was neatly cleaned around the place, though I couldn’t really see from my view on the ground. Everything around me was huge. I mean I’ve been to one of the rooms on the bigger side of the campus, but those rooms were smaller. It’s not an entire house filled with furniture.
As I took a few steps out more, I jumped when the door had lightly closed behind me. My eyes trailed up and up, finding the face of the person I had seen in the picture. His eyes grew wide when I met his gaze, then bit the bottom of his lip before sliding his back against the wall behind him.
Everything in my body told me to run, but if I did then I would only get scolded for it later. This isn’t even what I wanted to be! I wanted to be a normal therapist that helps regular adults and kids feel better. Not a human who could easily trap me in a fist and just kill me. I would have been fine if they could only shrink, but this was much worse.
I faced down, taking a few deep breaths that barely even help me in this situation. I had to take care of someone fifty times my own size? How was that even possible? There weren’t even any smaller sized things around this place. Nothing that could help me get around easier either!
I guess I could attempt to get his name. I mean, nothing could go wrong then, right? Just maybe from a distance… even if he could, at any point in time, just grab me whenever he so wanted. I felt sick just thinking about being held. Wouldn’t I have to be though? I can’t exactly just climb everywhere I want to go.
“H-hi. Um, I’m Liam.” I forced myself to walk closer, even under his gaze, but I stopped walking closer when he moved himself further in the corner, looking a bit saddened. He probably knew I was scared. Maybe. I hope I’m some-what hiding it well enough. Though, I’ve never really been that good at it.
“Oh, um, C-Casper. You can call me Cas if you want.” He kept his voice to a very quiet whisper. So he knew that if he talked too loud it would hurt my ears. At least he’s self-aware. Though, I couldn’t help but feel bad. I may be utterly terrified of him, but I mean he hasn’t really given me a reason to be truly scared, yet.
“Nice to m-meet you, Cas.” I put on my best fake genuine smile. What? Have to find some way to convince him I wasn’t scared. Even if my body was trembling like crazy and my heart threatened to just come right out of my mouth.
“Y-you too, sir.” His hand slightly twitched, but he just shook his head, giving me a sad look. ‘Sir?’ Why did he call me that? I didn’t dwell on it. Instead, I turned to look at the place, not finding a place to put my stuff. I sighed, hurrying to place it up against the wall opposite of Cas. This would be fine. Yeah, yeah.
Casper, overall, seemed pretty nice. He had a black, messy hair that complimented his light-brown eyes. He wore a baggy long-sleeve shirt with a pair of jeans I have no idea why he was just wearing jeans in his own house, but it’s whatever he wants to do. Not my place to comment. The only real thing that caught my attention were the light bags in his eyes. Has he been sleeping?
“Did you want to come here? Like, willingly?” He had asked, slightly leaning a little closer to my spot in the middle of the floor. I admit, it made me a little uneasy, but I don’t think he realized it. It just made it really hard to answer his question when all I could think about was how easily he could kill me right now. He wouldn’t do that, right? He seems so nice. Even if I’m barely two inches to him and I could easily just be crushed or accidentally killed if he wasn’t being too mindful. I shuddered at the thought, but forced my voice to work with me.
“I-I’m just a student at a college. They just told us we were going to help out shifters, for like, real-world training I guess.” I started speaking a little fast and I could hear my voice slowly get quieter the more Cas seemed to lower his body to me. I felt so small compared to him. It’s overwhelming really, but it’s not like I can just back out. I already asked and they said if I did then I wasn’t cut out to stay in the classes. Seriously, all I wanted was to either be a therapist or a social worker. Not take on these huge responsibilities of making sure an entire living being is doing okay and doesn’t have any malicious intent to just… Aghhhh.
“Oh. Well, I’m not exactly the best person to be paired up with.” He laughed sadly, holding up his wrist and revealing a red band. A little squeak left my mouth as I stood in place, practically frozen in fear. Why did they pair me up with him? They gave me more than I can handle. There was no way I could do this. I bit the side of my cheek, struggling to keep my composure.
Cas caught onto my fear, scooting as far away from me as he could while making sure I wouldn’t freak out. Why did he move away? I was going to be fine. I think- But I was okay. Just as long as I keep a certain distance from him for a while. It takes me a long time to adjust to new things, and this might take me a while, but I couldn’t just do nothing. It was obvious to me that Cas was afraid of something, I just couldn’t figure out what just yet.
“I’m fine, Cas, I promise.” I nervously smiled, hiding how terrified I was. Shifters with a red band can grow to heights you could only dream of. Great. Seriously, what have they done? They think I can handle someone who already looks like he’s struggling to keep himself together just by meeting me? I didn’t really want to find out what would happen if he doesn’t contain his emotions. Was there a person partnered up with him before? I knew I wasn’t going to be getting any answers, but there was no harm in asking them.
“O-Okay,” He whispered, getting in a more comfortable sitting position, “Are you sure though? I don’t mind giving you an hour or two to get used to… everything.” He looked away for a second, and I could tell something was on his mind. Along with the constant moving away every time I had tried to walk closer, or when he knew I was scared of him, I would think to say that he’s scared of himself. Or, at least hurting other people. It makes sense actually. I’ve heard stories that a lot of shifters realize that they can really hurt people and just try their hardest not to interact with people smaller than themselves. It’s like they collapse on themselves since they don’t want to hurt anyone. I guess Cas and I weren’t so different.
“Okay, look, it’s obvious that you’re more afraid of yourself than I am of you,” Cas’s eyes widened, “How about we both try to help each other out? I’ll keep trying if you do.” I held out my hand without thinking. A compromise between the two of us. I know we both met like five minutes ago, but I’m pretty sharp for people my age with little experience. But, honestly, maybe this wasn’t so bad. I think all that Cas wanted was the relief that he won’t hurt people. Or something like that.
“You’d go through with all that? I’m not exactly mentally stable.” I could tell that he was worried, but I just nodded my head, a genuine smile on my face that I hoped he could see.
He eyed my hand for a while, and I still hadn’t realized what was wrong until he lightly pinched my hand between the tip of his pointer and thumb, barely even lifting it up and down for my own sake. Oh he has no idea how scared I was right now, but he didn’t have to know that. Just a little more pressure and he could just yank my arm right off-I shook that thought away. Don’t think about that right now. It would be okay. Just as long as I get an idea of what to do when he does eventually lose control or something. I had zero idea. I think the thought that stuck in the back of my mind was making me more worried than anything really. I’m just a stress toy for him. But I’ll just have to get over my fear. There was no way I would let this stop me from graduating. Not in a million years.
——————
Sorry for a slightly boring chapter! I did a LOT of world building for this one, and had to map out almost every single interaction through the course of the entire story plot. There also wasn’t much g/t but again, it’s just an introduction chapter. (I’m doing what I love and no one can stop me hehehe-)
But I hope you enjoyed reading! I promise the second chapter will have a much, much better g/t interaction. (Oh trust me it will >:3) I hope you all have a great day/night!
#g/t#g/t writing#g/t community#G/t angst#sfw g/t#giant/tiny#size shifter#Oc: Liam#Oc: Casper#Friends In Small Places#I wonder why Liam wants to graduate so badly 👀#I guess you’ll have to read to find out#Otherwise this is pretty much it#Do I do the Minecraft story next?#Technically chapter 2 of this is already halfway done-#I might#Idk#The Minecraft one is more fast paced though…#Aghhh idk#love you guys ❤️
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guys. listen i am gripping you by the shoulders. she is. so awful. so sad. so tragic. i love her.
#FRANKENSTEIN YOU COMPLICATED ABSOLUTE MESS OF A HUMAN BEING I LOVE HER. five million problems. 6 million#if i had a nickel for every time i became obsessed with a character who loved science and life until some awful accident of their own doing#left them alone for over 30 years to grapple with the weight of their mistakes and the one who cause that loss#until they convinced themselves it was just meant to be this way. things couldn’t change.#but then they meet people who love and appreciate them and wow it turns out i don’t have to be alone!!#the science friend comment lives in my head rent free don’t mind me#i would have at least 2 nickels#you’ll never guess who the other one is ahahhaha#the glass scientists#tgs frankenstein#stanford pines#i need them to be friends. i need more about frankenstein’s backstory post-book. what did she do.#how did they deal.#uhhh#the punching one of the main beloved cast and being therefore hated was also a fun parallel#i have a type (but like… platonic? what do you call this)#the scarf <333333#me and the five people who’ve read this comic and find this. we’re standing in a circle and singing songs#my art
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Oscar climbing au
#this is him at like the junior world cup#he’s good okay#he’s just a little boulder boy#he’s like 16 ish I dunno#I guess you’ll have to read the fic to find out 👀#oscar piastri#oscar piastri fanart#op81#op81 fanart#f1 fanart#f1#mclaren#seriously contemplating making this in colour
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Idk what I'll do if stomega don't end up together😭😭😭😭 I need them to be together so bad 💔💔
I need stomega endgame more than I need to breathe
But
Just bc I NEED something, doesn’t mean it’s right for me 😔😔😔
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Marked What's Mine
Pairings: husband!bucky barnes × wife!reader
Summary: You can hold your own—always have. But that doesn’t stop your husband from going full Winter Soldier mode when he sees someone laid a hand on you.
Warnings: Language, injuries, soft-but-intense husband!Bucky, protective behavior, possessiveness, comfort, fluff, violence mentioned (not graphic), "who did this to you?", lots of banter.
Word count: 1.3k+
A/n: this fic is from my poll where husband au and who did this to u prompt won. I will do the enemies to lovers in my next fic. Thank you for reading <3.
Divider credits: @saradika
Night- 1:47 AM
You turned the front doorknob with all the delicacy of a trained assassin—which, to be fair, you were.
No sound. Good.
You stepped inside, sliding your shoes off silently and tiptoeing like the floorboards might narc on you. You could practically hear your heartbeat in your ears.
He’d be asleep. He had to be.
You could get to the bathroom, clean up, hide the worst of it. He didn’t have to know. You didn’t want him to worry, to spiral. Not again.
You made it three steps down the hallway.
Then— “Don’t move.”
Shit.
His voice cut through the silence, low and lethal. It came from the living room.
You closed your eyes. "Hi, honey. I'm home."
A light flipped on.
Bucky stood by the couch, arms crossed, half in shadow. The sight of him—barefoot, hoodie loose over his broad chest, hair tousled from waiting up—would’ve been comforting, if not for the look in his eyes.
His gaze traveled from your face to your arms, your ribs, where blood had started to seep through your shirt.
He didn’t say a word.
You tried to play it off. “Before you say anything, it looks worse than it is—”
His voice dropped to a whisper.
“Who did this to you?”
You exhaled slowly. “Buck—”
“Don’t. Just…” His jaw clenched. “Stay right there.”
“Bucky, it’s fine. I dodn’t even need stitches—”
“You’re bleeding.” His voice trembled with something dangerous. “You’re limping. You snuck into your own damn house like a thief because you knew I’d lose it if I saw you like this. And guess what? You were right.”
He was in front of you in three long strides.
His hands—warm, shaking—came up to cup your face, careful to avoid the bruises.
“You weren’t supposed to see me like this,” you whispered. “You’d only worry.”
“I worry when you’re five minutes late for lunch. You think this is gonna lessen that?”
“I’m not made of glass—”
“You’re made of everything I live for.”
Your breath caught.
He scanned your injuries with haunted eyes. “Who did this?”
“It’s not important.”
“It is to me.”
You sighed. “I didn’t want you to spiral. Last time you saw me with a busted lip, you threatened to drown a guy in the Hudson.”
“I should’ve.”
“Bucky—”
“Tell me his name.”
You met his eyes. “If I do, you’ll find him.”
He didn’t deny it.
“And if I don’t?” you added.
“I’ll find him anyway.”
You groaned. “You are the most dramatic man I’ve ever met.”
He lifted you into his arms like it was nothing—like you didn’t have two working legs—and carried you down the hall.
“I’m intense,” he corrected. “Not dramatic.”
“You literally brooded in the dark waiting for me to get home.”
“You really thought I wouldn’t notice? Like my wife could come home hurt and I wouldn’t feel it in my chest?”
You let out a weak laugh. “God, you’re annoying.”
“You married me, doll. That’s on you.”
Twenty Minutes Later...
You sat on the bathroom counter while Bucky dabbed antiseptic over the cuts along your ribs, his brows furrowed like each mark physically hurt him more than it hurt you.
He hadn’t stopped touching you.
Even now, his thumb rubbed soft circles into your thigh as he worked.
“Doesn’t even sting,” you said.
“That’s not the point,” he muttered, placing another bandage carefully. “You came home bleeding. You flinched when you took your shirt off. You snuck in.”
“I didn’t want to see your sad little kicked puppy face,” you teased.
He glared. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“No, you’re lucky I love you. You’re high maintenance.”
“Says the woman who took on a six-foot mercenary solo and got cracked in the jaw for it.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You think I didn’t win?”
He paused. “Wait. You won?”
“Cracked three of his ribs and made him cry.”
He stared.
Then—slowly—he grinned.
“That’s my girl.”
You tried not to bask in it, but you totally basked in it.
Still, he wasn’t done.
As he finished wrapping the final gauze, he stood between your legs and stared at you like you held gravity in your hands.“I breathe for you,” he said, voice barely a whisper. “That’s it. That’s the only reason I get up in the morning.”
Your throat went tight. “Bucky—”
“You come home hurt, and it feels like the world’s off its axis. I can’t think. Can’t function. You’re not fragile, babe. You’re the strongest person I know. But the thought of losing you? I’d lose everything.”
God.
You buried your face in his chest, arms tight around him.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Too late. You did. You always do.”
You looked up. “You’re a menace, you know that?”
“You love it.”
“Unfortunately.”
He grinned and kissed your forehead.
Next Day – 2:00 PM
You woke up to an empty bed and a note on the pillow:
Had to step out. Be back soon. Don’t move too much or I’ll find out and carry you around like a baby until you learn your lesson. I love you more than oxygen.
—B <3
You rolled your eyes.
And sighed.
And smiled.
He came back at sunset. Calm. Too calm.
You didn’t even have to ask.
“You found him, didn’t you?”
He dropped his jacket. “Yeah.”
“And?”
“He’s not gonna be walking straight for a while.”
“Bucky…”
“And probably won’t be talking much either.”
You stared at him.
“He’ll live. Probably,” Bucky said with a shrug. “I was nice. For the first ten seconds.”
“Jesus—”
“He laid a hand on you. You really think I wasn’t gonna rearrange his face?”
You huffed, arms crossed, but you were secretly touched. And maybe a little turned on.
“You are so dramatic.”
“No. Dramatic is you sneaking past your literal super soldier husband with blood dripping down your shirt.”
“Fine,” you muttered, walking toward him. “You win.”
He caught you easily, arms pulling you in.
“I always win, doll,” he murmured, kissing your bruised temple. “Especially when it comes to you.”
The Next Morning – 9:07 AM
Sunlight filtered lazily through the curtains, painting golden stripes over the bed where you were curled up like a cat. One leg over the sheet. A little sore. A little achy. But warm.
Bucky stirred beside you, his metal arm slung protectively over your waist.
“You awake?” you mumbled.
“Was watching you breathe,” he rasped, voice still sleep-rough. “You twitch your nose when you’re dreaming.”
“You’re creepy.”
“You married me, sweetheart. This is your fault.”
You snorted, rolling to face him, wincing a little. He was already awake, already watching you with that look. Like you were sacred. Untouchable. His.
“You hurting?” he asked immediately, shifting to sit up. “Need painkillers? Water? I can carry you to the bath—”
“Bucky.”
He blinked.
“I’m okay. It’s just a bruise, not a broken limb. Stop hovering.”
“I’m not hovering.”
“You’re three seconds from spoon-feeding me cereal.”
“…Is that an option?”
You groaned and buried your face in his chest.
“You’re insufferable.”
He chuckled, warm and smug, tucking you tighter under his chin. You stayed like that for a while. Tangled limbs. Warm sheets. His fingers trailing soft patterns on your back like he couldn’t stand not touching you.
“Don’t do that again,” he whispered finally.
You didn’t pretend to not hear it. “Okay.”
“I know you’re strong. I know you can take care of yourself. But if something happens to you—I stop breathing. You get that?”
You swallowed hard. “I get it.”
“I love you so much it makes me a little insane.”
“Only a little?”
“I toned it down for your sake.”
You giggled. “You’re cute when you’re crazy.”
“Good. Because you’re stuck with me.”
You looked up, brushed the hair from his forehead, kissed him slow.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fluff#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x you#sebastian stan x reader#bucky x reader#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfiction#who did this to you#protective husband#husband!bucky#avengers fanfiction#avengers
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𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄
- sylus x reader
you and your lover are hailed and feared, but who would have guessed that behind closed doors, both of you are just that — lovers?
genre/warnings: very suggestive, making out, fluff, comfort, period cramps, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc), loosely based on sylus' secret times: midnight warmth & exclusive care!
note: very self-indulgent bye pls don't look at me :') this fic is a companion to assassin!reader series (strictly (un)professional and jealousy incarnate)
“Who’s ther— lord! Missus! What happened to you!?”
On a rainy night, you staggered into the base, drenched and covered with dirt. Your steps were unsteady as you made your way through the front door, and the first person to see you, Luke, was so shocked by the sight that he rushed to your side.
“Kieran! Call Boss!” he shouted to his twin, who immediately sprinted off to find him, steadying you. “Are you injured?”
“No,” you hissed, wincing as you clutched your abdomen. “Let go, I’m fine—” But before you could finish, you missed a step and—
—fell into Luke's arms.
In that very instant, Luke genuinely feared for his life. He squeaked and stammered, incoherent sounds escaping him, because oh lord— if Boss sees me ever touching his woman—
“What are you doing?”
And there came his nightmare. Sylus’ deep voice cut through like a blade, marking the arrival of doomsday itself.
“B-Boss! It isn’t what it looks like!” Luke quivered, desperately trying to explain himself.
However, Sylus paid him no mind and exhaled sharply, immediately moving over to pull you out of Luke’s grasp. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine!” you insisted, pulling away from him while staggering. “I’m not wounded or anything. Just... I just need a bath, please.”
Sylus eyed you from top to bottom. You had just been out for a reconnaissance, and yet you looked as though you had been through a tornado and back. Disheveled, your dress was smeared with mud and dirt, and even grime clung to your hair.
“Did you fall into a sewer or something?” he questioned, and he knew he had hit a nerve when you shot him a glare.
But you spared him no answer, walking away with labored breaths and a hand pressed against your lower belly. It was clear you were in pain, and the sight tugged at him as he followed you.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his concern growing. “What hurts?”
“You don’t have to fuss over me—” your breath hitched, feeling exhausted, and ashamed all at once. “Just my period, nothing much,” you murmured in a quieter voice so the twins wouldn’t hear.
As you reached the stairs to the second floor, you felt like collapsing. Did you really have to climb these stairs, too?
As if reading your mind, Sylus let out a sigh, but you nearly squealed when he lifted you into his arms.
“You’ll get dirty!” you rebuked, even as he took large strides up the stairs. “Sylus!”
“Just hold onto me.” He shot you a pointed look. “You can’t even walk without gasping for air, and you still want to climb the stairs? You’ll end up rolling and breaking your back.”
Despite your protests, your lover immediately brought you to his bathroom and sat you down on the sink. He turned the hot water on and then faced you.
“So? What did you get yourself into?” he asked, his red eyes narrowing in dissatisfaction. “You were fine, and you didn’t face anyone.”
You pressed your eyes shut, leaning against the wall, resigned to explain. “Fell into mud. Totally idiotic, I know, but my cramps started right before, so…”
“I don’t recall you experiencing this before. What brought this on?”
You met his gaze indignantly, retorting, “Well, a certain someone banged me so hard last night, and I got my period right after.”
It was quite unexpected, but still answered his concern. So, to that, Sylus snorted and tousled your hair, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Ah, sorry, I guess?”
You pursed your lips, aware of how unapologetic he was. He smirked and added, “Now that I’m dirty too... I suppose we’ll have to take a bath together.”
“Are you mad? Do you want to get covered in my blood?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Why not—”
“No,” you retorted firmly, clearly irked. “You take the bath after me, and that’s final.”
. . .
“Put your arm around my neck,” Sylus commanded when you both emerged from the bath and already dressed in silk bathrobes. You complied, and he swiftly lifted you into a princess carry, bringing you to the bed.
Despite yourself, your heart fluttered at his action. He set you down gently, and the moment your back met the soft surface, you relished it and let out an involuntary moan. “Ahh...”
Your voice was soft and sultry, though tinged with a hint of pain. Sylus placed his hand gently on your face. “Your cheeks are warm,” he noted. “And you still look pale.”
"Mmm," you mumbled, suddenly the total fatigue catching up to you as you leaned into his touch. Seeing you so pliant like this seemed to flip a switch inside him, and he immediately settled next to you and placed his huge hand on your lower belly, pressing down on it.
“What are you doing?” you frowned.
“I’m giving you a massage,” he replied. “Stop squirming. I’m trying to pamper you here.”
“You don’t have to…”
“My woman is in enough pain that she doesn’t talk back to me. It’s feels off.”
“...actually, you suck. You’re too rough.”
Taking your whine into account, he adjusted his touch, softening his pressure. "How is it? Better?"
You didn’t immediately reply, indulging in the warm sensation, letting out a sigh as you squeezed your eyes shut. “Mm... Yeah, it feels good now. Don’t stop…”
There was something quietly erotic about watching you, usually so defiant, surrender to his touch like this. Sylus felt a deep, protective satisfaction as he continued his gentle ministrations—
But after a while...
Before he could stop himself, he leaned in, pulling you closer as he buried his face in your shoulder, inhaling deeply, savoring the scent of the bath foam you had just shared. “Mmm…”
You were caught off-guard and shivered at his breath tickling your skin, eyes fluttering open. “Sylus…” you murmured, a mix of protest and surprise in your voice.
But he didn’t pull away, his lips lingering against your skin, his gaze fixed on your bare neck, whispering, “Just relax. I’ve got you.”
Then, when he suddenly nibbled on your neck, you jolted awake. The gentle bite on your sensitive skin sent another shiver down your spine, stirring a mix of warmth that made your pulse race.
But he didn't stop there, as Sylus trailed your neck with a series of kisses and wet sucks, his breath hot against your skin. Soon, the only sounds filling the room were his quiet sighs and the soft noises of his lips as he continued to bite and pepper kisses on your skin, over and over.
“Ngh…” Each touch left you almost breathless, and the heat between you growing with every passing moment, making your toes curl and you moan softly by his ear.
“Hold me,” he gruffly whispered, and as if bewitched, you clung to his shoulders. He let out a husky chuckle. “Not too hard, or you won't be able to sleep later.”
“And whose fault would that be?” you quipped, entangling your legs with his, savoring the warmth of his body against yours.
“I’ve spoiled you rotten, haven’t I... sweetie?” he murmured amidst kisses, his tone laced with intrigue and his burgundy eyes flashing with a glint. “Just let me have my fill for a while.”
If you had a mirror, you’d see the hickeys forming on your neck, but instead of fighting him, you pulled him closer, letting out breathy moans freely and massaging his scalp as if urging him to go further.
“Naughty vixen—you are,” Sylus rasped deliciously in your ear, thick with desire and restraint as his grip on you tightened. “Tempting me, knowing full well I can’t do anything to you…”
A low giggle slipped from your lips. “Unfortunately… I learn from the best.”
Hard to get, snarky, taunting... You were the bane of his existence, and yet Sylus wouldn't have it another way. Your defiance and teasing only deepened his affection, making every challenge you presented feel like an irresistible part of what drew him to you.
He knew when his patience was on the verge of snapping, so to end it, he sucked hard on your shoulder one last time, making sure to leave another mark there. The squelching sound reverberated through both of you, before he pulled away and planted a firm kiss on your forehead, a gesture of both dominance and fondness for you.
“Now sleep,” he grounded out. “Your body has been through enough.”
“Mngh...” you whined, curling into him in contentment, your head nestled against his toned chest where you could feel his strong, steady heartbeat. “Really unfair...”
“You're going to feel better soon...” he sighed, one hand soothing your back and the other resting on your waist. “And as soon as you do...”
A wicked grin curved his lips.
“I'll pick up where I left off.”
#sylus x reader#lads sylus x reader#love and deepspace x reader#l&ds x reader#lads x reader#love and deepspace x you#lads x you#l&ds x you#sylus x you#sylus smut#sylus fic#lads smut#l&ds fic#lads sylus#sylus l&ds#sylus love and deepspace#love and deepspace smut#love and deepspace#l&ds smut#love and deepspace sylus#l&ds sylus#l&ds scenarios#lads scenarios#love and deepspace scenarios#lads fic#love and deepspace fic#lnds
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you show your husband some affection, thinking you two were alone - only to be interrupted by your son.
tags. dad!toji fushiguro x wife!female reader. fluff, suggestive. mentions of toji developing / having a dad bod. & reader having a mom bod. reader gets called ‘princess, mama (by gumi)’. baby gumi waking up bcs of a nightmare. excuse me - not beta read bcs i was half asleep when writing this rt_t

“tooooji,” you smile as you enter the kitchen. you’ve put megumi to bed - finally - and have the chance to spend some one-on-one time with your dear husband. both of you deserve the rest after a hard day of work.
toji has been putting the dishes back in their designated spots whilst you were away. the dark-haired man turns his head to the side once he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist. a small grin tugs at his lips, “missed me, princess?”
you roll your eyes. even if years have passed since your marriage, toji has not stopped using that specific nickname for you. he loves calling you ‘princess’, because that’s what you’ll always be to him. in his eyes, at least.
“mhm,” you decide to indulge him. you bury your face into his broad back, feeling the muscles he’s worked so hard on obtaining. after megumi was born, toji did let himself go for a bit, but that is a good sign.
it means he’s content with his life - this peaceful life that he’s settled down for with no regrets. no more being reckless, no more battling for money; he’s now got a family to come back home to after all.
“is the little brat asleep?” toji asks while putting the last dish away. he’s visibly enjoying your warm hands that have slid under his shirt. your skin is so soft to the touch compared to his.
you chuckle and nod to his question. “gumi’s sleeping like a baby,” you rub your husband’s stomach gently, feeling the little bumps of his fading abs. you’re loving his new body - just as much as toji loves yours.
toji turns around to face you, desperately needing to return the favor. he can’t get enough of being with you. his rough hands grab your waist and bring you closer against his body, until your chests are nearly touching. he lowers his head to your neck, “that means i can show my wife how much i love her, yeah?”
you shiver at how toji’s voice turns from soft and gentle to sexual and husky. big hands find their place on your tummy, massaging the loose skin with its stretch marks. you can hear your husband’s breath hitch. “fuck,” toji swallows his spit, his fingers moving to grasp your hips.
toji loves how your hips got wider after you’ve given birth to your child. every change in your body, whether big or small, is completely welcomed by him. your body has blessed toji with a son he loves and he’ll forever be grateful for that fact. the least he can do is take his time to appreciate you.
“so beautiful,” toji sighs as he leaves soft pecks on your neck and throat. his fingers are working their way down to your thighs and ass—not leaving a single patch of skin untouched. his lips eventually find yours and you melt into his embrace.
it’s getting heated and the tension is palpable. toji’s about to lift you into his arms when you catch a glimpse of a short figure in the doorway. your eyes widen and you immediately detach your lips from your husband’s.
toji quickly catches on and sighs. he cocks his head to the left, the sight of his toddler standing at the doorway coming into view. “damn kid,” he whispers, nearly pouting because of the interruption. you playfully slap his bicep—a warning to fix his potty mouth in front of megumi.
“h-hey, gumi,” you say with an awkward giggle, walking towards the child. you fix your shirt in the meantime, straightening the material. you crouch down to megumi’s level and pat his head tenderly, “what happened? why are you out of bed?”
megumi stares up at you with teary eyes. he’s clenching onto his dog plushie, hugging the stuffed animal to his little body. you can easily guess that he’s scared—probably because of a nightmare. he’s been getting those more frequently.
though, instead of explaining himself, megumi searches for answers to something else. he points at his dad who’s leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. the toddler then looks back at you like he’s made some big discovery;
“mama papa kissing!”
you nearly choke on your spit. megumi’s a clever little boy and it shows through his advanced vocabulary. you’re surprised that he’s learnt what that meant already. you try to deny what your child said, “no, uhm, mama and papa were just hugging!”
toji snorts at your half assed excuse. he lazily walks over to you two, hands in his pockets. he bends forwards and looks megumi in the eyes with a huge smirk on his face. “yeah, we were. ‘n you totally ruined it,” he utters without any shame and menacingly sticks his tongue out at the little boy.
you hiss and lightly shove toji—he cannot take anything seriously. you’re trying your best to distract megumi’s attention from what he’s seen his parents do, to what his reason is for waking up.
“did you have a nightmare again?” you coo and pick your son up. he instantly snuggles up to you and presses his face against your chest in search of comfort. you smile and can conclude that your assumptions are right.
you pet megumi’s head whilst softly humming one of his favorite lullabies. toji watches your interaction with his son and his mood softens once more. he silently hugs you from behind—also wrapping an arm around megumi—turning it into a little family group hug.
“y’re all right, buddy,” toji mutters to megumi and the little boy sniffles in response, “mama ‘n papa ‘re right here.”
after a couple minutes, you carry megumi back to his room before putting him down in his bed. your husband stands next to you as you make sure your kid is tucked in properly.
megumi stares up at you with a sniff and you nearly melt at the adorable sight. you brush his bangs out of his eyes and kiss his forehead, wishing him a good night. the toddler nods and hugs his plushie to his chest again, still a bit shaken up from the nightmare. however, he’s doing a lot better after he got comforted by both his parents.
“sweet dreams, gumi,” you whisper and rub megumi’s cheeks with a fond smile on your lips. toji simply stares at you conversing with megumi—his face showing little to no emotion. though, from within, toji is absolutely in awe at your motherly personality. you’re the perfect mother.
megumi gets drowsy and tosses onto his side so he could be more comfortable. he struggles to open his eyes, but manages to look at toji. the little boy pouts and points another finger at his dad, this time drowsily warning him, “papa no kiss mama, ‘kay?”
that comment catches you off guard. you’re embarrassed by the fact that megumi still remembers what he’s seen in the kitchen. you try to clear your throat and explain yourself, but toji’s one step ahead of you. he silently mimics megumi’s words and rolls his eyes—
“yeah yeah, whatever. i won’t,” toji promises his son. the toddler clearly inherited your husband’s protectiveness. you chuckle at the playfulness between the two, enjoying the jokey banter the father-son duo have each time.
megumi huffs in victory and nods. he can sleep in peace now, knowing his dad won’t try anything funny with you. he closes his weary eyes and is asleep within just a few seconds.
you stretch your arms and sigh in content. you can’t help but chuckle once you notice how megumi’s fallen asleep with a tiny smile on his lips. you give the child one last forehead kiss before leaving the room in silence.
toji follows right behind you. now that his son is sound asleep, he doesn’t have to keep his promise. technically— he wasn’t planning to anyway.
“c’mere,” your husband mumbles and grabs your hand. he pulls you into a tight hug, hands instantly roaming your body which he admires so much. he plants his lips onto yours not a second later.
you smile into the kiss, finding it funny how toji couldn’t keep his (fake) promise for even one second. he would die if he actually couldn’t kiss you, and that isn’t even an exaggeration.
toji pulls back after a moment and smirks at you—those bedroom eyes of his very telling.
“so, where were we?”

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk x you#toji x you#jjk fluff#toji fluff#jjk x y/n#toji x y/n#star divider by benkeibear
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BLESS HALLOWEEN - r.c (+18)



pairing: frat!rafe/ghostface!rafe x reader (uni au) warnings: no plot; smut
inspired by this audio (+18)
between midterms, a terrible class project partner, and your roommate constant need to fuck her boyfriend at any given hour of the day, you’re half asleep most days.
the only thing you should be doing is sleeping, anywhere, for hours, but instead, you let yourself get dragged to a halloween party.
sure, you’re running on three hours of sleep and five cups of coffee, but heaven forbid you to miss a party because your roommate just had to be there. never mind that she’s been wearing her "not-so-pg sexy witch" costume since last tuesday, casting spells for her crush to notice her (like he doesn’t see half her skin every night anyway).
you look hotter than you'd like to admit. black mini dress? check. sky-high boots? check. a little lace mask that hides just enough to keep the mystery going? obviously.
you're not trying too hard, but you’re giving just enough to turn heads, with a vibe that says, “i might ruin your life, but you'll thank me for it."
you’re rocking some version of a "slutty masquerade," not that anyone could guess what that means, but it gets you a free drink within five minutes. and the best part? nobody knows it’s you.
the only downside is that you’re in his territory.
it could be anywhere, but it’s happening at his frat.
your project partner, personal headache and resident menace, rafe cameron holds court here like he’s king of the idiots.
he’s hot, you’ll give him that, guy’s all charm until it’s time to work; then he’s as useless as that cheap foundation your roommate keeps borrowing.
and now you’re here, half hoping to avoid his face entirely—his smirk that screams "’m getting credit off your hard work" and that irking attitude that makes him think he’s doing you a favor.
as if seeing him once a week in class isn’t enough of a problem. you pull your mask down a bit lower, not that he’d recognize you through the lace, but just in case.
against all odds, you’re having a good time. the drinks are good—something sugary—and you find yourself laughing, loosening up.
mid-laugh, you walk straight into someone, practically face-plant into a solid chest. you stagger back, the guy's hand catching your elbow to hold you, and you look up, only to be met with a ghostface mask.
“ohh, sorry,” he says with an amused chuckle like he's getting a kick out of startling you. "sorry, sorry—i didn’t mean to scare you," he adds, not sounding remotely apologetic.
you raise a brow, your lips curving just slightly. “hmm, you sure? cause it kinda looks like you enjoy it."
he puts a hand up in mock innocence. “nah, i swear, completely unintentional,”
you blink up at him, squinting against the red lighting to catch a better look at his mask. it’s honestly a little creepy up close, that ghostface grin somehow twisting a bit more under the lights and crowd. but you’re in the mood to get laid tonight.
"nice costume,” you don’t bother to hide the way your eyes stuck to every corner of his body, “scary.”
he doesn’t catch it though, leaning down, head tilting, “what?” he asks, chuckling a bit as he stands closer. “yeah, sorry—the music’s way too loud.”
rolling your eyes with a little attitude, you repeat yourself, a bit louder. “i said, your costume’s scary.”
he nods, shaking his head like he’s relieved, and rubs the back of his neck, as if this mask isn’t hiding the flush you think you see creeping up his neck. “oh, thanks. yeah, uh, you look…” his voice trails off a little, and he clears his throat, swallowing. “you look pretty, uh, scary too.”
you raise a brow, "you think so?"
he nods again, “yeah, ’m terrified of hot women, so…”
the music cuts him off this time around, his words getting lost in the heavy bass, it’s harder to know what he’s saying when you can’t read his lips. you frown, stepping closer into his space. “hmm?”
the guy practically jolts, “nothing, nothing—it’s, uh…” he stammers, then gestures at your face, his fingers brushing near your mask. “it’s a cool mask.”
you smile, amused. “thanks, ghostface. should i be, y’know, scared of you?”
“i don’t know, that depends. should i be scared of you?”
"nop, you're cute. i like where this is going."
the guy’s mask tilts, there’s smidge of surprise in his voice. "really? so—so you’re into masks and, like, the whole psycho-killer thing?”
you shrug nonchalantly, letting your gaze drag over him slower. "only if they're hot and built like you."
there's a short pause, and you can practically feel the amused smile hidden under his mask. “oh, okay, yeah, yeah—so what is it? do you like being scared, or?”
there’s something about a guy like him—tall, broad-shouldered, who could probably break you in half without even trying. and honestly? you like that kind of shit. you’ve always wanted a guy who could cover you with his entire body, who’d tower over you in a way that was intimidating enough to make your heart pound.
the kind that, if you begged nicely, might just be able to cut off your oxygen in bed with one hand. and here he is, looking like he could throw you around a little if you wanted him to. which you might. his hand still hovering near your waist isn’t exactly subtle either—it’s like he knows, somehow. either way, you keep your expression smooth, not giving him anything, it’s more fun that way.
you let out a giggle that’s only partly mocking. "maybe i just like danger, ghostface. or maybe i like watching people squirm."
“holy shit, that’s fucked up.”
you take a slow sip of your drink, watching his shirt cling to his chest as he takes a deep breath, every inch of that body sculpted to the fucking gods like it was made for nights like this. shit, that’s a nice body.
you can’t help the sly smirk that pulls at your lips as you murmur, “what’s wrong with liking it rough?”
he snickers, almost breathlessly, and you know you’re getting to him. “there’s something a little wrong with you.”
yeah, there is. you almost blurt out the truth—that your panties are drenched and practically glued to your skin because of him, that he’s got you feeling hornier than you’ve felt in a long time. but you choose to let your fingers trail down his arm, slow and teasing.
“you think so?” you faux-pout, giving him a look that’s all dark lashes and bad intentions.
he swallows, stumbling over his words. “y-yeah, i mean, there’s some things you need to… work on.”
you tilt your head, smiling in that way you know drives guys crazy, leaning in just enough to make him catch his breath. “would you like to help me?”
he stares at you, goosebumps rising along his arm where your fingers still rest, visibly caught off guard, “what does that mean?”
with a wicked grin, you reach up, wrapping your manicured hands around his neck, his breath all but halting as you pull him down until his face is level with yours. his breath hitches, and you take your time, letting your lips brush the shell of his ear, enough to make him shiver.
“you find me upstairs,” you murmur, voice dripping with promise, “and ’m all yours. okay?”
instead of waiting for him to process it, you’re already sneaking off into the crowd, leaving him rooted. you don’t try looking back, already feeling his stare burning into you, dazed and desperate as he takes in what you just promised. you don’t second guess yourself once, you know he’s coming.
by the time he shakes himself out of his trance, you’re halfway up the stairs.
at the top, you stop, one quick peek over your shoulder to check if he’s still watching.
you push open a random door and slip into an empty room, locking eyes with yourself in the mirror. hair a little wild, eyes glinting with that mischievous glint you know all too well. you adjust your mask, the lace sitting just right over your cheekbones. you pull your dress higher, letting it ride up just a little higher, admiring the way the fabric clings to you, showing off every curve.
you turn the lights off, letting the room fall into shadows. he’ll have to work for it if he wants to find you. you can imagine the way he’ll hesitate, hand hovering over the doorknob, wondering what the hell he’s getting himself into.
why make it easy for him?
rafe watches you leave, standing there like a fucking idiot, heart hammering in his chest as he replays what just happened. the words “find me upstairs, and i’m all yours” looping in his mind like a mantra. the confidence in your voice, the way you looked at him like you already knew he’d be following—fuck, it’s enough to make him hard just thinking about it.
he swallows, trying to be calm as he looks around, but there’s no hiding the way his breathing’s quickened, how his body is buzzing at the thought of finding you, alone, in a dark room, just waiting for him.
you’re playing with him, he tells himself, but he doesn’t care. he’s going to go after you anyway.
pushing through the crowd, he’s half-dazed, talking to himself under his breath, almost wheezing out a series of what the fucks. his grip wraps around the banister as he ascends the stairs, his fingers still itching from where you’d brushed against him. he feels completely out of his element. girls flirt with him all the time, he’s with girls all the time, sure, but this—this is different.
he always been a sucker for a good challenge and you’d practically left him in the dust, tossing back that promise without even checking if he’d follow.
at the top, he pauses, looking down the hallway, every door holding the possibility that you might be behind it, waiting.
rafe feels that thrill coil in his stomach, his heart pounding in anticipation. he’s like a kid on halloween night, trick-or-treating at the house he’s always been too afraid to knock on. but you dared him, so there’s no way he’s backing out now.
he starts with the first door, pushing it open only to find it empty, checking the shadows, in case you’re hiding, but nothing. he goes into the next door, finding a couple already in there, and quickly shuts it again, eyes slamming shut, ignoring their annoyed stares as he backs out.
third time’s the charm, yeah? he thinks, reaching for the next door and pulling it open. the door creaks as it swings shut behind him, his footsteps are slow, hesitant, and the scuff of his shoes against the floor makes him cringe.
it takes him a second for his eyes to adjust to the dark, pupils dilating as he walks further inside.his breathing is loud and uneven, almost like he’d run all the way here. he stops in the middle of the room, his chest rising and falling hard, his breath painfully audible.
his heart is doing an annoying thing, pounding, and he swears he can hear it.
did he misread you? the space is eerily quiet, he can’t help but wonder if he’s been set up, if you’re somewhere downstairs, laughing at how eagerly he followed your trail up here like a fucking dumbass.
rafe scans the room’s edges, searching, and he notices a quick movement in the corner—something. he swallows he leans forward a little, squinting to make out any familiar shape.
“you wanna play hide and seek?” he calls out, hoping he’s not making a fool out of himself, “is that it?” he’s taking gulps of air, feeling dizzy from being in the dark for so long, “you like this?”
a quiet giggle echoes from one of the corners, inviting, and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. you’re playing this game too well, lurking just beyond his reach, and the longer he waits, the more desperate he feels.
he swallows, his mind spiraling as he steps walks around, slow and cautious, hands slightly trembling. he’s caught off guard by just how badly he wants you; the way you kept looking at him like he was the prey downstairs, has him all kinds of worked up.
his cock stirring against his jeans is proof enough.
“you want me to scare you or somethin’?” he provokes you, praying it’s enough to lure you out, “you think it’s smart? letting a stranger chase you into a room, with no one else around. you’re all alone with me.”
“who says you’re that dangerous?”
the second the words leave your mouth, rafe’s resolve slips.
it’s maddening, the way you’re hiding from him, how your voice seems to come to him from every dark corner of the room. he shouldn’t have drowned two shots before following you, but the liquid courage had been tempting.
you’re keeping him on a tight leash, making him wonder if he’s got a shot or if you’re just messing with his head. he wants to see you again, your expression—wants to read you, even if the last time he tried, he ended up with his mind in knots.
“you don’t even know my name,” he muses, taking a couple steps closer to the closet, “does that make it more fun for you? that you don’t know anything about me?”
his movements are cautious, almost reverent as if you’re something sacred and forbidden all at once. he stops, opening the doors, leaning inside as he half-whispers, “not here, huh?” no answer, just silence, but he swears he can feel you watching him, your gaze prickling his skin, almost burning, “where are you? c’mon come out, i’ll go easy on you.”
he sighs, sounding like more of a frustrated exhale. no sign of you anywhere. he shakes his head, letting out a soft laugh, more amused than annoyed.
“be a good girl and come out.”
rafe stalks around the room with the focus of someone hunting prey, his footsteps deliberate, his hands gliding along the walls and over furniture. he reaches the small bathroom door adjacent to the room, his fingers tightening around the handle. his lips pull into a smirk as he pauses—listening.
the room’s quiet, but then, he hears it: the faint, uneven rhythm of your breathing, a quickened inhale, almost as if his words had finally affected you. he stops dead, dropping his hand from the door and turning around with a dark gleam in his eyes.
“wait—wait,” his voice lowers with satisfaction, with the thrill of the chase. he lets out a breathy chuckle, his eyes roving the room as he zeroes in on where you’re hiding. “i can hear you, can hear you breathing.”
he takes a slow, taunting step, his head tilting, as though he’s relishing the way you’re fighting to stay silent, to keep control.
“what’s the matter? you sound a little…” he trails off in a murmur, enjoying the tables turning. “...shaken up. are you scared?”
your breath slips, just enough to betray you and his lips quirk up.
“i know exactly where you are.” with lazy confidence, he walks over to the far corner where the heavy velvet curtains seem to pool against the floor, drawn closed over the tall, narrow window.
his fingers brush the fabric, his eyes narrowing as if he can feel the warmth of you just on the other side. then, in one smooth motion, he grabs the curtain and yanks it open.
“caught you.”
moonlight spills in, illuminating you both. in a second, you’re pressed against the wall, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and his eyes rake over you, lingering on the way your costume accentuates every curve of your body.
he steps in close, his silhouette blocking the light as he cages you in, one hand pressing against the wall beside your head, the other landing on your waist. his gaze drops to your lips, taking time to roam the way you’re biting your lip.
you tilt your chin up, “maybe i just like trouble.”
rafe’s grip on your waist tightens in response, a hunger that he can’t hide, while he’s memorizing the way you’re looking up at him, ready to push him just as far as he can take it.
“you’re in trouble, alrigh’,” he shakes his head, while his hand inches down, slipping lower along your body until his thumb brushes against the curve of your hip, “don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”
your fingers slide up his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath the thin fabric of his black shirt, the way his heart hammers from your touch alone.
“maybe that’s what i want,” you whisper, tipping your head up so your lips brush against his mask.
he shudders, and you let your fingers trail slowly down, tracing over the line of his collarbone. rafe swallows hard, his body thrumming with tension. his eyes dropping to your mouth once again, wishing he’d been smart enough to take the mask off, so he could kiss you.
“you don’t know what you’re asking for,” he breathes, but the glint in his eyes says otherwise. he’s already melting under your touch, the desperation in the way he holds onto you confessing just how badly he needs it.
“you want me?” you ask, watching his pupils dilate as you lean in even closer, close enough that he can smell the fruity trace of your drink on your breath trough the mask, the lingering sweetness making him light-headed.
jesus fucking christ where have you been all his life?
“yeah,” he mutters, voice strained, eyes half-lidded as he stares down at you, “i want you.” his hand trails up your side, down the line of your dress, stopping just at the hem. he hesitates, holding himself back for your sake, the look in his eyes begging for permission, daring you to say something, to let him go further.
you smirk, letting your fingers slip lower, grazing over the top of his waistband, “’m already so wet for you.”
a rough, almost growling sound escapes his throat as his fingers taunt around you, his control slipping at the admission. “yeah?” he grunts, letting his hand glide under the hem of your dress, his fingers inching higher, grazing along the sensitive skin of your thigh, “lets find out.”
the first brush of his fingers against your thong sends a shiver from your head to your toes, his smirk growing. he’s bold now, unapologetic as he moves them up, grazing the thin barrier of fabric between his hand and you.
your panties are ruined, drenched, and stuck to you most uncomfortably, he can tell from the way you keep pushing your hips forward, begging him to do something.
he doesn’t think twice before using two fingers to pull the sticky fabric to the side.
“fuck,” he mutters to himself, “all this for me?”
you have to bite your lip to stop a moan from slipping out when he finally touches you properly. two of his long, thick fingers press against your entrance, sliding into you with no resistance. the feeling of your cunt clamping around him makes his cock twitch.
he works you open, even the slightest touches have you arching your back from the wall. the need in his eyes turns ravenous with every desperate little gasp you let out. he moves slowly, deliberately, feeling the warmth of you clenching around his him, as he curls his fingers just right,
“you’re so wet, ah, yeah—you’re gonna scream for me?”
his thumb finds your clit with ease, and he presses down, drawing gentle circles that make your knees buckle. he grins, drinking in every sound you’re trying to bite back. his thumb stays steady over your clit, circling with the perfect rhythm, applying just enough pressure to keep you breathless.
“c’me here,” his other hand moves with swift, easy dominance, capturing your wrists and pinning them above your head, holding you firmly against the wall,” you like this shit?”
“you’re gonna fuck me with the mask on?” you grind yourself harder against him, practically delusional from the way he’s making you feel, “kinky.”
he's mesmerized by the way your breasts jolt underneath your dress with each shaky breath you take, your skin feels feverish, heat radiating off it like a furnace.
“just like you wanted,” he promises, his voice filled with satisfaction as his thumb presses down harder, coaxing a soft whimper from your lips. “go on, let me hear it—ride my hand.”
he tightens his hold on your wrists, keeping you perfectly in place, not prying his eyes away from how your brows frow with every grind.
“fuckkkkk, do that again,” you whine when he hits a particular spot, your walls tightening around him in a way that makes him want to stop the foreplay and fuck you right away.
rafe leans forward to coo praise into your ear, “like this?” your skin is sticky with sweat—some saliva too—his. he’s never been this fucking hard in his life. he slows down on purpose, to torture you, doing anything in his power to make you beg, “ooh look at you— a fuckin mess.” he taunts.
“don’t be an asshole,” you groan, fingers itching to be set free, and grab his shoulders so you can slam down on him harder, “you gotta make me cum if you wanna fuck me.”
he runs deep circles into your clit making you press your legs together, knowing that he's getting exactly what he wants makes him chuckle into your skin. by this point as he mindlessly humps against your writhing body, he’s peeking down, taking a moment to admire the mess of slickness between your thighs.
“you want more?” you’re so caught up in the feeling that you don’t notice his hand leaving yours, wrapping it around your neck, pulling you closer to him, “answer me”
“another finger,” you spit out when he tightens his grip on your neck, the added touch having you on the brink.
rafe doesn’t even look at you, too entranced by your mess to make eye contact. he never got so lost during sex, but your pussy’s making him intoxicated to the point where his senses are dull, and the part of him that’s fully aware is his dick.
he’s not even inside you yet, and still, he can cum just from seeing you ride his fingers. “another?”
he groans at the way one of your hands move to flex over his, watching in amusement as you try to get him to add one more finger. he mutters a low, gruff “good girl” as he slides a third finger in, pressing just deep enough to make your legs tremble, since you asked so nicely.
“think you can handle more?” rafe prods, “you’re so tight, don’t think you can take me.”
the way his fingers work, methodical and relentless, leaves you barely able to breathe, let alone answer.
“i could take t-two of you,” you tease, letting a breath out, and turning your head to face him. god you wondered if he looked good under that mask, but if he was this good in bed, who fucking cared.
“the only thing you’re taking is this fucking costume off,” he grumbles against your shiny lips, fanning like a wild animal catching the scent of its prey. he’s already tugging at the material, pulling the straps to the side before you can, nudging it aside, “look at you. gotta get my hands on you.”
rafe moves his attention to your breast and squeezes firmly, the tips of his fingers clasping down on your nipple, pressing and pulling as he chases after those sweet sounds that leave your lips.
“look at these tits, fuck” he rasps, eyes trailing over your chest and savoring every inch, his breath almost a snarl, “this’ what you wanted?”
you pressed your lips to his neck, ignoring the deep rumble in his chest as you sucked marks into his flesh, nipping him less than gently. grunting at a particularly rough bite you landed just under his adam’s apple, “i wanted your cock not your finger—"
his pitches your nipple harder making you squirm, “watch your fuckin’ mouth.”
the way you’re creaming his hand should be illegal, but this man is clearly sent from above. someone finally listened to you and gave you exactly what you needed to survive your dry spell.
you reach down to cup him up through his jeans, “or what?”
he moans, head dropping to your shoulder, “fuck,” he mutters, his tone conveying that he’s just as distracted, watching how your puffy folds glisten with your arousal.
“hmmm, can’t hear you ghostface.”
rafe’s too entranced to put you in your place, you’ve got him eating out the palm of your hand. the sounds of your pussy sucking in his fingers are obscene, the simple act of your hand grazing cock has his knees buckling.
he can feel his heart beating miles a minute and he swears he could die right there, his hand coming down to grip the swell of your ass, kneading it firmly. you sigh contently with every slow drag of his hand, your head falling on his shoulder, nipping at his neck no doubt marking him up again.
“open your mouth.” you lift your head immediately, no smartass bullshit coming out of your lips, he chuckles breathlessly at your impatience, fingers moving from your ass to your parted hole, “suck my fingers, go on.”
it’s hard to make any coherent thought when his fingers are still inside you, dragging against your spongy walls deliciously, but your tongue automatically slips around his digits, doing your best to suck them down your throat. you’d never felt so willing to let a man bend you however he wants to, hushed curses escaping your occupied mouth, raking your nails down his arm.
“good girl, yeahhhh, that’s it,” he grunts when you prod his skin harder, “you like diggin’ your nails into me, like it rough, huh? ‘course you do,” he stammers out when you clamp harder around him, your slick making everything slippery, “course you fucking do.”
with his fingers buried deep inside you and your lips wrapped around his other hand, rafe’s fully intoxicated, drunker than he can ever get. the sounds you make, he never wanted to taste something so bad, if it wasn’t for his stupid mask—
“take this thing off—" he grinds his hips into you, the rough fabric of his jeans pressing deliciously against your bare skin, teasing you, while his hand leaves your mouth to do nothing else but rip your panties apart.
you let out a huff, glancing down at what’s left of your underwear as he tosses it aside like nothing, already sliding his back up your thigh, “you’re paying for those.”
“whatever you want.”
you’re already occupied with his stupid belt, fingers quickly working to take the damn thing off, pawing at him to help. it’s only then he leaves your pussy unattended, settling his hold on your hips while you fumble with his jeans, unbuttoning them and snapping them open, his bulge straining against the fabric of his boxers.
he grabs the underside of your thigh, picking your leg up and wrapping it around his waist, backing you two further into the wall, eyes gazing into yours, even though you can’t see him. why the fuck do your eyes look so familiar?
the tip of his dick kisses the skin of your pussy, the firm head bumping against your clit as he rubs himself against you, “happy?”
looking down, you watch his cock slide back and forth between your thighs, the friction making heat slowly rise in your core, warmth swarming in your chest. he’s so fucking big. you watch him, eyes half-lidded, your legs aching from the position, almost drooling from the sight alone.
you don’t know how much longer you can let him tease you.
“so happy,” you nod, not tearing your attention from him.
“yeah?” he cocks his head to the side, brows furrowed, concentrating not to cum on the spot with the way you’re eating his cock alive just with your pretty little eyes, “you’re gonna let a stranger fuck you?”
rafe reaches down, teasingly rubbing the tip of his dick over your folds, tracing it over your clit a few times. you look up, lips curling into the most earth-shattering smirk.“i can always find someone el—"
you both groan when he slides into you with no warning, your warm walls enveloping him perfectly, sucking him in like a vice, a perfect tight fit. he pumps you so full, not waiting for any adjustment, your walls fluttering around his girth, thick tip slightly curved up from your position.
“fuck, fuck, fuckkk,” he drawls out, rolling his hips in tight circles, slowly fucking into you, dragging himself along your walls to learn what you like, “this pussy, oh—so good.”
your head falls back against the wall, sighing in pleasure. you want him to let go and beat your walls loose, especially when he looks so good doing it. you melt into him, body sagging, downright losing it with how easily he holds you up and still pounds relentlessly into you, your breathing picking up with his change of pace.
he’s so strong.
“this good enough for ya?” he murmurs against your ear, picking on the way your body shudders, a scream for anyone outside that door to hear, “hmm? you like my voice, right here?”
“you’re gonna make me cum,” you feel yourself grip him harder, his thick cock stretching you open, dragging out moan after moan from your lips, “oh my god.”
it’s the sweetest torture, the way his pelvis smacks against your tummy with every thrust, barely even pulling out to roll back into you.
“such a fuckin’ slut, aren’t you?” he growls, “letting a stranger fuck you open—holy shit, holy shit,” he hisses, almost as if he’s in pain, when you teasingly whine your hips back into him, fluttering at the low sound he breaths right by your ear. “shit, you’re squeezing—fuck.”
“you’re so b-big,” you wheeze at a rough thrust, hand coming down to press against his lower stomach.
“yeah? good enough for you, huh?” his hips increase in rhythm, rocking into you, his thrusts precise, beating against your g-spot with vigor, “takin’ it so good baby.”
by now you’re seeing stars in your vision from the white-hot pleasure shooting up your spine, smart mouth forgotten, “harder.”
“harder?” he’s fucking into you at such a pace you feel like he’s gonna split you in half, “don’t think you can take it.”
“please.”
it sounds too pretty coming out of your mouth. having a girl like you beg feeds his ego like nothing else.
he buries himself so deep, his pelvis is pressed hard against the hilt of your mound, fingers coming down to pinch and roll your neglected clit between his fingers.
“fucking take it then.” rafe snaps his hips with every word, glaring into your teary eyes.
you gasp, nodding your head frantically, too fucked out to even use your words properly when he bottoms out properly, leaving you entirely only to slam inside harder than before. you squeal, not expecting him to use his entire body strength to almost fold in half while you’re still standing.
“no one can h-hear you down here, go ahead,” your mouth runs dry as you feel his body helplessly pressing into yours, “lemme hear those pretty noises, c’mon, scream f’me.”
you’ve never moaned so loud in your life, hands coming up to tweak your nipples, him filling you to the brim, “w-where the fuck have you b-been?”
he chuckles, though it comes out strained, “right here,” he makes a point by ramming into your g-spot perfectly, “hold your leg up f’me.”
for once in your life, you do as you’re told while focusing on his clothed stomach, feeling it constrict with every deep breath he takes.
“you look so pretty like this,” you hear him praise you, one of his hands sliding down the span of your back, coming down to wrap around your hair and forcing your head up, “could fuck you for hours.”
the tip of his dick is kissing right against your cérvix, “not stopping you.”
“yeah? that’s how good is it?” he laughs, “can’t believe stranger cock does it for you.”
you open your mouth to speak, probably to give him shit about how he wouldn’t stop teasing you, but your words run dry as you feel the familiar sensation of his fingers playing with your overstimulated clit. motherfucker.
your body tenses as he builds up the pressure, and a strangled symphony of your wails leaves your sore throat. it’s too much and not enough at the same time, the pressure of his cock as well as his fingers, he’s quite literally fucking you dumb.
“nothin’ to say now, huh?”
the better it feels, the farther gone you’re in your mind, “s-shut the fuck up.”
if you were with someone else, it would bother you that your tits are quite literally out while he’s still dressed, besides the jeans pooling by his ankles, but that stupid black wife beater looks mouthwatering on him.
somehow the outfit and the mask add to the allure, not knowing who’s behind it, but still letting him treat you like a rag doll. you’re bouncing down onto him, almost sniffling as your pussy’s still twitching and soaking, so close to your well-deserved orgasm.
“cum inside,” your head’s starting to sting from how bad you need to cum,“please.”
rafe swears he almost falls on his ass, “what?”
“inside,” you grit out, eyes closed in bliss, “want to feel you cum inside.”
he lets out a groan at the way you say it, “are you serious? oh fuck, what a little cock-slut.” he can’t help but let out a chuckle at your fucked-out state, lost in the chase of your own pleasure to care about how pitiful you look right now, “you’re gonna cum around me? go on,” he coos, kneading at the flesh of your thighs.
you nod, slipping out a high-pitched ‘mhm’, knowing this shit is about to hit you like a train. you arch yourself into him, whimpering lewdly and cutting small moon crescents into his shoulders with your long nails.
rafe feels like he’s lost all ability to fuck anyone else but you, growling at the filthy thoughts swimming through his mind, the urge to fill you up with his cum getting stronger as he enjoys watching you.
a strained whimper escapes you as you lean forward to bury your head in his shoulder, groaning against the skin, “don’t stop.”
“n-never stopping, c’mon,” you swear you see stars while he’s slipping out curses and praises that you’re not even sure make sense. “holy shit, yeahh, fuck.”
he applies a little more pressure to your clit and that’s all it takes for you to be gone, your chest touching his, blinding flashes of paradise filling your vision as you leave reality, having it ripped away from you.
your mouth is parted in the most beautiful oh shape he’s ever witnessed. tears are streaking down your eyes and he can’t help but be turned on by them.
“oh! fuck, fucking—” you squeeze your eyes shut, having no idea how you pulled the words out between continuous sobs that escape from you.
rafe feels like a fucking creep, he can’t take his eyes off you for the life of him, hips snapping animalistically into your pussy while he grunts, groans, and cries as he talks you through it, “that’sss itt, so good, so fuckin’ perfect.”
he tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him, thumb brushing over your bottom lip.
he’s chasing his orgasm while he watches yours; he all but whines when he releases inside of you, not slowing down in the slightest as he makes sure you take every drop. his hand comes down on your stomach forcing you back down with his python grip, feeling his bulge right there makes his eyes roll as his hand tightens on your waist. you’re still clenching and spasming as you milk him dry, “fuckin’ take it.”
his hips don’t let up, grinding into your core despite him already finishing inside of you. for another ten minutes.
five minutes later, you’re both a little hazy from the endorphin rush, still processing. once he pulls away, rafe feels a lazy grin stretching across his face, feeling more satisfied than ever. unlike the past hour, the room isn’t filled with your moans, but complete silence as you both try to breathe like normal people again, collecting yourselves, adjusting clothes, and then there’s an unspoken agreement that maybe, it’s time to see who’s behind the masks.
you fumble with the edges of the fabric, hesitating for a moment before finally pulling them off, unveiling each other’s faces.
you freeze, staring at him in disbelief.
“you gotta be fucking kiddin’ me,” you nearly burn a hole through his head, eyes narrowing with pure annoyance as you process this disaster, voice dripping with irritation, “what the fuck? rafe?”
he’s completely still, staring at you with his mouth wide open, eyes wide like he’s just seen a ghost—everything you’re hurling at him is going in and out his ears. the realization that he just spent the last hour fucking you is making him dumber. the girl he’d been thinking about, dreaming about, wanting more than he’d ever admit, even to himself.
the anger in your eyes, the annoyed way you’re crossing your arms and glaring at him—it’s so perfectly you. he’s watched you in class a hundred times, always stealing glances when you weren’t looking or cursing his ass off, catching little glimpses of your attitude that only made him want you more.
but he’d never thought he’d get a moment like this.
bless halloween.
“are you even listening to me?” you snap, catching his starstruck expression, waving a hand in front of his face. “hello? earth to cameron? stop looking at me like a puppy, this was a mistake.”
more than a mistake. you can’t believe you just fucked the reason why you didn’t want to come to the party in the very first place.
and the worst part is that you’d do it again.
“i…i just…wow,” he breathes, “it’s really you.” he lets out an incredulous laugh, rubbing a hand over his jaw “can’t believe it.”
you groan, rolling your eyes and shaking your head in exasperation. “are you serious right now?
“can i eat you out?”
you blink, realizing you’ve been staring, “what?”
he takes a step closer, filling the small space between you. you swear the sound of his next words drag a whimper from your throat, “can i eat you out?”
you nearly choke to death as his hand ghost near your waist, the barest brush of contact, sending sparks dancing across your skin, “right now?”
rafe leans down to your size, eager to get on his knees and taste you.
“why not?”
well, fucking damnit.
dont go fucking strangers with ghostface masks at random parties
#itneverendshere works✨#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron au#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron smut#rafe smut#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron x smut#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron university au#frat!rafe#ghostface#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron and you#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe fic#rafe cameron obx#rafe obx#smut#it's honestly just smut#a little plot#LITTLE LITTLE PLOT#sex with strangers#outer banks smut
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Pls reader who’s always wanted a baby but is too scared to ask hotch to have one with her — he’s his usual understanding self and also whipped and nearly cries cos he gets all emotional?
—you and Aaron misunderstand one another. fem, 2k
You debate yourself for weeks, on and off, alone or with company, and aided by the internet.
Is it okay to want a baby when you have a step kid? Does really wanting a baby mean I don’t like the first one? Your search engine spits out forums and web articles alike that say the same things —of course it’s okay. Wanting another kid doesn’t mean you don’t love your first; craving to be a mom to a baby doesn’t mean you don’t love Jack, even though he had his own mom when he was a youngster.
You read a little about it. Books recommended by the articles, and stories from women who became step-moms to children with mothers who had heartbreakingly passed away. It’s a guilty thing to be the mom or stepmom to a child who’s natural mom has died. You might always feel cruel for stealing her moments, for loving her ex husband, and raising her baby. But Jack isn't just someone’s baby, he’s Jack, and you don’t think you could’ve helped yourself. You would’ve loved him no matter what.
Once you’ve worked past two different types of guilt, you’re crushed by your reality. Jack is nearly nine years old. Your husband isn’t exactly spry. Like, there’s nothing wrong with him (besides a stomach full of scar tissue and partial deafness in one ear), but he’s not a spring chicken, either, and he seems content with your life. In what world would he want to change diapers again?
The same world where he gets to kiss a little cheek, you think hopefully. Where you get to make it together. Maybe… he loves you enough to try, even if it’s not something he’s pictured.
You settle, and you decide to be brave. You’ll ask Aaron to have a baby with you, and you won’t feel guilty.
You realise you can’t face the answer, is all. If he says no it’s gonna break your heart. If you never ask you’ll never get one, unless it’s an accident, and that’s not a good idea, either, you’d never purposefully want a baby to find out later on that the dad doesn’t want them, even if you’d be enough. You know you’d be a good mom, and that you could deal with things alone. There’s an avenue you could take where you have your baby no matter what, it’s your life.
If only you didn’t love Aaron as much as you do. The idea of being without him is a horror you don’t want to contend with.
Aaron can sense your constant mental back-and-forth, though he hasn’t guessed what it’s about yet. If you give him time he might get there on his own. He watches you thinking and he wraps a hand around your leg. Weird thing to do, but he’s not normal. He’s a gentleman mostly. Rare moments like this betray his character, how he loves you, pulling your leg toward him and hugging it to his chest despite a strange angle.
“Honey,” he begins softly.
“Not tonight, I have a headache.”
“That’s not funny,” he says, smiling, “you know you don’t have to say anything else besides no.”
“Can’t imagine being with someone who needs a reason,” you say, softly as he had as you lay back against a minky cushion, “‘m lucky my love’s such a gentleman.”
“You can’t deflect all night.”
“I was only kidding. Take my pants off and we’ll–” You gasp a laugh as he squeezes your thigh. “Shit, don’t do that!”
“You don’t have to be so crass about everything,” he says, joking. And people would tell you he has no sense of humour. “I’m trying to ask if you’re okay. I know you’re dodging the question, but I was gonna persuade you.”
“Oh, yeah?” you ask, letting your knees tip apart, punished by another awful squeeze.
“Honey.” He kisses your knee. Your heart is pressed on from all sides. “I just want to know what’s upsetting you lately. I can tell it’s important, but I can’t work out what it is.”
“It’s not. Not important, I mean.”
“I’ve been putting my mind to it. There aren’t many things that could take up this much of your attention. I worried you might’ve been chafing with Jack, but you’re as sweet on him as usual. I worried you might be having second thoughts about us, but you’re not. You’re too careful with your wedding ring to have me think you don’t love me, and–” He rubs at your leg. “You’re as tactile as ever. You aren’t drawing away from us. I don’t want to think about it, but I’m worried you’re sick or something similar and you aren’t telling me.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you say, startling you both, “please don’t worry, I’m not sick.“
“You’re alright?” he asks.
“I’m about as healthy as I usually am.”
“But?”
You can’t not tell him. You’re married. He loves you. While you’ve driven yourself crazy wondering how much, he’s been worrying you’re poorly. It’s unfair, and you can’t do it much longer.
“I have been thinking about something for a while,” you confess.
“And a lot.”
“Yeah. I think about it every day.”
Aaron turns your face to his. You’d have to change positions to kiss, your leg firmly locked in his grasp. He doesn’t lean in, holding your eye with a seriousness rarely given at home. He looks as though he’s had a long day. “I can’t think of anything you could say to me that I wouldn’t still love you by the end,” he says quietly.
“It’s not about love.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because there are things we won’t agree on.”
“I can’t agree if you don’t tell me what you’re thinking,” he says.
“I know. I’m not not telling you because you aren’t allowed to disagree with me, I’m just scared.”
“Scared?” he asks, frowning now, that square wrinkle at his brow deeply carved.
You have to build yourself up for a long time before you can say what you want to say out loud. He waits in the quiet, his expression impossible to read.
“You know how much I love Jack.”
Aaron’s hands are still on your leg. “Of course.”
“And how much I love you.”
His lips part, but he doesn’t speak. There’s a dawning understanding on his face as he stops touching you, his hands falling to his lap resoundingly. “What’s going on?” he asks.
You aren’t encouraged by his response.
He doesn’t want a baby. Saying it is admitting to a difference between you both, one that might make him angry. You’ve never had him angry with you.
Usually, if he noticed your flicker of fear, he’d have rushed to correct it, but Aaron does nothing now. He simply waits.
“I wanted to ask you to have a baby with me,” you say quietly, watching him for an emotion and finding him with a blankness he’s practised over years. You’ve no hope of discerning him. “But I don’t think you’ll say yes. I’m sorry. I just want it.”
He swallows roughly. “Oh.”
“I know it’s not something we’ve talked about much.”
His hands return. His fingers slip up your calf until it’s trapped in the hinge of your knee, pulling your thigh to his chest. Hip to hip as you are, you’d think it would be uncomfortable, but he’s gentle. He leans down to rest his cheek against your knee. For a moment, you’re his to look at, squirming with nerves and depressed to have disappointed him. You fight the urge to run.
“For a second I thought you were about to tell me you’d cheated on me,” he says under his breath.
You startle. “What?”
“You looked so sorry, my mind went straight to the worst. You looked like you knew you were about to hurt me.”
His sincerity is aching.
“I could never do that.”
“I know, I’m sorry for entertaining it…” He picks up his head. “I never thought you’d be scared to talk to me about anything. It was the only thing I could think of that you might’ve done wrong.”
“I thought you were angry about the baby.”
“Is there… a baby?” he asks tentatively.
“No.” You rub the painful throb between your eyes. “No, there isn’t a baby. I just meant you’d be angry at me for asking. Disrupting our life.”
“You think you’re disrupting us by expressing what you want?”
“It’s a big thing.”
“Can I put you out of your misery?” He turns to take your face into his hand. “I would never be angry with you for wanting something, especially a baby. And I can tell how much this has worried you, so while I can’t promise the answer is uncomplicated, I’m happy to say yes to you. If you want a baby and you want that with me, of course I’ll say yes.”
“Jack–”
“Honey, you’re thinking too much about Jack. Children have siblings. It doesn’t mean you don’t love them. Is that why you brought him up first?”
You look away, ashamed to be read. “Sometimes I wish you didn’t know everything.”
“Honey, I don’t.”
Your smile is unbidden and somehow deeply felt at the same time, chancing a happy look at him. He’s smiling too. “You’re serious? You’d have a baby with me?”
He turns into you even more, raising his remaining hand to your opposite cheek, holding you sweetly, putting you nose to nose. “I wish you’d asked me before you worried yourself sick. I would love to have a baby with you, sweetheart. I didn’t realise it was something you wanted already.”
“I want it with you,” you say, matching his low tone.
“And I want it with you. How couldn’t I?”
You fight the sudden heat of tears, your heart pounding in your ears. ”I figured Jack is growing up, you’re so busy, and things have only now calmed down–”
“Who cares?” he asks, laughing.
“I thought you might.”
“I’m sure I will, but not right now. You want a baby?” He gives your head the gentlest squeeze between his hands. “Sweetheart. You want to have a baby?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Then let’s have a baby.” Aaron’s shaking his head, pulling you in, his lips glancing off of your cheek as he hugs you tighter than he ever has. You lose all the breath in your lungs.
“Don’t hurt me,” you tease, relaxing for the first time in weeks in his arms, “or I won’t be able to have one.”
“I could never hurt you like that,” he says easily. “Oh, sweetheart.” He says your name. He says it again.
All that fuss for nothing. You confess on a high, “I want one so bad I don’t know what to do with myself half the time, I– I went to the mall a few days ago to look at the baby stuff, just to look, and I wanted to ask you when I got home but I lost my nerve.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, I even picked up this little babygrow with flowers on the feet but–” You fluster at the memory. “Sorry, that’s so weird.”
“It’s not weird.” He encourages you away with another rough swallow and scares you half to death —if he cries, you’re gonna sob. His eyes are definitely glassy. “We should go, you can show me.”
“Really?”
“We have to start preparing at some point, right?”
You climb onto your knees and vault on top of him, arms around his neck, no chance he can get away. He takes it like a champ, returning your ecstatic laughter with a more content chuckle, a big hand spreading out protectively over your shoulder.
A baby, you think, unaware that Aaron’s thinking the exact same thing, with the same reverent warmth growing in his chest. A baby.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#criminal minds
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Before you | jjk

⤷ part of the dads universe
⏤ pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x female reader
⏤ genre: friends to lovers, angst, fluff, and smut
⏤ rating: 18+
⏤ warnings: dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, long-haired!jungkook, pregnancy, mention of abortion, sexual tension, alcohol consumption, a lot of making out, finger sucking, thigh riding, masturbation, aftercare, mention of oral sex, swearing, some teasing, pet names, pregnancy kink, praising, a bit of jealousy, hickeys, handjob, semi-public sex, penetrative sex, protected sex, rough sex, creampie, overstimulation, and multiple orgasms
⏤ words: 16,354
⏤ summary: jungkook has taken a huge place in your life after he tattooed you, and you can’t even picture how life was before him. he has always been there for you since day one. but how will things change after you find out you’re pregnant?
⏤ author’s note: so guys, yesterday i tried to post this but it was a complete mess 😫 hopefully today it works without any issues! in any case, i’m happy to post this fic once more, especially since a lot of you asked for it 💜 it was a bit odd to read something i wrote years ago but it was at the same time intriguing because i’ve changed since i wrote it. hope you’ll like it 💜
MASTERLIST

OCTOBER 5, 2018
In a few minutes, Jungkook is coming.
You’re in your bathroom with a pregnancy test in your hands. Yong-ji, your best friend has convinced you in some way to do it, she thinks that you don’t have the flu. For the past week, you have had all the symptoms of the flu and you stayed home to rest a bit. But she doesn’t think that’s what you have.
Before you can even see the result, there’s a knock on your door. Jungkook.
He has no idea that you’re taking that pregnancy test, Yong-ji herself is not even aware. After she insisted several times, you told her that you wouldn’t do it. Unlike her, you’re convinced that you’re not pregnant.
You leave the bathroom, put the test in the corner of the sink, and run to the door to open it for your friend. Jungkook has been around for a bit more than a year, and he has been one of your closest friends lately. Always there when you need him the most. And you’re just grateful to have met him.
“You look so pale,” he comments when he sees you.
“Hello to you too, JK,” you say, smiling back at him. “Come on in.”
His eyes look at you with concern before entering your small apartment. It’s not huge, unfortunately, you’re not rich yet but it’s so comfy. You liked this apartment the second you first saw it because it was what you needed.
“I brought some things to eat,” he says while walking to the kitchen with a little bag in his hands. “I guess you didn’t eat anything today.”
That man understands you as nobody does. Although your friendship is very recent, he probably knows you better than Yong-ji who has been your friend for six years. You wonder how that's even possible.
You’re just behind him, following him into the kitchen, and he puts his handbag on the small table. Today, Jungkook is wearing a sweater with black skinny jeans, and you know for sure that under his sweater, he’s wearing an oversized t-shirt that he wore all day at work.
“How was your day?” you ask, trying to change the topic of your conversation.
Your friend turns back to catch a glance at you before he raises an eyebrow. He’s perfectly aware that you didn’t eat anything during the day and that you’re changing the topic of conversation because you don’t want him to get worrier. Since you’re sick, he’s not going to say anything.
“The same as always,” he says while rolling his eyes. “Clients came, I made a bunch of tattoos and I barely had the time to work on some projects.”
This last year, he has gained tons of new clients and he’s busy tattooing them most of the day. Before, he used to find some time to work on projects, but now, he doesn’t have that time.
“You should find a partner to help you out with the clients,” you propose.
Jungkook has already considered it but he doesn’t want to hire someone just to have more free time. He wants someone that can truly help him with the shop and the rest, and he’s convinced that it’s not going to be easy.
“I’m too picky and you know it,” he grabs a fry from the bag and eats it.
“Then, don’t be,” you answer, crossing your arms over your chest.
He rolls his eyes as he takes off the food from the bag and places it on your table. “I don’t want some shitty person to tattoo my clients. So, I'm going to be picky and you're going to support me.”
You open a drawer, taking two sets of chopsticks with two spoons before putting them on the table. You both sit in front of the other.
Your eyes get lost in his for a split minute. At first, he might seem the cold type of person. His body is covered with tattoos, his hair is pushed into a man-bun, his fingers are covered with rings and he has some earrings. But it’s just appearances. This man is the sweetest and most caring person you’ve ever met.
A lot of your friends asked you if something is going on between you and Jungkook but you have never seen the man in front of you as more than a friend. Even the thought of it never crossed your mind.
“But it was a good day,” he says, looking down at his food before he eats some rice. “All the clients were super nice and there was even a cute girl.”
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by the cute girl he met today. Jungkook's love life is quite calm. He's not the type to fuck every girl he sees, he prefers to date, fall in love, and take the time to love. He's just the romantic type of guy.
“Don't look at me like that, yn,” he says, pointing a chopstick at you. “You’re too curious.”
He sighs in defeat knowing that no matter what he’s going to tell you everything, and that’s what he likes about your friendship. You understand and know each other so well even though you’ve been friends for only a year, but it feels like you’ve known the other for like an eternity.
“I just want to know what happened,” you say with a big smile on your face.
“We just talked and she asked me to call her one day,” he notices that you haven’t touched your food yet. “You should eat.”
You take a bit of rice and eat it. Lately, it’s the only thing that you’ve been able to eat without throwing up.
“And?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to call her?”
Jungkook is hesitating. Yes, she’s cute and physically, she’s his type. But not too long ago, he was seeing a girl that just left him suddenly because she got back with her ex. He liked her quite a lot and he doesn’t feel ready to go back through all the date nights and the flirting things.
“Don’t know yet,” he says nonchalantly.
“You should call her, Kookie. You need to see somebody else other than me,” you tell him.
“That’s not true, I see Namjoon and Yoongi,” you roll your eyes as he mentions his roommates.
But Jungkook doesn’t spend too much time at his place with his roommates, he’s mostly with you because he loves to be around you, he loves how you make him feel. Oddly, you make him feel at home. He has never felt that with anybody else and he cherishes your friendship so much.
His eyes linger on your left arm, smiling as he sees the reason that brought you two together.
More than a year ago, you decided to get a tattoo and a friend advised you to go to Jungkook. You did some research about him and his work, reading a lot of opinions about him. After a while, you decided that he was the one, he was going to be the one who would do your first tattoo.
For Jungkook, you were just another client, nothing more. But you were kind of scared and nervous, and during the whole time, he was comforting you. It was the first time he was doing it. Usually, his clients hide their fears and put a brave smile on their faces.
When you saw the lion on your arm, you were so proud and so thankful that he did it. It was just perfect, even better than you had pictured it.
As he was doing it, he asked you why you chose to tattoo a lion. ‘The lion is known to be the strongest animal, and to me, this tattoo will represent my strength. It will remind me that no matter what life throws at me, I have to be strong.’
And he liked it. He liked how you’d look beyond the piece of art on your arm. He liked how he was not just tattooing a simple lion on an arm, he was tattooing your strength. After that, you naturally stayed in touch and you’re just happy to have met him.
“And did you get any news from Minho?”
Minho is a guy that you met some weeks ago and with whom you had a lot of fun. It was ephemeral but you had the time of your life with him. You don’t regret anything, you’re just sad that now, it’s over.
You knew it was never going to last because you are both from two completely different worlds. You’re just a simple girl that barely manages to have some money at the end of the month while he’s one of the wealthiest men in the country.
He's Park Minho, the son of the one and only Park Joonki. He has tons of holdings around the world and he controls basically everything in Korea. He’s truly very powerful, and the chances that you’d stay in a serious relationship with Minho were very low.
“Nope, and I don’t think I’ll ever hear from him again.”
“I thought he liked you a lot,” he says while eating.
You furrow your eyebrows, not understanding. Jungkook was the first one to say to be careful with this kind of guy, and now, he’s kind of being nice to him.
“He looked at you affectionately, but I just wanted you to be careful.”
“In the end, we all knew this was just us having fun and nothing more,” you say.
Even if you’re sad that it ended, you’re kind of grateful that it ended now. Otherwise, you know you would have started hoping for things, and the end of whatever you had with Minho would have been harder for you.
“You truly deserve someone who loves you like all stars and the moon love nights.”
A big and bright smile appears on your pale face, and Jungkook swears he has never seen anything prettier. Sometimes, he realizes that he looks at you like a man completely in love. Those moments are not very frequent but when they happen, they hit him hard and it’s very intense.
You wonder if he knows the way his words make your heart stutter in your chest. But then you start to wonder why you’re even feeling such things for him, Jungkook is just your closest friend. But it's the first time that something touches you that much, not even your exes managed to make you feel that way.
“Thanks, Kook,” you say, “and you deserve someone that loves you like Juliet loves Romeo.”
Juliet and Romeo have a tragic love story, but they deeply loved each other. To you, Jungkook deserves to be loved with the same intensity. He deserves someone that would give his heart and soul to him because he’s the best human you’ve ever met.
“That’s tragic,” he replies.
You feel the urge to stand up and sit on his lap to caress his dark hair, but it would feel weird since he’s just your best friend.
“Yes, but she truly and deeply loved him. That’s the love that you deserve.”
His heart squeezes, and he looks away, feeling uncomfortable to glance straight into your eyes. He never thought that you’ll reply to his comment but he’s just happy you did.
“Just reach out to that girl, okay?”
Maybe she’s the one, maybe she’s the girl that Jungkook is meant to be with but he’ll never know it if he doesn’t call her. He raises his head up before nodding.
“Now, eat. You’re scaring me with that pale face.”
As he mentions your pale face, you remember the damn pregnancy test. But now isn’t probably the best moment to go and check out the result. You don’t want to worry Jungkook for silly things right now because you’re still convinced that you’re not pregnant.
“I just have to go to the bathroom,” you say as you stand up and walk in the direction of the bathroom.
As you enter the small room, you close the door behind you. Your heart is beating hard and fast. Although you think you’re not pregnant, you don’t know how you’ll react if it’s positive.
You close your eyes and grab the test, your hands are shaking with nervousness. Even if you think that the result will be negative, the thought that it can be positive scares you, and that’s why you close your eyes. The truth is that you don’t even know if you want to open your eyes.
What would happen if it is positive? What would you become if you’re indeed pregnant? Your life would completely change and you’re just not ready for that kind of change. Two years ago, you left your parents’ house because you wanted to pursue your dream of becoming a lawyer. Your career is on the rise, and a baby would completely ruin it.
You most probably would have to come back to your parents’ house, and you’re not even sure if they will accept to help you. Having a baby out of a marriage and with someone that you’re not even dating would be seen as a shame for your family.
Your heart is pounding more and more, it almost feels like it’s about to leave your chest. This simple test can completely change your life.
“You need to see it, yn,” you whisper to yourself.
You gather all the strength you have, wanting to know if your life will in fact change forever or if it’ll stay the same. Slowly, you open your eyes. The first thing you see is the reflection of your face in the mirror in front of you. What instantly catches your attention is how sick you look, no wonder that Jungkook seems worried.
Your eyes gaze down at your fragile and shaking hands that are holding the pregnancy test. A loud cry leaves your mouth and tears roll down your face when you see the result.
Jungkook runs to the bathroom as he hears you but you have completely locked yourself inside and he can’t open the door. He’s trying to get in because he needs to see you and understand what is going on.
“Yn,” he says as he’s trying to open the door. “What happened?”
Your hands let go of the test, making it fall on the ground, and your legs start shaking, barely being able to hold your body. The tears run faster down your face.
The test is positive. Yongji was right, a human being is indeed growing inside of you.
It feels like your entire world just collapsed under your feet and nothing could ever fix it. A baby is growing inside you, a human life has been created and that life will forever change your life. You’ll have to carry them for nine months and then, take care of them forever because they will depend entirely on you.
The fact that you’re pregnant is more than a shock for you. You always took all the precautions for something like that to not happen. All the times you had sex with Minho, he was wearing a condom. You always made sure of it, at least, that's what you thought until today.
Now, as your world is entirely falling apart, you remember one special night, a night that you had forgotten. Minho came to your apartment after a huge argument with his parents, he was really mad and you both drank a lot of wine.
His parents wanted him to get back with Yeri and to marry her as soon as possible. Yeri, his ex, is the daughter of another powerful man in Korea. The union of both families will be the best thing.
But Minho didn't want to be a puppet in his father's hands, he wanted to do things his own way. He wanted to marry the woman that he loves, it was not in his plans to marry just someone because his father craves more power.
You drank for sure a lot that night and had sex on the couch. You were both so needy of each other, and you can’t remember if you used protection. However, it seems like it wasn’t the case.
“Yn,” Jungkook calls you again, “open the door, please.” Hearing the concern in his voice breaks your heart. “Please, yn,” he begs, “I’m worried.”
Jungkook rests his forehead against the door and he finally hears you sobbing and crying. It instantly shatters his heart. He wants to break the door to hold you tight in his arms.
“My life is over,” you mumble as you cry. “Completely over.”
He sits on the floor, his back against the door and he closes his eyes. He doesn’t understand what happened and why you suddenly say that.
“What happened?” he dares to ask.
Your eyes now rest on the door before you sit on the floor and take a deep breath. To say that your life is completely over is an understatement for you. Your parents won’t ever accept you if you have a child without even being married, you’ll be the ugly duckling of the family. They’ll for sure reject you.
How are you going to tell them that? You never introduced them to a single boy and now, you have to tell them that you’re pregnant with the wealthiest man in the country.
“I am pregnant.”
Jungkook is surprised. He knows how careful you are because your career has always been your priority, and having a baby right now was not on your plans. Plus, he knows how important it was for you to get married before having kids.
“Minho?” he asks just to be sure.
“Yes.”
Your confirmation breaks his heart once again. Your friend knows that there’s no hope that Minho would help you with this.
“Everything is over for me, Kook,” you cry even more now. “My parents will disgrace me, and Minho will never recognize this child as his because of his family.”
The reality is hard to admit and it will be so hard to face this situation all by yourself. You’ll be completely alone in this and your baby will never know their families, they’ll just know you.
“I’ll be alone in this,” you add.
You’re convinced your family will let you down because you’ll have a baby out of marriage.
“No,” he replies straight away. “I’ll be by your side and I’ll never leave you.”
Even if you’re grateful for his presence, he can’t change the fact that it’s not going to be an easy thing.
“It’s not the same, Kook,” you reply.
Your friend is perfectly aware that he can’t ever replace the fact that Minho will never be present or that your family will most probably leave you.
“Let me in, yn.”
Right now, you just want to be alone in this bathroom for the rest of your life.
“I want to hug you and comfort you.”
After some seconds of hesitation, you finally open the door to fall in his arms. Nothing can comfort you at this moment, not even his strong arms holding you tight and pressing you against his body. Nothing.

OCTOBER 6, 2018
Yesterday, Jungkook stayed with you until you fell asleep in his arms. He didn’t want to leave you in this state, you were a mess and as your friend, he felt like it was his duty to be by your side.
Jungkook didn’t sleep much during the night, thinking too much about your situation. He wants to help you as much as he can but he feels like there is nothing that he can do. He feels like the only thing he can do is to powerlessly watch your life fall completely apart. But that’s something he can’t accept.
Someone knocks at your door, and without much willingness, you open it. To your surprise, it is Jungkook. You thought that he was going to leave you alone for a little while, giving you the time to adjust to your new reality.
“Hi,” he says while entering your apartment. “I haven’t slept much and drank too much coffee before coming.”
That explains why he looks tired and why his eyes are red.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” you frown while you close the door.
Jungkook finally turns and looks at you. You seem even worse than yesterday, which is totally understandable.
“I canceled all my appointments for the morning,” he replies and you look at him with worry.
Why did he do that? He hates to do it. Even when he’s sick, he works because he hates to disappoint his clients. ‘There must be something really important that he needs to do,’ you thought.
You come closer to him, crossing your arms over your chest. His heart is pounding fast and now, he’s wondering if what he has in mind is actually a good idea.
“I’ll be the father,” he quickly says, causing you to raise an eyebrow, not sure you understood what he just said.
“What?”
He takes a step in your direction, closing the space between the two of you. “Minho will never recognize your baby. His father will never let him do that, or he’ll make sure to make you disappear just to hide the mistake of his perfect son.”
For that, you totally agree with him. Park Joonki will do everything in his power to hide you and your baby, and power is something that he has in abundance.
“Your baby will grow up without a father figure, and I’ll be by your side as long as we live. I am your closest male friend and most probably, your baby will end up seeing me as their father.”
For Jungkook, the chances that your baby ends up calling him ‘dad’ are very high.
“Nobody needs to know that Minho is the biological father,” he says as he takes one of your hands in his. “And I think for your safety, it’s better if nobody knows.”
You just can’t believe that he’s ready to do this for you. What kind of friend is he? A superhero? You don’t clearly know yet, but the simple fact that he wants to help and protect you just proves that he’s the best person you’ve ever met.
“You know, I was actually thinking of hiding it from Minho and his super-powerful family,” you mention while caressing his hand. “It’ll be easier for everyone.”
“No, yn, it’s not going to be easy for you,” he replies. “And for the baby.”
You still can’t believe that inside of you a human being is growing and that one day, you’ll birth them. That same person will be a part of you and they’ll only exist thanks to you. It’s just incredible but it feels like it is just too much for you at the moment.
“I can’t just let you take a role that is not yours,” you say to him. “I can’t let you be the father of a child that is not even biologically yours, and I won’t let you sacrifice your life because I was careless.”
You just can’t accept this. Jungkook will have to put on hold his romantic life because he’ll be too busy to be the father of someone else’s baby.
“I’m not sacrificing my life, yn,” he shakes his head. “I just can’t sit and watch your life fall apart. Minho will probably never accept to be the father of your baby, and we don’t know yet how your family will react. But I know one thing, no matter what, this situation will destroy you.”
You close your eyes, trying to hold back some tears. This is already destroying you. You’re going to be a mother, a moment that is supposed to be the happiest one of your life, and yet, you’re losing everything because of it.
“My love life is dead, and sometimes, I even wonder if girls look beyond my body. They just want to have sex with me because I look like a bad boy when it’s not what I am looking for in life,” he explains. “So, I’ll be the father of your baby for you.”
“No, Jungkook,” you shake your head and turn your back to him. “I won’t let you sacrifice everything.”
You feel his body pressed against yours, his head resting on your shoulder and his arms enveloping your body in his strong arms.
“I am proposing this to you, I thought about it a lot and I am just ready to do it,” he murmurs in your ear. “I’ll do anything for you, yn.”
Those last words send shivers down your spine.
“But I’ll give you some time to think about it, and when you’ll feel ready, you’ll just give me an answer,” he whispers and you nod.
You stay in each other's arms for a while, enjoying the presence of the other.
If you accept his proposition, you know that Jungkook will be an excellent father. He’s just so carrying and loving, and having him as their father will for sure be a good thing. But there is no need to recognize them as his child. No matter what you decide, he’ll be the father figure of your baby.

OCTOBER 13, 2018
A week passed since Jungkook proposed to you that weird idea.
You’ve come back to work, trying to keep your mind busy and to not think only about your pregnancy. At the moment, nobody knows that you’re pregnant. You just don’t know what to do, you’re just too lost. You decided that until you haven’t decided yet what to do with Jungkook’s proposition, you won’t tell anything to anyone.
Not even Yongji is aware of the fact that she was right all along.
When you enter the restaurant, you see your friend sitting at a table alone, and you join him. A bright smile stretches across his lips as he sees you coming. For the first time in a week, you’re smiling. A smile that only Jungkook can bring out.
You haven’t seen him in a week because you didn’t want his presence to influence your decision. You knew that his big doe eyes would influence you or even his presence. With him, you always feel safe and happy. He’d make you say ‘yes’ in a heartbeat.
But it feels good to see him after all this time. Life felt empty without him by your side and time seemed to move slowly. You missed him, more than a lot.
He quickly stands up and he pushes back the chair in front of him so that you can take a seat. “Hi, yn!”
As your eyes linger on him, you notice how his dark long hair is partially pushed back, revealing his undercut, and he’s wearing a white cotton shirt instead of his usual sweaters. It’s a slightly see-through shirt as some of his tattoos can be seen, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s wearing it on purpose. Is he teasing you?
You swipe that thought away, you’re convinced that Jungkook only loves you like a friend and that he wouldn’t do such a thing.
“Hello, Kook.”
Being now in front of him, you can smell his strong perfume. Y Eau de Parfum from Yves Saint-Laurent. You offered him that perfume some time ago, and since then, he has been putting it but only on special events.
Knowing it makes you feel special. So special.
You take a seat, your smile never fading away. The knuckles of his fingers brush against your back, giving you goosebumps. This is for sure new for you, never have you felt that with Jungkook.
Quickly, he walks to his chair and sits in front of you. Although your bodies are still a bit far from the other, his knees skim yours, giving you more goosebumps.
“Wow, you look all good!” you say with a bright smile on your face.
“You look even better,” he licks his lips as his eyes look down on you.
From the moment you entered that restaurant, Jungkook couldn’t keep his eyes off you.
Since you were going out with your best friend, you decided to put on a beige dress with long sleeves. It’s a beautiful dress that you use quite often when you go out and you know Jungkook likes it. That’s actually the reason you’re wearing it. It’s cold outside, at this time of the year, it’s always too cold, and so, you’re also wearing long boots.
From the outside, it really looks like you’re both on a date while you’re just going to decide about the future of your baby.
“Why a restaurant?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow.
Yesterday, you asked him if it’d be possible to meet tonight at a restaurant. Usually, you both don’t go out alone, there is also someone else but you simply want to get out of your apartment for just a moment.
“Just wanted to be out of my apartment.”
His eyes are filled with a lot of brightness, it’s like they are sparkling, and you feel something inside you that you can’t quite explain. It’s like it is the first time that you’re seeing your friend, and this feeling inside you is something you have never felt around him.
Actually, you felt it with Minho but this is stronger. So much stronger.
Jungkook can’t help but find you super attractive, and to him, you’re glowing like never before. He’s wondering if it’s related to your pregnancy or if you’ve always been shining but he never noticed it.
“Let’s take a look at the menu,” you suggest, trying to look away from him, and he nods. His eyes on you are making you uncomfortable and it makes you wonder what you need to do. You take the menu and read what this restaurant has to offer.
After your proposal to go out, Jungkook offered to come here, one of his favorite places. This is the first time you’re coming to this restaurant.
A couple of minutes later, a waiter arrives at your table and asks what you’re going to take. It’s an Italian restaurant and a lasagna is the meal that you choose, you haven’t eaten one in ages.
When the waiter leaves, you focus again on your friend. “I’ve been thinking a lot about your proposition, and I’ve made up my mind.”
He just nods, encouraging you to keep talking. He doesn’t want to interrupt you, scared that you’ll change your mind in the middle.
“I think you’re right,” you bite the inside of your cheek, you’re a bit nervous. “No matter what, you’ll be around and for sure, you’ll be the father figure of the baby. For sure, Minho will never be around, his family will never let him recognize a child he had with some random girl.”
There is no need to be a genius to know that. However, Jungkook was the first one to understand that.
“Having you as their legal father will be helpful for everything.”
The man in front of you listens carefully but a feeling of happiness grows inside him. In some way, he kind of expected that you’d accept his proposition but he was skeptical.
“But in the future, I don’t want to hide it to our child.”
This last week, you realize that it’s better if your baby is in fact recognize as Jungkook’s child. Not only would they grow up with a father but if something happens, he’ll be able to make decisions without you being there. You don’t even doubt that he’d take the right decisions, no matter what.
But if your baby grows up thinking that Jungkook is their biological father, it would eventually end up bad. They need to know that they have a biological father that is not the same as their actual father.
“I don’t want secrets between the three of us.”
For Jungkook, it’s totally understandable. He can imagine the shock someone can feel when they found out years later that the man that raised them is not their biological father. Telling the truth as soon as possible is for sure the best decision.
However, he’s delighted that you accepted his proposition, and he’s more than happy to become a father. All he wants to do right now is jump off happiness and scream to the world that he’ll become a father.
It’s something he has desired his entire life. Since a very young age, he dreamed of having two kids, a boy, and a girl but he always thought that he’d found the love of his life before. He never imagined that his love life would become a disaster as it is right now. The lack of luck on that field made him give up on his dream.
Now, you’re changing everything.
“I will of course say to everyone that you’re the father, I won’t ever mention Minho to anyone.”
If you hide Minho from everyone, they’ll never know that he’s the biological father of the child you’re carrying. Nobody will raise questions and it’s a lot better like that.
“I don’t know what the future holds but I’ll forever be thankful that you’ll take on the role of Minho.”
During this past week, you tried to contact Minho a couple of times but you never heard anything from him. His family is most probably managing to convince him to do whatever they want or he just simply doesn’t want to speak with you anymore.
And it just breaks your heart because you wanted to tell him that you’re pregnant with his child. You wanted to tell him that he’s going to be a father. But you know that most probably he’ll never find out about your baby’s existence.
“As I told you, I’ll do anything for you, yn,” he replies with a small grin. “And now, that includes the small human growing in your womb.”
You reach for his hand and hold it tight, the warmth of his hand on yours is pleasurable. You feel the urge to caress the top of his hand with his thumb. Your eyes get lost in his gaze, and never before have you felt this good.
You owe everything to the man in front of you. Without any doubt, you know that life will be much easier with him by your side. You won’t be scared of the future because he’ll help you deal with whatever may happen to your baby. A baby that is now his.
“Our baby,” you mumble.
Hearing you say that makes it feel real. Jungkook realizes that he’s really going to be a father. You will forever be linked to your closest friend. It doesn’t scare you at all because you know that he’ll be the best father for your baby, even better than Minho.
“Our baby,” he repeats with a big and bright smile on his face.
The fact that you’re pregnant is something that still feels unreal. You guess that you’ll only realize it when your baby bump will start growing or maybe when you’ll see your baby for the first time on an ultrasound.
The dinner went well and you’re both super happy, looking forward to seeing what the future holds for both of you.
You just left the restaurant, walking now to your apartment that isn’t really far but Jungkook wants to be sure that you safely arrive at your place. Now, he has to take care of you and your baby. Things have changed and he doesn't want something bad to happen to you.
As you're walking, your bodies are very close, his hand brushing against yours, and you’re just dying to hold it and intertwine your fingers with his. During the entire dinner, you were just craving his touch, wanting his warmth to embrace your body, and never before it has happened.
“You really don't have to take me home.”
Jungkook stops, looking at you. “I want to be sure nothing happens to you on your way home.”
You can't help but smile at his words. Tonight, the simple fact that he takes you home warms your heart although you’re perfectly aware that he would have done it any other day or with anybody. Jungkook has always been such a gentleman.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you or the baby,” his dark eyes glare down on your body, halting at your stomach, and his right-hand grabs your left one, stroking your hand with his thumb.
“For sure, nothing will happen to me or our baby with you.”
You lean closer and press a soft kiss on his cheek. Both of you feel butterflies down your stomach as your lips touch his skin, and even when your lips leave the skin of his cheek, he still senses them. His dark orbs are totally hypnotized by your sweet face.
In the dark of the night, your face sparkles, and the smile that starts to appear lights your face even more. Jungkook wants to take a picture of your face right now and spend the rest of his life looking at it, remembering just how twinkling you are right now.
You take the opportunity that his hand is holding yours to intertwine your fingers before you start walking again, still with a bright smile on your face.
Since you found out that you were pregnant, it’s actually the first time that you’re happy about it, and it’s all thanks to Jungkook. Seeing you this happy delights him. He just can't wait to see your womb swell but he's even more impatient to meet the baby.
You quickly arrive home. Once in front of the building, you stop but still keep your fingers entwined. You look at each other and you feel like you're sixteen again. It's like you're with your crush for the first time although Jungkook is just your close friend. However, now the father of your child.
“I just don’t know what to say to you,” you sincerely say to him. “You are the father of my baby just because you don't want my life to fall apart and I don't think somebody else will ever do that to me.”
You perfectly know that nobody else would have proposed to be the father of your baby just to protect you from the biological father’s family. Somebody else would have maybe never thought about it.
Jungkook's eyes look down at you and his free hand caresses your cheek.
“As I’ve been saying, I’ll do anything for you without any hesitation.”
As you look up at him, you’re aware that you are both looking at the other differently, making you wonder if you always have felt something more than just friendship for him but never noticed it.
Your hand leaves his and holds his waist tight as you crash your body against his, your head falling against his chest. The silence of the night is quickly replaced by the sound of his heartbeat pounding fast under his broad chest.
To say that you're thankful is an understatement. You don't know what could have happened if he had never suggested being the father. Most probably your family would have been ashamed of you, Minho's father would have given you money to abort or would have done everything to hide you, and you’d be alone, crying for being stupid enough to get yourself knocked up.
“I am so thankful to have met you,” he whispers in your ear. “My life was so bland before you.”
Your arms tighten even more around his waist, loving every word he said. Jungkook smiles, thinking that he must look like a total idiot right now.
“Let’s get inside,” you say to him, “it’s too cold.”
He nods before you both head to the building. You take the stairs as you live on the first floor, it's faster than using the elevator. You open the door and let Jungkook enter.
“Do you want to drink something?” you ask him as you take your coat off.
Jungkook stays at your apartment’s entrance, not moving at all. His eyes are on you as you turn the lights on and ask him if he wants to drink.
You’re beautiful in every way to him. The dress you’re wearing embraces your body perfectly, letting him see how imperfectly perfect your body is. It’s not the first time that he’s checking you out but this time, it’s different. You’re not just his friend anymore. You’re the mother of his unborn child.
Jungkook realizes that he’s looking at you like he’s in love with you. He’s even wondering if the small glass of wine that he drank at the restaurant is causing this all. Without the wine would he be looking at you like that?
“No, thanks,” he answers, shaking his head. “I think I drank too much already.”
A small chuckle leaves your throat, thinking about the only glass of wine he took. Jungkook usually drinks way more than just a glass, you have already got drunk together after a miserable day. You can tell that he’s totally sober right now.
“What makes you giggle?” he cocks a brow.
“It was just a glass,” you answer with a smile on your face. “That was literally nothing for you.”
He rolls his eyes, a smile appearing on his face.
“You don’t even know if I drank something before seeing you.”
You cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow. You’re not convinced at all by his little lie.
“I’ve already seen you completely drunk, Kook,” you say. “I know what you look like when you drink too much.”
“You’re annoying, yn.”
“But you love me,” you’re still smiling at him before hugging him again. It feels good to be in his strong arms, more than good actually.
Jungkook is also liking it a lot but before things get out of control, he just takes a step back. He’s scared to do or say something that he’ll regret. Right now, happiness is taking control of his body but he has to be careful. This feeling is maybe just temporary.
“Maybe, I should get going,” he says.
“No, don’t go,” you pout.
You don’t want him to go. You want him to stay and hold you in his strong arms, feeling his warm body against yours. You have never craved so much his touch as you do right now, and it scares you a lot.
This is new to you, wondering if it is real. You’re pregnant, your hormones are most probably all over the place and the man in front of you is going to be the father of your child. All those elements can cloud your judgment at the moment.
“Stay just a little bit more,” you add.
Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest before your little hands rest on his forearms. Your big eyes can’t stop looking into his, waiting for an answer. To him, it’s like you’re a small kid begging their parents to let them do whatever they want. But you’re just extremely adorable.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
He hates the power you have over him, you don’t have to do much to have him wrapped around your finger. He won’t say ‘no’ to anything you’ll ask.
“You know I’ll give you what you want.”
A smile appears on your face.
“Can we watch a movie?”
He nods before taking his jacket off and putting it on the coat hanger. You grab his hand, guiding him through your small apartment to get to the living room.
“I’ll let you choose the movie while I’ll get us some snacks and drinks.”
You disappear into your kitchen while Jungkook sits on your couch to choose the movie. You’ve already seen so many movies together that it feels like you have already seen all of them.
Quickly you come back with some biscuits and drinks. He notices that you didn’t bring him any beer or alcohol which he's thankful for. He’s way too scared of what he could do with alcohol. You put everything on the coffee table, Jungkook’s eyes watching every one of your moves. You take a seat next to him, getting comfortable by his side.
“I choose some random shit that we haven’t seen yet,” he informs you.
The movie that he chose isn’t important to you, all you care about is to spend more time with your baby daddy. This attraction you’re feeling for your friend is getting to be more obvious to you. You crave more, and you simply can’t deny it.
Jungkook slowly comprehends that right now he’s loving you way more than a friend. The entire night, he was having doubts about it but feeling you sitting next to him gives him the time to realize things.
The way he’s dressed is all for you and to get your attention. He never wore a see-through shirt because he knew that his dates would start flirting too much just to get laid, which was something he didn’t want. But wearing it tonight was like a sign from his subconscious, telling him that he didn’t actually mind getting laid.
Nonetheless, you’re also wearing his favorite dress. A clear sign that he didn’t miss. He can’t help but think that you know what you were going to do to him. Jungkook isn’t wrong at all. At any other moment, you wouldn’t have put that dress on. Deep down, all you were hoping was to ruin the friendship.
You’re sitting close to him, your leg pressed against his, and both of you try as hard as possible to focus on the movie. But neither of you can’t stop glancing at the other.
Nevertheless, it seems that fate desires to bring you together, and the two characters of the movie start to make out heavily. Jungkook's face instantly heats up, completely embarrassed while your body completely freezes. That was for sure something unexpected, especially when you’re realising that you’re probably having a massive crush on the man sitting next to you.
A piece of slow and romantic music plays in the background of the kissing scene. This only puts you both into the mood of the scene. The tension between you and Jungkook is heavily growing.
The two of you ignore what to do as you’re both embarrassed by the way your bodies are reacting to a simple kissing scene. You’re just thankful that it’s not a sex scene otherwise you’d be hiding under the couch, ashamed to be completely turned on.
This is becoming harder to handle as it becomes obvious that this scene is turning you on. You rub your thighs together, craving his touch more and more. Slowly, you turn your head towards him. Jungkook’s body is as tense as yours, you perfectly understand that he’s in the same state as you.
“Kook,” your voice is barely audible but he hears you and finally looks at you. The first thing he sees is how desperate you are for him.
“Yn,” he whispers as he closes his eyes for a few seconds. “Don’t look at me like that.”
The movie is completely forgotten. There are just the two of you and nothing else. The tension between you two is at its highest and what’s going to follow next will only depend on the two of you. Are you going to give in or not? Are you going to ruin your friendship?
“I can’t, JK.”
Your heart is pounding hard, ready to burst at any minute. Jungkook’s eyes go from your eyes down to your lips, resting a little too much on them. He’s wondering what they feel like and the more he thinks about it, the more he wants to taste them.
To you, it is more than evident that he wants to kiss you. So, you decide to be the boldest one, leaning closer to him, and he knows what’s coming, swallowing hard and biting his lower lip. He desperately wants it so he doesn’t move at all as you lean closer.
However, for Jungkook, you’re moving too slow and he decides to close the gap for you, his lips finally meeting yours for a fervent kiss. His hand finds its way to the back of your neck, holding you while he kisses you like a desperate man. It simply feels like you’ve never kissed somebody before.
The kiss is so passionate and deep. Jungkook's lips are soft against yours like he is scared to break you as he kisses you. But they feel good on yours, it’s as if they were meant to kiss you.
As you’re kissing him with love and passion, you realize that since day one Jungkook was more than just a friend. There has always been a connection so strong between you that definitely was more than friendship but you always ignored it. The spark between you was slowly growing stronger and stronger until the moment it would inevitably blow up. That moment is happening right now. It just completely exploded unexpectedly, and god, it’s just so pleasurable.
Jungkook pulls you onto his lap as he craves to feel more friction. That action lifts your dress up, revealing the skin of your legs. He’s craving to feel you in every possible way and bringing your body this close is completely driving him crazy. Both of you are panting hard but it clearly doesn’t matter.
You keep wanting more and more.
As you break the kiss, you quickly unbutton his shirt, to reveal his bare skin to your eyes. You enjoy the view, his tattoos in the full display just for you. It’s not the first time you’re seeing his chest and tattoos, but it’s the first time that you’re looking at his body with lust.
You instantly touch his covered tattooed skin. He has quite a lot of tattoos but there are still some uncovered parts. The ink on his body adds a lot of sensuality to him, and now, it becomes quite clear why all those girls are always so needy around him. He looks like a bad boy, but it’s one with the biggest heart you’ve ever met.
Jungkook shivers from the feeling of your fingertips brushing against his skin. You press your lips against his, needing to be completely intoxicated by him. He licks your bottom lip before he grips it with his teeth, making you moan. As he hears your sweet moan, his dick twitches inside his pants and he’s growing harder underneath you.
You open your mouth, Jungkook seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, finally meeting yours. You moan at the feeling, and unintentionally, he flexes his toned thigh. You feel it in all the right places, making your pussy clench around nothing and it makes you moan again.
This unintentional action ends up being a good thing and he can’t help but smirk. His hands go down on your exposed thighs to caress them. Your skin is soft under his palms and his hands feel huge on your body.
Before doing anything else, he pulls one of his legs out from under you in order for you to adjust yourself on his thigh. Your dress is pushed even higher, Jungkook has now a proper view of your black panties, and your clothed pussy is brushing now against his dark pants.
Both of you know where this is going but none of you wants to stop it. You’re getting addicted to the other more and more and the thought of stopping doesn’t even cross your mind.
“Fuck, yn,” hegroans when you start moving your hips against his thigh.
He presses his lips on yours for a filthy kiss, his tongue passing past your lips and licking against your own. This feels more than good, everything about you is addictive, and Jungkook wants to have sex with you.
This is totally unusual for him but all this situation is different. You’re not just a flirt that he met some days or weeks ago, you’ve been his closest friend for more than a year. He doesn’t doubt that beyond the physical attraction you love him for who he is.
As his tongue plays with yours on your mouth, his hands find their way to your waist and guide your hips as you’re straddling his thigh. A small moan leaves your lips but the man in front of you swallows it directly. He pushes his thigh firmly against your clothed pussy and flexes the muscle once more.
“I like how you’re riding my thigh, butterfly,” he whispers against your lips. “But I want to feel you properly.”
One of his hands slides down on your body and tugs aside the fabric of your panties until your clit is directly pressed against his thigh. A breath falls from your lips as you drag your pussy against his thigh.
Jungkook pulls you firmly against his flexed muscle, and once his hands are back on your waist, he quickens the pace of your hips. A trail of moans leaves your mouth, loving the friction of his pants against your pussy.
“I love to hear you moan, butterfly,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
He just knows what to say and when to do it. He loves to be in charge, that’s obvious and that is a surprising thing for you. You never thought Jungkook would be this type of man. He looks so gentle and adorable all the time that you thought that he’d be the sub type.
His length is getting harder and tighter on his pants, he needs to do something about it otherwise he’ll explode completely.
“I will touch myself as you keep riding my thigh,” Jungkook says with evident desperation in his voice.
Before you can even process what he said, he inserts two fingers in your mouth, and with his other hand, he lowers his underwear, allowing his cock to slap against his lower stomach. His cock takes your breath away, standing proud in between your bodies. He’s a bit thick, but not too much though, and as well long but again not too long. It’s clearly not how you pictured the crotch of your friend. This sight alone gets you wetter.
You suck on his finger, coating them with your saliva, and that alone snatches a groan out of his pretty swollen lips. A proud smile appears on your face. When he feels that they are soaked enough, he pulls them from your mouth. His fingers hold his cock, covering it with your saliva as they go up and down the length.
“Damn,” he mumbles, his head slowly going back at the feeling of his fingers on his length and your clit rubbing against him. “You’re doing this so well, butterfly,” he comments.
The little butterfly nickname brings actual butterflies in your lower stomach. It’s such an adorable nickname even though it’s said in the middle of a naughty time.
You bite your bottom lip as you stare deep into his eyes. The intimacy of the eye contact with the friction against your clit makes the wave of pleasure grow intensely inside you, and for sure, you won’t last long before that wave hits you hard.
“Pleasuring yourself on my thigh while I touch myself,” he growls as his hand keeps pumping his cock. “It’s too hot, butterfly.”
Jungkook runs his thumb over the tip of his cock and grips his bottom lip between his teeth. He strokes his cock at the same pace at which your hips are working on his thigh, and he also feels like he’s about to cum on his hand.
“Fuck, butterfly,” he growls as he looks down to watch your throbbing pussy rubbing against his thigh, “you’re doing this perfectly.”
You put your hand on his shoulder and circle your pussy faster against his thigh. You’re so close.
“Kook,” you say and his gaze meets yours once again, “I’m so close!”
The hand resting on your waist goes down and his thumb circles on your clit. It sends you over the edge, the wave of pleasure hitting you violently and you feel your orgasm in every part of your body. A guttural moan leaves your mouth and you close your eyes to enjoy the feeling.
The sight of you coming undone makes him come, a deep groan coming from his throat as cum flows on his hand.
You hide your face on the crook of his neck, completely surprised that you gave in to temptation. Nobody says anything, you’re just both trying to catch your breath and you close your eyes.
Slowly, you fall asleep in his arms, exhausted from what happened. Jungkook senses it but doesn’t say anything as he enjoys having you in his arms.
As you’re falling deeper, he moves a bit and you groan a bit. “I’m just putting back my pants, butterfly,” he whispers in your ear.
He does it quickly to not disturb you more. “I’ll put you in your bed, you’ll be better.”
“No,” you mumble half-awake, “I want to stay in your arms.”
He stands up, holding you tight in his arms. You mumble some words that he doesn’t understand, making him chuckle. Once in your bedroom, he carefully places you in your bed before laying next to you. He crawls to you, holding you again in his arms.

OCTOBER 15, 2018
For the past two days, Jungkook has been living in your place, only leaving you to go to work. Having him around you all the time has been helping you to embrace and accept this pregnancy even more.
The first appointment with the obstetrician has already been taken and you’re super excited to discover your baby. But most importantly, you want to know if nothing is wrong with them, their health is what worries you the most.
You don’t know exactly how far you’re on this pregnancy, and in the past weeks, there has been some alcohol consumption. That is leaving you wondering if it affected their growth and you just want to be sure that the baby is in fact good health.
Although everything seems to be fine, you and Jungkook haven’t spoken about what happened two days ago. Indeed, just the thought of what happened makes you a bit uncomfortable. But you need to speak about it, you’re going to be parents and you can’t just ignore the feelings you have.
“Kook?” you say as you sit in front of him at the wooden table of the kitchen.
As usual, he’s wearing a large shirt with some training pants but his hair isn’t pushed into a man-bun as he has been doing it quite a lot lately. This simple outfit gives him some sexiness, and you know that in a long term, you won’t be able to resist his natural charm.
“Mmm,” he says looking at you.
“Can we speak about what happened two days ago?”
You’re scared that if you don’t bring the conversation up, he would never do it. When it comes to feelings, Jungkook is always the first one to hide which means that you have to be the bravest one.
The man in front of you swallows hard when he hears your question. Of course, he prefers to avoid the subject since he’s a bit ashamed of what happened. But he knows how important it is to communicate.
“We really need to, JK,” you can see in his eyes that he’s not comfortable. “We are going to have a baby, and being scared of speaking about certain topics is clearly not the best thing to do.”
“I know, yn,” he answers. “I’m just ashamed of how needy I was for you.”
You decide to stand up, walking to him, and sitting in his lap. Your fingers brush his long hair, that part of him is one of your weaknesses. You never thought you’d be into long-haired men but here you are, loving Jungkook’s long hair.
As you sit on his lap, he remembers how well you made him feel when you were riding his thigh.
“Don’t be ashamed,” your eyes look into his dark orbs. “We both wanted it.”
One of your hands goes down on his face to caress his soft skin.
“I never expected to feel more than friendship for you, JK. Never,” his eyes never leave yours, scared that if he closes his eyes, you’ll disappear. “But I liked everything I felt that day and how you made me feel.”
His heart is slowly starting to pound fast.
“Nobody made me feel the way you did, and I was only riding your thigh.”
You don’t even want to imagine how he could make you feel with his cock buried deep inside you.
“I want to feel that every day, Jungkook.”
You’re not ashamed to tell him that you desire more. More of his lips on you, more of his hands on your body, more of his touch. More of him. You want to get addicted again and again until all your mind can think of is him.
“You know that if we do that again, we can’t be just friends anymore.”
That limit seems to have already been exceeded. It happened the moment you found out you were pregnant and he proposed to be the father. That gesture proved that he’d go beyond everything to protect you.
“We already ruin our friendship,” you slightly push some of his hair back. “We stopped being friends the moment we decided to kiss each other.”
His eyes go down to your lips, remembering the way they were kissing him two nights ago. It felt like entering heaven. Since that night, he can’t stop thinking of your lips on his.
“Be my boyfriend, Jungkook,” you tell him. “Don’t be just my baby’s daddy.”
It’s the first time a girl asks him to date her, but the boldness of your suggestion doesn’t even surprise him. Between the two of you, you’ve always been the boldest, and he has always liked it.
He wants to be more than just your friend and experienced love with you. God, there are so many things that have crossed his mind after that night and in all of them, you were his girlfriend.
“You know you already have me wrapped around your finger,” his hands slide down to your waist, bringing you closer to him and holding you firmly against his hips. You can feel his bulge just under your core, and he’s not even hard.
Jungkook hates when he’s not in control, but with you, most of the time, you’re the one in charge. He’ll do whatever you want him to do.
“I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” he adds. “If you want me to be your sex friend, I’ll be it and if you want more, I’ll give you more.”
Without any second thoughts, you kiss him with passion. You want him to be more than just a partner with whom you have fun. The love you both feel for each other is just too strong.
“I want to be your girlfriend, Jungkook,” you whisper on his lips. “I want to give you all the love you deserve.” Your thumb caresses his cheek. “You deserve the love of Juliet.”
A smile spreads across his face, remembering the time you told him that he deserves to be loved like Juliet loved Romeo. Although it was a tragic love story, he wants to know a love as strong as that one.
“And you deserve the love of all the stars and the moon.”
Jungkook kisses you once again. This is something he never expected, to start dating you the moment he becomes a father.

JANUARY 17, 2019
For the past three months, a lot has changed.
Jungkook has moved on to your place because everything will be easier if you live in the same apartment. Since he was sharing his with Namjoon and Yoongi, it was evident that you were not going to live with him and his roommates.
Your relationship is slowly getting stronger as days pass. Not much has changed. You spend more time together now and kiss a lot. There’s a lot of oral sex but no penetrative sex yet. There isn’t any real reason behind it, you’re just comfortable with the oral sex at the moment and you know that there will be more when you’ll feel ready.
To everyone, you have both announced that you were going to have a baby together. The reactions were overall positives. Both of your parents were more than happy and excited to become grandparents. Your parents were a bit tougher because you’re not married, but they still accept it since you’re together. But your mother, as well as his, started to cry as they realized that their babies were going to have a baby.
Your siblings were just thrilled to have a niece or nephew tin the way. The feeling was shared by your friends, some were just surprised that you were having a kid when you used to describe each other as just friends.
Yongji was the one that was a bit more skeptical at first, not truly believing it but you managed to convince her. This little secret, you just want to keep it between the two of you for the moment. You have to admit that you were scared of her reaction. What would she say? Would she still support you if she knows? And as selfish as it sounds, you want to have your best friend by your side during all your pregnancy.
Nobody knows or even suspects that Minho is the biological father of the baby you’re carrying. And it’s better like that, especially since the Park family announced publicly that Minho is going to marry Yeri in July.
You still keep trying to contact him but less than at the beginning. It’s clear now that he’s never going to reach out for you, he’s back with Yeri and he will start a family with her. You’re convinced that this was all meant to be. Minho will never know that he got you pregnant and that he created a human being with you.
“Can I help you?”
You finished work a bit earlier today, there wasn’t much work to do today and you decided that it’d be the perfect occasion to visit Jungkook’s store.
The man in front of you asking if he can help you must be the new partner of your boyfriend.
Last month, he decided to listen to you and found a partner to help him out. Of course, he was picky, and it took him a little while to find the perfect partner. Ironically, his partner is named Park Jimin.
Jungkook has been praising him a lot, and you’re more than happy to see that this partnership is working perfectly. There are even more clients now but your boyfriend finds more time to work on his personal projects.
“I am here for Jungkook,” you say with a smile on your face.
“Do you have any appointment?” he asks politely.
“No, I am his girlfriend.”
“Oh, sorry,” Jimin says before bowing to you. “I didn’t know.”
“Don’t worr,” you still smile at him.
“He’s still working but he should be almost over.”
You nod before thanking him for the information. He proposes to you something to drink or to eat but you politely decline. You’ve already eaten a lot today, this crazy baby has been giving you the wildest cravings and you know that if you start eating now, you won’t be able to stop.
Your stomach is slightly swollen but with all the layers of clothes you’re wearing, it’s not even noticeable. Your baby has been growing a lot lately which leads to your stomach swelling a lot too. You’re certain that in some days, even with all the clothes you put to protect yourself from the cold weather, you won't be able to hide your baby bump anymore.
You were about to take a seat in one of the chairs in the entrance when a man comes from behind with Jungkook following him. The man checks you out quickly but your boyfriend notices it and by the way his jaw clenches, you bet that he doesn’t like it.
Another young lady enters, and Jimin takes care of her while the man pays for what Jungkook did on his body before leaving the store. Jimin disappears behind with the girl, leaving you alone with your boyfriend.
His hair is pushed back into a man-bun, a large grey shirt covering his toned torso while ripped blue skinny jeans cover his long legs. This view is more than mouthwatering. This hot man standing in front of you is all yours.
“Hi, butterfly,” he finally breaks the silence between the two of you.
“Hi,” you smile at him. Watching him like that, all you want to do is make love with him until you forget your own name.
Jungkook walks closer to you, offering you a soft smile. “I was not expecting you,” his thumb finds its way to your cheek, caressing it like you’re made of glass.
“I wanted to surprise you.”
Jungkook leans his face closer to yours, his breath brushing your skin. “It’s definitely a good surprise, butterfly,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
Your boyfriend is a master in teasing and turning you on with a few words. He can literally say “car” and it’ll turn you on. You don’t know how he does it but what’s sure is that he’s a master in making you weak.
Pulling back a little, he stares into your eyes before pressing his lips against yours. The kiss is filled with heat and passion and you already know where this is going. The only problem is that you’re in his store and all the passers-by can see the two of you.
“I have twenty minutes before my next client,” he says on your lips. “We could make good use of those twenty minutes,” he suggests before taking your hand and guiding you to the back of his shop.
You enter his private room, the one where he works on his personal projects and where he eats during his small breaks. There is a couch on the left corner, a small table with two chairs, and a fridge on the right corner. It’s a small room but he doesn’t need much more.
Jungkook closes the door so nobody can come in and disturb you for the next few minutes. There’s music playing in the room. Often from The Weeknd. The song sets the mood clearly.
Your lips meet once again for a languid kiss. You want him so much, and you desire so much more than just his tongue and fingers.
You want him to insert himself inside you.
“I want you, Kook,” you whisper in between kisses.
He breaks the kiss before looking at you. “Take your jacket and pants off.”
You don’t have much time to have sex, and it’s better if you start undressing. So, Jungkook takes his clothes off quickly while you undress too. You struggle a bit more since you’re carrying a little human inside your body.
He opens one drawer from the little furniture next to the couch, taking a condom from it. The sight of the condom surprised you.
“Why do you have a condom here?” you ask while frowning. You’re half-naked and crossing your arms over your chest.
“I kind of hoped that one day you’d come and we’d get laid here.”
This little confession from your boyfriend is surprising. So, all this time he was dreaming of having sex with you on that couch and never said anything to you.
“You’re very surprising when it comes to sex,” you admit.
“Everybody has their own little fantasies,” he replies back.
“But why are you even taking a condom?” you ask him, a bit confused.
You’re pregnant, and the condom is completely useless. You are both healthy, nothing can happen if he penetrates you.
“We don’t want you to get pregnant while pregnant,” he answers.
His answer makes you giggle, and he arches a brow while tilting his head as he does not understand what is making you giggle.
“I can’t get pregnant while being pregnant, babe,” you tell him.
“I read some articles that it can happen.”
Jungkook has been deeply involved in this pregnancy. He clearly doesn’t want to just give his name to your baby to protect you, he wants to be the best partner for you and father for the baby. He has been reading a lot of pregnancy books, and he even chats with some other dads on blogs.
When you found out that some weeks ago, you felt lucky. Lucky to share this with him and to have him by your side. You know he’ll never let you down, and even if the worst happened, he’d give his best to be the father your child deserves.
“The chances are very low, babe.”
This is for sure a question you’ll ask your obstetrician on your next appointment. However, you strongly believe that it would never happen.
“But there’s a risk and I don’t want to take it.”
He’ll gladly make love to you without a condom but he knows how hard it will be for you if you get pregnant while being pregnant. He sees how sometimes it is hard for you with just one baby, and if he could, he’d be the one carrying the baby.
But the reality is different, and your body is the one bearing his child. So, he’ll do anything and everything to make your life easier. And wearing a condom will for sure make it easier.
“Now, take your shirt off, I want to see your swollen stomach.”
Since your stomach started to show, Jungkook adores to see it. Not only does he speak with the baby but he also caresses it. He wants to connect with his child before they arrive. He wants them to recognize him. For him, it’s the way to get really involved. However, he has also developed some sort of weird kink. He also likes to see your belly when you have sexual interactions.
You do as he says, revealing your upper body to him. Your boyfriend stares at your body, the prettiest one he has ever seen. The fact that you’re bearing his baby makes you even more marvelous to him.
“You’re so wonderful, butterfly.”
Your boyfriend guides both your bodies to the couch, sitting on the couch while you sit astride him, your ass pressed against his length and letting your legs rest on either side of his body. Your stomach is pressed against his, and he loves the feeling.
His lips find yours for another passionate kiss, your hands cupping his adorable cheeks while his hands go down on your body, caressing every inch of you.
His lips break the kiss. “I didn’t like the way the client checked you out.”
His little jealousy is something that you find very cute because it’s little. Sometimes, he just says some things like that and you can’t help but find it adorable.
“I could say the same about all the girls that check you out when you walk in the streets.”
Jungkook is terribly handsome, you’re very aware of it. You can’t go for a walk with your boyfriend without having all the girls checking him out. Jealousy is something you constantly feel but you trust him. You know he loves you and he would never do something to break your trust.
You kiss him again fervently, wanting to taste his lips over and over again. Slowly your lips go down to his neck and you decide to mark him as yours. You softly suck his skin and to your surprise he let you do it. He knows that you just want to let all the girls know that he’s already taken.
You feel the rumble of his chest as he starts to groan, and you feel his hands lay on your waist. Accidentally, your ass grinds against his length, and a groan leaves his lips.
“Fuck, butterfly.”
Once you’re done with the little hickey, you lick the sensitive spot and smirk, happy with what you just did.
His fingers find their way underneath your chin and lift it up. He wants his face to be the only thing you look at right now. His eyes are sparkling a lot and you know that you could forever get lost in his eyes.
His lips find yours for yet another kiss and you could kiss him forever without getting sick of it. His tongue licks your lips, inviting you to open up your mouth for him. His tongue explores the insides of your mouth, making you moan into his mouth.
“I need you, Kook,” you gasp as you feel yourself getting wetter. “I really need you, now.”
Right now, all you want is to feel him inside you. You don’t want him to lick or finger you until you’re coming hard as well as you don’t want to feel his cock buried in your mouth until you swallow all his cum.
“Looks like my little butterfly is very needy,” he says smirking against your lips. “But she’s lucky that all I want right now is to feel her tight walls around my hard length.”
You both start removing the last piece of clothing that you were wearing, which are just your underwears. Jungkook finally sets ‘kookie junior’ free, that’s how you’ve been calling his cock lately. He doesn’t like it much but teasing him is one of your passions, so you decided that from now on you’ll call his length ‘kookie junior’.
Your hand starts pumping his length, resulting in Jungkook rolling his head back and letting out a moan. Seeing and feeling his long and thick cock just makes you want to feel him inside you even more.
You move your hand up and down his length at a slow pace at first before quickening. He is getting harder, panting out curses of how good it feels to finally have your hand around him again. Precum is leaking and you use it as lube to allow your hand to easily move along his dick.
“Fuck, yn,” he curses as he looks at your hand working on his cock. But as he looks down, the first thing he sees is your baby bump and that sight can make him come undone in a heartbeat.
You feel his cock twitch beneath your fingers, and you decide to stop this torture. You know that he’ll come right now and you still need to ride him before that happens. A desperate groan leaves his lips.
“We don’t have the time for it, Kook.”
You grip the condom he took seconds before and rip off the packing with your teeth. Then, you put the condom on his hard length while his hand slips to your wet core and he curses when he feels how wet you are.
“Fuck, butterfly,” his cold fingers brushing against your core makes you moan. “You’re so wet,” he smirks and gathers your wetness in his fingers before bringing them to his mouth and sucking them. Your eyes are glued to what he’s doing, and you admire the way your wetness mixes with his saliva in his mouth. This is so fucking hot.
Once he finishes sucking his fingers and the condom is put on his cock, his gaze meets yours and his hands fall to your hips, guiding your body up and then back down as you slowly sink onto his cock.
You moan as he stretches you out, your nails sinking on his shoulder as you feel a mix of pleasure and pain.
“Fuck!” you whimper as he groans, more than happy to be inside of your heat. You’re sure that Jimin and the girl he’s tattooing heard his loud groan, but you simply don’t care. All you care about is to be fucked by this man.
“You’re so fucking big,” you say.
Both of you stay still once his cock is fully inside you. You press your forehead against his, giving time to your body to adapt to his huge cock. You look into each other's eyes and he offers you a big smile.
“It just feels like you were made just for me,” he says, and you smile back at him.
“Maybe we are meant to be together,” you give him a quick kiss.
“I am starting to think that we are,” he whispers.
Jungkook is convinced that when you entered this shop almost two years ago, you were meant to be his soulmate. He never believed in that shit before you, but now that he’s with you, it all makes sense to him.
“I could stay like this forever,” you say before giving him another kiss.
“Me too, butterfly.��
It feels like heaven, even though it hurts a little bit to have him fully inside of you.
“Can I move or do we wait a bit more ?” he asks with concern.
Instead of answering, you grind your hips to let him know that you’re ready to feel him move. Your prominent stomach brushes against his abs and a groan leaves his mouth.
Your forehead leaves his, and you sit up before he starts to thrust into you without any hesitation. His strong hands go down on your hips, holding you in place as his hips begin to thrust you at a slow pace. With every thrust he gives you; you feel your stomach get tighter.
There aren’t words to describe how good it feels to share this moment with him. Everything is perfect with him, and finally having more than just oral sex with him feels like you got a ticket to heaven. You look at him, hot as hell, and that sight makes you moan.
Knowing how Jungkook loves to handle everything when it comes to sex, you know that all you have to do is to sit on his cock and let him do all the magic, enjoying every single second of this moment. He is strong enough to hold your body up as he fucks into your cunt from below. His thrusts become fast as he starts to set a pace you are both comfortable with.
“Feels good, butterfly?” he questions.
You give him a simple nod, not able to make a proper sentence because you’re completely lost in your own state of bliss. Jungkook loves seeing you like this, completely fucked up.
His hands caress your stomach, and in the middle of this debauchery, you can’t help but find this moment adorable. You know he’s doing it to reassure your baby, he confessed to you once when he did it while he was fingering you. And you have to admit that you like the feeling of his hands rubbing your skin.
Your walls pulse around his length, squeezing him and it results in his thrusts becoming more brutal. He is deep inside of you, and you are loving it. Tears start to roll down your cheeks because of the way he’s pounding inside of you. He’s stretching your insides so much with his rough thrust and it makes your whole body tremble.
If he keeps pounding you like that, you’re sure that you’ll give birth right now.
“Gonna cum, Kook,” you whisper to be the most discreet, although you’re sure that Jimin has already understood that you’re both having sex.
Your nails sink into his shoulder, and he groans at the pain and pleasure it gives him. He grips your hips harder as he continues to roughly thrust inside you, and you are sure that you’ll have bruises.
“Go ahead, butterfly, make a mess for me,” he groans as he keeps thrusting hard.
Those dirty words are all you need to let your orgasm go. You are coming, biting your lower lip to muffle your moans. Your thighs are shaking but he keeps thrusting into you while you’re completely high from your orgasm.
Jungkook is completely loving the way you’re creaming his dick and just this sight could make him cum but he is determined to at least make you come one more time before he would come.
Right now, his priority is you and he just doesn’t give two fucks to the client he’s supposed to tattoo in some minutes.
He quickly changes positions, flipping your bodies so that now he is on top of you and you are lying on the couch. Your legs wrap around his waist as he keeps thrusting into you. He’s although very careful with your stomach because he doesn’t want to hurt you or the baby. This is too much for your body and quickly, tears start falling from your eyes, again.
“Kook,” you’re trying to speak but your mind can’t think straight from all this overstimulation, “too m-much,” even though it feels like it’s too much, your body is secretly loving.
“I know you can take it, butterfly. Be a good girl for me, okay?” he whispers in your ear before he licks the spot right under your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You nod and you feel his tongue going down from your ear to your neck.
Jungkook sucks and bites the skin of your neck, leaving a bruise.
“I want everyone to know that I’m the only one who can touch you, butterfly,” his thrusts are still brutal, and you don’t know if your body can handle all of this any longer.
“Fuck, Kook!” you say as your eyes roll back into the back of your head and he chuckles lowly into your ear.
Due to his brutal thrust, the couch is creaking, and your breasts are bouncing like crazy. They also have swollen a lot since the beginning of the pregnancy, and they are becoming heavier as time passes.
His thumb makes contact with your clit and starts rubbing it. All of this feels so bad and so good at the same time, but you never want him to stop. You’re doing everything you can to not moan but Jungkook is clearly pushing you to do it. He’s driving you completely crazy.
The tip of his cock hits that sweet spot and you come all over him again. Your pussy clench around him as a loud moan escapes your lips, and the juices of your release are leaking out everywhere.
He keeps fucking you through your high as he chases his own release. Your walls keep clenching around him and that is all he needs to come. He closes his eyes, enjoying this moment of release and you are sure he’d never look so sexy.
Jungkook collapses over you as he decides to leave your pussy some needy rest. You both try to catch your breath for a little while, and you leave a lot of kisses on his sweet face. He’s loving it and he could stay like this forever but he has one final client before you can both go home.
“I’ll tattoo the client, and you stay here until I come back, okay?” he lifts his head up to look at you.
“Okay, Kookie.”
He pulls his kookie junior out of you before taking the condom filled with his cum and throwing it in the trash. He puts his clothes back on while you do the same but at a slower rate. Before leaving the room, he kisses you.
“Can’t wait to do this again tonight, butterfly.”

FEBRUARY 20, 2019
Minho never expected to see you again, especially not in a supermarket. More than five months have passed since he last saw you.
He's perfectly aware that he’s the one that completely put an end to whatever you two were having. He adored you a lot and under other circumstances, he's convinced that things between you would have worked. But Yeri, his ex whom he dated for years, came back to him, and things changed. He knew that if he chose you over her, his family would always reject you even if you’d get married.
But he chose the easiest way for everyone, avoiding causing a lot of suffering. Things would have never been easy. He knows that he will never love Yeri as he used to but they share a long love story and she is what his family wants.
As you’re looking at the fruits you’re going to buy, your swollen womb catches his attention, making his body freeze completely. Your right-hand strokes gently your obvious baby bump.
His heart squeezes at the sight, thinking that there are chances that he’s the father. He closes his eyes for a few seconds. For the past months, you’ve been texting him frequently, trying to contact him but he refuses to reply because he knows that he’d fall into your arms in a heartbeat. This is beyond hard for him. Of course, he desires only to reply to your calls and texts but things are better like this.
Now, it all makes sense. You’ve been texting him because you want to tell him that you’re pregnant. If he would have answered you, he knows that things would have been completely different. Most probably, he’d be right next to you in this supermarket and he’d be doing some jokes about your bump. Most probably, he’d be preparing his baby’s room instead of planning his wedding.
“Shit,” he mumbles to himself.
As he was about to walk in your direction, he notices Jungkook placing himself next to you. He’s smiling at you while his hand finds its way to your back. If he didn’t know that he’s your best friend, he’d think that you’re together.
You look up at Jungkook before he leans closer to you and presses a kiss on your lips. Minho’s heart squeezes even more. You replaced him like he thought you would but you deserve it.
After kissing Jungkook, you turn around and see Minho from afar. He’s barely recognizable with his hat and sunglasses but you notice him straight away. He’s still the biological father of your child, you’d recognize him under dozens of layers of clothing.
“I’m coming back,” you say to your boyfriend before walking in Minho’s direction.
Jungkook doesn’t even have the time to say or understand what you said before you leave him alone in front of the fruits. Minho sees you coming but he doesn’t move. His eyes are only focused on your stomach. It’s still small but it’s obvious that you’re carrying a human.
“What are you doing here?”
You’re more than surprised to see him here. It’s a public space, anyone could see him and it’s for sure the last place on earth where you thought you’d see him.
“Just needed to buy something.”
A bit far from him, you see his bodyguards. That was the thing you hated the most about him, his bodyguards. They were always around him, never leaving the two of you in peace.
His eyes barely look at your face, and you know this is your only chance to tell him everything. You’ve been trying for months without success.
“We really need to talk.”
This is probably not the best place to have a serious conversation but you don't want to let the chance to speak with him slip away from you.
Minho nods and you take a look behind you, staring at Jungkook. His jaw is clenched, showing you that he's not very happy to see you with Minho but you offer him a small grin, trying to reassure him. The last thing you want is your boyfriend to get worried.
You both start walking in the supermarket as you explain everything to him. From the way you found out about your pregnancy to the decision you took to recognize Jungkook as the father.
Minho’s heart squeezes as he hears how you felt alone the moment you found out, but he’s grateful that Jungkook was there, holding you in such a difficult time. You needed someone at that time, and he just feels sorry that he wasn’t there.
But he can only agree with the decision you took. Although he would have loved to be a father and be there every step of the way, he knows his father. He would have first tried to make you abort. Then, if it didn’t work, he would have simply made you disappear. He would have given you a lot of money to buy your silence and make you leave the country.
“Jungkook will be their father but if you want to see them, I won’t ever stop you.”
“I won’t ever do that,” he replies. His words make your heart clutch, thinking about the fact that he doesn’t want to meet his child.
“Why?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
“All I want for that baby is to have the best life possible. Having two fathers won’t make things easier.”
“We don’t have to necessarily tell them straight away that you’re their father.”
For sure, until they’re three or four years old, you won’t say anything because they’ll be too young to understand and you’re scared that it would not provide them a stable life.
“We could wait for a while and introduce you as a family friend until they’re old enough to understand.”
He doesn’t say anything, just walking and looking in front of him. Being a father is something he has always dreamed of but his family always made things too hard. He ended up not wanting kids, too scared to become like his father. He never wants his children to hate him.
“I want that baby to be protected from my family, yn,” he finally confesses before halting and looking at you. “I don't want them to know the pressure of being part of the powerful Park family.”
You take his hand and squeeze it.
“I prefer it if they never know that I am their birth father. They’ll be safer with you and Jungkook.”
“But you can still be a part of their life. You can still love them and watch them grow. That’s your right, Minho,” you stroke your thumb on his hand. “This baby will forever have your blood in their veins and nobody can change that. They exist thanks to you and you have all the rights in the world to love them and to be loved by them. Maybe it will never be like you picture it but it will still be love.”
A small tear runs down his face, and you wipe the tear away.
“Jungkook and I would never hide to them that he is not their biological father but they’ll only know that you’re the father if you want it.”
“I never deserved to have you in my life, yn,” he answers. “You’re just too nice.”
“You deserve everything, Minho. You’re a good person, you were just unlucky to be born as the Park heir. I know you’ll always take decisions based on your family’s approval but nobody has to know about this baby,” you put his hand on your stomach. “Just you, Jungkook and I.”
He nods before hugging you. This is something he can do. He can be around, see his child grow, and love them but nothing will ever be said to anybody, not even his fiancé. This will be his secret.
“You’ll be a great mother and I am sure Jungkook will be the best father this baby will ever have.”
You’re convinced of the same. Jungkook will for sure be the greatest, loving and protecting father ever.

MAY 28, 2019
Jeon Hyejun.
You’re looking at your baby boy that is peacefully sleeping in your arms. After nine long months of waiting, he’s finally here, and you’re on your own paradise with Jungkook.
Hyejun is perfect, prettier than you ever imagined him. He looks a lot like you but he definitely inherited some traits from Minho, you can’t hide it. Jungkook is sitting next to you in the hospital bed, looking at you and his son.
Nothing prepared him for this very moment. Nothing. He doesn’t even know how to describe what he’s feeling at the moment. All he knows is that he’s finally a father. The father of your son.
When he saw you in his store, scared to do your first tattoo, he never thought that he’ll start a family with you and that he’ll love you more than life itself. But that’s the magic of fate. You don’t know who you might meet tomorrow. Anybody can drastically change your life.
“He’s so beautiful,” you mumble as you pass one finger on your son’s face.
“And so tiny,” Jungkook comments.
Minho was contacted when you birthed Hyejun. He was the one requesting it because he wants to see him straight after he was born. Hyejun might never know that Minho is his biological father but he’ll have him in his life.
He has already opened a bank account for him, and he’ll put some money until he’s old enough to be the holder of the bank account. He will never be his father but he still wants to provide him the best future he can have. Money is something he has in a huge quantity and it’s the least he can do.
“We’re finally parents,” Jungkook adds.
“It’s the beginning of a new adventure for us,” you look up at your boyfriend with a bright smile.
You’re more than exhausted but you wanted to put your son to sleep before you sleep too. You wanted to be the first person to do it.
“And I know it’ll be the best adventure of our lives, butterfly.” As he says your nickname, your eyes instantly look down at his arm where a little butterfly has recently been tattooed. A butterfly made for you. A butterfly that represents his immense love for you. A strong love that he has never experienced before you.
#bts#bts imagine#bts imagines#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook imagine#bts fluff#jungkook fluff#bts angst#jungkook angst#bts smut#jungkook smut#bts x reader#jungkook x reader#before you#spideyjimin
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Emotionally reserved characters
Instead of openly sharing their emotions with others, they keep their feelings locked inside, letting their inner thoughts do all the talking. You get a glimpse into their mind, where a storm of conflicts, doubts, and desires brews quietly beneath a calm exterior. This internal monologue allows readers to understand what’s going on inside their head, even if they don’t show it on the outside. It’s like seeing the world through their eyes, where every little thing stirs up a wave of emotions that they never express out loud.
For these characters, actions speak louder than words, but even their actions are restrained. They communicate their emotions through the smallest of gestures—a slight tightening of the jaw when they’re angry or hurt, a brief flicker in their eyes when they’re surprised, or a controlled change in posture when something makes them uncomfortable. These tiny, almost imperceptible movements can say so much more than an outburst ever could, hinting at feelings they would never openly share. It’s about what they don’t do as much as what they do.
When they do speak, every word is carefully chosen. Emotionally reserved characters don’t ramble or spill their feelings in a flood of words. Instead, they speak in a measured and controlled manner, always keeping their emotions in check. Their sentences are concise, sometimes even vague or indirect, leaving others guessing about what they’re really thinking. It’s not that they don’t feel deeply, they just prefer to keep those feelings close to the chest, hidden behind a mask of calm and composure.
For these characters, what they do is often more telling than what they say. They might not say “I care about you” outright, but you’ll see it in the way they go out of their way to help, the quiet ways they show up for the people they love. Their actions reveal their emotions—whether it’s a protective gesture, a silent sacrifice, or a kind deed done without expectation of recognition. It’s these unspoken acts of kindness that show their true feelings, even if they never say them out loud.
They often have strong personal boundaries. They keep their private lives just that - private. They don’t open up easily and are cautious about who they let into their inner circle. They might deflect conversations away from themselves or avoid sharing personal details altogether. It’s not that they don’t want to connect, it’s just that they find it hard to lower their walls and let others in, fearing vulnerability or judgment.
When they do show vulnerability, it’s in small, controlled doses. These characters may have moments where they let their guard down, but only in private or with someone they deeply trust.
Sometimes, emotionally reserved characters express their feelings through objects that hold special significance to them. Maybe it’s a worn-out book they keep close, a piece of jewelry they never take off, or an old letter tucked away in a drawer. These symbolic objects are like anchors, holding memories and emotions they can’t express in words. They serve as tangible reminders of their inner world, representing feelings they keep buried deep inside.
When these characters communicate, there’s often more to their words than meets the eye. They speak in subtext, using irony, implication, or ambiguity to convey what they really mean without saying it outright. Their conversations are filled with hidden meanings and unspoken truths, creating layers of depth in their interactions with others. You have to read between the lines to understand what they’re really saying because what they leave unsaid is just as important as what they do say.
Despite their calm demeanor, there are certain things that can break through their emotional reserve. Specific triggers - like a painful memory, a deep-seated fear, or a personal loss - can elicit a strong emotional response, revealing the depth of their feelings. These moments of intensity are rare but powerful, showing that even the most reserved characters have a breaking point.
Over time, emotionally reserved characters can evolve, gradually revealing more about themselves as they grow and change. Maybe they start to trust more, opening up to those around them, or perhaps they experience something that challenges their emotional barriers, forcing them to confront their feelings head-on.
#writing#writer on tumblr#writerscommunity#writing tips#character development#writing advice#oc character#writing help#writer tumblr#writblr#creative writers#wrtblr
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You want to manifest your dream life?



I gotcha! This post is right here to make you stop over-consuming content about LOA and finally be able to manifest your dream reality!
Decide:

Okay, so you first need to decide what you want to manifest.
You want to live in a penthouse and in a Big mansion with your family or sp? you Can! You want to wake up in a magical world you created Guess what? Yes, you Can!
Do you want to wake up with your desired appearance from head to toe? Yes, you Can. And when I say you Can that means you're fucking limitless don't let anybody limit you, 'cause you’re the creator of your own reality, not theirs but yours, and you create the rules here!
throw logic out the window! cause it won’t get you anywhere if you still ask “if i can manifest that and that..”
Okay, so when you decide what you want to manifest you might wonder what will you do next?
Well, it's simple really. just decide that you already have it.
But how?
By simply deciding that you already have your desires/dream life in your 4D/imagination.

using methods:

Now you might need to use methods and by methods that means techniques that will help you achieve your desires and that make you fulfilled, you Can Also create your own method that suits you well.
Note: you don't need to do a certain method that everyone uses and that doesn’t resonate with you.
You Can click here and here you will find all the methods that were used in the LOA community.
my favorite: affirming and this method (click here!).
Then when you start affirming for your Desires or use methods to manifest your Desires you might encounter some issues with the 3d.
Things start going the opposite and you’ll start giving up and doubting yourself and the law.
And that when it comes to the important thing to do and it is called persisting.

Persist:

when you see things start going up the opposite way (in the 3d) and that is when you need to do your job by persisting in the idea of already having your desires in the 4d, by being consistent and stubborn in your assumption.
that it! easy right?
you might have some questions about all of this and how to react in certain situations with the 3d I advice you to read these posts and documents:
This one , this , this , this , this one, this, this.
and lastly, stop it like really stop consuming info and not applying the law, you can stay on this app but just don’t be obsessively always here, always waiting for a new post to make you realize what method or technique or what it is will make you manifest your desires.
remember the key is self, and yes you, the reader who is reading my post, you have such infinite power inside you that could change your whole world 360 degree.
remember to trust yourself and to have faith in the unseen, you can do it I have my trust in you, and always remember that some people were in extremely difficult circumstances and they did what? yes succeed, by having faith in the unseen and persisting in their imagination and now they’re living their best life.
be gentle with yourself, take care of yourself, and prioritize your mental health.
Summary:
: ̗̀➛ decide what you want to manifest.
: ̗̀➛ affirm (or use any methods).
: ̗̀➛persist.

chao chao!
xoxo, Eli.
© Scentedpeachlandcreator.

#law of assumption#𓍢🌷᭝۪﹗Eli's Archives#loa#loa tumblr#loa blog#law of manifestation#how to manifest#loassumption#loablr#manifesting#void state
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DRIVE ME INSANE
“You drive me insane!” you snap, jabbing your finger into his chest. “Yeah, I’d say the feeling’s mutual, sweetheart,” he retorts, raising an eyebrow, his gaze dropping momentarily to the finger poking his chest as though he’s admiring your nerve.
pairing: CEO! satoru gojo! x f!reader
summary: cheating on your husband who couldn’t care less about you, satoru gojo — your fervent lover — has a nasty habit of showing up unannounced, threatening to ruin all the lies you’ve built for your husband so far by leaving all too visible marks after a hot session. however, after a very first argument with him, you’re determined to throw all your anger at him. but neither of you can ignore the tension between the two of you, especially when satoru is ready to take full responsibility.
warnings: +18 MDNI, smut, nsfw, cheating (the husband does it first but according to the timelaps it’s explained all along in this silly fic :p), CEO! gojo, lover! gojo, kinda slight toxic! gojo but he’s just desperately in love, angst, hurt/comfort, angry sex (i tried at least), sex (p in v), rough sex, possessive! gojo, overstimulation, unprotected sex, fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving), he’s rich asf, fanart by @/kiyoro2 on X.
wc: 8,193
a/n: second warning before reading this fic if you didn’t read the warnings: you need to know that the husband in this story cheats on the reader BEFORE her. he’s cold, not loving her anymore and cheating on her BEFORE the actual timelaps but you’ll know it only while reading through, got it?
i don’t like writing about cheaters because they’re horrible but this is just a “revenge” not really said out oud (you have to guess). this is just a warning so some of you won’t catch me with hate/discourse or anything around it because i would have written an “unfair cheater” lol. enjoy reading, tho!
“Hey, darling.”
The sweet melody of Satoru’s voice rings to your ears, sending a crude shiver that runs down your entire spine. Among all of the several times you were alone, with your husband gone to work like a hooked on it, the white-hair man always shows up at your door when you do not expect it.
So, of course, you’re always on the lookout, nervously stealing glances here and there at the door, through the window to check the parking lot of your apartment block, or even your phone if the miracle of him sending you a message occurs. Despite the thousands of times you’ve warned Satoru, the latter doesn’t seem to listen to you.
Your lover goes into your apartment, a classy decoration without any warmth of household — just a simple apartment.
From the cooling fireplace, to the pristine couch and the American kitchen where you are doing the dishes, Satoru always comes to the ‘warmth’ he was craving at your place.
You.
As simple as that.
He’d ignore your groans when his arms find your waist to hug you from behind. And the only sensation of the flat of his torso pressing to your back quiets down every thought, every breath you’d take, every worry and word that would escape the barrier of your lips.
It was just him. Satoru Gojo.
Not your husband. But your lover.
Maybe a word that had a deeper meaning behind any kind of link.
And what hurt the most was the fact that you would crave calling any man that was yours ‘my husband’ in any situation to bring that pride up your chest.
Yet, the last time you’ve pronounced those exact words, was the day you met Satoru.
You were doing the queue for a coffee shop near his headquarters, but how would you know that detail, hm? It was fate, he thought when he approached the queue and ended up behind you as your eyes were glued to the menu card in order that you could choose your drink.
And yet again, he couldn’t help but feel intrigued by you. Your silhouette standing still, vaulted shoulders, a small frown on your lips portraying your hesitation and two beautiful and mesmerizing eyes...
Oh, Lord, that was the only detail from you that this poor man will never forget and will haunt him every single next second.
And, of course, Satoru Gojo isn’t that kind of man who lets fate dictate his life.
He was the only one distracting it. Wanted or not. Period.
“An Americano coffee?” he spoke with his lowest voice to not scare you. He stepped closer to you, his form hovering you as his face lowered to the height of your shoulder. “Thought pretty girls like you always chose espresso.”
Your head jerked up and your eyes met him for the first time.
“W-What…?”
The most unfair, charming smile tugged at Satoru's lips’ corners. “Why don’t you take an espresso? Is it because of the price, darling?” he cooed.
Unsettled by his more-than-strange intrusion, you replied without thinking twice, “Since when, espresso is better than americano?”
And, oh, dear, dear Lord, why were you testing him like this with such an angelic mortal like him? Couldn’t you let him live his life like it was meant to be? Why does this futile and innocent frown have such a ravishing effect on him? Tearing his heart apart, grabbing and stealing his breath to run away with it so he won’t be able to find any air but yours to use to survive in this old world?
“I don’t know. It’s more boring. Not elegant, and not fitting the vibe you give off, darling.” His blue eyes fell down on the ring around your finger, and his mind unconsciously prayed that you weren’t taken.
“It’s my husband’s favorite coffee,” you just responded like an irreversible sentence.
But Satoru didn’t let the situation get him down.
“Oh, so my pretty lady is taken? What a shame.” A little smirk spread his lips, and widened even more when he noticed how low was your affirmation. “I suppose he has bad taste in everything… but for women.”
A furious blush flustered your cheeks. “How dare you—”
“Yes, I dare, darling,” he almost hummed. “You really need someone to show you what is good coffee. Nothing but starting with that. What do you think?” he offers.
The queue moved on, and the chic café provided all the atmosphere of having a nice cup and a nice drink just to chat with anyone on a sidewalk seating area.
But, no, you were newly married. Your husband would be devastated that you’d let yourself be seduced by a complete stranger.
Although not so simple, considering how beautiful he was, with his perfect good looks, no one seemed to see anyone but him. And he couldn’t see anyone but you.
“So what, darling?” he insisted with a gentle tone. “Let me take your order and show you what coffee is.”
He pauses.
“If you may.”
The thought of letting him buy you a cup of coffee had obviously heightened your sense of unease and betrayal. But the memory of your husband leaving early in the morning without hello in your bed, his eternally neutral and unpleasant tone, his female co-workers leeching off him and all the effort you put into making your house feel like home haunts your mind.
With a resigned nod from you, Satoru almost jumped for joy and did a happy dance in front of the whole café.
How long had it been since he’d wanted to act like a child?
Satoru requested a small bottle-green round table on the sidewalk seating area, whose sunshade above unfurled like a fan protecting you from the bright sun of the day.
“By the way, I’m Satoru Gojo,” he introduced himself. He settled into the chair opposite you as the waiter left to take your orders.
You quickly introduced yourself. But the young albino didn’t fail to notice how lovely, humble and charming you were.
The perfect woman for him.
“I’m a CEO,” he added, maybe to impress you.
Surprise streaks your features. “Oh.”
He had expected more of a reaction from you, but you ended up disappointing him.
So he tried to restart the conversation to break the ice that had formed between you and him. He wasn’t one to usually go after people who were already taken. Yet, his instincts told him to stay with you. As if the north and south poles couldn’t help but attract each other, Satoru was slowly but surely drawn to you.
The orders were placed delicately on the table, and your lovely espresso cup, so exquisitely prepared, almost broke your heart at the thought of ruining its beauty by drinking it.
“This café serves the best coffee in town, you know. I come here often enough to say that with confidence, and also to notice that you didn’t know it,” he said, taking a sip from his own cup before propping his elbow on the glass table to rest his chin against his hand. “Admit it, you walked in here by chance.”
You almost choked on your sip of espresso, startled by his perceptiveness.
“It’s written all over your face, darling,” he said with a grin.
Still reserved, a hint of embarrassment flushed your cheeks with a soft blush that Satoru could have died to kiss.
“So?” he changed the subject. “How’s the espresso?”
“Very good,” you mumbled, lifting your gaze to meet his. Then you hesitated to continue with your real thoughts. Would he get bored listening to you like your husband usually did? Would he cut you off to end what he might see as pointless chatter?
“Just very good?” His eternally sincere and attentive smile lingered on his lips. He was definitely ready to hear every word you had to say.
You took a small breath. “Actually, the espresso has a sweet vanilla aroma that gives it a smooth taste on the palate, lingering just enough to make you want more. The foam is also very pleasant because it’s neither thin nor too frothy. The texture is creamy and at the perfect temperature to avoid burning your tongue.” You let out the last breath that the whole monologue had cost you.
“In short, it’s perfect,” you added softly.
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Satoru murmured, his eyes locked on yours as if they would never let go, haunting forever the memory of the moment you two met.
“Glad you like it, by the way.”
For a first meeting, it could have seemed trivial. When it was time for you to leave, Satoru found the courage to ask for your phone number. To your own surprise, you accepted without hesitation. His company was pleasant, after all. He listened to you without ever interrupting, and seemed genuinely interested in you. And as a bonus, he was easy on the eyes.
So, was it really surprising that you looked forward to your next meeting with him?
“It’s not a date,” you reassured yourself in front of your mirror while applying gloss and straightening your clothes to keep them spotless.
The second time you met, it was at the same café.
The same orders.
But with a little more joy.
And with every meeting, there were a little more laughs, more teasing, more good moments, fewer bad memories flying away, and your doubts fading into the tranquility that Satoru Gojo brought you.
He quickly became an excellent friend. As you started opening up more and more to him, he began to allow himself to give you advice, rolling his eyes approvingly during your ranting sessions about your husband, where, despite the pang in his heart, Satoru kept repeating that you deserved better.
And as time went by, your bond with him grew stronger. You didn’t feel so alone anymore. He always found time for you, even when he was busy at the office.
Your husband’s absence quickly became just a minor detail in your life.
Especially when Satoru started showering you with gifts you categorically refused. If it was a dress one time, the next it was a necklace of genuine pearls, or lunch at fancy restaurants you never thought you’d set foot in.
The guilt inevitably crept up on you from every angle.
Whether it was over the fact that Satoru’s devotion to you made you feel illegitimate in receiving so much from someone who wasn’t even your partner. Or your husband.
Was it betrayal?
You weren’t cheating on him.
You were just spending time with someone who made time for you.
How could one equate cheating with this friendship, right?
This question lingered until the day, during a dinner with Satoru, when he had stepped away for a few minutes to settle the bill, a young man approached your table, trying to flirt with you and convince you to end the evening at a nightclub his friend owned, where they’d be delighted to meet you along with the rest of their crew. With all due respect, you refused, despite the young man’s persistence.
And when Satoru returned to the table, he immediately sat beside you, his arm infuriatingly well-placed around your waist to keep you close.
“Can I help you? My wife seems tired; tell me what you need,” Satoru chimed in, his tone icy as he glared at the young man.
“You’re married?” the man choked out, his tone echoing the same shock you felt internally.
“Yes, I’m her husband. Isn’t it obvious?” he confirmed.
Later, in the chilling silence outside the restaurant, Satoru restrained himself from pulling you into a tight hug as the two of you walked down the street. You walked at a more reasonable distance from him, your chin lowered in guilt toward the ground.
The night sky was a deep navy blue that evening. The stars barely sparkled, and only the snow added a touch of brightness to the urban landscape, where the yellow and orange streetlights could never match the glitter in the sky.
“You alright?” Satoru asked softly, stealing a concerned glance at you.
“I’m… fine,” you muttered.
He couldn’t hear any more of that. “Hey, if this is about what I said earlier—”
“Who said it’s about that?” you snapped defensively. Suddenly, it felt like all the perfect moments had turned into nightmares.
“I didn’t mean to make you unco—” he began, but you cut him off again.
“Who said I was uncomfortable?” you bit out, your brows furrowing as if you couldn’t take any more. “It’s not like I feel like a cheater—”
“Don’t call yourself that. It’s him,” Satoru interrupted sharply, immediately grabbing your wrist to hold your hand. “It’s all his fault. So, please, don’t feel—”
“God, I’m a married woman, Satoru, for fuck’s sake!” You tried to pull your hand back, but Satoru held it tighter.
“And a woman who also deserves better than to feel bad for her shitty husband who’s probably cheating on her!” he fired back with the same intensity. “Do you even see what you’re losing with him, at least?”
“Where is this conversation going?” you asked, squinting. “What the fuck do you mean? For weeks now, you’ve been telling me I deserve ‘better’!”
The situation felt so wrong yet so right at the same time. But it was only in Satoru’s eyes, watching you with a worried crease between his brows, that the truth lingered.
Of course, he didn’t want to lose you.
“Because you do,” he mouthed.
“But with who?” you cried out in despair.
“Isn’t that obvious?” he whispered, echoing his earlier words.
Even though the two of you had stopped walking and now faced each other, the wintry wind continued to swirl around you, biting at your cheeks already burned by the cold, screaming the answer behind his words. Snowflakes tangled in your hair, scarf, and coat. On Satoru, it was different — the snowflakes melted into his hair, his nose and cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, and every exhale left a white cloud trailing from his lips.
Only his eyes remained untouched. Fixed on you. Truthful.
“You can— You cannot,” you finally sighed, ignoring how your body felt simultaneously on fire and frozen. You staggered toward a nearby wall. “Take back what you just said, not to me,” you whispered almost pleadingly. You shut your eyes for a moment, as if trying to wake from a nightmare.
Satoru closed the distance between you in a single stride.
He gently took your hand and placed it against his chest. “Yes, you’re right. I cannot. My heart is yours. I cannot deny it. I cannot control it. I cannot help it. Do whatever you want with it. Even broken and unrequited, my heart is yours and only belongs to you.”
His breath brushed your cheek so tenderly it felt unreal — yet so undeniably real.
And this time, from your point of view. No longer his.
The suffocating closeness became unbearable. You were about to break. He needed to step back, to leave, to go.
“I— I…” you stuttered.
Thoughts swirled in your mind, just like the snowflakes around you both. Every thought blurred together, and only one tried to rise above and clear the chaos.
But it was the worst thought of all.
And yet, the only one capable of deciding the next move.
In a spontaneous gesture, you bent your head toward Satoru’s lips, sealing both the kiss and the fate he had always fought against.
It didn’t matter if you both ended up hurt.
No matter what the consequences.
Now was not the time to think about that.
As you tried to pull away from Satoru to catch your breath, he pulled you against him the next second to taste you once more, the heat intensifying even more to the point of melting the snow falling on you. Each kiss exuded forbidden desire and despair.
And even when you two pulled away, you didn’t keep any gap.
Just you and him.
As it was always supposed to be.
To feel.
To live.
Fluttering your eyes open, you come back to reality.
How did you get here?
It's a familiar scenario, or not.
Satoru arriving unannounced, you busy with household chores, your husband away for perhaps the next day.
But a premonition clouds all common sense.
This day is different. You don’t know from where, or who or what, but one thing is sure.
This time spent rambling has made you forget all about the dishes still waiting for you, while a plate and a sponge damp with foam hang from your hands. Another very humdrum day. Grey sky, water-logged clouds ready to pour and burst in a storm that never comes.
Satoru’s arms wrapped as a feather’s touch around you doesn’t feel as good and soothing as before.
“Missed ya,” he mumbles close to your ear. “How are you, darling?”
“You know that he could be here,” you scold in a low voice. “You can’t keep showing up at my door unannounced.” You continue with your dishes without returning any embrace. Nothing seems to fit. Your response is borderline nasty.
“You’re alright?” he asks softly anyway, not detaching himself from you.
His voice resonates like a cave inside you. A cheater who’s also unfairly mean, how can a better description describe you? you think.
You hum.
One of Satoru’s large, rough hands tenderly caresses your waist. “Do you have time for me? If you’re not tired, of course. I can’t help but need to crave your presence.”
Your heart slowly contorts in your chest, hidden beneath the cage of your ribs. “I didn’t mean to be rude, sorry—”
“Don’t apologize, love.” He presses a sluggish kiss on your cheek. “You must be so tired.”
Only the sound of the water rushing down in the sink can be heard in the kitchen. You close the tap and sigh, hands resting on the edge of the sink. “I need to finish the dishes and some chores, maybe you can sit on the couch and rest?” you offer, slightly turning your head around to meet his gaze.
How can a man be so perfect?
“I can help you,” he offers too, then puts a long forefinger on your lips to quiet you. “It wasn’t a question.”
If only this man could be your husband. Life would be easier in his company, wouldn’t it?
About half an hour later, Satoru fully joins you in your cleaning mission, tackling everything from the remaining dishes to the dusting and other tasks that make him scrunch up his nose in mild disdain.
As he wanders into the bedroom you share with your husband, Satoru passes by a photo frame he hasn’t truly noticed before. It’s a simple picture of you, smiling brighter than ever alongside a man who should be him. The man with HIS arm wrapped around your waist. The man with HIS lips pressed against your temple while, in Satoru’s eyes, you radiate as the sole light of his life in your wedding dress.
You pass quietly behind Satoru, a clean cloth in hand.
“Toru?” You rise slightly onto your toes to peek over his shoulder, noticing what has held his gaze for so long, leaving him as still as a statue. “Oh. I was going to clean that.”
Taking the frame into your hands, a pang of guilt twists your heart as Satoru’s blue eyes follow every inch of the photo. His gaze weighs on you, heavy and suffocating with discomfort.
One sweep of the cloth, and the modest frame gleams.
“Why do you keep it?” he asks in a breath.
You look up, your gaze as lost in his as you are. “What do you mean?”
“This picture,” he says, pointing at it with his finger. “Didn’t you say you wanted to throw it away?” His low tone brushes your cheek with a soft rumble, and his features tighten in a small frown of confusion, the weight of which seems to press on your soul.
“I—” You sigh. “My husband put it here. I don’t know why.”
“And you didn’t throw it away.”
You open your mouth to respond but hesitate, unsure of what to say.
“...You know I can make your life easier, don’t you?” Satoru murmurs as he slowly, almost theatrically, lets his arms wrap around you after tossing your cleaning cloth aside.
“I know,” you murmur, as if it’s the most obvious truth. As always, your body melts against his, the way two souls inevitably fuse together.
“Would you leave this life behind and finally settle down with me?” His arms tighten around you, pulling you flush against him as he takes a deep breath into the crook of your neck. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”
The atmosphere in the room thickens suddenly. Guilt surges within you, as it always does. It seems like it can never leave you alone.
Of course, Satoru is hurt—that much is clear.
“I really would, Satoru, but right now, it’s complicated,” you breathe against his collarbone, the corners of your lips tugging downward.
“When will it stop being complicated, then? If not now, when?” His grip on you tightens.
“It’s not that simple.” Familiar terror coils in your stomach now, threatening to drown you. This conversation is heading toward turbulent waters.
He pulls back slightly, just enough to align his face with yours. His eyes search yours for answers. “You know, sometimes I wonder how long I can keep waiting for you to finally decide if I really matter.”
You blink twice, stunned, before resting your hands on his shoulders. “Hey. What do you mean by that? You matter to me—you know that, don’t you?” Your brows furrow gently, your expression softening despite the rising tension.
“I don’t want to hide anymore. And I don’t want to see you stressed about hiding either,” he whispers in a gruff tone. His expression mirrors your own: lips slightly pursed, brows furrowed, and eyes filled with a mixture of exhaustion and worry.
“I’m… sorry,” you murmur, the only words you can manage. They are genuine. They are truthful. Just like Satoru always is with you—never a lie.
Even when he leans down to kiss you slowly, you can feel his emotions pouring into it.
Hurt. Today, you ponder, returning the movement of his lips as your eyes flutter shut.
Quickly, the pressure of his lips grows more intense. Each time your mouths part, Satoru makes sure they reunite as swiftly as they separate. Breath soon becomes scarce, and things take a turn when his hands grip your hips so firmly you fear marks might be left behind. You try to pull away quickly.
“Satoru, wait— I need to be careful this time, you know,” you whisper softly against his fervent lips. “It’s been a while now that he’s started wondering why I don’t want to have sex with him.”
“You always come up with an excuse, don’t you? A few marks won’t mean anything,” he mutters, eyes closed, as though the fire within him burns hotter than ever for you.
“He’ll see them. I just want you to be careful,” you insist. But your attempt is futile, as his kisses grow more passionate. Each one is placed meticulously on the sensitive spots of your body while he gently guides you toward the bed, lowering you onto it.
“I want to please you so badly,” Satoru confesses, his vulnerable gaze meeting your half-lidded eyes as he hovers above you. His eyes brim with an intensity that makes your heart ache.
“Let me take care of you.”
Your expression softens immediately, the growing heat between your thighs matching the fire in your chest. “I want it too, baby. But are you sure you want to do this?”
He nods firmly. “I’m sure. And you?”
“I am.”
In the moments that follow, you no longer plead for him to avoid leaving marks. Deep down, you doubt he’ll listen to you on that.
Especially when his lips press against your neck, your collarbone, the shell of your ears, and the valley of your breasts. His mouth kisses, sucks, marks, nibbles, and even gently bites at your skin—all to draw whimpers, moans, and sighs of pleasure from your lips. The same lips he endlessly worships, just as he does every inch of you.
~~~~
Fresh out of the shower, alone but with your phone, you receive a message that immediately catches your attention as you sit cautiously against the edge of your bathtub.
I might be a little late tonight. Have dinner without me.
Your heart immediately falls into the pit of your stomach.
Is this for your co-worker again? Can’t she finish her work on her own like everyone else?
A minute later, a message appears:
It’s normal, I’m her superior.
At the same time, your eyelids contract around your eyeballs. You feel a rush of heat, and adrenalin tingles your insides.
You know I don’t like her. And yet you continue to spend more time with her than with me. Do you think that's normal?
Why do you always have to get mad? Just admit that you’re jealous.
And the last word is like a slap in the face.
This is how you started.
Part of you knew it all along. But another part was in denial. It was shortly before Satoru became your lover that your husband started seeing a female colleague far too often, making eyes at her while you stood there like an idiot, watching them exchange glances where your voice would carry the same weight as the silence of their own eye contact: nothing.
Satoru had warned you.
He tried to prevent your heart from breaking as much as possible.
And this is the result when denial wins out over reason:
...You like to call me ‘jealous’ these days, tell me?
And the irony reeks in your message.
Of course, he started calling you ever since that infamous colleague showed up.
It’s as if he’s implying every time that you’d be envious of something you don’t have. So, it’s easy to figure out now, isn’t it? Why would he even talk about jealousy otherwise?
And why does he just leave your message on ‘read’?
~~~~
“I told you to be careful.”
“You always know how to escape him.”
“I’m running out of excuses.”
“You’re smart. You’ll fix it. As you fix everything.”
And who to fix me?
Sitting in front of your vanity, you swallow, feeling sick to your stomach as the purple and blue marks Satoru has left on your body from his hickeys don’t disappear from your view even as you discreetly pinch your arm to check you're in a nightmare.
Unfortunately no.
After pressing your anxiety-stricken face into your trembling hands, you lift your head to meet your reflection once more. In the corner of the mirror, Satoru’s silhouette lies casually, a smug, teasing smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Your shaky fingers grab hold of your cheap foundation, the cap refusing to budge under the weakness of your frantic movements. Every second wasted only fuels the growing panic — your husband could walk in at any moment.
The beauty blender, however, seems just as uncooperative. Each attempt leaves you looking more like a clown. No coverage.
Only regrets. Regrets you can no longer conceal, no matter how much you try.
A heavy, trembling sigh escapes you despite your best efforts to stay calm. From behind, Satoru lets out a distinct chuckle, rich with amusement at your growing frustration.
He’s moved closer now, standing right behind you, his gaze almost entertained as he watches you struggle to mask the marks with concealer this time. But no layer of makeup can save you. None is thick enough or looks natural enough to hide what you’ve done.
“Why are you even trying? It’s not going to work,” Satoru whispers close to your ear. “Why not just give up and tell him the truth?”
“Satoru, get out.”
“Make me.” His tone is dripping with that insufferable grin.
You clench your fists, fighting the urge to smash it right off his face. Your heart hammers in your chest like cannonballs, threatening to break free from your compressed rib cage.
Everything can’t fall apart this quickly, can it?
Not after all the effort you’ve put in.
“You look like a clown, by the way,” he quips, the bluntness of his words scratching your heart. You let out an involuntary, quiet, “Ouch.”
“Did you just come here to use me as your personal slut? To call me a clown? If I knew, I wouldn’t have let you in at all,” you spit as you turn your head, locking your glare onto his.
Satoru’s expression softens at the sight of your deepening frown. “I didn’t come for that. And you’re not a slut. Why are you so mad?” He cautiously places his hands on the backrest of your chair, his movements calculated.
You scoff bitterly. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”
“You’re still mad about the marks? It’s just a few bites and hickeys—it’s not that big a deal,” he says, though his face mirrors yours: tense, confused, and searching for answers.
He’s never been like this.
“If you’re hurt, then I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I just want you to stop stressing over some bites. I’ve always done this. I haven’t changed, you know.”
You turn completely in your chair to face him, blood rushing in your temples. “Tell me this is a joke. Or a prank.”
“I said I’m—”
“Why didn’t you listen to me about the marks? About the fact that I don’t have any excuses left? He’s going to find out now. And instead of helping me, you’re mocking me because I look like shit with this?” you shout, pointing at the streaky, cakey makeup smeared over your collarbone.
Is this what a couple looks like? Fighting to hurt each other as much as possible?
Satoru can see how deeply his behavior wounds you. The way you swallow carefully, trying to keep your emotions at bay. The way your eyes are beginning to redden, signaling the impending arrival of tears.
Lowering his voice, he speaks, hoping against hope that you’ll break down and let him handle everything. Let him erase this life with your husband and give you a better one. He knows you can keep living under a mountain of lies, but he’s suffocating.
“Okay, I’m really sorry if I hurt you,” he murmurs.
“If you were that sorry, you wouldn’t lie about using me whenever you please. You wouldn’t just act how you want without asking me what I truly want or need. Why? Because you’re selfish, Gojo,” you snap, your voice cracking slightly. You rise abruptly from the chair, intent on leaving the room before you explode.
He immediately grabs your wrist, pulling you into him, and tilts your chin up to meet his eyes. The panic in his movements betrays him—he’s afraid you’ll say something that will tear him apart.
“Don’t—Don’t call me that. Sweetheart—”
“You know what? Just tell me I’m your slut. Because that’s clearly what I’m meant to be for you,” you cut him off, tears pooling in your eyes and threatening to fall. You yank your wrist out of his grip with a sharp movement.
His hands move to cup your face, desperation bleeding through his trembling fingers, even as he tries to conceal it.
“Okay, I messed up. But please, don’t degrade yourself. You’re not my slut. You’re the only person I love and care about. I—” He exhales shakily, his jaw tightening and relaxing in quick succession. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just… I’m so damn jealous. I get so jealous when I think about him… with you. I can’t stand it anymore.”
“Is that all this is? Jealousy? What’s the fucking point of it?” you retort, shoving his hands and arms away with enough force to make your blood boil. Then, in a blind fury, you hurl the concealer bottle across the room, the sound of it hitting the wall echoing like a final, deafening blow.
Satoru flinches slightly at the sound of the concealer bottle hitting the floor. He knows you’re holding back, teetering on the edge of exploding. “It’s not just jealousy,” he admits softly. “It’s fear, anger... and love, I guess.” He runs a tired hand through his snowy hair, sighing deeply. “And knowing I can’t have you the way I want to… that drives me insane.”
A vein pulses visibly in your temple, your frustration bubbling over. “You drive me insane!” you snap, jabbing your finger into his chest.
For a brief moment, Satoru’s lips almost curl into a smirk, but he stops himself when he sees the fire blazing in your eyes. He knows you’re serious, that this isn’t the time for his antics. Yet he can’t help but find you captivating like this—unapologetically yourself.
“Yeah, I’d say the feeling’s mutual, sweetheart,” he retorts, raising an eyebrow, his gaze dropping momentarily to the finger poking his chest as though he’s admiring your nerve.
The silence that follows is suffocating. The only sounds are your heated, shallow breaths, echoing in the small space between you.
You take several slow, deliberate steps back, your eyes fixed on his ocean-blue gaze. You catch the flicker of a moment—a split second where his eyes dart to your lips.
The tension between you is almost unbearable. The faint brush of his hips against yours as he steps closer sends a ripple of unease and anticipation through you. Your breaths mingle in the narrowing space. You both know exactly what’s happening, yet neither of you moves to break it.
“I hate you, you know that?” you whisper, pouring all the bitterness and hurt from your chest into the words.
Satoru raises an eyebrow, his face a mere breath away from yours. His broad, powerful form looms over you, trapping you against the wall without lifting a single hand. The tension radiating from him is magnetic, suffocating.
“That’s a lie, and we both know it,” he says, his voice soft and calm, but laced with that maddening confidence.
His heart pounds wildly in his chest, the light graze of your body against his and the fiery defiance in your darkened eyes making him dangerously close to losing control. He wants to kiss you—devour you—so badly it hurts. But he knows he’s already crossed lines, already messed up.
He clenches his fists, willing himself to stay composed. He would never take advantage of you like this. He’d rather let you hurt him, use him, break him into pieces.
Oh, screw it.
“Sweetheart,” he mouths, barely audible. His lips form the words so softly that you have to read them. His intense eyes stay locked on yours, unwavering. “What are you thinking right now?”
“This isn’t the time for your stupid jokes—”
He silences you with a single, long finger placed gently on your lips. “Answer the question, love.” His towering frame looms closer, his voice a deep rumble, and the tension only thickens.
You take a shaky breath. “Y-Yell at you, hit you, throw everything I have at you to finally make your goddamn mouth shut for good,” you hiss, your anger slipping through the cracks in your voice.
“Do it, then. I’m the one who’s wrong.”
Your lips part, and your eyes widen in surprise.
Satoru grabs your trembling hand and firmly places it against his chest, right over his racing heart. His voice softens. “Go on. Yell at me. Hit me. Use me however you need to.”
His pulse mirrors yours, beating in sync, loud and unruly.
Your gaze catches the subtle flicker of his eyes darting to your lips again, the ever-so-slight sway of his body bringing him closer.
When you lift your hand, Satoru doesn’t flinch. He braces himself, ready to take whatever you’re about to give him.
But instead of striking him, your hand fists the collar of his shirt. With one hard tug, you pull him down, crashing his mouth onto yours in a desperate, fiery kiss as though it’s your last breath.
Satoru responds immediately, kissing you back with the same raw intensity. His large hands snake around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips, teeth, and tongue all move in a fervent, chaotic dance with yours, each touch more intoxicating than the last.
When he finally pulls back, his breath is ragged, his lips still brushing against yours. He doesn’t let you go, his arms holding you close as if letting you go would shatter him.
“Sweetheart,” he rasps, his voice low and rough, chest heaving against yours. His hand trails to your neck, then your jaw, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “What are you thinking now?”
His warm, uneven breaths ghost over your lips, and you fight the overwhelming urge to kiss him again. Your anger hasn’t fully subsided, still simmering beneath the surface.
“You. You’re haunting me. Sometimes so much that I can’t think of anything else,” you admit, your voice trembling with emotion.
His eyes burn brighter, the ardor in them impossible to miss. “God, sweetheart…” he murmurs, pressing soft, fluttering kisses along your neck, his lips scorching your sensitive skin. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this. Wanted you. Only you. No more lies, no more heartbreak.”
Each kiss he plants on your skin draws breathy, unsteady sighs from your lips. “Y-You’re selfish…” you manage to say between ragged breaths, your nails digging into the firm muscles of his biceps. “So fucking selfish…”
“If being this desperate for you, for your love, is selfish, then I’m on my knees, my love,” he replies, his voice like velvet. He kisses the marks on your skin, the ones you tried to cover, with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. “I’m all yours. Completely yours.”
He slides the strap of your tank top down, revealing more of the skin he adores. His lips graze it gently as he whispers, “I didn’t mean a single word about you looking like a clown. I just want you to be happy… with someone who loves you and doesn’t cheat on you.”
His hands cup your face delicately, tilting it up so your eyes meet his. His voice drops to a whisper, raw and sincere. “I’m deeply sorry, sweetheart.”
The genuine vulnerability in his gaze hits you hard.
You punch his chest — not out of anger, but because you don’t know what else to do with the emotions clawing at your chest. “I hate you, remember?”
A smile spreads across Satoru’s face, soft and warm, despite the tension in the room. “As much as I’m obsessed with you.”
Your free hand tangles itself in his silky white hair, tugging lightly as your fingers weave through the strands. With just enough force, you pull him down once again, capturing his lips in a searing, passionate kiss that holds every ounce of anger, frustration, and longing you feel for him.
As surprising as it may seem, Satoru lets a smile stretch against your lips — pressed together in a sloppy, wet kiss that blends tongues, lips, and teeth. Your chest, magnetized to his, feels the pounding of his heart, each beat drumming against you like a bass drum.
Your teeth part, biting his lower lip cruelly, hard enough for a faint taste of blood to seep into your mouth. Yet, he doesn’t seem fazed by it. In fact, he lets himself get intoxicated by your steamy breath, swallowing every gasp of air you exhale as if it’s his only source of oxygen.
With a natural ease, one of Satoru’s hands grabs yours and pins them above your head, pressing them against the wall as his pelvis grinds into yours. You feel the growing bulge you’ve provoked pressing against you.
“See what you do to me?” he breathes in your ear, breaking the kiss sloppily.
“And you’ll lose it completely when I fuck you until I’m the only one you’re thinking of,” you snap back, wrapping one leg around his hip before climbing fully onto him. With both legs now locked around his waist, your back is pinned to the wall, and your newly freed hands are poised to ravage your lover.
Blood rushes through your temples, creating a buzz in your ears. Your flushed ears mirror the crimson tips of Satoru’s. Supporting you with one arm, he uses the other to trace a finger across your lips, smearing the remnants of his blood there.
“Can’t wait to think even more of you — even though you already fill all my dreams and nightmares,” he murmurs with a sly grin. Then, both hands slide to your thighs, gripping them as he carries you to the bed—the same bed where you had your last steamy session with him.
Kneeling at the foot of the bed, Satoru settles between your legs while you lay back comfortably, fully aware he plans to take care of you before you ruin him. With practiced ease, his rough but tender hands remove your pajama shorts and panties, discarding them to the floor with a soft rustle. Your skin is adorned with earlier marks—purplish bruises, handprints, and hickeys — all of which tell a story (a decidedly sexy one, at that).
Just the sight of your spread legs, offering him an unobstructed view of your glistening, swollen folds — still slick from earlier—ignites a fiery tremor in his core. He’s practically salivating at the sight but regains focus when your heel presses sharply against his shoulder, a silent demand for urgency.
“Don’t make me wait,” you mouth, locking your gaze with his as his mouth inches dangerously close to your core.
Impatience mingles with the tension crackling between you. The moment his lips close around your clit, a hiss escapes your mouth.
Your fingers thread through his snow-white hair as though it’s the only lifeline keeping you from falling into the abyss. His warm, skilled tongue laps at your folds with slow, ravenous intensity. Every stroke of his tongue sends jolts of pleasure surging through you, spurring him to drink you in until his thirst is quenched.
“Satoru, f-fast—ah,” you stammer when his tongue flicks your now puffy, sensitive clit with pinpoint precision.
Your eyes roll back, your breath quickens, and your body trembles with each wave of pleasure. Your hands tug incessantly at his hair, driving him absolutely wild.
“Faster?” He looks up at you, his mouth still latched onto your center. “Is that what you—lick—want? Keep ripping my hair out, then.”
And that’s exactly what he makes you do. Your hips buck involuntarily toward his face, and he grunts in approval, gripping your hips with his large hands. Then, he lifts your legs over his arms and shoulders, perfectly positioning himself to devour you even more deeply.
Determined to make you cum as quickly as possible, the tip of his tongue teases your dripping, needy entrance. He feels your walls fluttering, your core pulsing and throbbing, empty and desperate.
The idea of filling you crosses his mind.
“Poor thing needs to be filled, huh?” he chuckles darkly, his voice thick and gravelly.
When he slides a long finger into you — slowly, carefully — the way your velvety walls clench tightly around him nearly makes him lose control on the spot. You grip his digit so tightly, drawing him deeper, that every movement inside you elicits louder, breathier curses laced with frustration.
“Don’t try to mock me, you bast— ah!” you moan, throwing your head back on the mattress the second after the pad of his forefinger reached your cervix — a spot that you can never reach yourself and even your husband. “Oh my God, I hate you so much…”
“You know what I love the most when we’re doing it?” Satoru whispers with a smirk, bringing his damp lips back to your clit to suck your bud at the same time as he’s fingering you. “When you lose all—kiss—your—lick—control—suck—only from my touch, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he purrs against your core, his finger curling up right in your sweet spot. “Say you hate me baby, I’m just waiting for you to be ready and take care of me.”
“I—you buck your hips harder—hate you,” you groan louder and firmer than earlier and clench around him right before cumming hard, hips bucking up against him and arching your back with no control over it.
Your vision blurs and star-like spots pop on your darkening vision. The intensity of your orgasm crashes over you so hard that for a few seconds, you’re losing almost all your senses — hearing, sight and touch — because of your mind going dizzy.
When the sensation wears off, a quick glance to the side reveals an already undressed Satoru, his impatient length just waiting for your attention — already twitching and hard like rock for you.
With a wry smile plastered to his lips, he reaches over you to grab your hips and gently lift you up and switch places — him lying on his back and you sitting so sensuously on top of him with your thighs delicately wrapped around his hips. He can't resist submitting to you completely.
Your still pulsing core rests straight on his cock, like you are riding him for real — or not yet.
Your senses restored, you don’t wait long before raising your hips, Satoru’s hands still holding them, and taking in his drooling length of precum with one hand. As you lower your hips, the fat tip of Satoru's dick pushes forward your hole and gets trapped in your walls glistening with your juices.
You both moan at the same time, head throwing back and mouth open ajar from the strong pleasure. Each inch that was moving further more into your cunt until the mushroom tip kisses your cervix was already being milked because your walls are so fucking sensitive that it’s making Satoru’s eyes roll back and babble nonsense.
“Sweet— Sweetheart, don’t squeeze y-yet, I need time to—” But you cut him off with your forefinger pressed against his handsome lips.
“Nuh-uh.” You lean in with a mischievous smile plastered on your face, eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of being on top of him. “You’re going to be a good boy and take my pussy, understood?” And you punctuate your warning with a sharp bounce of your hips that makes him moan with pleasure then nod hurriedly.
“Mhh—hmph!”
So you start moving your hips up and down with purposeful slowness.
Your hand wraps around his throat and squeezes gently. Your hips bounce harder each time, and you ignore Satoru’s uncontrolled moans, which, despite his clenched jaw, can't help letting out moans and whimpers of pleasure.
“Who’s a good boy, tell me?” you ask, thrusting down your hips along his cock harder once more.
“N-Not gonna say it, sweetie,” Satoru chokes out between breathless hiccups because your hand squeezes his throat harder. “You can bet it— God…” He can feel your walls tightening around him, your core pulsing and his length throbbing inside you and at the verge of spilling out all the cum his sensitive balls were holding back. His hands grip your hips with more force that it’ll leave marks but you both don’t care anymore.
It’s just you and him having sex to see who will break first.
Your heavy, noisy breaths — not to mention the wet sounds of your skin slapping against each other — fill the room. Hot blood courses through both your veins, but nothing can stop your hips from slamming mercilessly into Satoru, tightening every time you’re bouncing on him.
Even though you two are at the verge of reaching orgasm, you wanted to have your way with him this time.
“I hate you, Satoru Gojo,” you groan, leaning your chest against his before moving faster as your breath. His arms wrap around your back to get you close and then he can start matching your movements.
He presses his lips on your ear and whispers breathlessly, “I’m your, utterly yours,” right before cumming at the same time as your, his semen filling immediately your cunt as you clench around him and let out a similar pathetic whimper like him.
Toes curled up and eyelids shutting down, you both hug each other until the orgasm goes away. Not before a good one minute. Silence fills the room before your brain melts away to focus on the still rapid beating of your heart against Satoru’s chest.
“After this, I’ll help you pack your important things and we go home. Our true home, okay?” he murmurs against your ear. “I’ll give you the life you want and deserve, sweetheart. No need to think about anything or anyone else.” And he concludes with a loving kiss on your temple as you nod, resting your cheek on his collarbone.
His big hand runs through your tousled hair before continuing to tenderly kiss your burning faces.
“I hate you,” you mumble, your mind growing heavy for a sleep.
“I love you too.”
a/n: it's been a while that i didn’t write a long one-shot like this one but it’s relaxing in a way lol. a big thank you for @/lymsfm for helping me through this hell, i genuinely don’t know what i would do without you and sorry for all my rants and your patience by listening to me getting crazy for literally everything 😭. so on this, i hope you guys enjoyed this fic and see you soon! <3
tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422
@drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @catrizzz @sanemistar
@monokaix @moonlitwitchdaisy
#[azra masterlist]#[dividers by @/saradika]#satoru gojo#satoru gojo fanfiction#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru gojo angst#gojo angst#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk gojo#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#gojo x you#jujustu kaisen#gojo fluff#gojo#jujutsu kaisen smut
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