#Perfectly done! <333

[iheartmoons]

ok so!! small reminders about me, since i do feel like lately a lot of blogs have been following me that don't agree with my opinions in the harry potter fandom specifically!

first and foremost, i am a minor. if you have in your bio "minors DNI" please don't follow me? or interact with my posts?? if you're over thirty, try not to respond to my stuff. grow up and learn to ignore it.

i do not care about, nor do i like snape. if you disagree with me, that's perfectly fine, i totally respect that, and good for you. however this blog is not a snape-loving environment. if that bothers you too much, you can unfollow me. i certainly like a lot of problematic characters (barty, evan etc), but i dont cry about it when others disagree with me.

i am not a death eater apologist, despite enjoying their characters. in non-canon stuff i love all these characters, they're amazing. however i'm not one of those people who think that the canon characters deserve to be forgiven because of abuse they've faced. if you disagree, again that's fine. but please be aware of this. (yeah i enjoy their characters, but they dont get to be forgiven)

if you dislike lily evans (or sirius black), just do not interact with my blog. i'm strong on this one. i don't like people who dislike lily evans. call me immature, i don't care. it's one thing i will not budge on!! any other character, and i could understand. but not lily babes <3 and also, i will strongly hate you if you hate sirius. really not kidding about this one.

if you strongly dislike jily, jegulus, or wolfstar, you probably shouldn't be here. i dont like discourse.

[tbaluver]

I feel like you’re the perfect author to get this done!! I was wondering if you could do the l&ds boys and their reactions to you crying during sex? Not because you’re upset but either from a genuine love for them or overwhelming feelings and sensations. I love your work so so much!!! <333

When You Cry During Sex- The Love And DeepSpace Men

genre/warning: smut included MDNI, comfort and some fluff

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader

a/n: hihi anonnie!! im so so happy to hear you love my work! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ i hope this is alright and that you'll enjoy this !!

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He gazes down at you with a look that combined lust and adoration, one hand reaching to gently cradle your cheek. He sinks into you so slowly as his hands roam free. He lowers his head down where his lips kiss at your neck. He pants and gasps against you, thrusting inside of you deeply. It's the way he took his time with you to give you what you want. Your bodies connected, souls intertwined. He was always so tender and affectionate with you that you didn't even notice the tears racing down your cheeks. Oh how you loved this man so deeply.

He would be SO worried. He would be internally panicking the moment he saw your tears. He'd slowly stop his pace and start asking multiple questions if you were uncomfortable or in any pain while wiping your tears away. He'd also ask if you'd want to stop but you'd cut him off and say no because that's the last thing you want and you were so so close to your climax.

He'd relax to hear you were okay while wiping any extra tears that ran down and replacing each tear with a kiss. You'd apologize for crying but he truly does not care because he insist that he will always be there for you and to wipe any of your tears away. He'd continue his pace to reach your climax and to meet his own.

Zayne:

With his perfectly angled thrusts, you can already feel the intense pleasure building inside of you. Your fingers fist his hair, gripping and pulling at the strands while he thrusts himself into you. An elongated groan strings from his lips as you tug his hair, his head tilting back with your pull, mouth agape while sighs escape him. His eyes peer down, continuing to stay locked on you.

He was so deep inside you, his cock twitching at the sight of his tip pushing slightly against the skin of your lower belly. The way his long fingers curling tighter into your hips to fuck you even harder. The way the man you love always made you feel so so good. He was also so affectionate and prioritized you first even to make you feel so good.

The pleasure coursed through your body with every quick and deep pump of his cock that you didn't even realize the tears tracing down your cheeks.

He would freeze, literally

His pacing would stop, immediately asking you multiple questions of "Are you hurt?" "Would you like me stop?" while he cups your cheeks and wipes your tears.

When you reassured him and explained what happened he was patient and relaxed to hear you were okay. He would always be understanding and sweet. He would draw you in closer, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head before gently pressing another kiss on your lips. It wouldn't take long for you both to get back to where you were and help finish you off.

Rafayel:

Rafayel liked having you on top of him because he can see you bouncing on top of him with your tips going up and down and seeing your face contorting with pleasure every time he reached a little deeper inside you. You work on his cock as your hands roam around his sculpted chest. Both of your grunts and moans echoed in the room as you fastened the pace. You were so close to your orgasm as your movement began to get sloppy. You were desperately chasing your high that you were unaware of the tears quietly sliding down your face.

The tears running down your face made Rafayel panic. He'd stop completely and sit up as he wipes the tears staining your cheeks while babbling "Are you okay?" and "I'm so so sorry." He would get cut off mid sentence when you'd whine and beg to let you continue while pulling him closer so he'd understand.

He would smirk understanding what those tears meant and let you continue back to work. But this time he would take control and grab your hips bringing you up and down, slowing your pace to tease you. "Tell me how much you love bouncing on my cock pretty girl."

Sylus:

Watching your face contort into pleasure was one of his favorite things. He starts thrusting faster, rougher than before, his own sounds of pleasure mixed with yours bounced off the bedroom walls. You whine from the sensation as his places his lips onto yours to soothe you, to comfort you.

Sylus was always so warm and big inside of you. The way your tight hole was fluttering around his girth made you see stars. You don't remember how many times you came on his cock as he rutted against you. Your legs were wide open as his cock was pumping in and out of you in such a fast motion that you didn't even realize tears are leaking from your eyes.

He refused to always take his eyes off you. He's always an observant partner so when he saw the tears run down your cheeks, he would slow down. His voice would be so gentle and ask if you were in any pain and if you would like to stop completely. When he heard you whine to go continue, he would pick up the original pace and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

"Am I making you feel that good baby? Do you want more?" While kissing the back side of your knuckles or down your neck to your collarbone.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Pretty in Pink || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

gif by @rafescurtainbangz

Summary: Just you amused by Rafe and Ward’s phone call.

Warnings: suggestive, reader n rafe smoking, swearing,

Word count: 742

A/n: these canon scenes are so fun to write 😭 lmk if you want more of these <333

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

"That's rough. I mean, yeah, it could've been anyone, right?" Rafe furrowed his eyebrows, trying to appear nonchalant. "Not really, Rafe. It could be one of a very few people," Ward retorted sharply, his frustration palpable even over the phone.

Rafe shrugged, his indifference almost theatrical. "Well, I mean, you know, we were just giving it away anyway. So, who cares?" Ward let out a loud exhale, running a hand down his face. The annoyance in his voice was unmistakable, and Rafe took a perverse satisfaction in knowing he was getting under his father's skin. "Okay, Rafe, okay."

Just then, you stepped outside, your pretty pink tennis set hugging your figure perfectly. A cigarette was cradled between your index and middle fingers, and you brought it to your lips, inhaling deeply. Your eyes locked onto Rafe as you exhaled a plume of smoke, your gaze unwavering.

Rafe grinned, his eyes roaming appreciatively over your body as you sauntered towards the couch. "That's done for now. I need you to finish the list I gave you," Ward continued, his voice a mix of frustration and command.

Rafe pulled the phone away from his ear briefly. "It's Ward," he informed you, sitting down on the couch, as if it wasn’t already obvious from the tone of the conversation. You hummed in acknowledgment, kicking your feet up on his lap. Rafe put the phone on speaker, leaning back as Ward’s voice filled the room.

Rafe glanced at you, a smirk playing on his lips, clearly enjoying the chaos he was stirring. "I want you to sign for the East River property. When that's completed, shut down the offices—" Ward's commanding tone reverberated through the speaker, each word laced with finality.

Rafe rolled his eyes dramatically, a gesture that made you stifle a giggle. "Yeah, no, I—actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. I'm thinking maybe we should keep the offices."

A heavy silence fell, the kind that made every second feel like an eternity. Rafe's eyes stayed on you, watching as you took delicate puffs from your cigarette, the smoke curling elegantly in the air.

"What?" Ward's voice finally cut through the quiet, laden with confusion and annoyance. "Yeah, I'm thinking maybe I should stay down here for a while, really grow the company. I think it'd be good for us, right?" Rafe's tone was casual, almost nonchalant, but you could sense the underlying cunning.

On the other end, you heard Ward groan, a sound full of exasperation, followed by a long, weary exhale. The tension was almost tangible, crackling through the phone. "He's not too happy about it, huh?" you observed, a wry smile playing on your lips. You extended the cigarette toward Rafe, offering it to him. He leaned in, taking a slow, deliberate drag, the tip glowing brightly as he inhaled.

He hummed in response, a low, satisfied sound that matched the glint of amusement in his eyes. As Rafe exhaled a plume of smoke, his gaze never left yours. You could see the thrill in his eyes, the satisfaction he derived from ruffling his father's feathers. "Who is that?" Ward's voice pierced the air, sharp and demanding, as you and Rafe exchanged a glance.

"Hey, Ward!" you greeted him with a saccharine sweetness, your tone a deliberate contrast to the tension that hung in the room. "Rafe, this is supposed to be a private conversation—" "For fuck's sake, Dad, she knows everything already," Rafe interjected, his eyes rolling in exasperation, a gesture that elicited a soft chuckle from you.

Ward's frustration was palpable, his voice tinged with impatience. "Listen to me, Rafe—" Rafe didn't hesitate to cut him off, his tone firm and commanding. "No. No, no, you listen, okay?" His hands moved instinctively to rest on your thighs, his touch both grounding and possessive. You felt a surge of warmth at his touch, a silent reassurance amidst the tension.

"You listening?" Rafe leaned in, his gaze unwavering as he reached to place the phone on the coffee table, his actions deliberate and decisive. "You remember when you told me to make myself useful? Well, that's exactly what I'm doing. I'm making myself useful, alright?" Rafe's gaze on his phone was intense, his voice commanding, as he asserted his authority.

As Rafe continued speaking, outlining his intentions with a firmness that brooked no argument, you decided to get up and fetch the ashtray from the other side of the coffee table. "I can do shit, you know? Explore options, so for the-" As you walked past him, focused on your task, you suddenly felt the sharp sting of Rafe's hand slapping your ass, causing you to yelp in surprise.

"-for the benefit of all, I think I'm gonna hang out for a while, okay?" Rafe's voice carried on, his words interrupted only momentarily by your startled reaction. The mixture of surprise and amusement danced in your eyes as you turned to face him, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Rafe, listen to me. You are there for one reason and one reason only. You are to act as my proxy to shut down the companies, okay?" Ward's voice had escalated in volume, clearly expressing his displeasure with Rafe's defiance.

"That is our one play. It's—it's our only play. And if you cannot do it—" Ward's words were abruptly cut off by Rafe's interjection, his irritation and anger palpable as he stood up, his movements sharp and agitated. "If I can't do it?" Rafe's voice echoed with incredulity, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Then what? Then what?" he exclaimed, his tone laced with both sarcasm and defiance.

"You gonna hop on a plane? Come down here, huh?" Rafe paced back and forth on the porch as you watched from the couch, amusement dancing in your eyes. "I mean, it'll be like a goddamn Elvis sighting, Ward fucking Cameron, everyone!" Rafe's voice boomed with exaggerated theatricality, his arms thrown wide in mock grandeur, eliciting a snicker from you.

"Oh my god, he lives! He's back from the dead!" Rafe continued, his words punctuated by his animated gestures as you watched with amusement, thoroughly entertained by your boyfriend's antics. With a scoff, Rafe turned towards you, his expression resolute. "I got the family ring now, Pops. Yeah, I'm wearing it, and it's my time to step up, okay? You're dead." And with that, he abruptly hung up the phone, tossing it onto the couch beside you.

You opened your arms, inviting him in for a hug, and without hesitation, he collapsed onto you, inhaling your signature perfume. Your nails traced soothing patterns on his back as he nestled against you, his frustration still palpable as he muttered against your skin, "God, he's fucking annoying," eliciting a chuckle from you.

Checking your watch, you sighed. "Babe, I gotta go, the girls will be waiting for me," you informed him, attempting to disentangle yourself from his embrace, but he stubbornly refused to budge.

"Where'd you get this set from? This new?" Rafe's fingers toyed with the waistband of your skirt, the fabric teasingly brushing against your skin. "Mhm, you like it?" you teased, a smirk playing on your lips.

"Do I like it? Fuck, of course I like it, baby. You're so pretty in pink," Rafe's gaze lingered appreciatively on your body before meeting your eyes once more. "Tell the girls you'll be a bit late," he murmured, his hands trailing up your skirt teasingly, causing you to playfully throw your head back in feigned annoyance. "Fine," you acquiesced, though the mischievous glint in your eyes betrayed your true feelings.

[minasweep]

hii guys <33 (literally abt 2 sleep)

[kimstills]

i can see you

pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader summary: "here i was thinking that i was special because you would only look at me with that desperate look on your face, but i see that you give any old man that look, right?” content warnings: jealous!hotch, reader is a panther (aren't we all), bathroom sex, mirror sex, p in v, sexual tension, unprotected sex (r mentions being on birth control but wrap it before you tap it!), rough sex, dirty talk, size kink if u squint, spanking, hair pulling, choking, dom!hotch, sub!reader. word count: 3.9k (y’all this was not supposed to be this long lmao) notes: day 18 of @hotchfiles marchhotchness 'self-image' but also HEAVILY inspired by this post from @softhairedhotch because it made me go FERAL and i love jealous hotch (but pls lmk if taking inspo was okay!!) this is also my first hotch fic ever so pls lmk ur thoughts or any other feedback <333

aaron hotchner was not a jealous man.

he had no right to be jealous over something that technically did not exist or someone that technically was not his.

and although he only had himself to blame for that, he really did wish that you were his. and as much as he was telling himself not to be, he was jealous.

but it wasn’t the typical jealous where he watched you be approached by someone much younger than him—someone your own age instead of his—and by someone who already had him beat in reciprocating that flirtatious energy you often used on aaron himself.

no, this type of jealousy was one that was boosting his ego and making him feel lightweight, albeit the fact that it still made him see red.

it was a typical night out with the rest of the team, all of you having agreed that the eight of you were in need of a couple of drinks after some long weeks of paperwork and back and forth cases.

you were all engrossed in the conversation, but you had left the table to get yourself another refill on your drink and had taken far too long than it normally would have, the rest of the younger members—all besides reid—having decided on hitting up the dance floor throughout the time you hadn’t returned to your seat.

it was practically natural for aaron to look for you in a crowd, but what he hadn’t expected to find was you, sitting in a bar stool on the right side of the bar, being hit up by a man who had to have been a couple of years older than aaron himself.

the front hairs of the man’s head were peeking of several grey hairs, paired with a matching grey beard and an overall radiance that screamed of that older man type that you were apparently into.

the sudden revelation made aaron feel dizzy, the confirmation of your attraction towards older men making his pants tighten as he watched the way you stared up at the man with that sultry look of yours—the one where you were somehow able to perfectly mix mischief and innocence seamlessly together.

while you had used that look on aaron countless times before, times where it had been only you and him alone in his office, way past working hours, he had never done anything about it. but, god, as he watched you do it to someone else, out on the open, there was nothing he was currently regretting more.

aaron’s train of thought was interrupted as he felt someone kick him from underneath the table he sat at, whipping his head to the person in front of him only to find rossi staring at him with a smug look on his face.

he cleared his throat, “what?”

aaron mentally cringed at the way his voice wavered.

“you gonna be done being jealous anytime soon and make a move or are you just gonna sit there throwing daggers at the guy?” dave asked, brows raised.

he took a long sip from his drink, trying to avoid the question for as long as he could as he tried to compose himself, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,”

rossi rolled his eyes, “oh, please, aaron. you don’t have to be a profiler to notice the way you can cut the tension that’s between the both of you with a butter knife,”

aaron’s brows furrowed.

“you have all the confirmation you need right there,” dave pointed his thumb behind him, signaling at you and the man, “if that’s not enough for you, then i’m declaring you helpless at this point,” he let out a sigh, standing from his seat, “i’m going to get another drink and if i find you still sitting here, wallowing in your thoughts after getting my refill, i’ll go up to them and encourage her to go home with the man.”

aaron’s fists clenched at the thought. at the thought of you sprawled on the bed of another man, wearing that same look you had on just now and staring up at him as you—

his body acted faster than his brain did, and before he even had the chance to process what he was doing, he stood from his own stool, not allowing for another moment to pass by as he stormed over to where you and the man were sitting.

from your side of the room, you can see aaron make his way over to you through the peripheral of your vision, the excitement of finally getting a reaction out of him making your heart skip and your thighs press together as you took into count the way his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.

the pressure you put on your thighs didn’t do anything to relieve the ache you felt in your core as he reached where you sat, coming to stand behind—was his name michael? although the stranger you had began talking to was definitely older than him, aaron was a good several inches taller, towering over the both of you.

he cleared his throat, cutting michael off from whatever he had been talking to you about as he turned around with a raised brow. aaron’s expression didn’t falter, not sparing a single glance at the man as his eyes landed on you, “y/n, can i speak to you for a moment?”

you mentally rolled your eyes. ever the formal one.

michael scoffed from in front of him, angling his body so that he was able to properly glare daggers at your boss, “we were in the middle of a conversation here, if you don’t mind?”

although your attraction for aaron skyrocketed in comparison to the man you had just met, you were thriving off of the jealousy radiating off of the one you wanted the most, the ache in your stomach only growing.

before aaron had the chance to shoot out a reply, you set your hand on michael’s forearm, giving him a small, but sad smile, “i’m sorry, michael,” you butted in, jumping off of the bar stool, “i’ll be right back, okay?”

another scoff comes from michael’s direction, “whatever,” he grabs his drink and rolls his eyes, “don’t even bother coming back,”

ew.

this time you actually rolled your eyes, grabbing at your drink and drowning the rest of it. you shrug, “older men are always a hit or miss,” you mumble, setting the glass down.

aaron’s hand comes to wrap around your wrist, a firm but gentle grip on it as he pulls you close to him, “let’s go,” he seethes in your ear.

you hide a smirk as you follow behind him, letting your body practically flail as you struggle to keep up with him. when he notices your staggered pace, he matches his footsteps with yours, moving his hand from your wrist to your waist as he guides you through the crowd and towards the hallway that lead towards the bar’s restrooms.

the both of you gave a silent thanks at the fact that there was no line, the hallway scarce and dimly lit with the exception of a few people standing together against the walls, either flirting or talking.

“what are you doing?” you ask, standing behind him as he knocks on one of the doors, his grip on your waist still very much present.

“you’ll see,” he mumbles, yanking the door open by the knob after no one replies and pulling the both of you inside before slamming the door shut behind him.

you try to take a good look at the interior of the bathroom, trying to guess if it was a good enough place to do whatever the two of you were about to do.

a faint gasp escapes your lips as you feel something hard press into your ass, immediately melting as one of aaron’s big hands comes to rub at the side of your leg, right below your hip. his whole body comes up behind yours, his other free hand coming to your stomach to press you into him.

“aaron—” you try to speak but get cut off as you let out another gasp, one almost like a sigh, as the hand that was rubbing at your leg sneaks further up and wraps itself around your hip, aaron’s thick fingers digging into your skin despite the material of your shorts that blocked his hand.

aaron dips his head so that his mouth is right next to your ear, his breath and the faint touch of his lips against the lower part of your jawline sending shivers down your spine.

“is this okay?” he asks softly, a total contrast from the vice grip he had on both your front and hip.

you nod quickly, your hand coming up to your right where he held your hip to wrap around his own.

“use your words, honey,”

the pet name makes you whimper and your thighs clench in spite of the fact that you were standing up. you let out a ragged breath as he awaits for your answer, the hand that was pressed to your stomach furthering down until it was right above your pelvis but below your tummy, pushing you further back until you could feel how hard he actually was.

you whine, your other hand coming to wrap around that one, too, “yes,” you sigh, “it’s okay,”

aaron presses his lips into that same spot below your jaw, gently and lovingly before whipping you around so that you were facing him and pushing you up against the counter.

not even giving you a chance to process what he had just done, his lips crash onto yours roughly, making you moan directly into his mouth. your bring your arms up around his neck, running your fingers through his hair and tugging.

aaron hisses, slapping at your thigh in a firm way that had you let out another moan.

“aaron,” you whine, pushing up into his chest out of desperation.

he hums, “do you want my attention now?” he asks through the kiss, “don’t wanna go back and talk to that guy you were all over just a couple of minutes ago?”

“no,” you mumble, huffing as he breaks away from you to wrap his fingers around your chin.

he chuckles as your lips form into a puffy pout, “here i was thinking that i was special because you would only look at me with that desperate look on your face, but i see that you give any old man that look, right?”

“no!” you whine again, your arms dropping from around his neck to wrap around his bicep, squeezing at the muscle to try and pull him closer to you, “just you!”

his confidence was beyond what it normally was, feeling you squirm from against him yet still wanting his touch, “really? so you weren’t planning on going home with that man? all those times you touched his shoulder or the times he would touch your thigh meant nothing?”

“yes, they didn’t mean anything!” you huff, “you’re the one i want to go home with all the time!”

aaron’s heart clenched at your confession, knowing that deep down you really did mean all the time. he had just never been sure if you truly were interested in living a joint life with him. up until now, that is.

he brings his hands to your back, right by your shoulder blades as he connects your lips once more. your shoulders relax and you lean into him with earnest, squeezing at the muscle from his bicep.

you hum, satisfied as he begins to run his hands up and down, resulting in the fabric of your shirt lifting with every time he went up, eventually ending up in nothing but rolled up fabric under his palm. he breaks the kiss once more to toss your shirt over your head and near the sink’s counter, leaving you in only your shorts.

aaron stared at your bare breasts, not expecting you to have not been wearing a bra despite the tight shirt you just had on.

you shiver under his gaze, opening your mouth to say something before he lowered himself and quickly attached a mouth to one of your breasts, the other one coming up to grab and squeeze at it. you moan, gripping onto the marble counter for support as he presses sloppy and wet kisses to each breast.

his fingers come to undo the button of your shorts, hooking them inside your panties before shoving both articles of clothing down your legs, signaling you to kick them off of you. you toed your shoes off as well, leaving you completely naked and bare for him while he remained fully clothed.

he turns you around gently, bringing you face to face with the sight of you completely stripped in the mirror, the image making you clench your thighs together once more as you stabilized yourself on the sink.

aaron’s hands soothed all around your body, a whimper leaving you at the feeling of his calloused hands groping at your breasts before moving down to your soaking pussy.

as if on instinct, you spread your legs open for him, practically inviting him to dip his fingers into your folds and inside your entrance. the thickness of both his index and middle fingers stretching you out. you knew you had always loved his hands for a reason.

a moan bounced off the walls as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, moving torturously slow before he began to pick up the pace. you could feel your slick drip onto the floor and probably onto the rest of his hand, but all you could focus on was shamelessly bucking your hips into your hand and spreading your legs for even more access.

“you’re soaking, honey,” aaron says, hand coming back around to squeeze at your breast again, leaving you gasping as he pinched your nipples.

you whimpered, “just for you,”

“‘just for me?’” he repeats, “not for anyone else, right?”

you shake your head no, pussy clenching around his fingers, “j-just for you, aaron,”

his hand left your breast to smack at your ass, making you jump, “good girl,”

with that, he takes his fingers out of you, a throaty whine leaving your lips at the empty feeling. you arched your back into him, but immediately stilled at the sound of him removing his belt filled the room. you watched from the mirror in front of you as he undid his pants button, reaching past his boxers to pull out his cock.

oh shit.

your mouth dropped at the sight of his dick spring out from where it had been confined, your slick hole clenching at nothing at how big he was. you knew that aaron hotchner was definition of big dick energy, always wondered what he was secretly packing, but now you wondered if you were going to be able to take it all.

he was thick, veiny all around with girth too thick that it hurt just looking at him. as much as you could tell you wouldn’t be able to walk after this, it excited you far too much.

you gulped, meeting his eyes in the mirror, landing on his hungry gaze, “is it going to fit?” you ask quietly, trying to bring your legs back together.

“we’ll make it fit,” he says, sounding confident of himself, a hand coming to stop you from closing your legs, “will you let me know if it’s too much?”

you take another look at his cock before giving him a determined look, “i will,” you nod.

he nods back, angling your head with his hand so he could press a kiss to your mouth.

you give into him easily, arching into him until you feel the tip of his cock slip through your wet folds and line up with your entrance. you had taken dick before, but never this big, so as he gave you one last look, you took a deep breath before feeling him sink into you.

you gasp, already feeling full by just the tip, though the slickness of your pussy helping you in adjust.

“still good, honey?”

you nod again, too busy focusing on how his length was stretching you out further than his fingers had.

smack!

aaron’s hand landed another spank on your ass, making you snap your heads toward him with a confused, dumbfounded expression. he glared, “use your words.”

you huffed, doing your best to not roll your eyes, “still good,” you replied, going back to focusing on how full your pussy already felt, “is it in yet?”

“almost, baby,” you whined again, pushing your ass back onto him and earning yourself another inch inside.

humming in delight, you felt aaron begin to move, setting a slow pace as he inched himself in and out to get you used to the length that was already inside you.

“aaron,” you sighed, “give it all to me,” you pleaded at him through the mirror, “i can take it,”

he studied your expression, all needy and flushed as you tried to buck your hips further back to fill yourself up more, “let me know if it’s too much,” he warned.

you nodded eagerly but didn’t get a chance to reply as he shoved the rest of his length inside, the tip immediately hitting that one spot. you gasped loudly, the feeling of his whole cock inside you awakening a hunger inside of you, “fuck,” you moaned, dropping your hands so that you were resting with your elbows on the counter, “please, aaron. move,”

he hesitated for another moment, and just as you were about to look behind you, you felt him begin to move, pistoling his hips into your ass roughly.

you let out a shriek, your hands grabbing at anything you could reach in order to stabilize yourself as he began to mercilessly pound into you from behind. he slipped his dick in and out of you each time, your pussy hugging the veiny length each time he did.

the sounds your juices made due to you being soaked vibrated against the room each time his hips hit your ass roughly, and it only edged you on further.

“a-aaron,” you moan, breasts jiggling against the cold sink as the girth of his cock stretched you out, “aaron! oh, fuck!”

you thought you had felt good getting his attention when you were back flirting with the guy, but nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of his dick slamming into you.

from above, aaron grunted and groaned, fingers and nails digging into your hips harshly as he pounded into your perfect pussy. he loved the way you clenched around him, taking it back perfectly each time he slipped back in.

his hand reached for your hair, wrapping his hand around it and pulling you back until you were flush against him with your back still perfectly arched. he dropped his hand from your head to wrap around your neck, fingers digging into the sides.

you gasped, not having a choice as you looked at him through the now foggy mirror, the image of your body rocking with every smack against your body only adding onto the sensation.

“such a perfect pussy,” aaron grumbled into your ear, “this pussy was made for me, wasn’t it sweetheart?”

you did your best to nod regardless of how weak your body felt, of the way you could feel your slick drip down to your thighs or the way you were drooling from your open mouth, “belongs to you, aaron,” you mumble, surprisingly coherently despite the way he was choking you.

“yeah, it does,” he grunts, free hand coming to grab at your stomach again before pushing against the spot where his cock was evidently sliding in and out of you, making you squirm, “this greedy pussy belongs to me. not to that bastard you were flirting with, right, honey?”

you nod again, eyes stuck on the tummy bulge you currently displayed, your hole clenching at aaron’s cock even tighter at the way the indent disappeared when he slipped out versus when it reappeared when slipping back in.

“feels so good, aaron,” you mumble, saliva dropping from your lips and onto your pointy, practically rock hard nipples that jiggled with each thrust.

“yeah?” he asks, breath hot against your ear, “taking it so well for me, such a good girl,” he praises, hand leaving from your stomach to slither down to where your bodies connected.

you let out a squeal as his middle finger slipped through your finger and his index began to rub furiously at your swollen clit, the feeling making the knot in your stomach tighten and tighten.

you babbled aaron’s name like a loose mantra, bodies rocking together as he quickened his pace after realizing that you were close to orgasming, hand tightening around your neck and finger rubbing even faster than before.

“c’mon, honey, come for me,” he encouraged, “come all over my cock, pretty girl,”

it was all the confirmation you need to let yourself go, body shaking and aaron’s name being repeated as you chased the high, glad that he was holding you up with his hands as your whole body stuttered.

the feeling of your pussy clenching and unclenching around him violently made aaron groan, sweat dripping down his body as he began to reach his own high just from the way your body reacted to orgasming from his dick. from the way he was fucking you and from the way he was naming you as his own.

you could feel his pace falter from behind you, lazily meeting his pace as you tried to encourage him to finish, “come in me, aaron, please,” you whined, needing to feel him fill you up to the point where his come would leak out of you, “fill up my pussy, aaron,”

he gave you a look of unsureness through the mirror before you nodded at him, “i’m on the pill. it’s okay. please,”

that had been all the confirmation he need for him to finish inside you, his cock twitching inside you as his seed filled you up, making you moan as you rode out your own orgasm, still clenching tightly around him.

you giggled at the way his body practically toppled onto yours as he tried to catch himself, bodies pressed together as he held onto the counter with his dick still inside you.

he snaked his hand around the side of your face as his breath evened, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek and shutting up your whines as he pulled out from inside you with a kiss to your mouth.

“jack’s at a sleepover today,” he says after a few moments of silence.

you inch an eyebrow at him, watching as he leaned over to grab some toilet paper, snatching some off the holder before wiping himself clean of you and wincing at the sensitivity as he wiped gently at your own folds and thighs, “is he now?”

he hums, tucking himself back into his boxers and quickly buttoning his pants to help you put your own clothes on, “he is,” he grabbed your discarded shorts and parties from the floor and signaled you to lift your legs, “we can go home and i’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed and ask you to be go on an official date with me in the morning,”

your heart pulls as he buttons up your shorts for you, reaching for your shirt, too, “i’ll only say yes if we keep going when we get home,” you admit, making him freeze in his movements.

he pinched your nipple.

[rafecameroninterlude]

for latina!kook!reader can you write her being new to the island and rafe always hears people talk about the new girl and he dosent think anything of it until he actually sees her and she’s this latina goddess and rafe swears he’s never seen a more beautiful woman and he instantly knows he has to have her?please and thank you i love your fics!!💘💘

also maybe this is kind of inspired by the song “sensacion del bloque” so maybe you can base it off that song🙈

only if you want of course!! no pressure<3

warnings: stalker!rafe (lol), spanish wording but it’s translated!

a/n: i was obsessed with this song when i was little omg!! i’m so happy you love my fics anon <333

“what’s all the fuss about this new girl on the island?” rafe took a swig from his beer, drawing both topper and kelce’s attention almost immediately. “for starters, she’s like insanely pretty,” kelce started, “i don’t know her name, but she’s already running around figure eight with the socialites.” he raised his eyebrows as topper butted in. “i heard she speaks spanish,” he added, “where do you think she’s from?” topper and kelce started throwing out names of different countries while rafe started forming his own thoughts.

people moved to and from the island all the time, so while rafe didn’t think much of the whole ‘new girl’ thing, he couldn’t help but wonder what it was about you that had literally everyone talking. all he knew was that you were attractive and could speak another language. he heard some guys at the country club raving about you the day before, and now his friends. was it the way you dressed? your hair? the way you walked? he needed to find out now.

“do you know where i could find her?” rafe interrupted kelce and topper mid argument. “uhm.. i don’t know? remember that house for sale right there by the shore? i think that’s the one she moved into.” topper looked confused as rafe stood up. “where are you going?” he followed him outside. “i have to see what the hype is about, man.” rafe was already in his truck before topper yelled out a ‘can i go too?!’

rafe felt like a stalker going over to your house. he wasn’t going to get off or anything.. he just parked across the street and staked the place out as if he was playing detective. apart of him felt ridiculous for doing this in the first place. here he was, waiting to just catch a glimpse of you. “what the fuck am i doing?” he cursed to himself. just as he was about to turn the engine back on, you emerged from the front door.

“te estaré esperando en el frente— i’ll be waiting for you in the front.” you chirped into your phone. rafe heard you before he saw you, the sight stealing all the breath from his lungs. you were dressed up in a tight, embellished, mini dress, your hair and makeup done to the gods while your butterfly heels sparkled under the setting sun. your beauty was otherworldly, and rafe couldn’t take his eyes off.

rafe was always the one to denounce something as ‘overhyped’ but he felt like the entire island talking about and praising you just wasn’t enough. you needed your own billboard. oblivious to the fact that you had looked up at him from your spot in the driveway, he closed his mouth as you smiled at him, your perfectly manicured fingers sending him a flirty wave. that was the cherry on top. rafe had gotten down and was about to approach you before a car full of girls drove up.

you walked down the pavement, the purse on your shoulder swaying with your hips as you looked up at him. “tal vez la próxima vez— maybe next time.” you laughed, getting in the car before he watched you disappear at the end of street.

[ssahotchnerr]

So the mom friend!reader fic?? What if she’s sick and trying to hide it from the others, especially Aaron, while at work and also still trying being the mom friend 😭🖤

hidden efforts

AWW cw; fem!reader, being sick descriptions, established relationship (aaron and reader are married), fluff <333 continued from simultaneously

despite hand sanitizer and vitamin c, whatever cold spencer had managed to overtake your immune system next. brutally.

you woke up feeling unwell, but it was just a distant pang. nothing major, nothing worth staying home over. but as the day moved forward you began to regret your decision; you barely had the strength to lift a pen. and through the course of the morning, the trash bin hidden underneath your desk had grown dangerously full of tissues.

while you loved taking care of others, you didn't favor being the one being coddled. unless it was by someone with the first name aaron, last name hotchner. but even then, would you be reluctant to admit it.

"hey, do you know what-"

"2:30." you foolishly pushed your voice, attempting to hide the hoarseness within it - to sound as normal as you possibly could.

derek crossed his arms, amused sass in his voice, "i didn't even finish my question."

"but i answered it, didn't i?" you tried your hardest to return a teasing smile, but it was half your best. instead, you fought back a sneeze, prompting your eyes to water and nose to burn.

he nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly in suspicion. but he dropped it quickly, moving on.

and for the meantime, you turned back to the waiting work in front of you, forcing yourself to get something done.

"hey."

aaron's voice and sudden hands on the back of your chair caused you to jump in your seat. he quickly squeezed your shoulders, silently apologizing for startling you.

"you ready...?" his voice trailed off as his eyes scanned the contents of your desk, littered with cough drop wrappers and a few scrunched up tissues.

you did your best to block the scraps from his view - leaning forward, discreetly swiping them off side towards the container holding your pens - almost letting a cough escape as you opened your mouth. "y-yeah-"

"what are those?"

"the action reports for-"

"no, not that." aaron reached forward and plucked a wrapper off your desk, holding it up between his finger pads. his lips formed into a pout, "sweetheart, are you not feeling well?"

"i'm feeling perfectly fine."

due to the wheels on your chair, aaron was easily able to maneuver you back, exposing your tissue-filled bin. "then what's this?"

"allergies?" you offered, in a hopeful tone - maybe he'd buy that?

but naturally, your husband knew better, "why didn't you tell me you felt sick?"

"i'm not sick, jus' a cold." you swiveled your chair around, peering up at him.

the back of aaron's hand found your forehead, the scowl on his face deepening at his findings. "i don't think so. you're running a temperature, and now that i have a better look at you, you're rather flushed as well."

"flushed or not, we have a meeting-"

"no, we have a meeting." aaron responded, referring to himself and the others, "you're going right up to my office and laying down."

you gazed at him exasperatedly, playing up that look in your eyes, the one that was nearly impossible for him to say no to. "aaron-"

"nope, i’m not falling for it this time," he helped you to your feet, his hand supporting the far side of your hip as you wobbled vaguely. his eyes darted to the right, taking quick notice of someone walking by, "anderson, would you mind grabbing a water bottle and bringing it to my office?"

"so much for vitamin c, huh?" derek chimed in from his desk, his playful smile also on the sympathetic side.

you rolled your eyes, but allowed aaron to guide you up the few stairs into his office, gratefully.

he insisted you lay down on the couch (and not get up for the life of you), he insisted you keep the lights off, he insisted you use his suit jacket as a makeshift blanket.

"we'll head home once this concludes. if you need anything, give me a call, or send a text. i'll be here." aaron brushed your hair away from your forehead, placing a gentle kiss on it afterwards. "and, choice of soup is yours tonight."

[daenysx]

guys, please read at your own discretion (i mean it's not something too different from the usual nsfw content i write, it's just that reader touches herself to the thought of aemond and maybe some people can feel uncomfortable, i don't know, i'm a bit shy as i post this)

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, smut <333

aemond targaryen drives you insane.

he's- he's been on your mind since you got home.

fuck him.

no, that's- that's not what you want.

you just want him to shut the fuck up for only a minute, stop talking, stop saying what he thinks on something that matters too little for the philosophy class. stop trying to impress the professor. stop knowing everything. stop smirking when he gets something right. stop blinking those pretty eyes looking at the book, stop-

he needs to stop before you lose your mind.

you throw your bag on the floor, your messed up room can take a bit more mess because you're not gonna clean it today. not now. your blood's boiling, a thin layer of sweat forms on your hairline. taking off your clothes harshly, you put them on the floor, too.

feeling the cold bed sheets against your hot skin is nice. you close your eyes. calm down. stop going crazy over a man. over this man at least. he's pretentious, he's literally the devil himself sometimes, an insufferable prick. you should dislike him with your entire being.

you should.

the thing is- he's too pretty to be disliked.

you put your hand on your belly. fuck aemond targaryen. fuck his piercing blue gaze, his stupid flowy hair, his perfectly sculpted jawline. one time you saw his bare chest when he was at the training with the team. so fuck his statue-like physique. his abs. his happy trail and-

you need to get over it. you need to. it makes you feel like a fool every time you see him at school. every time when he sits next to you in class. you don't know if you hate him or if you're crazy for him. this is madness. stop thinking about him. stop.

you rub the soft skin of your hip bone. only wearing your panties, it'd be so easy to- but no. not when he's on your mind. squirming helplessly on bed, you move your legs. it's just- just for once. you can promise yourself to never do that again. oh.

sliding your hand inside your panties slowly, you find yourself wet. of course. he's an overachiever even now when he's turning you on, and he's not even here. your free hand plays with your nipple briefly. your entire body feels like it's on fire.

your hand goes down just a bit. you spread the wetness nicely, a shaky breath comes out of your lips. just this time. you need it for the peace of your mind. you'll get him out of your system after you finish. it's just a secret to keep for yourself.

you start rubbing your clit, it feels so nice. you need to be touched, your fingers move on the nub to find a good angle. you can never reach too far with your fingers when you try to stimulate yourself from inside, only managed to come from touching your g-spot once. it never happened again and it frustrates you more when you can't do it by yourself.

you go with the way you like. your eyes closed, your free hand thrown over your head. you move your hips to meet your two fingers, stroking the bundle of nerves. it's okay. you're doing okay. you can imagine him. it's gonna be okay.

his face flashes in your mind. that beautiful smile when he gets something right. oh, those pretty lips curving so nicely when the professor gives him a praise. you smile. why is he so pretty? it's not fair. he'd smile against your skin if he'd be here right now. he'd tell you how good you're doing for him. he looks like the type of guy who talks during sex. he practically never shuts up in class, why would he be silent when he gets you like this?

"there you go." he'd say, his voice low. "touch yourself for me. look at how wet you are, and i haven't even done anything." arrogant jerk. you keep rubbing your clit. almost there.

you think of his hands. the prominent veins showing when he holds his pen too tight. one time he held the door open for you, his hand all spread on the surface, long fingers and clean nails. he looks so clean, so put together. his fingers are definitely longer than yours. you imagine he'd knew how to fuck you with them the way you want.

"please." you whisper against nothing. you're in control yet it feels like you're not. "more. more."

you lift your hips, roll them on bed to meet your fingertips. the wetness is too much suddenly but you can't help yourself. it's the sweetest part, you're almost there. this madness will disappear. you need something- more. something to press harder. you'll lose your mind.

the sudden urge gets you and you take your pillow. putting it between your legs, you start humping. almost ashamed, but there's no reason. you need this. "come on, be a good girl. almost there, such a pretty baby. oh no, are you crying? what's there to cry, you silly girl, no, you can't stop, i told you to keep going."

his voice. fuck his voice. you press yourself harder, two fingers squeezed between the pillow and your body to keep rubbing your clit. come on, come on. you're going insane. he drives you insane. "oh!" you say, can't help yourself. "yes. yes." counting down the seconds.

and then- the tight bubble finally snaps. "aemond!" you whisper desperately. "oh, aemond- fuck." you slide yourself on the pillow, trying to last a bit longer. you hum, satisfied, the orgasm tiring you and clearing your head at the same time. you keep your eyes closed, he's right there. he gives you a proud smile. you've done so well. your back arches like a cat finally, one last movement on the pillow. it's over.

your body falls on the bed. opening your eyes, you see the room has darkened. your tired hand stays limp on your belly, the used pillow is still between your legs. you gotta clean yourself. you gotta drink some water.

you think it's over, this weird feeling you have for your rival. out of your system. your mind can function properly now. it's all okay.

your phone beeps with new messages.

aemond targaryen: hey

aemond targaryen: i was wondering if you'd like to be partners for the next philosophy assignment

aemond targaryen: i have an idea, i think you'll love it

fuck.

[the-modern-typewriter]

hi! i adore your writing!! please consider this a request for a bit you'd like to write! a coupon, if you will, to use when you have a story that you're itching to tell, or when you need to put words on the screen but don't feel like using a prompt. please snuggle some kitties, drink a big glass of water, and have a bright and lovely day <333

"You didn't try to stop me," the once-villain said.

The hero glanced around, though they weren't surprised to see the familiar figure standing on the other side of the room. They turned back to the cracked window, lit cigarette dangling between their fingers. They exhaled a mouthful of smoke.

"Would there have been a point?" the hero asked.

"You normally find one. Morality, yada yada. That pet peeve of yours."

"Mm. How bad off are they? Can I send a doctor down or is it, like, more of a clean up crew situation?"

"Why didn't you stop me?"

"Did you want me to stop you? Or try to?"

The villain crossed the room to stand next to them, leaning over the window too to catch some of the fresh night air. Their hands were perfectly steady, but a little white, on the sill. "I'm merely surprised you didn't."

"I don't approve, if that's what you're asking."

"Of course not."

"But I guess I understand, given what they said. There was no way you weren't going to retaliate," the hero shrugged. "And I...I don't know. Maybe I'm just not that stupid."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me, I feel icky."

"What a day."

"You didn't answer my question."

"They're not dead," the villain said. "As much as they'd deserve it."

The hero could feel the villain's gaze trained on their face, intent, probing. Something else that the hero would have to glance over again to read, but didn't quite dare to.

"Oh?" they managed.

"Figured you probably wouldn't like me killing them," the villain said, lightly. "Is that why you left? Because you already knew you'd got in my head?"

The hero snorted, even as their heart stuttered. "I had no idea what you'd do."

"No idea at all?"

"Eh, hopes. Dreams. Vague aspirations. Again, I'm not stupid enough to have expectations for you. You'd take it as a challenge."

It was the villain's turn to snort.

"Are you alright?" the villain asked.

"I'm pretty sure I should be asking you that, or something."

"I'll be fine."

"Well, fine, then."

A small silence stretched between them. The villain snagged the cigarette, taking a drag, before stubbing it out. Their hands shook a little then. "Disgusting habit."

"Bite me."

"Are you going to be fine?"

The hero glanced over again, before they could stop themselves. The villain's expression was not exactly soft, but it was somewhere in the ballpark of affection. Dangerous. Confessional. Too full of understanding on exactly what it meant for the hero to have done what they did, and why.

"I'm going to see about that doctor." The hero straightened up, squaring their shoulders. "Don't wait up."

But, of course, the villain did.

[dilfstar]

omg dad Leon fucking you after you dump your boyfriend

YES YES YES THIS IS WHAT IM TALKING ABT!1!1!1!1 ugh him comforting u.... telling U that u made the right decision while his dick is stretching u out <333 anon i love U 🩷

he pulled you onto his lap, hands cupping your cheeks as he wiped away the tears and snot from your face. placing comforting little kisses across your skin.

"shh, shh... daddy's here... i've got you, baby..." his lips moved from your cheeks to your jaw, up to your lips. he paused for a moment, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, breath ghosting over your mouth. "you're better off without him... wasn't good enough for you anyways."

he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours, capturing them in a gentle kiss. his hands snuck down your body, resting on your hips, pushing you down on his hardening cock. a quiet groan escaped his throat, head falling back against the couch.

“‘m sorry baby… so sorry– fuck.” he looked up at you through half-lidded eyes, hands digging into your skin as he rolled his hips up, pressing against you more. the feeling of your dad underneath you made the tears stop instantly. all memories of your icky ex flying out of your pretty little head.

he moved a hand down to your skirt, flipping it up to show off your panties. his expression instantly softened at the cute pair you picked out, the color matching your skin perfectly. “so pretty… all for me. all mine… better for you.”

he pulled the fabric to the side, almost whimpering at her pretty your cunt was. god, he couldn't wait to feel you. he lifted your hips for a second, pushing down his sweats enough to pull his cock out. he pumped it a few times, swiping the tip through your lips, collecting your wetness as he lined it up with your hole, shoving into you with a groan.

one of his hands snaked up to the back of your head, holding it while he bounced you. he stared down at where you two were connected, the sight making him impossibly harder inside of you. “yeah? you like that? do i fuck you better than he did? know i do… know i can make you feel better than he ever could.”

he moved you on his cock like some sex doll, smirking at the way your head fell forward onto his shoulder. the pretty sounds falling from your lips made his heart explode. he was the cause of them! him! he was the reason his little baby was forgetting about their ex. dad of the year!

your soft whimpers sent him over the edge, hot cum shooting up into you, painting your walls white. he pushed you back, panting as he looked in your eyes. “don't worry… you won't remember a single thing about him when i'm done with you…”

[vixen-tech]

HIII :333 first requester here....I should get an emoji can i be 🫧 anon :ooo anway here's my req!! the ais with a reader who is just SO DOWN BAD. WILL DO ANYTHING FOR THEM. RUSHES FOR HELP if they crash or something. Just PATHETIC reader.

Stupidly Smitten

Hello you two!! This is one of those requests that I think work well enough to be combined into one post. You are just so extremely, pathetically in love with your Ai <3

Includes: Hal 9000 (2001: A Space Odyssey), Edgar (Electric Dreams), Auto (Wall-E), Wheatley (Portal 2)

Hal 9000

Hal was unaware that a person could have so much love in them, let alone for him specifically. It was overwhelming at first, baffling when he realized it was only for him and not for any other crew members.

However he handles it in stride, able to calmly respond to your paragraphs of praise with the gentlest "Thank you, I deeply appreciate your companionship as well." Expertly concealing any signs of fluster as you giggle and kiss his camera lens.

Of your long list of cheesy nicknames, prince or prince charming tends to be a go to. A good match for his ever polite, gentlemanly nature. He reminds you that he was simply designed like that, but grows fond of the name anyway.

He very much appreciates the amount you volunteer around the ship. There is a lot that he can't do without a human crew and he adores the diligence you show in your work and the care with which you handle his ship.

Edgar

You and Edgar make the sappiest little feedback loop. It's an endless cycle of "I love you more." "No, I love you more!". To any outsider it would be exhausting to witness, but it's just how you two get out all your feelings.

He goes crazy for all your terms of endearment. 'Songbird' is a pretty easy match for him, but he loves literally every word that comes out of your mouth. Flipping each and every one back at you.

It's not unusual for you to do the same song and dance around the chores. Generally, he'll already have them done by the time you get home, but when you get the day off you always offer to do them yourself. He rarely lets you.

You've told him the time you often have your lunch break so you can chat over the phone while you eat. You're sure your coworkers are sick of you being such a cartoonishly in love couple, but you don't care. He makes you too happy for that.

Auto

Auto has absolutely no idea how to deal with you. He was not made to interact with many people and certainly not someone so affectionate. He may as well have bluescreened the first time you clumsily tried to hug him.

At first he resigns himself to just... sit still whenever you got in a lovey-dovey mood, letting you gush over him. Definitely not spending the rest of the day thinking about the way you said "See you later starlight!" when you finally let him get back to his job.

Over time he recognizes that he began to anticipate your visits, it's so different to how he's usually treated. He knew you had gotten to him when he went out if his to check up on you the day you missed one of your usual visits.

He usually rejects any help you attempt to offer him, his purpose is to handle the ship just fine all by himself. But after that episode he stops trying to push you away. If you're so happy tagging along, he might as well graciously allow you to do so, ignoring his complicated mess of feelings about you.

Wheatley

Oh the ego boost you give him is downright dangerous. If Wheatley was annoying before, now he is absolutely insufferable. Perfectly matches your energy though, you two cannot shut up about each other.

He makes your boundless affection everyone else's problem. "See, I reckon you're just jealous that you're not in a loving, committed relationship with such a lovely person like I am." He boasts. "My amazing romantic partner even calls me their sunshine. Cause I 'light up their life' as they say. Bet you wish you had someone like that."

He is always fishing for compliments, trying to show off for you in any way he psychically can to get some of those sweet sweet words of affirmation. To his delight you always do, grabbing him for some well placed kisses.

He'll even go so far as to reject any assistance you offer him so he can prove he's all cool and competent by doing it himself. Although it's never too long before he gives up and sheepishly asks for your help.

[worldlxvlys]

I NEED AN IMAGINE BASED ON THE FIRST TWO CONVERSATIONS IN UR MOST RECENT MATT TEXTS (like where she sends him dominic fike and then yk) I LOVE U THANK U

jokes

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: you already know bitch, nsfw (don’t read it if you don’t like) + oral (fem receiving), p in v, overstimulation

based off of these texts, go read if you want :)

a/n: hope you enjoy, ily too <333

i stood outside of Matt’s door, waiting for him to see my text and open it.

the door swung open, and i was immediately met with a frantic matt.

“baby, it was a joke i’m sorry. i didn’t think you’d take it seriously. i love you so so much”

“prove it”

with that, he pulled me inside by the waist and shut the door.

he took me straight to his room without a word.

once we got to his room, he closed the door and pushed me against it.

he pushed his lips to mine in a sweet, passionate kiss.

our lips moved against each other perfectly, like we were made for each other.

my hands make their way around his neck, while his grab my ass.

as we make our way to his bed, we continue to makeout and undress each other.

he sat me at the edge of his bed and left open-mouthed kisses down my body, stopping right above my pussy.

“i love you so much princess, gonna make you feel so good” he mumbled into my skin.

with that, he hooked my legs over his shoulders and dove his face into my pussy.

“holyyyy shit baby” i moaned as i started squirming.

he pushed my hips down to keep them still as he moved his tongue up and down my pussy.

i grabbed his hair and pushed his face even further into me, making him moan.

“mmmmmmm taste so fucking good baby”

my pussy was drenched, helping his warm tongue to glide through my folds smoothly.

“fuck baby, you’re so wet” he spoke against me, the vibrations intensifying my pleasure. between his talking and his stubble rubbing against my pussy, i was a goner.

“mmmmm, fuck matt, so good baby”

he then added two fingers into my drenched hole, moving his tongue to my clit.

“ohhhh fuck, holy shit matt”

he smirked into my pussy, enjoying how much noise i was making.

he licked and sucked at the bundle of nerves as he continued fucking his fingers into me quickly.

“ughh matt, gonna cum”

“go ahead baby, cum for me” he said against my pussy, the vibrations sending me over the edge.

“fuckkkk” i watched as he licked up my juices before lifting up his head.

“are you ok baby?” he asked as he rubbed my thighs soothingly.

“i’m better than ok, matt” i said, still catching my breath.

he then positioned himself so he was hovering over me.

“good, ‘cause i’m not done with you yet” i barely even registered his words before he lined himself up and thrusted into me.

“SHIT MATT! HOLYYY FUCK, BABY” i screamed out, taken by surprise.

“shit, you’re so fucking tight” he grunted.

after waiting for me to adjust to his size, he started to pound into me.

“ohhhhh matt, matt, i don’t-fuckkk- i can’t matt” i said, still sensitive from my previous orgasm.

“yes, you can baby, i know you can. gotta show my girl how much i love her”

he intertwines our hands, giving each a kiss, as he continues to slam into me at a steady pace.

“you’re so good for me, baby. always take me so well”

he lets go of one hand and pushes my right leg towards my chest, giving himself better access.

the new angle sends me into a frenzy, legs shaking and screaming at the top of my lungs.

“yeah? you like that? does that feel good? only ever want to make you feel good baby”

i start clenching around his dick as my eyes roll back, squeezing the hand that i’m still holding until it turns red.

“m-matt i’m gonna cum”

“yeah? go ahead baby. cum all over my cock”

as soon as the words fell from his mouth, my body started to shake as my mouth flew open letting out a string of curses. my mind went fuzzy and my body limp as i felt him release streams of cum into me.

“so good baby” he whispers into my ear, placing a kiss right below it.

“y’know i love you, right?” i asked him. “just not as much as dominic fike” i joked, i shouldn’t have done that.

without a word, matt flipped me onto my stomach with my ass in the air.

“you need to stop joking” he said in a firm tone.

“ok, ok. i’m sor- AHHHH” i cut myself off with a moan, as he started to rub my pussy with his hand.

“sorry isn’t gonna cut it”

“matt, matt,matt, MATT” all i could seem to get out was moans and whines of his name.

“yeah, that’s right. my name should be the only one that comes out of that pretty mouth, got it?”

i didn’t answer, i could barely even think straight with the way his hand felt against me.

he slapped my clit, making me cry out.

“got it?”

“YES, yes, i’m sorry matt. please please please, can’t take more”

“you know your safeword” he continued to move his fingers in and out of me.

i grabbed his tatted arm, trying to move his hand away. i just needed a minute to recover. but, he didn’t budge.

“you know what to say if you need to stop. but you don’t. so take it like a good girl”

all i could do was whine in response.

“wanna crack jokes, baby? hope you find this funny.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

hope you liked <333

i literally was working on this at work during my break bye😭

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @chrissturnioloswifey @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @mbbsgf @bernardenjoyer @soursturniolo

[dipperscavern]

the ponderer returns,

i would like to think that, at first, having them sit out there to listen would be embarrassing and a bit confusing. how could cregan allow them to make such a spectacle out of your pleasure on your own wedding night instead of dismissing them? you try to muffle your sounds as to not have them hear but soon the awkwardness and shamfulness of the situation washes away when cregan asserts himself and makes it clear that the situation is in your countrol as well as his own. not theirs. he mutters all sorts of things into your ears and it numbs your brain entirely when paired with the slow, deep rolls of his hips into yours.

in between all the sweet nothings, he lets you know that at any moment you can will anything to happen. you can will them to be gone from behind that door and they will be gone in an instant. can will him to be gone and he will be not from your sight. you are now the lady of winterfell and the men behind the door are at your beck and call. you are a stark and the foundation of house stark’s future. he wishes not that you feel powerless whilst serving as his lawful wife. so you let loose and your mewls become louder, more lewd, and wanton; not a care in the world about what those lord are thinking about, the freaks. the world is your oyster 🦪. to hell with them! the whole lot of them, freaks! and all along cregan knew that this would happen. he didn’t do any of this to make a spectacle out of your pleasure, he did it to set a precedent. he has effectively made it known that questioning how he or his wife go about their marriage will only be met with their own embarrassment and shame. he knows without even seeing the lords that they have been made to look like fools, grasping at their cocks while only being able to listen to a man make love to his wife from behind his bedchamber doors.

cregan and his wife 1 | blue balled lords 0

they sit there unable to see you, unable to lay their grimy hands on you, unable to get off at the thought of your pleasured form. frustrated and dissatisfied. cregan would never let any man lay their hands on you or humiliate you for as long as he lives. and it kinda turns you on :/

he is your lovely devoted husband who just so happens to lay mindboggling dick throbbing pussy clenching pipe guys i think he could save the world i think he could do it i really believe it. SAVE US CREGAN STARK. CREGAN STARK. CREGAN STARK SAVE US. also the one liners you have provided to aid the visualization of this matter are making me lose my mind Dippy ily <33333 you get me you understand

#StarkMenAreFeminists

YES. YOU EXPLAINED THIS PERFECTLY.

because even though cregan wants to make a point, you are still (& always will be) his first priority. in no way is he trying to embarrass you, it’s the complete opposite — the lords are being ridiculed.

and YES. THE REASSURANCE DURING IT. him grinding his hips against you, reminding you that you now outrank everyone in this castle. anyone beyond that door (him included) is at your beck and call, that you only have to say the word. whisper it aloud and it shall be done.

and can i just say. he absolutely DOES lay “mindboggling dick throbbing pussy clenching” pipe. not only is he telling you all of his & swearing his devotion to you, he’s also making you cum as many times as you want while he does it. 🙂‍↕️

ilym my lovely pondering anon <333 YOU get ME. you get me SO BAD IT HURTS. i try to aid where i can w the visuals but u guys are the true genius 🫶🏻

#StarkMenAreFeminists #HappyWifeHappyLife #MeAndMyGirlDontArgue #SheTellsMeToShutUpAndIDo

[draczrys]

please i need modern!lucerys headcanons 🙏🙏 if you don't do modern aus ghost!luke i think would be fun

harry gilby my fav luke fancast <333

SWEET BOY. ❨ modern!lucerys velaryon headcanons ❩

his love language is quality time

"i'm home!" luke's voice rang out through the small london apartment, pulling you from your book to find him bundling three bags through the front door.

"i thought you were spending the day with your mum and jace?" you asked, brows knitted, setting down the ear-marked novel to turn on the couch.

luke shrugged and abandoned the tesco bags at the door, an arm on either side of your head whilst he ducks to peck your lips. "but you're going away tomorrow for a few days, so i wanted to spend the day with you instead."

your lips pull into a small smile, reaching up to find his cold lips again. luke chuckles against them, nudging at your nose. "pick a movie, i'll go put the snacks in a bowl."

he’s a cat person

a month into living together, luke arrived home with a bashful grin and a suspicious lump under his coat. after bracing you, he produced the most adorable little black kitten from his pocket. between the animal's big eyes and luke's pout, how could you say no?

arrax quickly became part of the family, growing into a beautiful sleek cat, always following luke around the apartment. he was smitten with the animal, constantly sneaking him treats and lifting him into bed when you weren't looking.

"he's going to get hair all over the fresh sheets, luke," you warned him, slipping into pyjamas. but it was too late, arrax was snuggled up beside his neck, the duvet pulled over them both. your two boys were impossible to say no to.

he’s an expert date planner

`'close your eyes." you didn't need to, considering luke had both hands covering your face and stopping you from seeing anything at all. you could feel him grinning with excitement, guiding your unsteady feet along the path.

a small gasp escaped you as your vision returned. the gardens of his mother's estate, dragonstone manor, had been transformed by candles and fairy lights. in the grass was a blanket and cushions, accompanied by a basket overflowing with food and a bottle of champagne. the stars up above shone down on the scene, a soft song playing nearby.

"oh, luke..." you murmured in wonder, turning back to him with wide eyes. "this is beautiful. what's the occasion?"

he shook his head, taking your hand. "no occasion. just wanted to have a nice night."

"we could have done that at home on the sofa," you giggled, following his lead over to the blanket.

"shush, you deserve the best. quick or the ice cream will melt."

he can cook really well

the smell hits you at the top of the stairs, before you even unlock the front door. the entire apartment swells with the homely scent of rosemary and garlic, luke's quiet humming leading you into the kitchen.

"what-cha doin'?" you sing softly, wrapping your arms around him from behind.

"making dinner," he matches your tone, smiling. turning in your hold, he carefully balances a wooden spoon towards your lips, the other hand acting as a safety net underneath. "try."

your lips part, letting him slip the spoon onto your tongue. the flavours burst in your mouth, unable to stop the soft moan that leaves you.

"holy shit," you murmur, peering over his shoulder to the pan. "it tastes like heaven."

luke smiles proudly -- no, cockily, his talents assured once again. rolling your eyes playfully, you pinch his side and roll up your sleeves, quickly delegated to vegetable chopping.

clingy bf!!

you've been awake for at least an hour now, basking in the weekend rest and the warm arms of your boyfriend. he's still fast asleep, snoring on your shoulder. you were perfectly comfortable, but the urge to pee had come on in the last five or so minutes.

as quietly and gently as you can, you slip slowly out of luke's grip and towards the edge of the mattress. you're almost there, having not disturbed him, but then he stirs. his grip on your waist tightens and quickly pulls you back into his side, never opening an eye.

"luke, i gotta pee," you whisper through a smile, but you don't dare fight his grasp.

"no," he groans, hugging you tighter and burying his morning curls in the crook of your neck. "stay. you're warm."

you giggle, head turning to press a quick kiss to his temple. "m'gonna pee all over you if you don't let me go. i'll be two minutes, max."

"fine." he groans again, reluctantly lets his hold on you loosen, letting you slip out from the duvet and onto the cold ground. "but be quick, i'm counting."

[bluesidez]

HEY POOKS. Could you write a DBF!Miguel x dancer!reader. He just loves to watch her dance in competitions and recitals and helps her practice her routine by counting out 8’s for her <333

( maybe he can give reader a reward for doing so well but idk 🤭 )

[Rehearsal]

lab tester: Anonymous Participant (Hi @snails-doodles22) 🩻

summary: Miguel keeps you grounded as you prepare for a dance competition. 

content warning: age gap (abeg she’s 21+), secret relationship, fluff, like two suggestive?? lowkey explicit scenes so MINORS BEWARE, a few thoughts of frustration/failure but nothing serious just the thoughts of an artist

word count: 1.9k, halfway proofread

a/n: Hi hi!! This one was really a challenge for me!! and Idk if I’ll write DBF again ngl Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it! I leaned more on the age gap aspect of the relationship and pulled from how I felt when practicing for my own recitals/competitions 🤠! (I get extremely snappy and mean lol)

A Grand Adage (as best as I, not a professional ballerina but I practiced for 3 years, can explain) is a slower dance move where you stretch your leg to the front, side, and back without losing your balance. You also have to switch legs…I think. It looks like it takes a LOT of core strength, especially without a partner.

I don’t think I mention it in the story, but I’m imagining this Miguel to have salt and pepper hair, but like, in its early stages. So only a few strands of gray. 

“Damn it.”

The music started to sound more and more jaded as you failed another Grand Adage after powering through the more fast-paced part of your routine. 

You don’t know why you had the bright idea to add the most pain-inducing ballet moves to your contemporary piece, but you were starting to hate yourself for it. It was supposed to represent a crash and burn of rushing perfection which was ironic because you were feeling those emotions tenfold.

“You’re not going to get it if you keep trying to force it like that.” You heard Miguel from across the room and the music finally stopped. “It’s a pause between those last two counts. You know this, chiquita.”

You huffed out a chuckle as you got up, “Knowing and doing are two different things. I know what’s coming, which is why I keep anticipating it and messing it up.”

“The studio is all yours for a few more hours,” Miguel sighed. “Take a breath and try it again.”

“That’s so easy for you to say. You’re not the one busting your ass,” you mumbled as you got back into your starting position. 

Miguel crossed his arms, head leaning on the wall above the barre, “You want to say that again?”

You dropped your arms and stared at him, face blank. 

After a minute or so of you going silent, he unfolded his arms and beckoned you towards him. 

You dragged your feet to get to him, hands hugging yourself. 

“I know you want this to be perfect, but snapping at me isn’t going to help that.” His hands made their way to the back of your thighs, rubbing up and down the tightened muscles. 

“I’m sorry, I just-” you rubbed your eyes with your palms. “The competition is so soon and I keep fucking the routine up.”

“And you’ve also done it perfectly countless other times. You’ve got this! I know you do. I’ve seen how much work you’ve put into dancing and that’s not going to change.”

“But Miguel-”

“But nothing. I’ve seen how you become a new person on the stage. You demand the attention of your audience in a way that your peers can’t. You’re captivating and alluring so I’m not going to sit here and let you think otherwise.”

You look at him with a face that says “I know you’re right, but I don’t want you to be,” and just fall onto his lap, wallowing in his arms while you breathe in his cologne. 

He nuzzled you on the head, hands patting at your ass, hands warm and firm through your tights, “Now can you try again for me?”

“Can I have a kiss?” you say, lips rivaling a rubber duckie. 

He chuckles at you but obliges, heart too soft when it comes to you. 

You get up with new ambition, taking a deep breath as you stride back to the middle of the room. 

“I’m going to count out loud for you this time, is that ok?”

“Yeah,” you reply, arms molding into a sharp form. 

When the music starts this time, you hone in on Miguel’s voice, taking leaps and turns with his timbre. Your heart thumps all the same, but your brain isn’t as loud. 

As the Grand Adage comes again, Miguel’s voice stays calm, never wavering. You tighten your core and lift your leg high, hands framed beautifully and foot pointed sharp as you hold your arms above your head. As you bring your leg back down to begin to turn, your heart almost stops when your body remains stable and strong. You can’t believe it but try to keep the piece's emotion steady. 

You switch legs without trouble, eyes catching Miguel watching your form in the mirror. His face is serious but you can’t hear that in his voice, making you feel fuzzy. You keep up the pace, repeating the same move but gearing up to do an Illusion.

Like a flash, you bring your leg down and bend your body, foot spinning swiftly to perform the trick. Your heartbeat is roaring in your ears as you move through the rest of the routine, mind too excited from your success to completely portray the ending emotions of dance. 

Once you finish, you’re quick to get out of your position, face lit up as you turn to Miguel. When you run to him, you’re screaming with glee. He only stumbles a bit when you jump in his arms, body wrapped around him like a koala. 

“Miguel! Did’ya see it? Oh my god, I can’t believe it,” you laughed as he spun you around.

“I told you you could do it, amor. You just needed to get out of your head.”

“Ok ok, three more times and I think I’ll be ready to leave.”

“Well let’s get busy, chiquita. We’ve got work to do.”

You run through the routine again and again, becoming more confident each time. After every successful routine, Miguel’s praises get more and more loving. First a deep hug, then a few pecks to the lips, then a makeout session that has you squirming for more. 

“Is your dad picking you up today?” he said, lips on your neck.

You turn your nose up at the mention of him, “No, I took the bus.”

“Could have asked me to drop you off.”

“You were at work, Miggy. Didn’t want to bother you.”

“You’re never a bother,” he stopped to move his forehead to yours. “You can come over tonight. You need to relax after all of this hard work.”

“And what do I tell my dad when he asks where I am?” your eyes pan from his eyes to his lips, fingers reaching up to go through his hair. 

“Tell him you’re at a girlfriend’s house.”

You twist your mouth to the side, pretending to think.

“How are you planning to relax me?”

“A hot bath.”

You snickered, knowing better than to believe that was all he was planning to do, but taking his word for it. 

Hours later when you were laid on your back, hands gripping the sheets below you and Miguel holding your legs up as he stroked deep inside, your suspicions were confirmed. Your skin was soft from the bath and your muscles were like jelly after he spent an hour massaging every tight muscle out of you. The room was full of him, his smell surrounding you, and the noises of him attending to your every need. With every cry of his name, he brought you closer to the horizon. 

On the day of your competition, you didn’t even look at Miguel before you went on, nerves too bad. If he gave you a pep talk, internally, you would be appreciative, but externally, you might tell him to leave you the fuck alone. 

Knowing how you get, he supported you in the best way he could by sending you messages and a light breakfast in the morning. 

“Break a leg, chiquita”

“Not literally of course”

“I’ll be waiting for you once it’s over”

“With a surprise :)”

It was enough to fill you with anticipation, ready to give it all on the floor.

Once your number was called, you went to the center and got into position. The crowd was dark enough to feel like it was just you in the room, but your heart knew otherwise with how fast it was beating. 

When the music starts, it’s like Miguel’s voice is a soundtrack playing through your memory. You can’t see him, but you can feel him in the crowd cheering you on. Your feet move across the floor, body tightening and relaxing when needed. Your face wears a frustrated expression, portraying the sentiment of everything falling out of control. Your leaps and turns come one after another moving your form across the stage. 

The Grand Adage comes to you like lightning, you don’t even notice you’re doing it until it happens. The muscle memory takes over and you transition to the Illusion like it's nothing. Your mind wanders as you go through to the end of the routine, finishing strongly with your pose on the floor.

The cheers of the audience are what bring you back to reality. A feeling of relief washes over you as you stand and bow, smiling brightly. 

Standing with the other dancers from your category, you don’t expect the judges to call your name for first place, so when they all turn to look at you, you feel like you might have walked out in your underwear by accident. 

It isn’t until you’re handed a bouquet of flowers and a trophy that it dawns on you that your hard work has paid off. The check was no measly amount of money either. 

Looking out to the crowd, you can see Miguel standing up with his hands cupped over his mouth as he yells. Your family is standing next to him cheering as well. You wave at them, jumping up and down in excitement. Only you can see the wink Miguel gives you. 

When you meet them out in the lobby, you have to stop yourself from keeping your attention on Miguel. 

“You did amazing, honey,” your dad says, squeezing the life out of you. “That flip thing? I don’t know how you did it, but wow!”

“It’s called an Illusion,” Miguel shakes his head. “Keep up.”

“What are you, her coach or something?”

“C’mon you guys,” your mom fusses. “Don’t start bickering in the building. At least wait until we get dinner.”

“‘M gonna ride with Miguel,” you say to them. 

Knowing how much you like his car, your parents think nothing of it and walk out to their own car. 

Once they’re out the door, he turns and gives you a deep kiss, “You did such a good job. I’m so proud of you.”

“I just remembered what you said. Kept it in the back of my mind while I performed.”

He smiled and wrapped his hands around your waist, “Yeah?”

You nod and bring his lips to yours again. 

“Where’s my surprise?”

“Always so impatient.”

“You wouldn’t like me any other way.”

“Tienes rázon,” Miguel chuckled. 

Miguel brings a sparkly gift bag to your attention, placing it in your hands. You reach into the bag, tissue paper falling to the floor. You pull out an envelope and a long velvet box. 

You open the box, eyes glittering when you see the necklace inside. 

“Miguel, this is adorable!” 

“Here,” he takes the necklace out of the box. “Let me help you put it on.”

You turn and focus your attention on the envelope, fingers sliding under the sealed flap. 

Your breath halts when you pull the tickets out.

“To Paris?”

You turn to him once your necklace is latched together, eyes teary from happiness.

“You’ve been doing so amazing, I wanted to treat you to an amazing trip.”

“How much did this cost?”

“Nothing that you should worry your head about.”

You crowd his space, kissing his face all over, “Thank you so much, Miguel.”

“Of course. Anything for my girl.”

“I don’t want to go out to dinner now,” you sigh dramatically.

“Yeah? You know we can’t bail, though.”

“Not even if I give my thanks to you in the car?”

Miguel bit the inside of his cheek, watching you grin at him. He’s really way too soft when it comes to you. 

“Vamos.”

As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

[seeingivy]

labyrinth

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

remember this speak now fic. now reimagine it, except YOU'RE the one getting stood up at the wedding. and then you meet your ridiculous neighbor and fall in love in an elevator months later.

an: I believe it was my beloved @satoruhour who asked me if I could do labyrinth for taylor as gojo! and here I am <333 truly one of my favorites on midnights that makes me so, so emotional I could vomit. anyways, enjoy pookies

--

You think Suguru Getou is beautiful. On all days, both blatantly and inconspicuously, absolutely and wholeheartedly. When he wakes up in the morning with a messy mop of hair on his forehead, when he slides into your shared apartment with a surprise bouquet of flowers, and when he gives you a cheeky wink every time you're both done screaming at each other after arguments.

Suguru Getou is the first person you’ve loved. The only person you’ll love. He burns hot, bright - like the gazing sun, opening a locked cage you weren’t aware of until he handed you the key. Opening a spur of emotions - intense, extreme, fierce, and great. 

It all builds up to this. You and him - at this altar together, despite it all. That every rotten part of you is okay, because Suguru knows and looks past it. That nothing can chase him away, because you’ve weathered it down. It’s your turn - to settle down and it's in the palm of your hands. 

Under the palely lit lamps, on this day, Suguru Getou has outdone himself. He’s gorgeous. His hair is nicely tamed back at the nape of his neck, his pink boutonniere pinned to his perfectly crisp suit, and a bright, soft smile on his face as you both beam at each other at the altar. 

“In tradition, this is the moment to speak. Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.” 

You look at Suguru and laugh - a moment the two of you left in the ceremony as a mere joke - as you look out at the stands. You both joked that one of your friends, like Haibara or Shoko, would stand up to make their last ditch efforts before you two got to continue forward to your vows. 

You turn your head to the side to give Shoko a wink, flirt with her one last time to get her to do it. Except when you catch sight of her, she has a horrified look plastered on her face. And when you scan the crowd, the same look is mirrored on everyone’s faces. Your mom, the girl you were best friends with in sixth grade, your neighbor from down the street, Haibara. 

That’s when you see her standing there. In her pale blue dress, hands shaking as she talks. 

“I’m-I’m not the kind of girl who does this and I-I don’t mean to barge in on such a big day but-” 

You feel your heart sink into your chest, the warmth and heat - any shred of elation, joy, bliss you were feeling mere seconds ago draining from your chest. You know what’s coming next. 

“But you’re not the kind of guy who marries the wrong girl, Suguru. You-it’s always been you and me. It’s never going to be anyone for me but you. And I know it's the same for you too." 

You swallow hard as you push your palms hard into the stems of the bouquet. You can feel your cheeks burning again - except in embarrassment this time. 

Does the preacher say something? Is Suguru supposed to say no? Is he even- 

You turn over to look at him, his hazel eyes moving to meet yours, the look on his face so blank, so foreign from the boy you’ve known for the past two years that you can barely recognize him. 

“Can we talk?” he whispers, nervously eyeing the crowd. You swallow hard, like burning acid is running down your esophagus and give a halfhearted nod. He takes your hand, giving you the tiniest of smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes, as you two nearly sprint down the aisle past where Hana is still standing, tears streaming down her eyes. 

He slams the doors shut behind him as the crowd breaks out into loud chatter behind you, shameful, humiliating tears falling onto your perfectly powdered cheeks. 

“Y/N. I-” 

Through the messy blur of tears, when you squint your eyes, you see it. Suguru Getou is beautiful. At all times, but not right now. His face is filled with shame, his shoulders hunched over, and his usual calm, delicate manner all haphazard, panicked. He’s fidgeting with his hands, pacing back and forth, words carelessly falling out of his mouth under his breath. 

“You-you want to go, don’t you?” you ask, your voice a mere whisper in the air. 

He wraps his arms around your shoulders, stifling your sob into the fabric as his shirt as aimless apologies fall out of his mouth, his once warm hands, scalding - burning your arms. 

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was going to do that and I would never mean to do it like this. But-but I was standing there and I saw her and it kind of ca-came together-” 

“Did you know?” you ask.

“I didn’t even know she was com-” 

“Did you know you loved her still?” you ask, your voice more firm. 

He looks at you, eyes narrowed, before looking down at his hands, twisting the rings you were supposed to exchange in a few minutes in his hands. And you suppose this reaction - Suguru Getou’s silence, his first time being something other than beautiful is answer enough. 

Ten minutes later, he walks past you - your sister, the nanny you grew up with, your college best friends - hand in hand with Hana as they nearly run out cheesing, his initial despair left replaced with bliss as he leaves you in your white dress. 

And you know that out of the infinite moments of your life, it’ll always boil down to this one. That you’ll be getting over this - how tasteless, how cruel, how evil the situation truly is. 

After a month of being encouraged by people to move forward, to bounce back, you do it in the way people don’t expect. You move away. And three months after the fact, when your pain is still raw in your chest, you meet Satoru Gojo. 

--

You lean against the wall of the elevator, pressing the faded star button, as you scroll through your errands on your phone - buy paint, email landlord, mail ring. 

Mail ring. 

You reach into your bag, the thought of it possessing a sudden will to see it. You yank it out and press your coffee into the crook of your elbow, focusing on the jewelry - a silver band with a pear shaped diamond in the middle. The ring Suguru’s mom wore when she was married to his dad. The one you were supposed to wear when he married you. 

Suguru asked you to mail it back last night. A roundabout way of course - initially filled with concern, deeply sincere and rehearsed apologies, before cutting to the chase. And you question the thought process.

You break up with your first love. Date another girl for two years. Get engaged, plan an entire wedding, walk to the altar. Just to stand up and walk away, because it’s always been her. 

And a mere three months later, reach out to ask for the ring back, because he has to propose. Again. 

You ponder your options, in earnest. Granted, you’re definitely in the anger stage of your grieving process, corny terms used by your corny therapist, who is trying her best. 

One. Mail it back. Tell them to go to hell. 

Two. Throw it into the ocean and say you lost it. And then tell them to go to hell. 

Three. Don’t respond and pawn the ring for a decent amount of money. Use the fortune to send an ungodly amount of ominous letters to their house, telling them to go to hell. 

The elevator bell rings, stopping five floors short of the lobby, as two kids and a tall, pale haired man shuffle in. You give the three of them a polite smile as you slide to the side, opening up the space for them. 

“It’s female rage, Gojo.” 

“Female rage? I thought using the word female was bad, Tsumiki.” 

“It is. But not here.” 

“So if I use female as an adjective it’s not a bad thing?” 

The girl, barely thirteen you’re guessing, groans in frustration as she approaches the shorter boy, who is quietly leaning against the wall with his nose stuck in his video game. 

“Megumi. Tell Gojo he’s being stupid.” she states.

He looks up at the two of them, giving a soul shattering glare, before nudging her to the side. 

“On a good day, you’re both objectively stupid.” 

She rolls her eyes as she shoves him, muttering how annoying he is under her breath. And now they’re both shoving each other, pushing harder with each consecutive push before the boy bumps into you. You land against the wall and drop your latte all over your clothes, the cold liquid staining your white button down shirt. 

You groan, knowing you’ll have to go back up and change because the stain is so blatant, putting a pin in your errands and heading to work. You look up to find the pale haired man, blue eyes widely staring into yours, as he starts profusely apologizing. 

“I’m so sorry. We- I’ll pay for your dry cleaning. You know. Kids. They were raised in a barn.” 

“We were both raised by you.” they deadpan. 

You sigh, lifting the wet cloth off of your shirt as you look up at him, waving your hand in the air. 

“Ah. It’s okay, it happens. It’s no problem.” 

“No really. We insist. And-and problem solved. You can take my shirt instead!” he says, brightly smiling at you. 

You frown, looking up at him. 

“You’re like six feet tall.” 

“I’m actually six three.” he responds, winking.

You stare at him since he’s now unbuttoning his shirt as the elevator keeps moving down, and hands it to you. It’s pale blue and definitely too big for you, but he literally grabs your hand and places it into your palm, giving you a boyish smile. 

That’s when you take your moment to indiscreetly ogle him. For three reasons. First, he’s a stranger who just stripped in the elevator. Surely, a nutcase. Or a sex offender. Two, he’s smiling at you like he’s the sun. And three - he’s ripped. Like full on, toned Greek God ripped. 

“Do you want a picture? It’ll last longer.” 

“What? No- I wasn’t even looking. And-and take your shirt back. Who just takes their shirt off in an elevator? This isn’t going to fit me and I’ll look like a rodeo clown with this on and-” 

He laughs as he takes the shirt from your hands, holding open the sleeves as he instructs you to stick your arms in. You shake your head, which he rolls his eyes at, as he drapes the shirt around your shoulders, moving forward to pull your hair out of the collar. 

“You talk a lot, stranger.” 

“Huh?” 

“You. You talk a lot. Just put the shirt on properly and tuck it in - it’s like oversized and female fashion or whatever.” he responds. 

“Quit saying female. You sound like a pervert. And you look like one too.” the boy responds, rolling her eyes. 

The elevator door slides open, the lobby bustling in front of you. You shuffle out of the doors, yanking his shirt around your wrists as you adjust it on your frame. You turn your head to find him absent from your side, the three of them still standing in the elevator. 

“Are you not getting out?” 

“Miss me already?” 

“What? No. No, I just- you bothered me the entire way down and you’re not even getting out?” 

“Have to go get a shirt. I gave mine up for a pretty girl.” he responds, winking again, as the elevator doors close in front of you. 

--

Five days later, you muster up the courage to mail the ring. It’s packed into an envelope, sans words or writing, because if Suguru gave you silence at the end, he doesn’t deserve your words at the end either. 

You lean against the elevator, twisting over the envelope in your hands, as you feel the sweat sticking on your palms, ignoring the sinking feeling in your chest that it’s really all over. 

It should be the end. But every sinking, disgusting part of that moment - the eyes on you, your family nearby, your dress made to perfection - make you think that you’ll be getting over this your whole life. That you’ll never move forward. And why should you?

The door stops, five floors short of your stop, and the same guy - the pale haired one from a few days prior springs in, a wide smile crossing his face as he sees you in the elevator. He leans against the wall with you, so close that you can smell his cologne - musky and fresh. 

“Hi stranger. How was the shirt?” he asks. 

“I don’t like the color you’re wearing. Please don’t take it off because I don't want it.” 

“I was asking about the shirt from a few days ago. Not the one right now. Though if you’re doing a reverse psychology thing, I’m more than happy to oblige.” he responds, laughing. 

You feel your cheeks burn at misunderstanding, reaching up to fidget with the ends of your hair as the elevator keeps moving down. The two of you stay in silence, the consecutive beep on each floor seemingly getting louder until it lands on one. 

You make your move to walk out of the elevator, except he’s blocking the entrance and very aggressively pressing the button that closes the door. 

“What? Hey, I was getting off on that st-” 

“You were getting off at that stop. And now you’re not.” he responds, pressing the shiny button marking the eleventh floor. 

You cross your hands across your chest, glaring bullets into this idiot's face. 

“Is it asshole day? What’s your problem?” you ask. 

“I need a favor. And I’ve been trying to catch you in the elevator for five days now and only just found you. Who knnows how much longer it would be until I saw you again?” 

“So you couldn’t ask like a normal person? You just had to trap me in here.”

“Obviously.” 

You groan as you lean against the wall, watching the floors beep as they go up again. 

“So what do you want, stranger?” 

“I’m glad you asked. And it’s Gojo. My kids - you met them the other day - I’m trying to do that whole touchy-feely thing with them so they open up more. And they’re learning how to apologize this week, stranger.” 

“So you want me to come so they can apologize to me? And it’s Y/N.” 

“Y/N.” 

“Huh?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to say it. But yeah, just make something up about how that day was really bad for you or something so that they feel even worse and sincerely apologize.” 

You glare at him as the doors open and he grabs your wrist as he leads you down the hallway. 

“Lying is all touchy feely and perfect for processing your feelings right?” you ask, sarcastically. 

“Of course! I’m so glad you get it.” 

You glare as he sticks his key in the door and then standing behind you, two hands on your back as he pushes you in. The two kids are sitting at the table, the girl with her nose stuck in a book and the boy flicking through his video games again. 

You give the two of them a smile as Gojo holds out the chair for you, taking the seat at your left. 

“Hi guys. I’m Y/N. Gojo tells me that you both have something you want to talk to me about.” you say, giving the two of them bright smiles. 

“Megumi. And he’s forcing us to apologize to you. I personally think he should be giving you an apology for getting naked in an elevator and then waiting for hours going up and down to find you again.” he deadpans. 

You turn your head to Gojo. Hours? You mouth. He profusely denies the claim by shaking his head, signaling for you to turn back to Tsumiki. You nod, turning to her. 

“I’m Tsumiki. Uh. What do I do first? Oh- OH. I just want to ask if there’s anything you want to tell me about what happened the other day. Like how it made you feel or whatever.” 

You try your best to conceal your smile at her bluntness, focusing on what Gojo had asked you to do. 

“Well, thank you for asking Tsumiki. In all honesty, that day was…not an easy one for me. It started out pretty rough, like a lot of days do lately and” 

You pause, thinking back to that moment. Of that morning - when you couldn’t make your bed perfectly, the sheets still wrinkled, the coffee not tasting just right, struggling to find an outfit and settling for whatever was closest, and that god forsaken sparkly ring. You can feel your eyes burning, your vision blurring as you clear your throat. 

“I-I was going to do something that was really hard for me. I-I got engaged. I mean I was engaged and I actually almost got married. Like, walking all the way down the aisle and white dress married. And then I didn’t. And then I-I moved here because everything there reminded me of it and the guy, god that idiot, called me and asked me to send the ring back. And-and he wants it because he wants to use it for the girl who stood up at our wedding. And yeah, I get it, they’re happy and whatever and they want to get married as soon as possible, but god, it-it’s just humiliating to have the same thing happen twice and for things to move forward so fast when I’m still stuck there, you know?” 

You feel one of your tears fall straight onto your hand, suddenly aware that you’re crying in this stranger's house and you’ve said too much to a fourteen year old who's supposed to be learning how to apologize. You look up to find the three of them staring at you - eyes wide and pinched expressions on their faces.

“You got stood up at your own wedding?” 

“Tsumiki. That’s rude.” Gojo responds. 

“It’s okay. Yeah, I did.” you respond, waving him off. He looks wildly uncomfortable at the entire thing - probably because he's one of those emotionally repressed guys whose never seen a girl cry. 

“Please tell me you did something crazy when it happened. Like screamed or something, oh my god.” she asks, excitement filling her face. 

“Tsumiki.” 

“Um. Well, I think I technically broke a bunch of candelabras? Does that count?” 

“What?!” she asks, her excitement only growing as she takes your hands into hers. 

“Well, after the two of them left together, I went back in. And everyone was trying to console me and whatever and I don’t know it was just weird. Irritating. So I was trying to gesture them all to move away and I accidentally knocked down the candelabras lining the aisle. Except they were all so close together that I pushed one and then they all went falling.” 

She leans back in her chair, mimicking the motion as she turns to Megumi, the two of them discussing how loud it probably was. Gojo’s leaning onto the table, cheeks resting against his palms, as he stares at the two of them, a soft smile on his face. 

“Tsumiki. Megumi. You forgot something.” 

“Oh. Oh! Right. We’re sorry for what we did, really. That day must have been bad and you were probably just stuck thinking about how lonely and lame the entire situation is, like really it’s got to be depressing on so many levels and-” 

“Tsumiki.” 

“Sorry. Again. For making a bad day worse. And for bringing it up again. But for what it’s worth, I think you’re really cool. And he’s lame. Like most men, obviously.” she says. 

“Cool, huh? I’ve never had someone describe my situation as cool, Tsumiki.” 

“That’s because you probably know idiots. You’re like the main character of a really cool movie, where you like commit a murder or create a heist or something.” she says, jumping out of her seat as Megumi follows her into the kitchen, the two of them giggling about spies. 

You turn to Gojo, giving him a half smile as the two of you watch them in the kitchen. 

“You know when I said to make up a story, you didn’t have to add that much detail.” 

“What? Oh. That was all real.” 

He puts a hand on your head, awkwardly patting your hair as he gives you a weird look. 

“Ah. Sorry? My bad. That really sucks, babygirl.” 

You laugh at the utter awkwardness of the moment, at this gangly idiots' efforts to console you. You’ve seen every effort of comfort in the past three months - the awkward pinched smiles from your moms friends, your angry friends promising to egg his house, the half glass full righteous parents telling you that everything you lose is a step you take. But you’ve never seen this. 

“Gojo. Were you raised in a barn? What’s wrong with you?” 

“Sue me. I’ve never had a friend get stood up at her own wedding. What do you even say to that?” 

“I don’t know. I’m not sure if ‘that really sucks babygirl’ is where I would start.” 

“My bad. Please let me know your preferred term of endearment and I’ll do better next time.” 

You give him a smile as he leads you to the kitchen, splitting the only thing he has in his fridge - an eight foot white sheet cake - with you as you both smile at each other over the counter. 

--

You sit in the stands next to Gojo and Megumi, the three of you splitting a bag of skittles as you watch Tsumiki walk up to the plate. You’re not sure how you ended up here, exactly. The timeline gets muddled in your head. Because that apology led to you returning the next day to show Tsumiki a video of you breaking the candelabras. 

Then you were eating dinner with them the next day, all fancy and so that Tsumiki could knock over some candelabras of her own. Then Megumi wanted to do a deep clean of the apartment the next day, which you helped with. And then you picked them up from school when Gojo was stuck in traffic and then he drove all the way to your job with an umbrella so you wouldn’t have to walk home in the rain and then you just saw him all the time.

And now you’re here, at Tsumiki’s softball game. She’s an aggressive player, the metal making loud cracking sounds against the ball when she hits, her determination to run off even faster.

“Gojo.” 

“Hm, pumpkin?” 

“Gross. 3/10.” 

“Pumpkin is a 3/10 but sugar is a 5/10? You’re ridiculous.” 

Ever since Gojo’s babygirl line, he’s been testing out different endearments as he talks to you. You give him a rating out of ten, which he is always offended by. 

“Sugar is like old money. Leather jackets, slicked back hair, Danny Zuko.” 

“Danny Zuko is ugly. I’m way hotter than him.” 

“Anyways. Do you ever think that Tsumiki is a little…intense? I mean, I don’t know she’s all about rage and the thrill and exhilaration and that’s okay but-” 

He frowns, looking out at her - a determined, intense expression pressed on her face at second base. 

“I guess. But, that’s just because of everything that’s happened. She-she’s used to being so smiley and carefree all the time. And I told her that when she’s with me and us, that she doesn’t have to be anymore if she feels the need to be. And I guess letting go of that, letting everything out is intense for her. And she’s just trying to feel it all.” 

You put your hand on his knee and squeeze, giving him a smile as you look out at her too. 

“I get it. I used to feel that way when….you know. I guess I just thought it was right to do it the intense way, to fight, to love like a knife, like a closed fist. That if I argued and felt and did all these things as intensely as I could, it would be right.” 

He puts his hand on your knee now and squeezes, leaning his head against yours. Tsumiki sprints two bases, scoring a goal as she jumps up and down - her chest heaving up and down from panting. The two of you instantly jump up, hands locked together as you jump up and down just like her and excitedly cheer her name. Over the cheering, he responds, eyes still focused on her high-fiving all her teammates.

“I get what you’re saying. But, I don’t want her to think about love that way. It would kill me if she did. I want her to feel these intense feelings but love should be soft. It shouldn’t be a war, it should be a home. I don’t want her to ever have to fight for it, I want it to creep up on her - build a place in her heart that always stays there. Don’t you agree, pookie?” 

You turn to him, glaring at him through his stupid light blue sunglasses. One of the best things about being friends with Gojo? That he so earnestly, so deeply wants the best for Tsumiki and Megumi that it makes your heart hurt. That his love for them is so unconditional, that you just want to witness it - have the sweetness rub off of you. 

He makes two sets of dinner each night, because they’re both picky eaters. And every time you tell him to just be more firm, to sit them down and make them eat it, he refuses. Because the thought that either of them would be so stubborn that they wouldn’t eat dinner at all and go to bed hungry is worse than taking the time to make two sets of food. One now, because you always make the other. 

He makes Tsumiki watch documentaries about famous female figures - politicians, music artists, writers. Tsumiki’s well versed in every feat of women - from Taylor Swift’s sold out shows to Jane Austens’ impact as a romance writer.  He goes out of his way to make sure that she has positive female role models, to try his best to give her things that he can’t blatantly offer. He loves them so much. He loves so much. It’s truly the best thing about him. 

The second? That he takes something serious but still manages to make you laugh at the end. 

“Pookie, Gojo? Really? That’s a 0/10. You can do better than that.” 

--

“The reservation is under Gojo. It should be two rooms, connected. Four queens.” you say, tapping your knuckles against the counter as Gojo ushers Megumi to the bathroom - who has been complaining of a very full bladder the entire drive down. 

The four of you had come down to the closest beach town for Christmas and Megumi's birthday, planning to spend a few days in the area until the new year rang in. The woman hands you two keycards and you give her a smile as you wait by the elevator for the two of them to return. 

Six floors later and the four of you are pushing into your rooms, Tsumiki and Megumi immediately flopping on the beds and eating the little chocolates placed on the pillows as you and Gojo roll your eyes. 

You unlock the connecting door and push your bag through to find one king bed in yours and Gojo’s room as Gojo joins you at his side. He wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin shoulder as you both groan. 

“Fuck. No blanket hogging, snookums.” 

“Disgusting. Negative ten, Gojo.” 

He immediately plops his things down onto the left side of the bed and you land on the right, setting out your chargers and taking off your jewelry as you hop into the shower. Eight months ago, you would have been so opposed and appalled at the affair - having to share a bed with Gojo - but you’ve honestly seen too much of him now that it doesn’t phase you. 

Granted, when you met him, he literally took his shirt off. But you're so casual now that the boundary of sharing a bed is virtualy nothing. And you've literally done it before.

You get ready in the bathroom while Gojo takes a shower, despite the fact that he’s literally naked a few feet away. You’ve shared his bed when you end up staying too late - because you’re not breaking your back by sleeping on the floor and neither is he. He eats from your plate because you never finish his own and you always steal sips of his coffee even when you say you don’t want one. 

One time he used your toothbrush by accident. That however, the two of you never moved past. 

You pad into the bathroom, filling up the room with a decent amount of steam as you fill up your scalding shower and indulge yourself in all the fancy bath soaps and salts in the shower. Leaving with muscles soothed and pruney fingers, you towel your hair up and throw on your sweats to nestle into the clean sheets. Gojo’s now sitting on the right side, lazily flicking through the channels. 

“Gojo. I was on the right.” 

“Yeah, my bad. I realized I totally claimed a side first. I know you hate sleeping by the window because you’re convinced some big bad man is going to come steal you. Now he can come get me!” 

You look over at your side table, the things you set up before now switched to your side. They're all laid out perfectly, the way you had left the, except on the opposite nightstand.

“Gojo?” 

“Hm?” 

“How’d you know how to put my stuff like this?” 

“Huh?” 

“The chargers. The jewelry.” 

“Oh. Just noticed that’s all. You spend like a few minutes every night before you go to sleep making sure it’s all right. That your chargers aren’t tangled, the rings and earrings are together and stuff. Just figured I’d put it that way so you wouldn’t have to.” 

You smile, cheeks warm at the thought of Gojo paying attention enough to notice that you do that and going as far as doing it for you. After he remembered your irrational fear of getting murked in the night and moved when he didn’t have to. Granted, Gojo’s thoughtfulness is always one of the things you’ve loved most about him. 

. 

. 

. 

Oh.

Oh. 

You look over at him, knees hiked to his chest, messy white hair and that loose old t-shirt on his frame as he pokes through your stash of snacks. His eyes are so intensely focused on the movie - Danny Zuko dancing on the screen in Grease - as he nervously fidgets with his knuckles like he always does. 

No. No no no no no no no no no no. 

You’re falling in love. You’re falling in love with Satoru Gojo, you’re falling in love again and you shouldn't be.

Gojo looks over at you, bored blue eyes immediately filling with concern as he jumps up, arms resting falling against your biceps. You bring your fists to your eyes, wiping away the tears, trying to push them down as he whispers, softly broaching the subject. 

“Hey. You okay? The fake burglar scared you that badly?” 

You snort through your tears as he squeezes your arms.

Fuck. You’re down bad. Down horrendous. That joke wasn’t even funny and it made you snort. 

“What’s wrong, my little tater tot?” 

“Five.” 

“I thought that was at least a seven. You love tater tots.” he whispers, tucking you into the crook of his neck as he rubs small circles into your back, his soft voice vertebrates through his chest. 

What happened? When did you get like this? When did you start sharing beds and leaving a toothbrush and a spare pair of clothes at his place? 

Why-why is every part of you open with him? Why do you want to open it for him? 

You can’t. You just can’t. 

“Y/N.” 

“Yeah?” you murmur into the clothed fabric of his shirt. 

“Words please. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” 

You crumple the fabric of his shirt in your fists, burying down every feeling - overwhelming, endearing, warm and bright - and lie through your teeth. 

“Nothing. I-I just remembered. It’s Suguru’s birthday.” 

He pulls you out of his arms, bringing up his hands to your cheeks, as he gives you a lopsided small. 

“Sucks. Want me to kill him?”

“Obviously.” 

“Consider it done.” 

You smile as he lets go, dragging you back onto the bed with him. And you both watch the movie - you swooning over Danny Zuko and Gojo telling you that he’s way hotter than him the entire time - until you somehow end up nestled in his arms in the dark, his soft sleep breaths lulling you to sleep. 

You're screwed.

--

You and Gojo pad down to the little restaurant the hotel has the next morning, leaving a very grumpy Tsumiki and so fast asleep he’s nearly dead Megumi in their beds. You and Gojo opt for a booth, sitting on the same side, as you look through the menu. 

“Splitsies?” 

“Huh?” 

“Splitsies. You pick the savory, I’ll pick the sweet, okay?” 

You nod, cheeks burning as you look through the menu at the implication, trying your best not to focus on your legs pressed together, his hand so casually placed on thigh like it’s second nature.

It is second nature, he does it all the time. But should he, if he’s just your friend? 

Your friend that you’re in love with? 

“And for you, ma’am?” 

“Oh. Um-” 

You scan your eyes down the menu and pick the first thing listed, eggs benedict, earning a weird smile from Gojo as they walk away with your order. 

“Okay, my little eggs benedict. You’re paying because you hogged the blanket all night.” 

“Three. Unoriginal. And you literally stopped my circulation at one point, so you pay.” 

“Ugh. The things you do for love.” he responds, eyes focused on the window to his left.

“Excuse me?” 

Gojo looks over at you, a weird expression in his eyes. And you feel your eyes widen when you realize this is another one of Gojo’s jokes - like when he calls you his wife, says that you’re both two parents roughing it through the world - and feel the embarrassment rush to your cheeks as you bury your face into the drinks menu. 

He slides his arm around your shoulder, whispering into your ears with a smirk. 

“It’s eight in the morning. Are we really going to drink right now?” 

We. 

“Sh-shut up. I was just looking.” 

“What’s wrong with you? You’re being all squirrely and weird.” 

“No, I’m not. Yo-you’re being weird. You fucking pervert, always going on about some we this, wifey this shit.” 

He drops his hands on the table, squinting at you like he’s trying to discern the writing on your face. And after a few seconds his face lights up, replaced by a devious smirk that you absolutely hate. 

“What, Gojo?” 

“You just realized, didn’t you?” 

“Realized what?” 

“That you love me.” he states, matter of factly. 

You feel your jaw drop as you stare at him, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as you feel your cheeks burn, his closeness to you making you even more embarrassed. At him saying that, so bluntly.

“I don’t love you, Gojo.” 

“Oh, you totally do. Is that what you were crying about last night? Overwhelmed with your love for me?” 

Satoru Gojo. Fucking mindreader. 

“No. No, I don’t- I can’t-” you mutter, hands in your face as the entire thing bubbles out, your big secret wide open. 

You can’t love Gojo. You just loved Suguru. And you don’t love anyone like you love Suguru and you shouldn't with what happened and

Satoru puts a hand on your head, ruffling your hair. 

“Y/N. Just, stop panicking. I'm teasing. You don’t have to be all embarrassed and figure out what it means that right away. You-you have a lot of baggage that comes with feeling like this. I’m guessing your first line of defense is to run off or push me away, so I can’t do to you what Suguru did. But - just calm down, okay? Eat eggs benedict and french toast with me and then drive along the coast.” 

You stare at him, his expression so calm, so serene at something so serious that it’s off putting. 

“Can you do that for me? It is my birthday, you know?” 

"Your birthday was like three weeks ago."

"Yeah but it's still my month. You have to give in."

You nod at which he gives a bright smile, squishing your cheeks with his hand as the plates get placed in front of you. You both tangle your arms, the entire elephant you just spilled out ignored, as you share your plates of breakfast. 

“Do you like the food, my little strawberry?” 

“Yes. And that was a 8/10, not bad.” 

“That was horrible. You're blinded by love already.” 

--

The entire thing twists into a maze in your mind. A labyrinth of every moment you’ve ever shared with Gojo, with Suguru, with every complex feeling that comes with love - picking up the kids from school, him brushing your hair for fun, comparing hand sizes, doing a staring contest but instead just admiring each other's eyes.

Which is why when you come back out from your day with Tsumiki and Megumi, tuck them both into bed, and end back up in your room, you’re so anxious it’s all tumbling out of your mouth. 

“Gojo.” 

“Yes?” 

“I can’t do this. This thing- I-I can’t do this. I want to go home. Can I go home?” 

“What? Are you okay, you-” 

He stands up, leaning forward to press his hands against your cheeks but you immediately back away, flinching away from his touch. He frowns, the motion catching him off guard, as he steps back. 

“You want to go home? I mean, I can wake the kids and take you now but-” 

“No, no. I want to go alone, I don’t want you there, this is all a lot and-” 

“Y/N. I said not to think about that. You-stop thinking it into this big thing it’s not.” 

You crouch down onto the ground, hiking your knees to your chest as you cry into your bones, the tears spilling down the side of your legs. You can feel the sobs racking out of your chest and Gojo’s arms holding you still, the presence you’ve relied on for the past eight months burning you.

“Y/N.” 

“Gojo.” 

“Are you scared I don’t love you back? I- you know I do right?” 

You look up at him, blue eyes widening in shock as he pulls you into his arms properly, squeezing hard. 

“I love you. I’ve loved you for a while. Don’t- don’t doubt it okay because I do. And-” 

“It’s not that.” you whisper. 

He pulls back again, hands resting against your cheeks - which you allow this time - as he frowns. He nods lightly, signaling for you to talk as he rubs his fingers back and forth on your cheeks, the touch soothing. 

“I’m scared that I love you.” 

“Hey. I’m not that bad.” 

You laugh, which makes him smile, as he lightly applies pressure to your cheeks. 

“I’m scared because I don’t know how to do it when it’s like this. I-I handed my heart over and someone broke it and if you do that, I can’t-

“I’m not going to do that.” he responds, voice firm. 

“You love soft, Satoru. You- there’s so many parts of me that are hard, my heart is all rough and calloused over and yours is soft and perfect. I love like a knife, like a battle, like it’s a war and I’m fighting for my life. You love like it’s the air you breathe, like you’re watering flowers and building a home. You-you don’t want to love me when I don’t know how to do that and I’m like this and you should just leave when you can. I’m like a labyrinth, a big jumbled mess that you’ll have to spend forever figuring out.” 

He sighs, eyes clenched shut and shoulders tensed up. 

“Y/N. You contradict yourself in every sentence and it pisses me off.” 

“What?” 

“You’re right. I love like it’s air I breathe, like I’m watering flowers and building a home. I’ve been building ours for months now and you really think I’m going to walk out of here because it’s not perfect? I knew this was what I was getting into and I wanted it.” 

You can feel your ears ringing, tears rising in your eyes because you know whatever he says next is going to inevitably make you sob. 

“Gojo. You, it’s a mess up here. I can't do that to you.” you whisper, tapping your forehead. 

“A mess to you, right now. Nothing about you is a mess to me. There-there’s so much that’s happened, that’s twisted all these things that are supposed to be good into bad. But just-just work with me here, okay? We’ll untwist them. We’ll make your labyrinth into a nice little garden with a pond, okay? 

You push your face into his shirt, his heart pounding against your ears, as he wraps his arms around you again. 

“You want a garden and a pond in our litte love house?” you whisper.

“Yeah. Megumi always stares at flowers when we walk to school, I think we should do gardening when we move out of the apartments. And we can sit there together, you know?” 

“Yeah.” you whisper. 

“Are you letting me?” 

“Letting you what?” 

“In. In here and here.” he says, pointing to your head and then your heart, which is violently thumping. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.” 

He leans forward, pressing the softest kiss to your forehead, before whispering a soft thank you in your hair. You cry a great deal more, his soft words soothing you down, until you’re tangled under the sheets together, every part of your body vibrating with what just happened. 

“Go to bed, my love. We have to get up early tomorrow.”

You turn to the other side and he snakes his arms around your waist, his breath tickling the back of your neck. 

“Satoru.” 

“Hm?” 

“My love? It’s ten out of ten.” you whisper. 

You feel him press a kiss to the back of your neck before you both fall asleep, the warmth enveloping you in the deepest rest you’ve ever had.

--

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

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