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writella · 1 year

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Go to Sleep

Synopsis: Daryl and the reader explore a new way of trying to help you get to sleep.

Details: Smut, 18+, soft-dom!Daryl, afab!reader, tiny bit of mean Daryl but not really, tiny bit of somnophilia but in the end it isn’t really either, Daryl reveals a little of his praise kink, thigh riding, oral (reader receiving), brief descriptions of anxiety, but ends sweetly. wc: 2.8k.

You hate the feeling of having your eyes closed but being so, desperately awake. It feels like a frustrating loop of constantly thinking about the thing you should be doing, the peace you should be feeling, but you simply, just, can’t.

It’s not like when you’re sitting out in the woods, the sun so nice and bright as you rest upon a tree, or when you’re on a ride with Daryl and you close your eyes, resting on his shoulder as the wind hits your face. It doesn’t feel warm and safe; it feels like a dark, void space, and you’re running endlessly to nowhere.

This is how it was, you had been having terrible sleep for weeks now. You felt it in your throat and in your chest whenever— and it was every time— that you woke up with your heart pounding in the middle of the night. You felt your heart beating without even touching your body, and it made you want to throw up.

This is why Daryl had slept with you for the past two weeks, hoping to ease your thoughts.

What you and Daryl had remained undefined at this point. He was loyal and cared for you deeply, but he was also independent and enjoyed doing things at his own pace— initiating wasn’t his strong suit.

This is also why, just the other night nearing twelve am, you had to beg Daryl to take you around the Alexandria houses for a fourth time on his bike before allowing him to leave you on your doorstep. This is where you admitted what was going on, “Please,” you asked sadly, “When I’m alone… I just- I just start thinking too much. I can’t sleep.”

So of course, he took you around again. He didn’t even say anything, just grabbed one of your hands tighter around him, starting to ride slowly. Firstly because he wasn’t trying to wake anyone up, and secondly because he was trying to make it last longer for you. He went around five more times.

Every time you saw your home approaching again your eyes dropped knowing what was coming until he just kept going. But after the fifth time, just when you hoped maybe this was a dream where you could just go around in peaceful circles all night with Daryl, he stopped. He had to sleep too.

He stood between his bike then, waiting for you to get your door, but you moved at a deafeningly slow pace. You hated the darkness that was beginning to weigh behind your eyes. You hated the night now and you hated it even more when you weren’t with him. So, as you hit the top step, you turned back around, running up to him.

Your eyes were meek when you paused before making your final request, “Daryl… please, will you stay with me?”

And that did it: as if you already hadn’t made him go around the neighborhood almost 10 times, those were the words that hit him at the bottom of his heart the most. Neither of you were ever as forward as you were being that night and he couldn’t say no. You told him that you needed him.

The first night was a success, in fact. You happened to fall asleep quite quickly as his strong arms held you down, grounding you in safety. Though as the days trailed on, it seemed that wasn’t exactly enough anymore. Your intrusive thoughts always found a way of sneaking in through Daryl’s stronghold.

Tonight was a night like that. Your eyes were closed, but your mind was very much awake.

You had initially gone to sleep on your side— you both were. Daryl’s face was almost touching yours.

He wasn’t much of a talker all the time, but the typical method that had been working other than laying on his chest was asking him about his day, what things he might have gathered from any trips outside, or seeing if, and it was only on rare occasions, he would tell you a story from his past.

There weren’t many fond memories, but he would always find something: maybe about one of his first hunting trips, or some hijinks he and his brother got into before he ditched when Daryl was a kid… but he didn’t like casually talking about his brother. He’d keep those short for now. You waited patiently for them to get longer. Either way, the stories always helped you get to that initial sleep, so he’d make sure to find one to tell if it made you feel better.

But now you were still awake and Daryl was seemingly asleep. You knew he could probably tell you were turning and shifting at some points, but you didn’t want to truly wake him up yet. It felt greedy after he was being so giving. And it was so rare to see him so peaceful. His eyes were usually elusive and stern. You might have started to know him more than others, but still, it wasn’t all the time that you could tell what was in his head. He was always guarded, especially between the mouth and eyes, but when he was asleep, his face relaxed.

Though the insomnia was killing you, it was nice to see him like this— he was just so handsome. His hair, his lips, his arms— you were obsessed with every shirt he ruined by cutting the sleeve— his abdomen, you almost grazed his lower stomach with your finger tips, thinking about if and how much you would love his-

Then a thought came up.

Probably worse than waking him up even though that would do it regardless, but you moved mindlessly before really thinking about it.

Your legs slid forward, slotting Daryl’s top leg that perched forward, knee almost touching your leg, in the middle of your own two.

Your legs move up a bit and you brush yourself against his thigh once, the movement is so small, then twice, the slight friction feels good, your eyes finally close again, but then you stop. What were you doing? Your head turns face first into the bed and stays there for a moment, quietly letting out your frustration into the sheet.

“You gonna move or what?” It comes out as a grumble and it makes you jut.

You’ve been caught.

“You ain’t slick,” his eyes are still closed, “but go on.” He takes his top leg out from between you and places it better, from the awkwardness ‘trying’ to not wake him up angle you had it at before.

You hold his top shoulder and he holds you right by the waist and you begin to rock. Daryl starts to flex his quad up into you as you grind down onto him. Your wetness finally seeping up so that your lips open a little as they push and rock against him. You can now feel your clit getting more attention from the hard pressure his thigh causes against you.

Daryl opens his eyes for a moment, yours are closed. Face twisted and eyes scrunched as you let out short breaths. You were invested in getting yourself off, you grinded down faster, his hands on your hips now were loose allowing you to go as hard as you pleased, for a minute, then another, and then another until he stopped you.

He pushed his hands and fingertips hard into your hips, deciding he wanted to control the pace. He pushed you into him slow and deep and despite it feeling good, you wanted to go fast, to stop thinking. It made you whine, complainingly as you came down from the high you felt you could have reached. “But Daryl-”

“Shut up.” It sounded like a quiet bark.

You were getting him riled up, yes, but it was also a full moon tonight and Daryl would rather be sleeping on the hard rock ground under the stars than in a bed, only being able to stare at the sky from a window. Even though he knew you had been feeling anxious about something for a while, and he wanted to make you feel okay, he can’t lie, your sleep not improving was starting to get on his nerves a bit. And especially so tonight when your restlessness kept him up the whole time, despite you not knowing.

He allowed you to keep riding him at his pace for a moment until he got a new idea: he pushed your leg off and you gave an exasperated sighed, frustrated at the feeling of nothingness. “Shh,” was all he whispered, it came out sharp.

“Daryl, let’s just-”

“Stop.” He took you by the face when he said it, squeezing your jaw roughly. “Don’t talk.”

He lays you on your back and takes off your pants you were sleeping with, they’re ruined, and you weren’t wearing any underwear after your shower. The blanket is pushed to his side of the bed now as he goes downward, spreading your legs, not too wide but just enough for him to get in between. Holding your thighs, his thumbs kneading the skin on the inner side. He licks the outside of your hole, almost slurping in your wetness as he does it just so he could move it up your pussy toward your clit and sucks in again. He lays his tongue flat and presses back down again, repeating the motion, making you even more wet, everywhere.

Your upper back moved forward, your elbows and forearms propped up so you could watch. This felt better than before, even with his slower movements, he felt so good there so instantly that you couldn’t help yourself but staying up to look, but after he sees you he stops.

Silently, Daryl pushes your shoulders back into the bed, you can’t tell if he was only accidentally being rough. He pushes your pillow up only slightly against the headboard, just enough so your head wasn’t completely propped up, but just so if you wanted to move your head to the side you could still look if you wanted to when you realized you could. “Stay,” then begrudgedy he adds, “and close your eyes.”

Daryl went down again, making his pace slower than before: His lips and tongue sucked in your clit again, it coming into his mouth as much as the little thing could and he repeats it again until he had peppered you there with slobbery kisses and then he moved to one side of your labia, his lips slotting themselves above and under that one side as his tongue goes out and in, kissing you deeply. The man was literally making out with your pussy.

Just as he would with your mouth, his head turned and leaned into it, pushing his tongue in and pressing against you, his lips in between one of your own down there as he did so. He went in the middle of you again, his nose rubbing against your clit a few times as his tongue went lower, sucking in more of your wetness again. His nose brushing against you made you shudder.

Your eyes were still closed, but they scrunched even harder now and your head started shaking side to side. You have never felt him down there being so intentional, deliberate, and intense. Something so surprisingly romantic, but still so fucking dirty and sexy. He has pushed your wetness everywhere. You felt like a dripping mess and more than half of his face was all coated in it and it just felt so good.

He moved to the other side of your pussy now, giving it the same attention as he did the first. Making out with you down there as if he could do it forever. So slow, but it felt so warm and deep.

You felt him suck you in and swallow some of your wetness. He hummed into you as he did it, a raspy “mmmm” melted into you and it made you moan, the sound coming from you instantaneously because of the vibration you felt down there from his voice. You covered your mouth, your house was quiet and you didn’t want to wake anyone up but the more he continued, the harder it was becoming.

Now, his lip suctioned your pussy lip in between his and he slid down, tongue trailing the inner side until he was able to slot his tongue inside your hole, staying there and still kissing you. Moving his tongue in and out now, still slowly, feeling every bit as he moved.

Your quiet pants were continuous, but you were trying hard to hold in your noises. Not wanting to wake up anybody else you lived with, but also not knowing if Daryl would stop again if you spoke too much.

To your misfortune, he stopped anyway. Your eyes open and push your head to the side of your pillow so you can look down at him. Your mouth was open, but you made sure not to complain.

His chin almost rested on your mound, he was already looking up. “Does it feel good?” You couldn’t read his eyes, but his voice was surprisingly tender and questioning.

You assured him immediately, “yes,” you whispered giggling. You brush his hair with your fingers, undoing some tangles. You got lost in his eyes for a moment before he went down again.

“Tell me,” he says, it almost sounds muffled as he sucks you in until he takes a breath to say more clearly, “I wanna hear you now.”

“Don’t wanna get to loud,” you’re breathless.

He licks you off his lips, looking you in the eye, “so don’t.”

Daryl starts going faster now, breathing you in and humming, knowing you can feel the vibrations, jerk. “Mmm, Daryl, please.” You start to pant again, still too scared you might let yourself go too far.

His fingers spread wide, splaying over to your lower stomach, pushing down until he reaches your tit and circling your nipples. His other hand joins him, it makes you inhale sharply. With that and the way he circled your hole, trying to get his tongue to go in and press as much as he could, it caused you to jerk up, taking one of his hands in your own, squeezing it. Your other hand went to his hair. His fingers weren’t even inside of you, but his hands felt so big no matter where he touched you and his tongue felt incredible, you didn’t know how he did it and it made you start to loose it, “ah- Daryl-”

“You like that?” He pushed you hand off his head and he took his free hand to finger your clit and he went back to sucking and making out with you toward your center. It all makes you nod your head, shaking quickly.

“Say it.”

“I like it,” it came out as a whispered shriek. “I like it, I like it,” you were breathless, “Daryl you feel so good.” You were holding on as hard as you could, but it wasn’t working. Your thighs came to close in on his face but he pushed his hands into your inner legs opening them even further and he kept going down, his nose pressing into you.

His mouth moved up again making out with your clit and lips on top and two of his fingers went into your hole.

You held onto his other hand again and squeezed and he thrusted his fingers into you hard and fast, he wanted to make you reach the end now.

“Oh- Daryl- oh my god,” you were coming out pathetically now as his fingers started to curl into you, and he added another.

Suddenly, you felt it. Right at the bottom of your stomach, the spark, the indescribable electricity as he kept humming into you on top and jamming into you at the bottom. All you heard was the squelch of you and his fingers and tongue lapping and lapping until you let out as much of a suppressed moan as you could release as you came.

Your eyes finally relaxed as you settled down and Daryl sat up on the bed, watching your breathing slow.

He stayed there for a moment, looking at how the night’s light shined on you from the window.

You had pulled the blanket over your legs again but he pulled it off. You didn’t know exactly what he was doing but your eyes were still closed. You were tired and sexed out now, you couldn’t get yourself to open them or ask questions, and it wasn’t a particularly cold night anyway and you still had his shirt on. You let it be, your mind finally drifting until you heard quiet footsteps travel down stairs, until they quickly ascended again.

Daryl took you by the upper back and under your knees, picking you up. With no words he took you to the front porch, gently laid you on the blanket, the side closest to the door. He laid himself on the opposite, closest to the sky.

You’re curled into his chest, you almost looked like a kitten, arm over him, fist curling into your chin contentedly, eyes closed and so peaceful, but you still kept nestling.

“Go to sleep,” he insisted softly. His hand went into your hair, lulling you further into your trance. This time it worked. He did everything right and now the trick was paying off, you couldn’t help but fall closer and closer into your slumber.

Daryl turned to his left to look at the moon, its gentle gleam finally coaxing him into his own sleep as well.

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mononijikayu · 1 month

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love me anyway — fushiguro megumi.

Megumi was quiet for a moment, his gaze steady and thoughtful. Then, he asked quietly, “Do you love me?” The question took you by surprise, but you nodded without hesitation. “Of course, I do. I love you more than anything.” Before you could say more, he cut you off, his voice firm yet tender. “Then love me anyway.” he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’ll love you like that too. But in my way. Okay?”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Idol AU!

WARNING/s: General Audience, SFW, Fluff, Romance, Mild Angst, Comfort, Care, Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Crying, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Confessions, Mutual Affection, Love, Hugging, Idol! Megumi, Idol! Reader, Someone Love Me Like Megumi Loves Reader;

WORDS: 5k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: the kanji translates to 1st bubble - 'love me anyway' and 2nd bubble - 'i'll love you like that too'; i was also supposed to publish this last night, but i was exhausted from the nightmare of trying to get admitted for classes at our unprepared uni. but alas, it is what it is. also, i keep thinking - would people be interested to ask commission me for fiction work??? if so, tell me~ anyway, i love you all!!!

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IF ANYONE ASKS ABOUT YOU, MEGUMI SAYS NOTHING. When Megumi Fushiguro was asked about his personal life, especially concerning his relationship status, he always took a measured approach. His calm demeanor, coupled with his reluctance to divulge details, created a mystery that intrigued fans and media alike.

Interviewers would frequently probe with questions about who he might be dating, their curiosity piqued by his silence. Yet Megumi, skilled at deflecting attention, would maintain an air of nonchalance. He would often sidestep the inquiries with practiced ease. "I prefer to keep my personal life private." he’d say with a polite smile, steering the conversation to his latest projects or upcoming performances.

When pressed further, his responses would be deliberately vague. "I’m not seeing anyone special at the moment." he’d offer, though his tone hinted at something more, leaving room for speculation. Occasionally, he’d indulge in playful ambiguity, saying, "That’s a bit of a secret." allowing the press and his fans to indulge in their wild theories.

In truth, his silence was not a mere avoidance of the topic but a carefully crafted shield. The reality was that he was deeply committed to you, his fellow pop singer. To the outside world, he remained an enigma, but those who knew him well understood that his reluctance to discuss his personal life was his way of protecting something precious.

Away from the spotlight, Megumi cherished the moments he spent with you. In the quiet of your shared spaces, there were no prying eyes, no pressure to perform or maintain a facade. Here, he could be himself—a man deeply in love, unguarded and tender in ways the world never saw.

He would often steal glances at you when you weren’t looking, a soft smile playing on his lips as he marveled at how effortlessly you fit into his life. It was in the little things—the way you brewed his coffee just the way he liked it, the shared laughter over inside jokes, the warmth of your hand in his as you walked through the city late at night, hidden from the world. These were the moments that mattered to him, far more than any public adoration or recognition.

Megumi's commitment to keeping your relationship private wasn’t just about maintaining his image—it was about preserving the sanctity of what you both had built together. The love you shared was too precious, too delicate, to be exposed to the scrutiny and speculation that came with fame. He wanted to protect it, to keep it safe from the prying eyes and intrusive questions that would inevitably come if your relationship became public knowledge.

In those rare instances when the pressure of the media became overwhelming, and the rumors started to swirl, you both found solace in the understanding that this was your choice. The secrecy wasn’t a burden but a conscious decision to prioritize each other over the demands of the world outside.

Megumi knew that one day, when the time was right, he would be ready to share his happiness with the world. But until then, he was content with the quiet, intimate life you shared—one that was filled with love, trust, and the unspoken understanding that you were both in this together, no matter what.

Fushiguro Megumi thought of this bubble as something sacred, a secret he held close, not meant for the public but for himself alone. It was his way of preserving the tenderness and intimacy of what you shared, a private world far removed from the demands and expectations of his public life.

If anyone took a closer look, they might notice the subtle signs—the small but significant traces of you woven into his daily routine. The Polaroids tucked into the inner pocket of his coat when he traveled were a tangible connection to you, a reminder of moments that were too precious to be left behind. These photos, capturing the essence of your time together, were his silent companions on the road, offering comfort and a sense of closeness no matter how far away he was.

Then there was the worn edge of the photo he kept in his wallet, a picture he glimpsed every time he paid for his usual iced Americano. The photo, though small, held a world of memories within its faded colors—a candid shot of you laughing, the kind of smile that made his heart feel lighter even on the toughest days. This simple act of seeing your face, even in passing, grounded him, reminding him of the life you had together beyond the stage and the spotlight.

During his live broadcasts, there was yet another clue—another Polaroid placed on his nightstand, visible only to those who looked closely. To the casual observer, it might seem like just another photo, but to Megumi, it was a piece of home, a visual anchor to the life he cherished with you. This photo was a quiet declaration, a subtle hint at the love that defined his private world, even if he chose not to speak of it aloud.

Each of these small, deliberate choices was Megumi’s way of carrying you with him, of keeping you close even when you were apart. It was a way of acknowledging your presence in his life without exposing it to the world, preserving the purity of what you shared. In this carefully constructed bubble, you were safe, your love shielded from the chaos and noise of the outside world. And for Megumi, that was all that mattered.

To the world, he was enigmatic, but in the quiet moments away from the cameras, Megumi’s heart was unmistakably yours. And he absolutely loved it. He adored having to see these polaroids, the ones only for his eyes and be reminded that you took them for him. Each one had notes behind it — the date it was taken, the place it was taken and unique declarations of love from you. One after the other. Only for him to see.

It’s not that Megumi wants to keep you a secret—far from it. He dreams of the day when he can hold your hand in public, fingers intertwined without a second thought, and kiss you on the street, feeling the world fade away as his lips meet yours. He imagines looking up during a performance and spotting you in the VIP box, your face beaming with pride as you cheer him on, your presence a source of strength.

But he knows you’re not ready for that step yet. And he gets it, truly he does. Being public together is a huge deal, something that would bring your relationship under the intense scrutiny of fans and the media. The thought of everyone speculating, commenting, dissecting every interaction between the two of you—it overwhelms you. And Megumi loves you too much, loves you too much to ever subject you to something that could hurt you.

So he waits, never pressuring, always patient. He works hard to ensure you know how much he loves you, showing it in the quiet moments, in the little things he does just for you. He’s there for you in ways that matter most, understanding your needs, your boundaries. And you know that, feel that love in every glance, every touch, every word he doesn’t need to say.

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SOMETIMES, YOU THINK THAT YOU AREN’T GOOD ENOUGH FOR HIM. You know you really shouldn’t even be thinking that. But It was really hard not to think that. Even little things like this, being able to be together, he’ll make it possible. Just to be with you, he’ll move every schedule he has around. You watched him intently as he prepared for song rehearsals, the familiar rhythm of the venue buzzing around you.

Both of you had been invited to perform at the same song festival—two stars in your own right, each with a dedicated following and a unique presence on stage. Yet, despite the individual paths you had carved in the industry, there was an undeniable connection between you, something that always seemed to draw you closer, even in the vast world of music and fame.

The festival was a high-profile event, a convergence of talent and star power, where each performance was eagerly anticipated by fans and critics alike. You were no exception; your name alone was enough to generate buzz, your performance a highlight on the festival's lineup. But this time, there was something more personal, more intimate at stake.

His stage was scheduled right after yours, a coincidence that felt almost too perfect to be real. It provided you with the perfect opportunity to linger behind after your set, slipping into the shadows to watch him perform without drawing too much attention.

It wasn’t unusual for artists to stay and support their peers, but for you, it was more than just professional courtesy—it was a chance to savor the moments you had together, to see him in his element, knowing that soon, he would be gone, and the time you had now would be all you could hold on to for a while.

Megumi had only decided to attend the festival because he knew you would be there. The invitation had come at a time when his schedule was already packed with album promotions and interviews, and truthfully, he could have declined without anyone questioning his decision.

But the thought of spending even a few hours in the same space as you, of sharing the stage at the same event, was enough to make him rearrange his plans. It was rare for your paths to cross like this, and he wasn’t about to let the opportunity slip by.

The festival was not just a performance but a brief, precious reprieve from the hectic lives you both led. It was a chance to be together, to share a moment that was yours alone, even if it was in the midst of flashing lights and roaring crowds. The fact that you were both attending had turned what might have been just another event into something special, something you both looked forward to with a mix of excitement and bittersweet anticipation.

Because after the festival, there would be rehearsals, and then he would be off again, flying halfway across the world to promote his album. It was the nature of your lives, always moving, always in demand, but it didn’t make the goodbyes any easier. You knew that once he left, it would be weeks, maybe even months, before you could see each other again. The distance would stretch between you, filled with phone calls and texts, but it wasn’t the same as being together, as feeling his presence beside you.

Megumi was focused, his expression serious as he adjusted his in-ear monitor, the slight furrow in his brow showing his concentration. For a brief moment, his gaze shifted, landing on you. There was a quiet acknowledgment in his eyes, a connection that needed no words. You couldn’t help but smile, the simple act of being there for him filling you with warmth.

He caught the smile, and something softened in his features, though he quickly averted his gaze as the stage director’s voice echoed through the space, calling for attention. Megumi turned his focus back to the task at hand, but you knew that brief exchange had said everything it needed to.

In truth, it weighed on you—the thought that Megumi was always the one making adjustments, bending and reshaping his life around you. You couldn’t help but think it was unfair to him, that relationships were supposed to be a two-way street. Yet, here he was, always the one who seemed to be giving more, doing everything he could to be with you.

When you were upset and didn’t want to talk, he’d still reach out, calling you even in the middle of his hectic workday just to make sure you were okay. When you were sick, no matter how busy his schedule was, Megumi was always the first one by your side, taking care of you with a quiet devotion that left you both comforted and conflicted.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t doing enough to reciprocate the love he so freely gave. It gnawed at you, a constant reminder that no matter how much you loved him, it felt like you were falling short. And that hurt—hurt because you loved him so much, and the thought of him always giving more than he received felt like a wound you couldn’t heal. You wanted to do better, to be better for him, because he deserved nothing less.

That feeling lingered, a quiet ache that settled deep in your chest every time you thought about how much Megumi gave and how little you felt you were able to return. He never complained, never once made you feel like you were a burden. If anything, he seemed happiest when he was with you, when he could be there for you. But that only made it harder to bear, because it felt like you were taking advantage of his kindness, his patience, his love.

You wanted to be the one to call him during a tough day, to show up unexpectedly and take care of him when he needed it most. You wanted to be the one making the sacrifices, the adjustments, to show him that your love for him was just as strong, just as unwavering. But every time you tried, it felt like your efforts fell short, like you couldn’t quite match the depth of his care.

The guilt was a constant shadow, always reminding you of how much he did for you. And no matter how many times he told you that it was enough just to be with you, that he didn’t need anything more than your presence, the doubt remained. Because deep down, you knew how much he meant to you, how deeply you loved him, and the thought of not being able to show that love in the way he deserved made your heart ache.

You resolved, quietly and firmly, to find a way to show him—to let him know just how much he meant to you. Because loving Megumi was the easiest thing in the world, but making sure he felt loved the way he made you feel was something you were determined to do, no matter how long it took. He deserved nothing less, and you would do everything in your power to make sure he knew it.

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IT WAS UNCOMFORTABLE TO SIT THERE AT THAT MOMENT. The ride home was quiet, the hum of the car engine the only sound filling the space between you and Megumi. The silence was thick, not with anger or resentment, but with the weight of unspoken emotions.

You sat beside him, staring out the window, lost in your thoughts. The city lights blurred as they passed by, each one a fleeting reminder of the moments that had slipped through your fingers—moments where you felt you hadn’t done enough, where you had fallen short as his partner.

The guilt gnawed at you, growing heavier with each passing mile. It was the little things that lingered in your mind, the times when you were too tired to ask about his day, when you were preoccupied with your own worries and missed the subtle signs of his struggles.

You replayed the conversations where you had said the right words but lacked the sincerity behind them, or the moments when you were present physically but your mind was elsewhere, distracted by the pressures of your own life.

You stole a glance at Megumi, hoping for some indication of what he was feeling, but his expression remained unreadable. His hands gripped the steering wheel, his focus seemingly on the road ahead, yet you knew his thoughts were likely miles away. You wondered if he, too, was wrestling with his own thoughts, if he was questioning your connection, or if he noticed the same cracks you did.

The guilt weighed on you like a leaden blanket, stifling the words you wanted to say but couldn’t find the courage to voice. You wanted to apologize, to explain that your distance wasn’t a reflection of your love for him, but rather your own struggles—struggles that had nothing to do with him but had somehow seeped into the space between you. But the words remained trapped in your throat, swallowed by the fear of making things worse.

As the car continued its journey, the silence grew more oppressive, filling the space where once there had been easy conversation and shared laughter. You could feel the distance between you, not just physical but emotional, a chasm that seemed to widen with every unspoken thought, every missed opportunity to connect.

Megumi, ever perceptive, noticed your silence. The way you stared out the window, lost in your thoughts, didn’t escape him. He knew you well enough to recognize when something was weighing on you, even if you didn’t voice it. The quiet between you wasn’t the comfortable silence you usually shared; it was heavy, filled with the unspoken tension that had settled in the car like a third passenger.

He glanced over at you, his eyes softening as he took in your expression—the slight furrow of your brow, the way your lips were pressed into a thin line. He could sense the turmoil swirling inside you, even if he didn’t fully understand its cause. Megumi had always been good at reading between the lines, at noticing the subtle shifts in your mood, and this time was no different. He could tell that something was off, that you were shouldering a burden you hadn’t shared with him.

His voice was gentle as he broke the silence, careful not to startle you from your reverie. “Why don’t you stay the night at my place?” he suggested, his tone laced with a warmth that he hoped would ease some of the tension you were feeling. “I’ll cook for you.”

He offered you a small, reassuring smile, trying to coax you out of your thoughts, to remind you that you didn’t have to carry whatever it was alone. Megumi knew that sometimes, all it took was a simple gesture to bring you back to the present, to help you feel grounded again. And cooking for you, spending time together in the quiet comfort of his home, was something he hoped would do just that.

“And then we could watch a movie,” he added, his smile growing a little wider, a bit more playful as he tried to lighten the mood. “I know you wanted to see a film recently, and I finally bought the CD for it.”

His offer was more than just an invitation to spend the night; it was his way of showing you that he cared, that he was there for you, even when words failed. Megumi knew you well enough to understand that sometimes, the best way to show his support wasn’t through grand gestures or deep conversations, but through the simple act of being there, of sharing a meal, a movie, a quiet evening together.

He hoped that by offering this, he could help ease the guilt he sensed you were feeling. He didn’t want you to think you had fallen short as his partner because, in his eyes, you never had.

Fushiguro Megumi had always valued the quiet, unspoken moments between you—the shared silences, the comfort of your presence, the way you understood each other without needing to say much. And tonight, he wanted to remind you of that, to let you know that no matter what was weighing on your mind, you didn’t have to face it alone.

As he waited for your response, his hand reached out to gently touch yours, a silent promise that he was there for you, no matter what. The warmth of his fingers against your skin was a quiet reassurance, a reminder that in the midst of all your doubts and worries, you had someone who loved you, who would always be by your side, ready to lift the weight of the world off your shoulders, even if just for a little while.

You looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes making the guilt even harder to bear. “I’m sorry, Megumi.” you started, your voice wavering as you spoke.

He furrowed his brow, turning his full attention to you. “Why are you apologizing?” he asked, his tone full of concern. “You don’t need to–”

You hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “I… I’ve been an inadequate partner to you.” you confessed, your voice heavy with emotion. “It’s not fair to you, Megumi. You’ve done so much, and I feel like I haven’t done enough in return.”

Megumi let out a soft sigh, shaking his head as he reached over to take your hand in his. “Don’t think like that, hm?” he said gently, his thumb brushing against your knuckles in a soothing gesture. “You’re always worthy of love, of my love. You’ve done well to love me too, you know?”

“But it’s true!” you insisted, your voice cracking as the weight of your feelings pressed down on you. “I feel like I’m always taking, and you’re always giving. It’s not fair to you.”

Megumi was quiet for a moment, his gaze steady and thoughtful. Then, he asked quietly, “Do you love me?”

The question took you by surprise, but you nodded without hesitation. “Of course, I do. I love you more than anything.”

Before you could say more, he cut you off, his voice firm yet tender. “Then love me anyway.” he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’ll love you like that too. But in my way. Okay?”

The simplicity of his words hit you with unexpected force, the sincerity behind them bringing tears to your eyes. Your Megumi always knows what to do. He knows how to reach you, to calm you down. To love you back to life. He reached up, wiping away the tears that had begun to fall, his touch gentle and full of affection.

“Don’t worry so much about what you think you should be doing.” Megumi continued, his voice soft and reassuring. “Just love me, and let me love you. That’s all that matters.”

His words wrapped around your heart, easing the guilt and replacing it with a deep sense of peace. You leaned into his touch, nodding as you let his words sink in, knowing that with him, it was enough just to be.

You leaned into Megumi's touch, feeling the warmth of his hand against your cheek as he gently wiped away your tears. His presence was soothing, a quiet strength that you could always rely on, and in that moment, the weight of your worries began to lift, even if just a little.

Megumi pulled you closer, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he held you against him. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was a comforting anchor, grounding you in the moment. He didn’t say anything more, allowing the silence to fill with the unspoken understanding between you.

As the car continued down the quiet streets, Megumi rested his chin on top of your head, his fingers tracing calming patterns on your arm. “You don’t have to be anything more than who you are, okay?” he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you for you—not for what you think you should be.”

His words, so simple yet so full of meaning, resonated deep within you. The guilt that had been weighing you down began to fade, replaced by a warmth that spread through your chest. Megumi had always been like this—steady, unwavering in his love, never asking for more than you could give.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax into his embrace, feeling the tension leave your body as you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with him. “I just want to make you happy, Megumi.” you whispered, your voice tinged with emotion.

“And you already do.” Megumi replied without hesitation, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Just being with you makes me happy.”

His sincerity brought another wave of tears, but this time, they were tears of relief, of gratitude. You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your heart swelling with love for the man who held you so tenderly, who accepted you with all your flaws and insecurities.

“Thank you, Megumi.” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly as the emotions overwhelmed you. “Thank you for loving me.”

Megumi’s eyes softened, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment. “You don’t need to thank me, you know?” he murmured against your skin. “I love you because it’s you. And nothing will ever change that.”

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes searching yours, filled with an affection that made your heartache in the best way possible. “We’ll figure everything out together, okay?” he said softly. “We don’t have to have all the answers right now. As long as we’re together, that’s all that matters.”

You nodded, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through the tears. “Okay.” you agreed, your voice steadier now. “Together.”

Megumi smiled back at you, a look of pure love and reassurance in his eyes. “Together.” he echoed, pulling you back into his arms, holding you close.

⋆⑅˚₊. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

epilogue

A few weeks had passed since that quiet ride home, and in that time, something had shifted between you and Megumi. The weight of your insecurities had eased, replaced by a growing confidence in the love you shared. You found yourself cherishing the little moments even more—the quiet exchanges, the smiles, the unspoken understanding that connected you both.

One evening, after one of Megumi's performances, you found yourself backstage, watching as he wrapped up his set. The energy in the room was electric, the audience’s cheers still echoing as Megumi made his way off the stage. He spotted you immediately, his eyes lighting up as he walked over. Without a word, you reached for him, pulling him into a kiss, a moment of pure connection amidst the chaos around you. A friend snapped a quick Polaroid of the two of you, capturing the tenderness of the moment.

Later that night, as you looked at the photo, an idea came to you. You carefully positioned the Polaroid against a backdrop of Megumi’s stage gear, the memory of that kiss still fresh in your mind. With a smile, you snapped a picture of the Polaroid and opened your social media, ready to share this piece of your world with him—and everyone else.

The caption came naturally: "Here's more Polaroids for you to hide." It was a playful nod to the many photos Megumi had tucked away over the months, small tokens of your relationship that he kept close even when the world wasn’t looking.

You hesitated for a moment before hitting ‘post,’ but something in you felt ready—ready to share this part of your life, ready to take that next step with him.

It didn’t take long for Megumi to see the post. Almost immediately, he shared his own Instagram story, adding his own words beneath your caption: "Only if you let me love you anyway."

His words were simple, but they carried the weight of everything you both had gone through, every doubt, every moment of reassurance, every bit of love that had brought you to this point.

You smiled as you read his response, feeling a warmth spread through you. It was a promise, a reminder of the love you shared, a love that was strong enough to weather anything.

And as the notifications began to roll in, the world catching a glimpse of the two of you together, you felt at peace. Because you knew, no matter what came next, you had each other. And that was enough.

As soon as you posted the Polaroids on your Instagram, the reaction on social media was immediate. Especially on Twitter. Fans of both you and Megumi began flooding the comments with a mix of excitement, surprise, and overwhelming support.

Fan 1: "Wait, are they… official now? My heart can't take this! 😭❤️"

Fan 2: "These Polaroids are so cute! Megumi must be over the moon!"

Fan 3: "I knew something was going on! They’re perfect together. Look at that smile in the last photo!"

Fan 4: "This is the content we've been waiting for! I can't believe it's finally happening!"

Fan 5: "Only if you let me love you anyway" — Fushiguro Megumi, you romantic! 😍"

As you scrolled through the comments, your phone buzzed with an incoming call from Megumi. You know he must be excited. More than he would let on to show. And you knew only you would know. You answered with a smile, hearing the familiar warmth in his voice.

"You saw the post, huh?" you teased.

"I did, I did." Megumi replied, his voice soft but filled with emotion. "I wasn’t expecting you to share those photos just yet. But I want you to know that I’m really glad you did. I finally get to love you in front of everyone.”

"Yeah, I know." you admitted, your heart fluttering. "I just… I wanted to take that step with you. I’m ready, Megumi. Don’t worry. Just let me love you the way you deserve, okay?”

There was a brief pause on the other end, and you could almost picture the gentle smile on Megumi's face. "You already do love me. But let’s keep taking polaroids for me to hide, okay? I still want some things that are just for me, from you.”

You laughed, feeling a wave of affection for him. "I wouldn’t have it any other way."

“I love you.” He whispers on the other side of the line.

You smile, feeling butterflies. “I love you too.”

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toournextadventure · 2 months

Text

everyone but her pt.43

Summary: Wednesday knows she'll discover the killer. She will end this string of disasters. Even if it's the last thing she'll ever do.

Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: swearing, blood, canon typical violence Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader A/N: This has maybe two or three allusions to the one-shot revenge, but it's not required to read before this chapter. (Masterlist)

The summer air was starting to give way to fall in the most minuscule of ways. Heat still enveloped the atmosphere, leaving you miserable and sticky with a sheen layer of sweat. Wednesday liked seeing you with a layer of sweat covering your skin. It was attractive in a primal way that she wouldn’t dare be ashamed of. The only thing she didn’t like was your attitude.

Which had only gotten worse since the charity event.

You weren’t unkind, not intentionally. It was evident in the guilt written across your face whenever you snapped at someone or something. Not too long ago, you had snapped at Wednesday after she had asked to assist you with making dinner. She had stood her ground as you berated her, saying you were “more than capable of cooking on my own, I’m not inept.” No sooner had the words left your lips had you turned to face her with tears in your eyes.

Of course you had apologised instantly, incessantly. Never had you said something to her with the intent to injure. Not unless you were already hurting over something you had yet to talk with her about. She knew this, knew your insecurity with emotions. After all, she was learning along with you, and it was no easy journey.

But those very instances were what led Wednesday to struggle with figuring out how best to assist you. Nights passed where you were found unconscious on the couch, all the lights on and the television still playing. It was usually something childish; a technique you and Enid shared in common to disallow the nightmares from reappearing.

Even when Wednesday attempted to stay awake with you, insisting she preferred your company, the nightmares prevailed. Or perhaps they weren’t nightmares, but intrusive thoughts. She could hear you mumbling to yourself, both conscious and not, arguing with someone who wasn’t there. If you finally managed to sleep, you twitched and whined and cried.

Initially, she had believed you were talking to Nicky; she remembered when you had told her you could still see him. For a long while, she had believed that was who you were talking to. She knew siblings bickered and fought, it wasn’t too unusual. After all, she and Pugsley fought as well, it was quite common.

She wasn’t so confident in her beliefs after the fire.

You were more on edge, jumping at the slightest of noises. And after the charity, your reactions had gotten worse. If you were unaware of her presence, you talked in a normal tone, arguing with whoever you could see. Or perhaps you didn’t see anyone at all; after all, you weren’t a Seer. Whatever was inside your head, she had no idea. All she knew was it was slowly driving you insane, and she couldn’t help.

I’m scared, you had said once. I don’t think I’m alone in my mind. She had asked her mother what it could mean, but she had no concrete answers. And it wasn’t like she could very well ask you, seeing as you were unaware of what was going on as well.

The only saving grace through the entire summer was Eugene graduating from Nevermore and getting accepted into the same university they all attended. For the first time in years, Wednesday saw you smile effortlessly. You had instantly invited Eugene out for a night, and he had eagerly accepted. She enjoyed seeing you happy. If she had known all those years ago that her forcing you to hang out with Eugene would have led to this sort of friendship, she would have never believed it.

“Don’t go into the woods,” Wednesday said when you grabbed your keys by the door.

“Why?” You asked.

Images flashed in her mind of the woods. The two people from her last vision were standing there in their own blood, looking directly into her soul. Surely her visions didn’t always come true. Whatever the case, she wouldn’t let this one come to pass.

“Every time you two have gone into the woods, you’ve come home injured,” she said instead without an ounce of hesitation.

“The first time was a full moon, and the second was a freak accident,” you argued, entirely too stubborn to accept defeat so easily. “We’re a perfect duo.”

“A perfect duo of tomfoolery,” she said.

You smiled. “I like that word,” you whispered. “But quit worrying, we’re just going to get coffee.”

“In town?”

“No, in the forest,” you chimed back. Wednesday turned just enough to give you the look she knew you hated. “Of course it’s in town, love,” you chuckled.

She turned back to face the overly large Investigation Board you had bought for the apartment. Though she loved her original one, it was hard to deny she had needed the extra space. Information came to light almost faster than she could keep up with, and her one board had long since become crowded. With your new addition, she could continue to investigate without any worries.

Boots hit the ground lightly, getting closer until an arm snaked around her waist. It used to startle her, sending her pulse skyrocketing before she remembered who it was. Now, it was a comfort. Your warmth scorched its way to her soul, and the silent possessiveness of the act was not lost on her. It was a character trait you had picked up after the gala. She wasn’t upset about it.

“We’ll be safe,” you said softly, your breath brushing against the shell of her ear. “My phone is charged this time.”

“Is Eugene’s?” She asks.

“Let me check,” you said. Behind her, you shifted to your other foot and leaned down to her other ear. “Yeah, it’s good.”

She knew you didn’t check.

“No unplanned excursions without prior warning,” she said. Demanded. Pleaded. It was humiliating.

But when she thought of the two previous instances you had been caught in the woods with Eugene - three, if she included when you had gone with Yoko - she lost any care about how she sounded. Too many times she had seen you on the brink of either death or mental anguish. Or both. If pleading for you to be careful was humiliating, then she would put her pride aside for the time being.

“If we do something else, I’ll call,” you said.

“If I do not answer?”

“I’ll call Enid,” you answered immediately.

Good. She had trained you well.

“Inform Eugene that I said hello,” she said.

“Yes ma’am,” you said.

Behind her, you shifted, pulling her back into you ever so slightly. Not enough to disrupt her train of thought - though you had done that already - simply to get her attention. Warm lips pressed lightly to the back of her neck and, not for the first nor last time, she thought of how unusual the comfort was.

Perhaps you had made her into her mother after all.

Oh. Oh, that was a horrific thought.

“We’ll go over the board when I get back?” You asked when you stepped away and made your way to the door.

“I’ll have my findings in bullet points,” she said without turning to face you.

“Sounds good, I'll be back!” You called out. Far louder than necessary, but that was rather typical.

Wednesday didn’t answer. Which, quite frankly, was also rather typical. She was too focused on trying to find out how to get you unconnected from the list of suspects. Of course, she knew you weren’t the one that had attacked those fraternity boys, or your therapist, or Ash and Joel. She knew, because you had told her you hadn’t.

Perhaps it was foolish to believe a suspect, but she trusted you implicitly.

Which left her feeling at a loss for new leads.

Your mother’s words echoed in her head. This curse prevailed long before Nicholas. Surely that hadn’t just been a threat. There wasn’t much that she knew about your mother, but she did know the woman was calculating. Raised in a higher society that valued cold precision over reckless action.

Was it a genuine curse? She was well aware of them, Grandmama Addams had taught her everything she knew. Her mother had taught her everything she knew. If it was a genuine curse, there would be some way to break it. Perhaps, if she talked with your mother, she could learn the nature of your downfall and reverse it.

The thought of something surrounding you, enveloping you in chaos and distress was unsettling. Wednesday was well versed in chaos and distress, she craved it, actively sought after it even. But when it involved you? She had seen your troubles enough over the years she had known you, she knew you didn’t need any help from outside forces.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to talk with your mother after all. Would you hate her terribly for it? Surely not, she was doing it for you, after all. If it could help you have a normal life like you wished, then there would be no problem at all. You just needed to trust her.

Now all she needed to do was find a time to make it happen.

“Hey Wil-,” Wednesday turned quickly to see Enid stopped in the doorway, “-um, ew.”

Of course. The Investigation Board.

“Finding any answers?” Enid asked as she precariously entered the apartment.

Wednesday huffed. “No.” Her arms sat crossed over her chest. “Though I have a list of suspects.”

“Is your girlfriend anywhere on that list?” Enid asked cautiously with hands clasped tightly behind her back.

“Of course not,” she said quickly. “Why would she be?”

“Well.” Enid let the end of the word drag out. “Okay listen,” she sighed. “You know I totes love her to death.” Wednesday nodded once. “But don’t you think it’s a little suspicious that everything happening seems to revolve around her?”

Well, she didn’t like that train of thought one bit.

“All of her whereabouts have been accounted for since everything started,” Wednesday defended.

“Have they?” Enid asked. “No one knew for sure where she was when Mac was murdered.”

“At the shop, there were cameras.”

“That weren’t working,” Enid said quickly.

“I was by her side the entire fraternity party.”

“Until you went to round everybody up.”

“We were together when we discovered the murders of her parents’ acquaintances.”

“How about before they were discovered?”

Wednesday opened her mouth to argue. Of course she had been with you the entire time. Where else would you have been if not by her side? It wasn’t like you would simply run away, commit a murder, and come back like nothing had ever happened. Besides, every new murder had seemed to shock you, and you weren’t a good actor. She would have noticed if it wasn’t genuine.

Her mouth slowly fell closed. She supposed you had left before at least one of the murders. Or… all of them. No, that was impossible, you couldn’t have done such a thing. You had been gone for reasonable times, and never unaccounted for. Even if you hadn’t told Wednesday personally, you had told someone else. There was no possibility that it was you.

“I mean, she did kill those Canadian guys when she was younger,” Enid said with a shrug.

Wednesday did her best to push the thought of her mind. As usual.

“Have you found anything useful?” Enid asked softly, changing the train of thought either nary a hitch.

Wednesday turned to face her. “Do you truly wish to know?”

She hummed and nodded.

Not that there was much to tell. Wednesday went over the knife wounds, and the attempt to blame a werewolf (which she was, appropriately so, angry about). About the possibilities of a siren, or shapeshifter, or who knew what else (you had both agreed it was still up in the air). Everything she knew, she informed Enid of.

Much to her surprise, Enid didn’t faint at the autopsy photos.

“Are they even still out there?” Enid asked as she stepped closer, her shoulder brushing gently against Wednesday’s. “It’s been a while since the last one.”

“The family house burned down only a few months ago.”

“Well yeah, that was weird, but I mean the murders,” Enid said. “We technically can’t say if the two were related.”

“They’re out there,” Wednesday said definitively.

A phone vibrated on the small dining table. She left Enid to look at the board as she picked the phone up. Anxiety bubbled up into her chest at your name, but when she swiped the phone open and read the message, it eased.

“Everything okay?” Enid asked.

“Y/N and Eugene are going to lunch with Devan and Casey,” Wednesday said as she placed the phone back on the table.

“I’m glad they all get to hang out,” Enid said as she finally placed herself on the couch. It only took her a moment to find the remote and put something on the television.

As am I, Wednesday thought before situating herself beside Enid. She was elated that you were hanging out with Eugene again. You had sighed and moaned about missing Eugene more times than she could count. You had both talked on the phone plenty of times and played your silly little games together, but it wasn’t the same. Or so you said, she believed it was rather similar.

Though she could have done without you seeing Casey and Devan. They were most certainly on her list of suspects.

Enid didn’t stay long; a bit unusual for her, though it was a full moon later so it could be excused. Her absence, along with yours, left the apartment quiet. Cold. An unusual situation to be stuck in. Wednesday wondered when she had started to rely on your presence to make the living space feel complete.

Her eyes trailed away from the television. Your things were so interspersed with hers that she was unsure what belonged to who. That dagger on the shelf had belonged to her, but you had stolen it at Nevermore, and now it sat wedged perfectly between a handmade mug and an old Addams vial of poison. An heirloom if ever there was one.

If one were to open the closet, one would assume it was split perfectly in half. Wednesday’s dark wardrobe in contrast to your carefree, occasionally bright and colourful one. Yet that’s not what they would find. They would find black mixed with colour, items not belonging to one person but to you both. With the exception of a few items that didn’t fit the other, everything was shared amongst you both.

Though she had fought the idea at first there were even… photographs hanging around the apartment. She knew of the paintings in the Addams family home, all of her ancestors. But this was different. To know she was in the photographs with you, together, showing the most vulnerable of emotions around you. It was solidified in a physical manifestation, laid bare for the world to see. Or the photographs you had taken without her knowledge, of her and the friend group and your family and her family. It lit a fire in her chest that she had initially thought was horrific.

She was wrong.

As much as she despised the thought, she wondered if her mother had seen such a thing happening. Had she predicted that you would be so intertwined in Wednesday’s life? That if someone wished to see you separated, they would have to surgically remove each part with inhuman precision.

And she found a surprising amount of joy in that fact.

Wednesday found herself still staring at those pictures when the door to the apartment opened. There you stood, bags in your hands and an unusually serene look on your face. She liked seeing you come back to the apartment. To home. Your shared home. She wished to have you come home to her every night for the rest of your lives.

“Are you okay?” You asked as you closed the door behind you.

Wednesday hesitated. “Of course,” she said, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s your writing time,” you said with a head gesture toward the typewriter.

Of course. She had nearly forgotten you cared enough to remember - and respect - her schedule. Something you had done from the moment you met her, and yet it still surprised her. Though she was stuck in her own determinations, she should have realised then that you were different. Special.

“I'm quite content to skip my writing time today,” Wednesday said.

You smiled. “Too busy with the Board?”

She hummed in response. It was better for you to believe she was investigating. As soft as you had made her over the years, she didn't have the humility to inform you of her actual actions throughout the day. To tell you she had done nothing but think of your life together.

“Oh,” you said from the kitchen, “I brought dinner!”

It wasn’t even nearing the proximity of dinner time.

You reappeared with empty hands. “Chung had a few pickup orders that were never picked up,” you explained as you walked toward the couch. “Eugene took some home and I gave some to Ash since, you know, she claims I’m going to get her killed.”

You fell onto the couch, and your hand instinctively went to her knee. The skin on your palms was unbearably rough and calloused. From years of use, whether it be climbing or carpentry or helping your family, your skin was what she could consider “worn.” Yet when you touched her, all she could feel was the gentleness underneath the rough exterior. The love and care you put into every movement around her.

She stiffened. There. This softness was the perfect motivation to ease whatever curse had been laid upon you.

“Did you give any to Joel?” She asked. You tilted your head. “Since the same argument can be used for both him and Ash.”

“I’m not gonna get him killed,” you mumbled. Even softer, “he wasn’t home.”

Wednesday nodded in answer. Silence enveloped the room as you both sat on the couch and looked off into nothing. Something was playing on the television, but she couldn’t have said what. The sound was down so truly, it didn’t matter. Your fingers rubbed gentle circles on the inside of her knee.

Your head tilted once, then again.

“Is it morbid that we have pictures of dead bodies in our living room?” You asked.

She looked back at the Investigation Board taking over a good portion of the living room. It was quite the anomaly to most people, she would admit. Since Nevermore, Enid would always faint and the others would comment. None of it mattered to her, of course, but it was an undeniable fact.

You had never said anything negative.

“I believe it’s quite acceptable,” she finally said.

You nodded subconsciously. “My thoughts exactly.” Your shoulders sagged with a sigh. “Whatcha wanna do now?”

With a turn of her head, she looked out the window. Clearly she had misjudged the time, as the sun was starting to make its decent to the ground. Still bright, leaving a column of light on the floor, but fading second by second. It was a calming sight, to watch the sun start to set from the comfort of her living room. Your living room.

The idea was bold. She didn’t care.

“I would like to bathe,” she said. Her eyes met yours. “With you.”

Your smile met your eyes. “I’ll go start the bath.”

Without time to say a word, you practically jumped from the couch and ran to the bathroom. Always so eager, she thought as she stood. You were rummaging around in the bathroom before the faucet squeaked and water rushed into the tub. What were you looking for? Had you found it? Her questions internal questions about you were endless.

“Don’t come in yet,” you called out through the still-open door.

You had a plan, that much was obvious. She loved when you had plans; more often than not, they failed. There was something enjoyable about your failed plans. It made them more realistic. Not because you weren’t good at planning, but because you simply planned bigger than life.

Her feet carried her to the bedroom while you continued to shuffle around out of her sight. The closet doors eased open and Wednesday lowered herself to her knees. There, in the back right corner of the closet - in what had originally been her side - was a pair of boots that often went unworn. A small black box sat in the left boot, shoved into the toe behind a rolled-up pair of socks.

Small fingers gently pulled it from its cave before opening the top. And there, in the middle of the box, was a ring. A ring that she had gotten from her mother, who had gotten it from her mother, and the list went on farther than she could accurately remember. Just a simple silver band with a black stone in the middle; simple, efficient, comfortable.

Your humming floated into the bedroom before reaching Wednesday’s ears. She hadn’t heard you do that in months, if not longer. Something you only did when you were relaxed. Safe. An unknown song that you were probably making up on the spot. A soothing melody that rested peacefully in her chest.

The ring would look stunning on your finger.

“Hey did you want-”

-Wednesday’s head spun to look at you standing in the doorway to the bathroom. Looking directly at the box in her hand; no, at the ring.

“Put it back,” you said quickly. What? You pointed directly at her. “Wednesday Addams, you put that back in your boot right this instant.”

She couldn’t find the words to say. What could she say? What did you mean? How did you even know she had kept the ring hidden in her boot? You practically stomped over to the closet and kneeled beside her, mirroring everything about her. Even down to the boot on your side.

You pulled out a box of identical size.

“You’ve beat me to everything,” you said as you shifted, falling further to the floor to cross your legs. “I wanted to beat you just this once.”

Between your slender fingers, you gripped the ring gently and held it up for her to see. A black band that held a white stone between thorny vines. On each side of the stone was a small metal skull with white eyes. It was macabre; perfect. How long had you saved up for such a thing?

“I was gonna ask you after graduation,” you said with a crooked smile. “Didn’t wanna distract you.”

“You are rather notorious for it,” Wednesday answered.

Your smile grew. “I found your box back when we went grave digging,” you continued. “Reminded me I needed to step up my game.”

The peaceful look on your face warmed Wednesday’s cold heart. Her mind was still running rampant with the implications. You had… taken the time and money to buy a ring? For her? After all the things she had been unable to do for you? You still got something that solidified your feelings.

She had been - and still was, at times - unable to talk about her feelings with you. Or even listen to your own without prior warning. Time and time again she had been unable to emotionally console you because her own emotions were so far separated from the average person. She had taken her sweet time to learn how to be in any sort of relationship, even something as simple as a friendship.

And yet, that ring stayed firm between your fingers.

“I’ll wear yours if you wear mine,” you said, pulling her out of her mental spiral.

She blinked once. “Is that a proposal?” She asked. “I don’t believe this would be considered romantic.”

“I have a plan for later, I promise,” you chuckled as you held the ring out to her. “But now I’m kind of excited.”

Something stuck in her throat to prevent her from voicing a similar opinion. Instead, she simply held the ring out for you to take as well. Your smile was almost contagious, leaving her with spiders in her stomach. An almost forgotten feeling, but she wouldn’t wish for anything else.

Surprisingly, by some grace of the Addams ancestors, both rings fit perfectly.

“So do I get to be an Addams now?” You asked.

You were happy. You were excited at the prospect of being an Addams. To be part of her family in every way possible. The sight of your joy at being one of them left a feeling in her chest that she couldn’t explain. Something that spiderwebbed across every nerve and blood vessel in her body.

It was too much emotion for her. She only truly knew of one way to dispel such feelings. You were still looking at the Addams family ring on your finger. Her hand - adorned with a ring of its own - reached out and grabbed you by the collar of your shirt. She leaned forward as she pulled you into a kiss.

Your lips were uncharacteristically soft. Surely you had been using the chapstick everyone continued to gift you time and time again. Not that Wednesday cared, she simply enjoyed the feel of your lips against hers. It went no further, just a kiss, but it was all she wished for, all she could ever want.

Lightning struck behind her eyes. Your lips were no longer on hers, instead replaced by the warm wind of late summer. She looked around to see a familiar sight. It was becoming too familiar to her mind; talk about unsettling. There behind her stood two figures, dwarfed in comparison by a hulking creature behind them.

A creature with menacing eyes.

“Wednesday.”

Her eyes opened to see you looking at her with a concerned face. How often had she had visions in front of you? How long would it continue? She couldn’t even begin to fathom the cause of such an event. But she refused to believe it had anything to do with you.

“You’re fainting more often,” you said softly, “maybe we should take you to the hospital.”

Wednesday looked away from your face to see it was finally dark outside, the full moon hanging low in the sky.

Wait.

“We have to go,” Wednesday said quickly as she stood up from her spot and started rushing out of the apartment.

“Go where?” You called behind her, followed by a whispered “shit” as you too followed behind.

The door remained open as she ran out. Only a second or two passed before it slammed shut and your footsteps followed. Down the stairs, past Ash - who you mumbled a quick “hello” to - and out the front of the building. Far in the distance, she could hear the howl of a wolf. A wolf much larger than Enid.

“Where are we going?” You asked from somewhere behind her.

She couldn’t talk. Perhaps that was how you felt when your house was going up in flames.

Wednesday picked up the pace once she saw the woods. If she could get there in time, her vision wouldn’t come true. She could keep everyone safe. Her brisk walk turned into a run once the wolf howled again. She could get there in time.

“Wednesday, come back,” you called out.

Warm fingers wrapped around her upper arm, pulling her to a stop. She was forced to spin her body to face you. Vaguely, far away from her thoughts, she could feel the ring pressing into her skin. It was comforting; you were actually wearing it. You were an Addams.

“What’s going-”

-a familiar howl echoed through the woods.

“Enid?” You asked.

Both your eyes went wide.

“Okay, go,” you said as you took off into the woods, pulling Wednesday along behind you.

It was unintentional, but she always forgot how fast you could be. Her feet barely touched the ground with your speed, and if your wings had been out, she swore you would have been airborne. Even with your shirt covering the harness, your wings twitched underneath the cloth, begging to be set free.

Her body slammed into yours when you pulled up to a stop.

“Oh shit,” you whispered.

Wednesday looked around you to see the realisation of her vision. On the ground was Eugene, covered in dark liquid that continued to pour from wounds across his chest. Enid’s wolf stood over him, splotches of red in her otherwise blonde fur. Opposite her was a wolf.

A familiar wolf.

“That’s the bastard who got me at Nevermore,” you huffed.

“How can you tell?” Wednesday asked while you took your shirt off and started undoing the harness.

“I left that scar on his shoulder,” you said with a frown. “Help Eugene.”

If you had given her time, she would have argued with you. Told you to stay put, not to get involved. Enid wouldn’t dare hurt you, but when two wolves were fighting, casualties were expected. You weren’t invincible like you believed you were. She told you not to even go into the woods earlier, you most certainly weren’t supposed to be fighting werewolves.

But she couldn’t stop you. Not when you took off into the air with a gust of wind behind you. It agitated the dirt and left a cloud behind. Each particle that went through Wednesday’s nose tickled and, if she hadn’t been so preoccupied, she would have sneezed.

Enid growled and took off, and Wednesday struggled to keep track of where everyone was. But she knew where Eugene was. Yeah, she could take care of him, that would be easy enough. She could keep her concentration long enough to help him. Not like she was worried about you.

Someone whimpered when she kneeled beside him.

“Don’t bite,” You growled.

Another animalistic scream.

She looked down at the injuries on Eugene. He seemed to be breathing just fine. That was good. The blood had soaked through his shirt, but it hadn’t pooled around him like she had been worried about. That was also good. Okay, she knew what to do. All she had to do was put her hands on the wounds and push down, it was simple.

Something ripped through flesh behind her.

The fight carried on behind her. You and Enid were putting yourselves in danger while she sat there and tried to keep her friend alive. Things were supposed to be getting easier. You were wearing an Addams ring, you weren’t supposed to be putting yourself into such needless danger. The both of you should have been in the bath, enjoying your evening together.

Eugene was still unconscious.

Something solid hit the ground.

A whimper.

Another growl.

There were too many sounds, and she couldn’t bring herself to look. Couldn’t bear to see her friends dying, to see her fiancee getting hurt. Why was it always everyone else? Why was she not the one to ever suffer? Was her punishment for existing simply to watch everyone she cared for get hurt because of her visions-

-a gunshot.

A lingering whimper that faded into the forest.

Wednesday’s dead heart was frozen as she spun around faster than she believed possible for a human. Had someone shot you? Was Enid okay? Oh gods please let Enid be okay, she already looked injured when you had both arrived in the woods.

Ash stood by the thick trunk of a tree, rifle held steady in her hands.

That hadn’t been part of her vision.

“What are you doing here?” You asked breathlessly.

From what Wednesday could see, you were standing tall. Blood dripped from your fingers, but you didn’t appear injured. Beside you, Enid was slowly turning human again. You kept your eyes on Ash, but kneeled to cover Enid with the shirt you had taken off what felt like hours ago.

“Y’all ran past me in the apartment,” Ash said calmly, lowering the rifle. “Addams doesn’t run.”

“Crazy bitch,” you mumbled as you got on the ground to replace Wednesday’s hands on Eugene’s wounds. “Thank you.”

Wednesday stood and looked at Enid. She was finally back on her feet, pulling your shirt tight around her. Blood fell from the deep claw marks on her face. Thankfully, aside from that, she seemed to be okay. As okay as she could be for a werewolf fight.

“Willa,” Enid said with a whimper.

Without hesitation, Wednesday walked forward and pulled Enid into a hug. Enid’s breath on her neck was comforting; it meant she was alive. The thoughts continued to ravage her mind. She could have lost her best friend. She could have lost everyone she cared for. Enid’s hands gripped her tighter.

As much as the thought killed her, Wednesday decided then and there what she needed to do.

She needed to talk with your mother.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday imagine #jenna ortega x reader

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cordeliawhohung · 9 months

Note

i’m the mood for hurt/comfort but feel free to ignore,

what about mafia!price with his darling wife who is experiencing postpartum depression

PPD is such a terrible thing to have to go through. i've had a few patients share their experiences with me, so a lot of what i've incorporated into this short drabble is based off of that as well as some other research i've done. it's an issue that's largely ignored in our society but thankfully is being brought into light more. if you're experiencing this, please reach for help if you're able. there might be more resources for you than you realize (: i'll provide a link to the PSI website, should anyone find themselves in need of their support!

warnings: anxiety, intrusive thoughts (fear of infant death/harm), depression, hurt/comfort, f!reader, everything's gonna be okay (:

mafia!141 masterlist

She won't stop crying.

It's been four hours and your ears are ringing from your daughter's high pitched screaming, and nothing you do seems to console her. No amount of bouncing or shushing or attempts to feed her will cease her wails, and you're convinced that someone is trying to punish you. So you pace around the living room with her in your arms as you try and drown out her sobs with the late night weather. The clock on the bottom right of the screen reads 1:17 AM.

John is still at work.

You start crying when the clock reads 1:42. There's a terrible ache and burn in your arms from holding her for so long, but the thought of putting her down makes you want to scream. You think of attempting to tuck her away in her crib, to shut the door to try and take a moment to breathe and your mind is filled with what ifs. What if she chokes? What if she stops breathing and you're not around to help her? What if you leave her there, all alone, and you come back to nothing but a stiff corpse?

No, you can't put her down, so you continue to pace the living room while you attempt to ignore the wet tears that smother your face and neck. Why is she still crying? Is it something you did? Something you didn't do? Maybe you're just incompetent as a mother, so much so that your own child is rejecting you. This squealing, writhing mass of flesh is proof that you never should have bore her at all.

Keys jingle outside of the front door at 1:56 and neither you nor the baby have calmed down the slightest bit. The door swings open and shuts quickly after, and it doesn't take John long to find his wife and child sobbing together in the living room. He looks like hell with messy hair and wrinkled clothes, but it's nothing at all compared to your tear stained face and puffy eyes.

"Oh, darling," he breathes.

He crosses the room in an instant, but before he has time to question you, you hold the baby for him to take. There's an obvious tremble in your grip, and your biceps strain and cry out from the movement. Terrified you'll drop her, you all but shove her into his chest before he has the chance to scoop her up properly.

"Take her," you say through a sob. "I can't. I can't fucking do this."

Words leave his mouth but don't quite hit your ears. They're ringing much too loud for you to pay attention to anything other than the dread eating through your stomach.

Your tears don't stop when you leave the living room, or the house for that matter. Cool air teases the still wet streaks on your face, and with your hands free you can finally wipe them clean, though it doesn't make you feel any better. The backyard looks strange at night without any lights to illuminate it, and maybe you would feel creeped out or even scared if you could find it within you to even care about yourself in that moment.

When your legs can no longer carry you, you find yourself in the grass. Perfectly manicured and kept, it makes the perfect surface for you to sit on while you sob into your hands, powerless to do anything else. Something is wrong with you. There has to be. You couldn't comfort your daughter, couldn't get her to feed, couldn't do anything but hold her and pray it would all stop.

You aren't sure what time it is when you hear footsteps approaching behind you, but you don't have to turn around to know it's John. Tears have stopped pouring down your cheeks but your sobs still shake your body. John settles on the grass next to you, and you don't bother fighting against him as he pulls you into his lap.

You want to find comfort in his arms, in the way his hands rub long stripes along your back, but deep down you know you're not worth it. A pathetic excuse for a mother, you couldn't even calm his child before he got home from a long night at work.

"What's goin' on, love?" he prompts after a while.

It takes you a moment to find your words, and an even longer time before you can stop crying long enough to get any of them out. Still, John is patient with you, and he continues to rock and hold you, comforting you in the way you couldn't comfort your child.

"I wish I was a good mother," you cried, shamefully burying your face into his neck. "I can't get her to stop crying, she won't feed- nothing I do works. I'm sorry, I just can't, I don't know what to do."

John's grip on you grows tighter as you speak, and you focus on the way his thudding heart quickens at your words. One of his hands moves to the back of your head where he holds you even closer as he rests his chin on the top of your head.

"It's not your fault," he assures softly.

"It is!" you retort. "I can't bond with her, it's like she hates me. And I'm trying so hard but I can't get through to her..."

"Darling, she's just colicky, it's not your fault," he insists.

But you can't stop crying. There's a pit of hopelessness eating you from the inside out, and the pain turns your sobs into pathetic squeaks that shatters John's heart. He gently pries you away from his chest, cotton soaked and darkened from your tears, and cradles your cheeks in his hands.

"Look at me, hey," he whispers, guiding you to look at him. "You are raising a healthy, beautiful baby girl. Our baby. Sure, she's going through a fussy streak, but that's got nothin' to do with you. It's just colic, love. She'll get through it. We'll get through it."

It's difficult to agree with him, to believe him, and your confirmation feels empty in your throat when you speak. But he's looking at you with such love, like you hung the stars or...

Or like you gave him a child.

That night, John tucks you into bed and if the baby cries, you don't hear her. He spends the night tucked away in the living room on the couch, flipping through channels on the screen while shushing his fussy daughter. Her sobs had turned into heart wrenching whimpers by that point, which isn't great but is better than nothing.

When morning comes and the dull dawn light illuminates the room, John shoves his hand into his pocket and fishes out his phone. It's nearly dead since he had been on it half the night at work and didn't have the chance to charge it when he got home, but it has enough juice for him to make a quick call.

The dial tone is loud in his ear, and his daughter lets out a small whine before quickly settling down again. Simon's voice on the other end is groggy and harsh like he has gravel stuck in his vocal chords.

"Takin' the piss outta me calling me this early in the mornin' Price," he grumbles.

"You can get your beauty rest later. I need a favor," John says, ensuring that his voice stays low so as to not stir the baby. "I need some time off."

"Time off?" Simon repeats. "From the family?"

"My girls need me."

Silence fills the line. There's the slight sound of rustling, like someone's moving sheets or a duvet.

"Take care of 'em. I'll keep your boys in line," Simon replies.

There's nothing more to say after that besides a quick thanks, and as soon as the line cuts, the baby decides she isn't quite done crying yet. John shushes her as he rocks her and sits forward in his seat, pushing himself to his feet shortly after.

"Time for breakfast, is it?" he asks. Despite the sheer exhaustion that rattles his bones, he still smiles down at his daughter even though her face is too twisted with her cries to see it. "Alright sweetie, it's okay. Papa's gonna fix you something to eat."

#mafia!price #mafia!141 #john price x reader #price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader

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lovelytsunoda · 11 months

Text

954 // logan sargeant

summary: florida man fucks shy college girl. or, back home in fort lauderdale y/n’s welcome home party is sabotaged by her race winner brother, and it gives her a bit of a complex. at least her brothers best friend is there to make her feel better about it.

pairing: logan sargeant x female kirkwood! reader

warnings: straight up smut, kyle kirkwood is a lot to handle in large doses (but we love him anyways), feelings of anxiety, minor sibling rivalry, body image issues. i am going to hell, littered with spelling mistakes because of how fast I was typing and pure laziness to go back and fix it

author's note: 954 is the area code for fort lauderdale. and technically kyle kirkwood lives in jupiter, but for the sake of the story let's pretend he's also from lauderdale.

she sat at the edge of the pier, jeans rolled up past her shins as she started off into the horizon, watching the sun dip below the ocean line.

“it’s your party, what are you doing out here alone?”

she rolled her eyes, pulling her feet out of the water before following the voice. “why do you think? kyle hijacked it. I’m back home for less than a day and he’s already stealing the spotlight again.”

that was the way it always went in the kirkwood household: y/n came home from school, and everything was great, and then kyle waltzes in and suddenly everything is about him again.

logan shook his head, settling onto the pier next to her, a gentle hand resting on her thigh. she shrugged it off, anxiously twisting one of the rings on her hand.

“you know he doesn’t do it on purpose, right?” logan soothed “he loves you, and he hates that you feel like this.”

“i know. the inferiority complex is all me.”

“it’s not a complex, and your feelings are valid.”

she shook her head. “everyone tells me i shouldn’t have quit karting. even when it made me hate myself.”

she sighed, laying down on the pier, worn wood scratching at her skin, but not splintering against her baby pink tank top. “what am I doing with my life, logan?”

“hey, look at me.” logan encouraged, fingertips against her chin to angle her face towards him. “you are doing great things. deans list every semester, you’re a great artist and I’d be shocked if firms weren’t lining up to hire you as a litigator.”

“you’re just saying that.” she refused to meet his eyes. logan was kyles best friend, for god sakes. she’d crumble under his stare, his touch.

“but I’m not.” logan insisted, gripping her face now, making her look at him. she needed to know how wonderful she was, and he was going to be the one to tel her. “you are smart and funny and all kinds of wonderful, kirkwood. any guy would be lucky to have you, and anyone else should consider themselves blessed to have you as a friend.”

“you really mean that?”

“why would I lie to you, y/n?”

she barely had time to respond before logans lips were on hers. she was hesitant at first, unsure if logan really knew what he was doing. unsure if he was really kissing her because he wanted to or because he pitied her.

the intrusive thoughts didn’t stay long, however, as she snapped to attention and moved her lips against his, wrapping her body around his.

“jesus.” logan breathed. “those jeans make your ass look incredible. well, your ass always looks incredible, but these jeans are really doing it for me.”

she laughed at how red logan's face was, a shade that looked more salmon under the sunset. the pier was digging into her skin, and she was starting to get uncomfortable, logan's lips along her neck not quite enough to distract from the discomfort of what she was sure would become a splinter if their activities were not relocated.

somehow they made it to her bedroom without being discovered by the partygoers, much less kyle. the fairy lights tacked to her dusty pink walls were the only light in the room as logan backed her up against her bookshelf, securely caging her body against his.

she felt safe in logan's arms. protected.

"i've been crazy about you for years now." logan growled in between kisses. "every night i came over to watch panthers games with your brother, and you were there in those tight little jean shorts, laughing and giggling with your friends. or when i'd stay the night and you'd walk past his bedroom door to get to the bathroom in the middle of the night, your skimpy silk top falling down your shoulder just enough to give me a taste of your gorgeous body. do you know how many times i've jerked off to the thought of you in kyle's bathroom? you're stunning, y/n. don't let anybody tell you otherwise."

her mind was reeling, and she couldn't find the proper words as she tugged at the collar of logan's button down shirt, pressing her lips back to his. logan sargeant was interested in her.

logan saw her for her, not just as kyle kirkwood's baby sister.

clothes were shed, buttons ripped off shirts. her head was spinning, elated and giddy and she couldn't find the words to tell logan how incredible she felt as his large hands squeezed her breasts over the mesh padding of her bralette.

she gasped, logan taking that chance to slip his tongue into her mouth, his fingers grappling for the clasp on her bra.

all at once, reality came crashing back down on her. she pulled away, hands flying up to cover her exposed breasts as the pale fabric tumbled to the hardwood floor.

she wouldn't meet logan's eyes, scared to know what he thought of her naked body. scared to see him stare at her and not know what he was thinking.

his eyes softened, the lust drawing back as concern seeped in to his irises. "y/n, pretty girl, you don't need to hide yourself around me. who made you think that you weren't sexy as all hell? i never want you feel like you have to be shy around me."

he gently gripped her arms, guiding her towards the wall length mirror hanging on the back of the ensuite door. logan stood behind her, lifting her chin so that she would meet his eyes in the mirror. placing his hands over hers, he gently pulled her palms off her breasts, exposing her bare torso to the soft lighting in the room.

"look at you beautiful you are, y/n. i'm serious."

"you're just saying that so you can get your dick wet." even as she said it, she knew it didn't sound like she meant it.

but even still, staring at herself in the mirror, all she could focus on was the way that she looked: the stretch marks on her breasts, the smattering of freckles up her arms (or were they moles, like the two on her back?).

"what will it take to show you how sexy you are, y/n?" logan rasped, undoing the button on her jeans. "should i make you watch yourself as i touch you?"

"yeah." her voice was shaky. "i think you should show me how sexy i am. clearly, i need reminding." where was this sudden boldness coming from?

"that;s my sexy, shy girl." logan cooed, tugging her jeans down her legs, kissing over her ass and down her leg before coming back up, eyes hungry at the sight of the young woman in front of him, panties hiked high on her hips and fairly see through as he slipped a hand over teh fabric and between her legs, teasing at the dampness beginning to form.

she gasped as logan slicked up his fingers, slipping them inside of her in one swift movement, working around the fabric of her cheeky panties. she was breathing hard, biting her bottom lip as she took in the sight in the mirror: logan's fingers flexing in and out of her, arousal running over his pale skin, his face contorted in concentration as he growled down her ear, telling her how tight she felt, and how good she was for him.

her own skin was rosy and flushed, a sheen of sweat beginning ro form as she felt her body heating up. there was something sinful about watching herself in the mirror, finally allowing herself to let loose a moan.

"that's my girl. don't get shy on me now, i want to know that you feel as good as i do." logan groaned, sucking on her neck. "touch me, baby. i know you want to. feel how fucking hard i am for you."

she loosened her grip on logan's wrist, internally grinning at the nail marks that she left behind in his skin before slipping an arm behind her, cupping his bulge in her hand.

she was floored. she knew logan was big (she could always see the outline in his swim shorts, forcing herself to stop staring before he noticed) but knowing that she had this effect on him?

it was a powerful thing.

"jesus, logan." she whined. "i need it inside of me."

logan's eyes sparkled. "what do you need inside of you, sweetheart? i need you to say it for me." he started pumping his fingers faster, his other hand moving to fondle her left breast, tweaking the rosy bud of her nipple between his fingers.

she sighed heavily, feeling her legs turn mushy as she leaned back against logan. "need your cock." she mumbled, unsure if she could speak any louder.

"what was that, darling? don't be shy now, i can't give you what you need if you don't tell me, love."

fuck you, she thought, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. she was clenching around his fingers now, unsure of hoe much longer she'd be able to last. but she needed him inside of her, felt like she might die if he wasn't.

"your cock!" she shouted. "please, logan, i need your big cock inside me, please, god, i need it."

why did she say that? she should never have said that. it made her sound desperate. but in a way, she was desperate, wasn't she?

logans fingers stopped their ministrations, pulling out of her and taking a trail of her juices with them. she thought her eyes were going to roll back in her head before logan laid her down on her queen bed, her hair fanning out behind her as he started to undo his jeans, resort shirt still hanging off his frame, face flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat as he licked her arousal off his fingers.

"do you have condoms, kirkwood? because i really don't want to have to go digging for them in kyle's room."

"please don't talk about my brother when i want you to fuck my brains out."

logan smirked. "not so shy now, are we, my sexy girl."

"shut up! go the ensuite, top vanity drawer on the left. you literally cannot miss the box."

she could have laughed, lying back on the bed and kicking off her panties as logan ran, half naked and dropping his resort shirt behind him, to the ensuite.

he stumbled back, tripping over discarded clothes and the fluffy carpet, triumphantly holding the box above his head.

"the whole box? how much do you think you're getting tonight, sarge?"

logan raised an eyebrow. "call me that, and i'm going to make you forget how shy you are and have you scream my name all night long."

#logan sargeant x reader #formula one x reader #f1 smut #f1 x reader #logan sargeant #f1 imagine #logan sargeant smut

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jarofstyles · 6 months

Note

hiiii could we get a really really meandom!Harry who’s very cocky & likes to manhandle y/n please please please 🙏🏻

Yall love a mean h huh? Here’s a baby blurb!!

Patreon

Warnings- mean don obviously, lots of degradation, gagging, slight dumbification,

——-

“I’ve had enough of looking at you disobey me.” He snarled. Her breath was stolen as his hands gripped her hips, physically tossing her on to her knees, not giving her any time to recover as he tugged her up to where he wanted her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” She cried out, spitting hair out of her mouth as she tried to plead her case. “I tried to hold it, I really did. It felt t-too good.” Reaching her orgasm without permission was not something the man took kindly to. Not after he made it explicitly clear that he owned every drop of her pleasure.

“Sorry isn’t fucking good enough, is it?” There was little time to think before his cock impaled her again, sliding all the way inside and stealing her breath. A broken moan left her swollen mouth as he pulled out and slammed back in again, jostling her on the bed. “Didn’t you learn your lesson last time? Can’t believe I have t’keep teaching you how to be good.”

She knew it was pathetic but she loved when he got like this. When he spoke mean to her, his tone low and sharp as his cock fucked into her. Being used like this was the thing she wanted most of all and Harry gave it to her so good, she couldn’t stop coming back. “I-I….” The girl had attempted to say something, but the thrusts had fucked any thought she had right out of her head.

“You what? Fucking whore… god, it’s a good thing your cunt feels this good. I’d have no use for you if it wasn’t.” He could tell she liked it from how wet she god, gushing around his prick and soaking him more than any other woman had. The sloppy sounds of her ruined cunt getting deep fucked were loud and welcomed, next to her little whines each time he thrust all the way in. “Yeah… good little pussy, takes me so well. At least she works properly, unlike that empty little head of yours. Just lay there and let me use you to get off.”

That had her cunt fluttering around his cock again, clueing him in to just how much she liked the degrading. “Pathetic.” Fingers pressed into her mouth, making her moans muffle as she attempted to suck on them. “Need all your holes filled just t’make you happy. Lucky I’m so nice to you and let you be my fucktoy. I have options, y’know sweets? Could get my dick wet whenever I leave the house but…” he felt her moan on his digits as his other hand dipped his thumb into her ass. “None of them let me toss ‘em around quite like you. You know your place as my pretty set of holes, don’t you?”

There was a feeble attempt at a nod but she was hindered by the fingers she had stroking her tongue, eyes tearing up again as he got deep into her. It felt like he was in her stomach, the intrusion on her ass only adding to the full feeling she’d been craving. “Good. I don’t want t’have to replace you, sweetheart. Don’t think anyone else would get this wet from having their sweet cunt bullied by a cock that’s a bit too big for them to take.”

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jujutsubaby · 8 months

Text

after hours (part 4)

☆ pairing: toji fushiguro x afab!reader, satoru gojo x afab!reader ☆ summary: you and toji FINALLY have some alone time...things are getting steamy in the fushiguro household...meanwhile, satoru gojo cannot keep his hands to himself, no matter how hard he tries. ☆ warnings: 18+. MINORS DNI !! oral sex (f!recieving & m!recieving) deepthroating, fingering, spanking, penetrative sex, slight power dynamic, dirty talk, hints of a threesome, masturbation, dirty fantasies ☆ tags: modernAU, babysittingAU ☆ a/n: OK IT"S FINALLY HERE U HORNDOGS <3 the toji smut i wrote once again with one hand 😈 i'm excited for the next chapter where i can finally write some gojo smut hehe 🤭 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤

"be right back, gonna tuck megumi into bed really quick," toji says to before giving you a quick peck on the lips and heading upstairs.

you sit on toji’s couch, twiddling your thumbs, quite honestly feeling excited for the rest of the night. you’ve wanted this for long it feels like you manifested it and you just couldn’t wait any longer. you close your eyes and sigh deeply, imagining how toji’s hands would feel sliding up and down your body and shiver slightly. your hand starts wandering lower and lower down your stomach, but your thoughts are abruptly interrupted by your phone dinging. you immediately frown. getting a text from satoru is always an immediately boner kill…sometimes.

satoru: wyd wanna come over?

ugh, how many times do i have to tell him that i’m busy tonight? you quickly type a response.

y/n: dude i alr told u i was busy tn remember 😒

satoru: are u fr gonna let toji’s broke ass dick you down instead of hangin w me?? sad 😔

y/n: yes 🙃 best offer i’ve had tn

speech bubbles show up, indicating satoru is typing, and continues to type for what feels like hours (it was 30 seconds).

satoru: i guarantee u i can blow ur back better than he can. just ask anyone 😈

you stare at the text dumbfounded. what the actual FUCK is he on? you’re honestly so annoyed that he would try to slide into your thoughts right now, right before toji blows your mind.

y/n: kys

you put your phone on vibrate and mute satoru’s texts, not caring how he responds back. you go back to the fantasy you were thinking of before his intrusion and your hand starts sliding down your body once again. you’re imagining toji’s arms holding you tight and how skillful he was with his tongue last night. he never properly showed love to your tits, and you imagine him continuing what he was doing earlier in the night with your delicate buds. and satoru choking you while it happens. wait, what the fuck?

your hand immediately stops, shocked by your intrusive thoughts, but your lower body betrays you, soaking your panties.

as if your heart wasn't beating fast enough, you hear toji come down the stairs and you get up to meet him. he holds a hand out for you.

"have you ever been to my bedroom?" he asks, leading you up the stairs.

you giggle, excited to see toji's bedroom for the first time. "i haven't! i'm so excited! i feel like a person's bedroom says a lot about them and i just love-"

you're left speechless as you enter toji's bedroom, which is just plain sheets on a king sized mattress without a headboard, and a measly bedside drawer and dresser. you think you saw one of the two on the sidewalk last spring for spring cleaning.

"this is where the magic happens, pumpkin," toji says slyly. "i know, i know, contain yourself."

"there's no way you live like someone who's in kappa sigma. be so fucking for real right now, toji. you're literally a father..." you say, still in absolute shock over over his room. you vowed back in undergrad you would never hook up with a frat guy ever again and here now is this mid-30s man who you were about to link up with that doesn't have a headboard. you look up at toji nonplussed.

"i guarantee that you won't give a shit about how this place looks once i'm done with you." with that, toji lifts you up and starts kissing you deeply, tongue feverishly exploring yours. he slams your body down into his bed, and you're surprised that his bed is softer than you expected. your body melts into his sheets and you never break contact with his mouth, moaning into the kiss.

he breaks the kiss and flips you over, causing you to squeak. "let's get this thing off of you," toji growls, his eyes filled with hunger as he fiddles with the zipper on your back. you arch your back out, your ass meeting his hard member, and he hisses at the slight touch.

"calm down, pumpkin...so eager and slutty for me..." toji whispers as he finally undoes the buttons and zippers. it practically takes everything toji has to not rip your jumpsuit to shreds as he turns you over and peels your jumpsuit off of you, exposing your chest and your perky nipples.

he wastes no time and immediately latches on to one while kneading the other, and you let out a wanton moan, gripping his hair. the things he's doing with his tongue is sending electricity throughout your body and your back arches in pleasure.

toji moves on to your other nipple, and lightly bites and rolls it between his mouth, causing you to yell out a pathetic "toji, please..."

"what do you need from me, pumpkin?" he asks, lifting his head up and locking eyes with you.

"n-need...i need you in my mouth." you whimper, feeling so helpless to the lustful indulgence you were giving into.

toji grunts and places your hand on his hard member and you use your fingers to unzip his pants and palm him through his boxer briefs, whining for more. "can't keep my pumpkin waiting, can i?" he says, as he pulls his underwear down and his throbbing member bounces out.

your eyes widen at the sheer size of him, but you were never a quitter. your mouth salivates as your fingers wrap around him and start to move up and down. you kiss the tip and leave a trail of saliva connecting your lips to his throbbing member, before fully engulfing him in your mouth.

you hear toji let out a guttural moan before his hands fixate themselves as your makeshift ponytail. "just like that...yeah...you're taking me so well, pumpkin..." he says softly between throaty sighs. he starts moving your head up and down at a faster pace and you moan around him.

the vibrations of your constant moans sends toji into a frenzy. "fuck, y'think you can deepthroat me? think your little mouth can handle that?" he asks between deep breaths.

your eyes look up to meet his. you give him the green light, and toji wastes no time picking up the pace and fucking your mouth. your whimpers against him only motivates him to go faster. you don't think your mouth has ever been this full (and you're sure it's gonna be bruised tomorrow morning), and tears start to brim your eyes and mascara slowly smudges down your face. you're determined to take his full length into your mouth, or at least gag trying until he's close.

you should've known better than trying to fit all of him in. he's so incredibly huge so you don't get to take in his full length, and you end up gagging on him a few times. soon enough, toji finds a pace that allows your tongue to skillfully lick and suck his entire length while your hand takes over what you can't.

"f-fuck, pumpkin, you keep goin' like this i'm gonna get close..." toji says, his eyes closed, face flushed, and his mouth in an o-shape, taking in the sensations your mouth was performing. it really was a spectacularly lewd performance, as toji cannot recall another time another girl was so skilled with their tongue. none of the girls he fucked before compared to you.

you continue your ministrations, and just as toji warned before, he gets dangerously close before he abruptly pulls his soaked, leaking member off your mouth. you cry out at the loss of him inside your mouth, but finally relax your jaw as toji starts kissing your neck all the way up to your mouth, and then back to your neck.

as he starts to bite your neck and leaves, what you think will be, a giant purple patch tomorrow morning, you wantonly cry out. "t-toji~ please, i can't handle this anymore," as tears start to well up in your eyes from deepthroating him. "i-i n-need you i-inside m-mee~" you beg. your mind can barely form a coherent thought, as all you could think about was how you wanted to feel him. all of him.

toji lets out a breathy chuckle as he starts kissing you down your body, slowly removing the rest of your jumpsuit and leaving you in your - oh my god? why the hell are you wearing your pink panties with burger prints all over them?!

"ohmygod, sorry i totally forgot to change into sexy pant- ohh, f-fuck~"

toji kisses your wet clothed core deeply, hitting your bundle of nerves, causing you to stop mid-sentence. "these are fuckin' adorable, pumpkin," toji coos, his eyes never once leaving your clothed core, hypnotized by the sight of your wet panties sticking to your core in front him.

he slowly takes off your burger panties, and locks eyes with you, before his tongue flicks across your bundle of nerves, causing you to practically scream at how sensitive you were. toji smirks, knowing he quite literally hit the right nerve, before diving into it.

"o-ohh, f-fu-, don't stop, pleaaase~" you whine as you hold his head in place between your legs. you grind your core up and down, feeling your sensitive nub shoot pleasure through all part of your body and causing your toes to curl.

"you know, i think we forgot to get dessert tonight...", toji teases as he switches to his fingers rubbing rough circles on your bundle of nerves. "you taste better than anything we would've got..."

you breaths become heavier and shorter as you feel the familiar dam build up begging to release. "remember when i made you cum all over my face last time princess? let's do it two for two," toji says between licks to your sensitive and throbbing core.

"y-yes p-please, toji~" you nod, already feeling yourself coming undone. "i-i'm about to...please~" you beg, unable to stop the dam from breaking and you release over toji's mouth once again. toji takes in every part of you, making sure you ride your release until the very end, almost to the point of overstimulating you.

you to jerk your hips away from toji's mouth due to how overstimulated you got. satisfied, toji leans up to give you a wet open mouthed kiss that you whimper into pathetically, unable to properly prop yourself up after your first release. before you're able to say anything, toji flips you over on your chest and pulls your exposed ass up as he slips off his underwear.

"been waiting my turn for ages, pumpkin," he mumbles, as he licks his two fingers before sliding them inside your entrance, stretching and prepping your for his length. you let our a throaty moan as you feel yourself already ready for another release over just his fingers.

"think you can handle me, pumpkin?" he asks, taking his fingers out of you and you mewl at the loss of contact.

you bit your lip and widen your eyes as you look at him. his pupils were dilated and filled with lust, and you bit back a moan. "i can take you," you pout, feigning displeasure with toji's diffidence towards you. can you though? you've never had something as big as him inside you, and you knew it. but once again, you were never a quitter, always a pleaser.

he wordlessly chuckles, as he slowly teases your entrance with his tip. you shake your hips back and forth, eager to feel him fully inside you, and toji obliges, unapologetically sliding his full length inside your eager entrance.

he anticipates your long moan, and immediately slaps his hand over your mouth, and your cries end up muffled and muted. toji hisses at the way your walls immediately tighten around him.

"fuck, pumpkin. never met anyone tighter than you..." he grunts, slowly and rhythmically moving himself against your ass. you feel him hit the sensitive patch inside you, and your moans are muffled even further as toji tightens his hand around your mouth harder.

after pounding into you for a bit more, he releases his hand from your mouth, causing you to slur out toji's name. "t-toji~ i'm getting sooo clo-"

you're cut off by toji switching angles, as he pushes your back down, creating a harsh arch of your back. your face sinks headfirst into the pillows, and your ass flush against the base of toji's throbbing member. your whimpers are muffled against the pillows, as toji masterfully and ruthlessly starts to slam into you in and out. he's getting close, but he's determined to hold out until you are too.

toji's hand slips around your waist and his fingers start circling your bundle of nerves, causing you whimper and grab the bedsheets until your knuckles turn white. he switches up the sensation by giving your ass a harsh slap, earning a high pitched moan out of you. seeing the red palm imprint on your ass cheek spurs him on to hammer into you even faster.

you feel the familiar tight coil starting inside your core, spreading all over your body. your toes and fingers curl, and you're a moaning crying mess. your makeup is definitely staining toji's sheets but your don't even care. no one does.

toji alternates between relentlessly massaging your delicate nub and playfully slapping your ass as he's teetering closer and closer to the edge.

he feels your walls clench up around him and can tell your close. "need a release, pumpkin?" he says through gritted teeth and deep breaths.

you don't even understand what you say, your words slurred from the ecstasy of toji's sublime movements. how is he managing to hit your g-spot every single time?

"nnghh~ i-i'm g-gonna c-cu-"

you cry out in ecstasy as your walls begin to tighten around him as you feel the tight coil in your stomach unfurl with fireworks and spots blurring your vision as you have your second, and strongest, release of the night. your release directly results in toji's as you milk his hard throbbing pulsating member and he fills you up. he lets out quick, deep, guttural groans as he spills all over you. thank god you're on birth control.

you both are left breathing heavily, as you turn on your back, legs still twitching from how hard your body gave in to toji, who bounces into the spot next to you breathing heavily. you feel toji's seed slowly seeping out of you, but you can't bring yourself to care; you're far too fucked out to think a coherent thought.

he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close as you snuggle into his neck, just like a puzzle piece finding it's place. you sigh and close your eyes, hearing nothing the sound of your breaths in unison slowing down.

"that...was...so fun..." you whisper slowly in between breaths.

toji airily chuckles. "it was, wasn't it, pumpkin?" toji starts massaging your scalp an playing with your hair and you both sit in the comfortable companionable silence you both appreciated.

toji doesn't know when your silence turned into slumber, but when he gets up, he sees your eyes closed with your mouth slightly open, your mind somewhere far away. he knows he shouldn't wake you, but he also knows you really should use the bathroom before falling asleep. deciding on letting you sleep a bit more before waking you, he tries his best to slowly get out of the creaky bed and head to the washroom.

toji won't lie, he's also incredibly fucked out, and his eyes are droopy as he tries to stay awake while he brushes his teeth and gets out an extra tooth brush for you. once he's done, he approaches you silently and lightly shakes you to wake you up.

"mmmghh, stoppp i'm trying to sleep..." you mumble, clearly unreceptive to waking up.

"i know, pumpkin," toji coos, rubbing your body up and down, "y'gotta pee after sex, i read it somewhere i think..."

you sleepily giggle at his concern with your eyes closed as you lay on your back. "ugh, fine...but you have to keep my spot warm for me." you warn, as toji helps you get up.

"left you a toothbrush on the counter. it's the blue one."

"gotcha," you say with a thumbs up as you swing your legs over the bed. as you take the first step, you double down over the pain you feel in your abdomen and lower stomach and yelp.

a concerned toji runs over to your side, only to start grinning and laughing. he leans down your level. "ohhh, someone's sore..." he teases.

"shut up toji~" you yell in a loud whisper, frowning at him laughing at your pain. "this is all your fault," you pout.

"okay, go pee and brush your teeth and i'll make it up by playing w your hair again until you sleep," he promises, giving your ass a quick slap. you give him a playfully dirty look before heading to the bathroom to finish your business.

while brushing your teeth, you send quick text to shoko letting her know you're planning to stay the night with toji. immediately, you get a text back from her acknowledging it, but even more surprisingly, you get a text from satoru:

satoru: so ur spending the night at his place, huh? that good? 🤨

no way they're together right now. you furrow your eyebrows and send a quick text back.

y/n: what are you doing w shoko

satoru: i'm at ur apartment stupid i told u i got bored

y/n: stay away frm my room

satoru: too late i'm going to do 3/3 of my jerk offs in ur bed tn :/

you don't know why you snorted. i mean it was a little funny. you shake your head and finish brushing your teeth. you look at your reflection in the mirror and notice all the mascara and eyeliner streaks on your face and have to hold back a laugh. you're looking so ridiculous and fucked out, and you know shoko and utahime would find it hilarious (and partially very happy for you for having a fun time). you grab your phone and take a selfie of your makeup streaked face and send it to your group chat with them.

y/n: [1 Photo] it happened ya'll 🤪

utahime and shoko both immediately respond:

utahime: u deserve this queen u manifested it 💓

shoko: i do NOT want to hear that ur down bad ever again after this

shoko: also !! [1 Photo]

shoko sends you a screenshot of her and utahime's villager avatars on their animal crossing island, cottagecore witchy theme and all, holding hands. this might possibly be the cutest thing you've ever seen in your life and send at least 10 hearts in response.

you let out a big yawn and head back to bed. you have an early morning tomorrow, as you made plans with your friends to meet up at cafe amanai again to dissect the parent teacher conference. you can't remember why you were so nervous about tonight -- it went just as lovely as you hoped (aside from all the dumb texts from satoru).

"gotcha this also so you're not cold," toji mumbles, half alseep, pointing to his national park t-shirt on the bed. you put it on, and it's the perfect oversized fit for you. oh my god, it's kinda cute...should you keep it?

you get into bed and bonk toji's head lightly. "hey! you said you would play with my hair," you chide, facing away from him, but pushing your body snugly against his. he pulls you even closer, accepting his role as the big spoon, and mumbles something you can't hear starts playing with your lightly.

you hum in contentment. "by the way, this t-shirt..." you yawn. "it's...so dilfy."

"hmm..." toji says half alseep, "bet you say that to all the dilfs you fuck..."

you feel so warm inside when you realize you can hear his smile in that response, even half asleep. "you got me," you joke, as the sound of toji's breathing and his fingers caressing your scalp sends you into a blissful slumber within minutes.

meanwhile, at your apartment, shoko and utahime are bidding farewell to suguru and satoru. utahime is trying not to rush them out, but she really doesn't want her night to be more soiled by satoru than it already is, and shoko agrees.

satoru drives himself and suguru back, mostly in silence since it is past midnight, and they are both incredibly tired. once back at their apartment, like clockwork, satoru finds himself doing the motions to get ready for bed.

his head plops into his silk pillow and despite being obviously tired and having an early morning of gossip sessions, work, and classes ahead of him, he cannot stop thinking about the photo he sneakily saw of you on shoko's phone -- the one of your mascara running down your face.

if he recalls correctly, you didn't have a neck hemline in the photo either, so you were probably naked too. he's trying really hard not to think about him fucking your mouth like that. no, he really is, he swears his hands are just reaching down his boxers magically. he's also getting hard despite trying to replace your face with literally any other girl he's slept with, but it always reverts back to you.

satoru always makes jokes about blowing your back out, and he knows he's joking...right? it's just a cheeky joke he makes with one of his best friends, satoru thinks, as he's starts stroking himself more passionately.

his breath hitches, and he imagines you- no, not you, that, uh, other girl...what's her name? jessica? he imagines jessica's face tearing up as he casually rams himself deeper into your throat - no, jessica's throat!

fuck, satoru thinks, reaching closer to the edge of no return. at this point, he's shameless as he let's his fantasies run wild. he thinks of you on your knees, tongue sticking out, waiting for him to spill all over your fucked out face. satoru climaxes hard, and wishes nothing more than to watch you clean it up with your mouth.

god, satoru knows it's wrong but you both have bad habits of blurring the lines of your friendship...

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ih8simps · 1 year

Text

Slightly unhinged/ yandere Gojo (x reader)

“Nanami”

“No”

“Na-Na-Mi” you cooed.

“Again, no” he sighed exasperatedly.

It had been exactly 20 minutes since you began following the sorcerer from Jujutsu tech and you were already giving the senior teacher a head ache.

“Oh come on. What would be so bad about having lunch with me?” You contorted your face into the visage of a pout. Since childhood, this had been the face that broke Nanami’s resolve every time. His eyes danced across your face for a moment, and it almost seemed like he was going to crack.

“No”

“But-“

“Just listen. I can’t. I don’t want to have to argue with him again. He’s just as annoying as you are”

Your face fell. He was always the wedge between you and anything you wanted.

“He doesn’t have a say in who I get to hang out with. Nanami you used to be my-“ the onset of your tantrum was stopped by a warm hand engulfing your arm. His grip on you was sudden yet firm.

“Who doesn’t have a say?” His voice was smooth like velvet and the soft hum of his voice sent a chill down your spine.

“And Nanami was what to you, again?” The grip on your arm tightened with every syllable that fell from his lips. You couldn’t form a tangible thought in his presence. His sudden intrusion left you feeling suddenly very unsafe. When did he get here? How did you not sense his presence?

The intel you received a few days ago said that Satoru Gojo would be far from jujutsu tech. He was supposed to be so far away that he shouldn’t even be able to sense you. How was he here? Did he ever really leave? Why did the informant lie?

Hearing Nanami’s deep sigh pulled you from your thoughts.

“I’m leaving. See you around, (y/n)”. The moment he turned on his heel to leave, your heart began to sputter. Panic began to rise in your bosom. You couldn’t be left alone with Gojo, not even in public.

“Na-nanami. Wait. Please”. The slight pitch to your voice must have coaxed him. He let out another exasperated sigh. It seemed that he was thinking deeply about something. He slowly turned back around to see you pulled closely to Gojo.

“You know. It would be nice to have a meal with you both.” he made sure to loudly enunciate the last word. Both.

If anyone knew of the possessive and obsessive nature of Gojo, it was Nanami. Since childhood he had noticed the way Satoru interacted with you. His gaze was always fixed on you a little too long and his hand always found some way to keep a hold onto you. It was no secret that Gojo had been unparalleled in his all consuming obsession with you.

Nanami was there the day young Satoru Gojo proclaimed to all of the students, although there were so few, that anyone who was dumb enough to get too close to you would have to get through him first. That day was the last real day of your individual freedom.

As the strongest son born into the family, it was clear that Satoru was going to be the next head of his clan. He never truly flaunted his status or threw around his influence. The day he proclaimed you as his, he was simply voicing what he considered to be obvious.

It didn’t seem that his message had the impact he intended because 2 weeks after his announcement, he saw you gallivanting around Tokyo with a new beau. Satoru didn’t even register what the boy looked like before he ripped you away from him. He said nothing as he dragged you away from him. The iron grip he had on your arm felt like he was truly trying to crush you.

Some part of you believed that was the day Satoru truly had lost his mind when it came to you. A week after that you realized that your family had been acting strange. Your father had more meetings than ever before and your mother seemed to be lost in deep thought at all hours of the day. The unspoken issue in your home came to a fever pitch when your parents finally broke the news. The Gojo clan had requested something from your family that only they could supply.

“Satoru wants you” your mother whispered, tightly grasping your hand. “H-he has threatened taking rash action if we decline” she continued, not even allowing you a moment to question her words.

“I’ve been meeting with the clan every day and it seems that he wants nothing else. There is no way to keep you from doing this, (y/n)” your father’s voice came out low and shaky. You realized you’d never seen him look so defeated. “I offered them many things, but they cannot decline a request from the next head of the family. He’s offered not only to take care of you, but the rest of our family as well. The only thing he wants in return is you. He’s quite adamant” he mumbled shaking his head in what looked like disbelief.

Time seemed to freeze as you took in his words. You’d been practically sold off to Satoru. You knew he had a powerful position, but you didn’t know he could just get his way like this. Every part of your body shivered in anger and disgust. He was like a plague or a natural disaster. He swept through a place and destroyed everything in its path.

Life was never the same after that. All of your things were moved to the Gojo compound and you began your life as Satoru’s ‘special guest’.

11 years later and you were still under his constant watch. There were days and moments when you felt like you were truly alone but those moments were short lived. The longest you had gone without being under those all seeing eyes was three months. Those were three of the most comfortable months of your life, but today because you were summoned by the higher ups, that comfort was surely over.

“(Y/n) can’t go to any meals with you today actually” if you didn’t know him, you’d think his tone was calm but that was quite the contrary. Satoru was seething. You’d been missing from his sight for three full months. He’d want everything from you now, including an explanation.

You carefully turned your gaze to his. “But Gojo I-“

A look of pure rage swept past his opalescent eyes and you knew instantly that you’d made a mistake. You were never supposed to call him that. It took him years to break you out of that habit and in only three months you were back to square one.

“We’ll have to take a rain check” he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes, “we have things to discuss”.

#x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo #satorugojo #gojo x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #yandere gojo #unhinged gojo #yandere x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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