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starsexplodeatnight · 4 months

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Tf141 guys x Reader

Okay, Sooooo

I don’t know what this is per say, just

John Price x Florist!reader

Kyle Garrick x Dog-walker!reader

John Mactavish x Nurse!reader

Simon Riley x Preschool-teacher!reader

Price first!!!

This old dog is not having a good day. The first time you two meet? He’s looking to order a sympathy piece… a fallen solider. So, he’s not in the best mood when he enters your shop.

Then, you come out the back with your sweet smile. It feels like lip balm on chapped lips, soothing the cracks splintering his heart in this moment.

“Hi, I’m *Name*. Welcome, how can I help you?” With a soft look on your face.

Fuck him, he needs the kindness. You’re so understanding when he tells you, not overly patronizing just… kind. Understanding. You’d have to be, having to make arrangements and funeral pieces as much as you do.

While you’re quickly piecing the arrangement together you talk to him, just a natural flow of conversation. He does pause when you ask. “What do you want in the arrangement? What would you like it to look like?” “Sympathetic?” And you laugh. “Fair enough.”

He likes that laugh.

You hand him the arrangement and tell him how to take care of the flowers to make them last longer. Then give him this sweet, sweet encouraging smile…

Yeah, he comes back a week later. Up front asks: “You want to get dinner Love?” Makes you flush, your co-workers in the back giggling until you shoo them away. “That sounds lovely.”

‘Love really does bloom, doesn’t it?’ He muses.

Generally? Your life together is sweet.

You’re together for about a year before he proposed. He’s a man, he’s old enough to know what he wants. He wants to wake up with you ever morning with the safety of that ring around your finger. That, if anything ever happens to him? He could still provide even in his absence…

You hate it when he talks like that but, accept that you need to be realistic… deep down? It makes you feel loved. A painful, sorrowful, love.

He helps you when he can. Whenever he’s home? He’s at your shop helping you get any extra work done so you can spend as much time together as you can while he’s not deployed.

You need help assembling an arbor for a wedding? He uh- he has carpentry skills… let him help, love. He builds you the sturdiest arbor in the industry!

Deliveries? He’ll run those, he’s got time. He doesn’t mind. Warms his heart a bit to do some good delivering flowers to people… they get so happy when he shows up with flowers.

He helps you set up the flowers at weddings! He also refuses to do anything that puts him within the vicinity of the bride and her party! They mistook him as a stripper once, never again. Never again. He’s a happily married man, thank you very much!

What kind of male stripper wears a hat like his any way? Wrangler jeans and a L.L Bean shirt that’s probably older than the bride!!! It was actually very cute to see how steamed he was after that…

You make sure to give HIM flowers. Most men don’t get flowers until their funeral … You don’t want that to be John. He melts a little when you bring himself home flowers you arranged yourself just for him.

You’ve looked up and seen him leaning on the table with a rose between his teeth. As soon as you made eye contact, he wiggles his brows. It made you crack up, he did it just for that reason. A rare moment of silliness from your John.

Will judge other brides choices when you bring home the files for the weddings you’re hired for. But, nothing will ever compare to your wedding to him in his eyes because your wedding was the best. Ever.

He saved your bouquet, dried it and framed it. Gave it to you as an anniversary present.

He then played your wedding song and you two slow danced in a circle together…. Sigh…

Gaz!:

Kyle was on his morning run when he saw you. Across the street with a few dogs, you looked so fucking happy, that made you look so fucking pretty.

You’re wearing an over sized t-shirt, sweatpants and look frazzled as you wrangle 4 dogs at once. You don’t even notice the Adonis across the street as you try and regain steady footing as the dogs all do their best to keep you on your toes.

Brock the 3 year old yellow lab was a puller… and he is CHONKY so you didn’t have much time to pay attention to anything else.

Kyle now tries to ‘bump’ into you. Timing his run to make a meet cute happen. Fuck him if he’s already done his run and doesn’t see you only to spot you once he’s on his door step sweaty and gross! EVERY TIME!

He’ll try and go again even though his legs are burning. This? This stunt catches the dogs attention, not yours. You’ve got 5 today and they HAUL ASS to go see Kyle. And you’re just dragged to his feet.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! They’re all friendly, I swear!” You wheeze, Kyle laughs. “Don’t worry Luv! S’fine. It’s cute,” He’s not looking at the dogs, despite the Jack Russell ‘Shermie’ making eyes at him.

Ah ha! Kyle has ingratiated himself! He get’s so pumped as soon as he gets home! You invited him to walk with you! ‘Anytime!’ Fuck yeah! He does a fist pump and dances foot to foot.

He finds dogs are a good judge of character and, these dogs? They love you. And you are devoted to them despite them not being yours. He finds those qualities incredibly attractive.

Generally? You two are cute.

He’ll take the high energy dogs on jogs for you when you meet up. He can keep up with them! *subtle flex*

He despite his athleticism? He likes the small, slow dogs. Like the blind, cross eyed Shi tzu ’Louie’ and the grumpy old Bassett ‘Geraldine’

It gave him ample time to walk leisurely and talk to you… You, Gaz and Geraldine went on many walks together.

He love, love, loves whenever you send him a selfie of you and one of the dogs! He’s got a whole folder of them and the newest picture you send? That one is always his newest Lock Screen.

Has worn a dog papoose and, has carried a dog while wearing a dog papoose. He is not ashamed, you thought he looked cute. And he takes all compliments of any kind. Hell yeah he looks cute, thanks baby!

He loves those prissy little toys. ‘Teddy’ the Pomeranian is one of his favorites, Teddy just loves being held. Oh, Kyle looks so attractive holding that spoiled little poof… he’s so sweet and caring with it too. Fuck!

He holds you if one of your regulars dies. Losing an animal is hard, especially when you’d been walking that dog since it was a puppy… he’s here luv, it’s okay. His eyes are misty too because, he cared for that dog too.

He get’s a Bassett stuffed animal, ‘R.I.P Geraldine, you helped me find something worthwhile.’

He proposes to you that night.

You have a little Bassett hound topper on your cake as a small tribute to the dog that helped you get closer…

He will and HAS gotten between you and an aggressive dog. He doesn’t like hurting animals but, fuck if he was going to left anyone hurt his baby and her charges! Tries to beat the piss out of the owner.

His wedding gift to you? A dog. Not just any dog! He wanted to get you one that will keep you safe while he’s deployed and one that will help you handle your charges. So he get’s you a very highly trained Belgian malinois.

Her name is Gracie and she helps you both sleep better at night…

Soap!:

Oh, oh Soap. He get’s lambasted during a mission and gets put into hospital. His nurse? An over tired, over worked, grumpy woman who will not put up with Tom-fuckery during her shift.

In rolls in Soap: a battered pile of tenderized meat who immediately attempts a pick up line while she’s trying to make him comfortable. Oh, it’s going to be a long recovery.

Every goddamn shift! He’d light up every single fucking time you walk into the room! Oh, it makes you want to smother him with a pillow -cute aggression-

It’s not fair! You wanted to hate him! Be the grumpy bitch nurse and go on with your day! But, he makes it hard!!!

He seems so genuinely interested and not some creepy perv hitting on a nurse! He asks you how you are in such a genuine way, he leans in to listen, retains information! He does try and rile you up but, only because he thinks your ‘angry face’ is ‘cute’ the bastard! Who gave him the right to call you cute!?

And he loves, despite how angry you present yourself. You are the gentlest nurse, you care, you’re still a good nurse despite trying to act as jaded as the older nurses. You remember he does like certain foods, you get blood on the first draw and you always know what he needs…

God, it’s tumbling down the slippery slope faster than you ever imagined. You weren’t supposed to catch feelings! That’s not allowed!!! But when he’s finally discharged? He finds you, and offers to walk you home instead of going with his friends to celebrate his discharge.

He knew how much it meant to you for him to acknowledge what you’ve done for him… even behind the tough wall you put up.

He’ll always remember you stayed far past your shift to watch him when he spiked a fever and was critical…

You two are sour and sweet.

He rips those jaded glasses off your face and gives you a big kiss.

You’re kinda just- not codependent! but, something on the healthier side of that. You have a comfortable rhythm. He’ll go out with friends at night, stalling until you come off your shift and he can pick you up.

He gets to spend time with friends, you get to walk home knowing you’re safe at 2 in the morning… even if you have to steady him on the way home after one too many pints.

He has bought a sexy nurse costume for you. He mainly wants you to wear it, he has worn it as well…

He loves your stories! You have the best stories! He’ll sit you on the bar so you can regale his mates that story of that guy! “You know- that guy! The one that got that thing stuck up his ass!” “Which one?”

Sometimes you just, put your hand over his eyes. He looks at you with such fucking love it’s ridiculous. He just pushes further into your hand when you do this.

He will lie down and offer to be your dummy if you need a refresher on anatomy. Wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis.

It’s a personal victory whenever he makes you laugh.

He is lord and savior to the children in the hospital. He will come to visit the children’s care unit, full gear. You find him, and he is their god. They cling to his arms and legs, he’s still moving around, strong enough to keep on going even with 7 kids clinging to him.

He will use his little minions to his own personal advantage. Make them give you, like drawings and paper flowers just to see you smile. And for his own amusement.

It’s like Syd the Sloth and the tiny sloths.

He tells you he can’t wait until you have your own… you never imagined you’d actually ever get baby fever after working as a nurse again… Johnny makes that happen.

He makes you cry when he’s deployed. Wipes your tears away with his thumbs. “Oh, lass. Don’t cry! I ‘Ken you can put me back together if I come back in pieces.” He tries to joke, only makes you cry harder…

He holds you a little tighter after that one.

He never wants you to have to put you through that, ever. He cringes every time he remembers he said that… that he thought it was okay to joke about putting you through that.

Marries you after he comes home from deployment. He comes back in better shape this time too. He’s got to be careful now, doesn’t he?

Ghost:

This man? This man falls for a preschool teacher.

He’s just sitting in the park, minding his own business when he see’s you pass with your little class walking behind you like ducklings. Fuck, when was the last time he’d seen someone so pure?

Your preschool was just on the edge of the park and you, with a few other handlers, were letting the kids explore the park under supervision. Their ‘task’ is to find the ‘fauna’ of the park!

Imagine his surprise when more than 4 of the little crotch goblins run up to him specifically. He thought he was scary to the little kids, well apparently not! You rush over to his rescue when you see them using him as a piece of playground equipment.

Oh, he looked so confused. Frozen like a deer in headlights as you stifle your giggle, peeling the 4 year old girl off his lap. “I’m so sorry!” “No, s’fine… cheeky buggers.” The kids all giggle, eager to play with him again.

Ghost then adds it into his schedule to mosey past your school every afternoon. You always know when he does because it’s always at recess and all the kids (except a few) flock to the fence to say hello to ‘Mr Ghost.’

He feels like a celebrity… softens his prickly heart to see all these sweet kids admire him… he thinks so poorly of himself, then he looks at these kids and you? You all look at him with such adoration…. Makes him feel like a human being again instead of a war machine.

And you look at him with such love. You find it sweet he takes his time to come see the kids, graciously accepting their pictures they drew of him.

He was kind of awkward at first, he’d stood ramrod straight like he would with his old drill sergeant and informed you of his record. He wasn’t a creep, he was in the military, and this was his little… respite from all the bile he had to face.

You couldn’t turn him away. You welcomed him every time you saw him over the fence. He remained behind the boundary of the fence and was . He was very grateful you didn’t think he was a creep and trespassed him from walking by.

You two were blissful.

You asked him out on a date. He asked you how many children you wanted… so sweet. lol

He finds you absolutely beautiful, bouncing one of your students on your hip whenever he stops by. He can’t help it. He can’t wait until you have kids of your own, you’ll teach them to be such wonderful human beings. He’ll teach them how to defend themselves and he’ll keep you all safe.

He becomes a bit of a helper around the preschool whenever he’s not deployed. He’s certified in cpr- why not? He mostly just watches the class room to see if any kid is doing anything wrong and preventing anyone from choking.

Kids take turns sitting in his lap whenever he’s sitting. He acts like he doesn’t care but you know he adores it.

Little girls will bring him stuffed animals and by the time class ends he’s surrounded by every stuffed animal in class. He remembers all of their names too. Oh, you can’t help it you get cute aggression with him!

Will walk around with your lipstick prints all over his balaclava. He will dodge envy attempt to wipe them off. They’re his!

After a long day, he’ll help you clean up the class room. In his mind he’s playing this scenario out, like you two are cleaning up after your own kids.

Hates the moms. He hates every single one of of the moms. They’re annoying. They’re coming after his fine ass because they didn’t find a man that treat them right, like he does you and he’s not putting up with it!

Asks you to give him hickeys once. ‘‘But love, yes.’’ After you tell him ‘‘no!’’ “We work in a preschool!” “And? They bite each otha’ all the time.” “Simon!”

He is their god, part 2.

They laugh at all of his stupid jokes, which in turn makes you laugh and now he’s a smug bastard.

Vibes with Bluey, you two watch it together. Aims to be like Bandit when he’s a dad. Takes it as a compliment when you tell him. “You’re pretty much a dead ringer for him already love.” Like, stunned for a second before he’s kissing your temple.

He hates deploying now.

All the kids cry when he does, it’s awful. Then, it makes you cry too. You were trying so hard to be strong and now you’re crying along with them.

Makes him feel like a worse monster than he thought he was.

Tada! Idk what this was! But there ya’ go! Enjoy!

#cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john price #task force 141 #tf141 x reader

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fluentmoviequoter · 4 months

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Wintery

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!vigilante!reader

Summary: Gotham winters are brutal, but your best friend Jason Todd and work friend Red Hood know how to combat the cold. Unfortunately, you're falling in love with both of them.

Warnings: reader and Jason don't know the other is a vigilante, fluff, brotherly teasing, kissing, more fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I have no idea where this idea came from but it wouldn't leave me alone, so I had to write it. I hope it's okay and feel free to let me know what you think!🤍

Masterlist | DC/Jason Todd Masterlist | Request Info

Picture from Pinterest

Gotham winters are cold, windy, and relentless. There are few places to find refuge from the harsh bite of the chilling wind and fewer remedies to the wind-burned skin and seemingly permanent chapped lips.

Jason Todd, however, is a Gotham boy, born and raised, so he knows the importance of staying moisturized and protected in the winter. So, it's no surprise that he keeps lip balm in his pocket all winter.

No, it isn’t intimidating to see Red Hood putting Chapstick on, but having cracked lips is far more frightening. He finds quiet alleys, tipping his helmet up to combat dry lips before returning to his vigilante duties. Nightwing has only caught him once, and Jason is intent on never experiencing that level of brotherly torture (teasing) again.

✯✯✯✯✯

Since joining the small group of vigilantes, Red Hood has captured and kept your attention. Never saying more than a few words to you, he always seems nearby and eager to help you out of trouble, but you can’t get past that point.

Nightwing and Robin occasionally tell you their ideas to get him to open up to you, convinced there’s something between you, but you brush it off and admire the man in red from a distance.

The night wind is blowing hard enough you’re comfortable standing on such a high roof. You tuck yourself behind anything stationary, including Red Hood.

Under the hood, Jason smiles to himself. He knows why you’re standing close to him, your concern for the wind mixing with an irrational idea that he will allow anything to happen to you. But, if you want to use him to block the wind from your pretty face, he’s happy to stay perfectly still. However, his gaze keeps dropping to your lips.

Jason watches you; he has been since you first stumbled upon them in a less than satisfactory suit. You were bleeding from a run-in with several muggers but smiling through your pain because you managed to make someone feel safe in Gotham; a rare feat unless you’re Batman. Instantly drawn to you, Red Hood has let himself get close enough to consider you a friend but not close enough to talk to you or worry incessantly about where you are through the day.

You say something, and Jason shakes his head to escape his memories of you, focusing on you and your dry-lipped smile. The winds are blowing up the building and into your face even as he blocks the worst of it, and your rosy cheeks amplify Jason’s growing concern. He wants to offer his jacket to you, even his chapstick – an unwelcome idea of kissing you to share it enters his mind, but he shoves it away. Or tries to; the imagined feeling of your lips on his is hard to shake.

After your question goes unanswered the second time, you wonder if Red Hood fell asleep under the helmet. He jerks sideways when you slide your hand into his pocket. His grip falls away from the holster on his thigh when he realizes it’s just you. (Though he’d never think 'just you' about anything.) You pull your hand out of the worn leather jacket, a small white tube in your grasp. Keeping your eyes on the small eye slits of the mask, you uncap the balm and put it directly on your lips.

“Thanks,” you say, smiling as you place it back in his pocket before turning away.

Anyone else, and he’d throw it away, unwilling to share such a personal item, but since he just thought about sharing it in a much different way, he doesn’t mind the idea of you doing it again. He’ll have to remember which pocket he put it in and leave it there for you, he decides.

✯✯✯✯✯

“It’s freezing,” you groan, rubbing your arms as you walk inside the warm apartment. “Why can’t we move to Metropolis?”

Jason laughs at you, his best friend. Since he developed what Dick refuses to call anything but “a crush” on his vigilante partner, he’s wondered what this thing with you is. You are his friend, of course, but there is something more there. Jason has never been good with feelings, and he’s in a strange spot between two women who affect him, similar yet completely different in how he responds.

“Because we can’t afford it,” Jason hums, welcoming you onto the couch beside him.

You slide your cold feet under his sweatpants-clad legs, sighing when he lays his arm over your shoulders.

“We who, Mr. Trust Fund Wayne?” you tease, leaning your head against his upper arm. “Thanks for inviting me over, though, even if I did get frostbite on the way.”

Jason chuckles, stopping short when he remembers something someone else said after fighting Mr. Freeze during a riot at Arkham. Shaking his head, he determines that he has a type.

“I’m stealing this,” you interrupt his reading, pulling a hoodie from the back of his couch.

“Be my guest,” he murmurs, watching you pull it over your head. You feel warmer beside him after a few minutes, and when you dig a small tub of lip balm out of your pocket, Jason wonders if he should move to Metropolis.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Where did it go?” Jason says to himself, barely audible through the voice modifier of the mask.

“Whatcha looking for?” you ask, dropping to the fire escape beside Red Hood. He doesn’t answer, but when you realize all his attention is focused on one pocket, you know. “Really? I need it again, too,” you lament.

Red Hood sighs, turning toward you. Your lips still look fine, with no sign of chapping in sight. Deciding he needs it more than you do, Jason seizes the opportunity.

Pushing his helmet up, he grabs your face between his warm, gloved hands. Pulling you against him, Jason presses his lips to yours, moving with you as the moisturizing gloss spreads across his lips.

“Better?” he asks, smirking before his face is hidden behind his helmet again.

Your face is still in his hands as you nod. “Nightwing took it,” you whisper.

Jason rolls his eyes and leans forward, whispering, “Who needs it when I have you?”

“You do,” you reply, dumbfounded and breathless from the kiss you’ve admittedly been daydreaming about. “I got mine from you.”

Red Hood laughs, and it warms you from the inside out. You think for a moment you’ve heard that laugh before, but then the idea disappears.

✯✯✯✯✯

The next day, you beat Jason back to his apartment after leaving the manor. Letting yourself in, you walk to his bookshelf to see if he’s gotten any new books. A leather jacket is lying on the floor beside the shelf, and when you pick it up, something falls out of the pocket.

“Hey,” Jason greets, closing the door behind him.

Turning, you hold the chapstick up, looking at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

“Yeah?”

He comes to your side, his brows pinched.

“Are you-“

You drop everything in your hands before grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him down to you. As you kiss him, everything clicks into place.

Falling in love with Jason and Red Hood simultaneously wasn’t some cruel trick of fate or a mistake… you’d been with the same guy all along.

Pulling back, Jason takes a moment before opening his eyes. He blinks at you several times, trying to speak and failing.

“Really?” you ask, tilting your head. “I see that made a much bigger impact on me than it did on you.”

Jason still can’t answer, his mind going over each similarity that he should have caught on to, each mirrored movement or similar response. Your kiss, though… your kiss is unmistakable. He believed his lies about the touches and the words, but nothing can compete with your affection.

“Thank you,” Jason whispers, pulling you close again.

“For what?” you ask, brushing your fingers through the white streak in his hair. “It took me way too long to realize.”

“For everything,” he answers before kissing you again.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your first patrol after learning not just Red Hood but everyone’s true identities is interesting. Bringing your own protection against the current blizzard, you're grateful for the foresight after you get separated from Jason.

Waiting near Arkham and shivering in the cold, you don’t hear the crunch of boots on snow until Red Hood grabs your waist and spins you around. Without his helmet, only a domino mask to protect his identity (pointless in the dark storm), he doesn’t wait before pressing his lips to yours, eager to try a new flavor and get more of you. After waiting so long and being tortured by his tragic decision to love two women at once, Jason deserves to show you how much he cares for you twice as often as he wishes. And if you start buying crazy lip balm flavors to mess with him, he’ll love you even more for it.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd

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tacitoru · 14 hours

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Gojo wants to try your cherry lip balm.

He tracks the slow, methodical slide of the balm against your chapped lips and licks his own.

Back, forth.

The east coast sun is oddly sweltering for a spring afternoon, but Satoru has been taking the swift change in weather to stride. More than happy to strip down to basketball shorts with his bare back warming to the sun. To be on a court outdoors, where he feels like he’s got a little more room to breathe.

It makes him excited for summer, when the semester would be over, the season behind them, a little more free time on their hands. He wants to check out the beach on this side of America. See if the ocean is as blue as his jerseys like his host university claims. Barbecue and bikinis, shaved ice and sunscreen. He can practically taste the saltwater taffy if he closes his eyes for long enough. After a long winter, the sudden heat wave feels like a blessing.

Had felt like a blessing.

Back, forth.

The motion is practiced. Instinctive. It’s like you hardly notice you’re applying the salve, staining a darker shade of red with each pass. But you definitely notice him noticing.

“You’re staring.”

“I’m not!”

For a lumbering mammoth of a man, Satoru boasts a pout that would put the cutest three-year-old to shame. The rebuttal is immediate, slips out before he even has the decency to glance away while denying it.

You give him your best glare over the line of your shades and cap the cherry-red Chapstick with a sharp snap! nonetheless. Roll your mouth to spread the balm over evenly, then gesture for him to gather his things. Satoru’s eyes struggle to leave your face as he scoops up his duffle bag and basketball. He’ll obsess over the motion of your lips, pursing and unfurling over your teeth for days.

Your bottom lip comes back a bit shinier than the top and Satoru has to stop himself from wetting his own again. For nights.

“D’you want some water? Or something? You shouldn’t keep licking your lips like that.” You admonish, hardly paying him any mind as you pass him your water bottle, and in that moment Satoru recognizes the bits and pieces of you that mirror Suguru. The way you sigh his name, try to set him straight, albeit with a lot less of the easy familiarity his counterpart carries.

You mumble, cut your gaze in the opposite direction, turn in on yourself not a second after you’ve scolded him. Like you’re still afraid he’ll bite you.

You don’t wait for him to drink, already turning your back to march towards the gravel parking lot where Suguru’s car idles nearby. Satoru spots where your balm stains the lip of the plastic water bottle a translucent light pink and presses it against his mouth. Takes a sip, tongue swiping over the rim.

Maybe he will.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #geto suguru #geto x reader #probasketball!gojo #collegebasketball!gojo #wip:pleaser #pleaser #wip #jjk #eren x reader #satosugu #gojo x geto #gojo satoru x geto suguru #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff

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stupidlovergirl · 4 months

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Kiss Me, Beneath the Milky Twilight Dev Notes: I'm trying to write more for February, but I don't know if I'll succeed. The title comes the lyrics from the song Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer

Lucifer’s kisses taste faintly like apples a lot, but primarily like coffee and tea. It’s a fresh but bitter taste, but coming from him, it tastes sweeter than usual. His lips are pretty soft, not really chapped much. They’re very nice, as he likes to keep a healthy appearance

“What are you doing today?” he asks, pouring the tea into the pretty porcelain. He sets it down and looks up at you as he hands you the cup.

“I promised Beel to go with him to this new cafe, and then in the afternoon I’m going with Simeon and Luke to look at the farmer’s market” You make the tea, adding everything you wanted.

“Ah, busy day then?” He says as he takes a drink, looking up over his cup.

“Yeah, it seems to be” You laugh softly, leaning back into the couch, taking a drink of your own tea. After idly chatting and filling each others’ days. After you finish your drink and stand, Lucifer follows quickly after, walking with you to the door.

“I’ll see you later, my love” Lucifer says, and leans in, softly kissing you. Easily you respond, happily receiving it. The taste faintly of the tea he drank, and underneath it the coffee and poison apple he had earlier. A taste so uniquely Lucifer, that it is even more pleasant. As the two of you part, you smile softly up at him.

“Another?” you ask, but he was already leaning in.

Mammon’s kisses are as unique as him. He always starts off hesitant at the first, but easily falls into it, putting all of himself into it as he kisses you like it’s the last, and when you pull away he always tries to follow, reluctant to stop. He tastes sweet and spicy, a vanilla and cinnamon combo of his lip balm, smearing across your own. He can never have just one, having to have at least three to be happy with it all.

“Nooo” Mammon whines, clinging to your waist as you attempt to get up. “I can’t believe yer leavin’ the Great Mammon”

“I’m just getting a drink!” You complain, trying to pull his arms off, but being quite unsuccessful. After a few moments, you sit back down with a huff, and Mammon easily slides his upper half into your lap, flashing the grin he uses during modeling up at you. Glaring down at him, you grab a pillow off to the side and quickly push it into his face, causing him to splutter as he fights it off. After escaping your cruel attempts to suffocate him, he grabs one next to him and hits you with it, which leads to the all out pillow war between the two of you, laughing loudly as you hit each other with the pillows. After you both settle down, you smile at him, leaning and placing your head against his chest.

“Love you” you mumble softly, smiling and breathing heavily,

“As you should! Everyone loves the Great- Hey!” He yelps as you pinch him lightly, glaring, but the smile on your face and amusement in your eyes show there is no real anger.

He grins, looking down, before placing a kiss on your lips. You smile, and easily push yourself up to capture his lips more. You pull away, his mouth trying to follow as you adjust to a more comfortable position, before kissing him again. You hum softly, pulling away again, and put your forehead against his, as his pretty blue eyes flutter open, staring into yours.

“I love ya’ too” He mumbles, before chasing your lips again, searing another kiss on your lips.

Leviathan’s are on a spectrum, sometimes there needy, trying to make sure you know how much he loves you. Other times, they’re shy, barely able to connect without flustering and trying to run away. He tries his best, though. He always kinda tastes a little acrid, taurine is embedded into his DNA at this point. His lips are chapped, and he bites and pulls on the skin so sometimes the skin cracks and sometimes splits, so you have to be careful.

“Leviiii” You call out, swinging his door open and entering, smiling widely. Levi looks up, clicking the spacebar on his keyboard before swiveling to look at you.

“What are you watching?”

With a few steps, you stand before him, holding out a bufo milk tea to him as you peer at the screen.

“Oh! It’s this anime about this party that’s in a dungeon and-” with a swiftness only Levi can manage he spills the plot of the anime he’s watching as you settle yourself down in his room, dragging a chair to him.

“And they fought these-” and with a smile, you kiss him, soft and quick, before pulling away.

“And they fought what?” You ask, teasing slightly as Levi looks, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

“YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT!” he screeches, covering his face as furious red covers his face. A laugh escapes you, giddy and delighted at his reaction. Grabbing his hands and smiling as you pull his hands away from his face.

“Fine, fine” you say, giggling softly. “Can I kiss you?”

“...mrphh, yes…please?” he asks softly, eyes casted off to the side. With ease, you lean in again, kissing him again. It’s slightly acrid, as usual, the taste of D Energy lingers on his lips, but the sweetness of the tea quickly follows. His chapped lips are rough, but it is so uniquely him. As you pull away, he hides away in your neck as you hum, rubbing his back, humming in delight.

Satan's kisses are quite plain, maybe having the lingering smell of vaseline, as he isn’t particularly fond of flavored lip balms. He always starts gentle, very romantic and traditional, but after a few, it’s like he’s hungry, never wanting to part, slightly nipping at your lips. He just can’t help himself, it’s an instinct to him. He likes the way it feels you look soft and wide-eyed.

You rest, snuggled up together underneath the blanket. A detective show hums on in the background, adding to the ambiance of the rainy day, creating a melody of warmth between the percussion of the rain and the woodwinds of Satan’s breathing. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you push yourself deeper into his arms. Closing your eyes as you listen to his heartbeat.

“Are you sleepy, darling?” He says, rubbing your arm softly. “No, just comfy” your eyes crack open with a slowness, and first you see the soft grin on Satan’s face, and then the fondness in his eyes. His hands move to hold your face in between them, as he leans down to kiss you softly, so sweet. Easily, your own go to his shoulders, finding a grounding point between the soft passion.

“You’re so pretty” he says as he pulls away, eyes filling with an intensity. Then he leans in again, more intense, pouring more love into it as he kisses you with a steady recklessness. It goes on, slowly increasing till his teeth bite into your bottom lip, not hard, but enough that there will be a slight indent. As he pulls away, soft breaths pull into his lungs as he does, eyes flutter open, he grins.

“Have I told you that you’re perfect?”

Asmodeus tastes super sweet. A sugary cherry that lingers long after, underlined with nutmeg. Sticky, most of the time, from lip glosses and lipsticks. Always leaving a mark wherever his lips trace over. He always giggles and looks adoringly at the marks, smiling. He also looks just as pretty, with the soft smear of the color on his lips, slowly fading with each time he leans in, placing them with smug smiles and soft giggles, murmurs about how his color is just right on you.

“Darling, what about this one?” Asmo calls from where he sits at his vanity, turning to look at where you lay on his bed, starfished out. With a soft laugh, he stands up and comes to hover over you, looking down.

“It looks pretty, compliments your hair,” You gaze up at where he hovers above you, the pink lipstick shimmers bright on his lips, “The glitter matches you as well”

Compliments come naturally at this point, because it’s true, Asmo is pretty, and everything looks good on him. He hums, pushing a lock behind his ear, before leaning down, pressing a kiss onto your lips. It’s good, unnaturally good. Good in a way that only Asmodeus could be good. So sweet that it’s addicting, and you know you never want it to stop. Unfortunately, he breaks away, looking down at you again. He hums, before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your forehead, then kisses your cheek. You can feel where it’s transfering onto your own skin, soft and slightly sticky.

“Hmm…” he hums softly, before returning to your lips, even more intense this time, stealing your breath away. He pulls away, despite the soft huff you release as he does so, and he looks down at you again, eyes alight.

“Yup! This is the one!” He says, humming as he walks back to his vanity.

Beel’s kisses are slightly sloppy, and tends to have a unique taste due to all the food he eats. Sometimes they are super sweet, the taste of frosting and fruit making it pleasant, to some unique tastes like the experimental fusion food he just tried. It always leaves you guessing, but for the most part you’ve gotten used to it, because you rather give Beel a kiss than see the sad look on his face whenever you deny him because of his eating habits. He does carry around those tiny one use toothbrushes whenever it gets too much for you. He is VERY soft and gentle, he doesn’t want to hurt you. Very cute about it all

You swing your hand, linked with Beel’s much larger one as you walk down mainstreet, looking through windows of the shops, pointing at the different items and talking about them, while Beel munches on whatever food he’s acquired. You squeeze his hand softly as you look up at him, grinning as he eats the crepe in his hand, full of whipped cream and fruit.

“Is it good?” you ask, after he swallows his bite, grinning at the whipped cream on his upper lip.

“Mhm, the fruits are fresh,” he squeezes back, looking at you. “Do you want a taste?”

With the question, he slightly tilts his head, and you are reminded of a puppy, which makes your smile widen even more.

“Sure” you say, but before he can lift it up to your lips, you grasp his shirt, pulling him closer. He complies, confused, before you kiss him, which he accepts with ease, a small grin on his lips. It was a quick kiss, gentle and soft despite all his strength. As you pull away, you lick your top lip, tasting the whipped cream that smeared there.

“Pretty good there, love”

“Mm, not as sweet as you”

Belphie has a unique way of kissing. Very slow and lazy, but it’s still pretty cute cause he subconsciously makes soft noises. Just low hums and a few purrs as he kisses you. He really REALLY likes being able to kiss you awake, and when you do it to him. He likes the trust you put in him to allow him to do it. I think he personally has surprisingly really nice lips. He uses a honey chapstick to avoid the nuisance of cracked lips. He is can be really annoying and pretend he’s going to kiss you but pull away and won’t give in till you beg, shameless king

A soft kiss placed on the tip of your nose, which makes it scrunch up. You groan softly, going to bury your head into the pillows. Though, that’s quickly thwarted when hands move your face, and a soft, unhurried kiss is placed on your lips. You reciprocate with the same unhurriedness, and when they disappear, you finally open your eyes. There Belphie was, his eyes drooped to show he hasn’t been up much longer than you.

“Hey” he rasps out, smiling, hands rubbing your side with a soft smile. You groan, moving to shove your face into his chest. A soft rumbling sounds from his throat, making you smile as you inhale the smell of his detergent. He kisses you again, the soft purring making it even more warm. You laugh as you separate again. As you go to kiss him again, he moves his head away.

“Belphie” you say, moving even closer, but he just flips around, facing his back to you. You gape, huffing softly as you crawl over him to reach his face, but he just yanks the blanket over his face, laughing as you try to tug it away.

“Belphie!” you say, exasperated, but a laugh bubbling underneath it, as he laughs also

“I think you forgot something” he say, lowering the blanket to show the top half of his face, eyes full of mischief’

“Can I have a kiss?” you ask, rolling your eyes as a smile crosses your face

“You can do better than that, little star” he says, eyes crinkling from his hidden smile

“Can I have a kiss, please?” You lean in, looking him right in the eyes. He laughs, lowering the blanket.

You lean in, kissing him, and the purring gets even deeper.

#lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #obey me x reader #obswd x reader #lucifer x you #mammon x you #leviathan x you #satan x you #asmodeus x you #beelzebub x you #belphegor x you #obey me x you #obswd x you #bunny's.game.collection

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muwapsturniolo · 3 months

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✯Sturniolos as Half-bloods✯

Goddess version

God version

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Chris would be the son of Aphrodite

Aphrodite is the goddess, of love, beauty, and desire. I think it makes perfect sense for him to be her son. I could see him always wearing some shade of pink (preferably a baby pink), pearl earrings, and just being the most wholesome person ever. He already is wholesome (besides the times when he is being an absolute menace) but it would definitely be elevated. With his mother being the goddess of love and beauty, he would do his best to ensure everyone feels loved and beautiful. Being stationed in camp half-blood, he would give all the girls flowers, brightening up their day and complimenting them on their beauty. When it comes to males, he would hype them up and play cupid, encouraging them to talk to the girls/males they have a crush on.

His cabin is number ten, and I would imagine it to be right by the water, the sun always shining in. His room in the cabin would be white with pink and creme accents. Pink silk bedding, a white desk, and a gold-encrusted mirror. It's no secret that Aphrodite is a bit vain, so he would put a lot of effort into his looks. His hair would sit perfectly, being brushed and combed with a rose-quartz hair tool. His skin would be clear and almost reflective. His lips would never be chapped, tinted softly with a pink lip balm. He would often show off his body, going for swims with the son of Poseiden (Nate possibly) his shirt being off, his abs prominent. A smirk would adorn his face knowing both males and females were fawning over him.

Going on to the desire and sexuality aspect. He knows he's handsome asf and he would use it to his advantage. He would flirt with multiple girls, even managing to get a few in his bed, but it would stop when he meets who he believes is the love of his life. The daughter of Hades.

Aphrodite's animal representation is usually doves and swans. In Chris's case, I think his would be a baby doe.

In the Percy Jackson series, Aphrodite's children didn't have many powers but the one that stands out would be charm speaking, almost like a siren song. Chris would definitely possess this power, being a smooth talker to get who and what he wants. As for a weapon, I could see him having a rose quartz shield paired with a sword, the handle of the sword being gold and white. The shield would be disguised as a ring, and the sword would be in the form of a pearl necklace.

his songs:

" He want lipstick, lipgloss, hickeys too" kiss me more- Doja cat

"Drop of a hat she's as willing as ,playful as a pussy cat" killer queen- queen (i like the 5sos version)

"i was made for lovin you baby and you were made for loving me" I was made for loving you-kiss

can't lie, all I was thinking about while writing Chris's part was @gamermattsgf fic silk ribbons 😭

Matt would be the son of Demeter

Demeter is the goddess of agriculture/harvest. Considering Matt has been the designated driver, does the laundry, and is labeled the navigator, I feel like this suits him. Agriculture is very important and tbh, without it, nothing in the world would work. I could see him always wearing jeans or overalls (barking at the thought of him wearing overalls omfg), he would wear a wife beater or a simple black t-shirt (preferably cropped teehee). He always would have his horse chain on, never taking it off, even when he's getting his hands dirty. Matt's quiet so I feel like that would carry on into the halfblood universe. He would stay near his cabin unless he was training or cooking in the camp kitchen. He would talk to a few people but would mostly keep to himself.

His cabin is number four, I would imagine it to be located near the back of the camp, close to mountains, and having a lot of land to farm. I would think it would be more of a rustic vibe, very serene. A lot of browns, cremes, with hints of green. A statue of his mother would be perched right in the middle of his backyard. He would sit next to it, offering her grains and cups of water as the sound of nature buzzed around them. Due to his mother being the goddess of harvest, he was in control of the food for the camp. He's basically a farmer. With being a farmer, there are multiple animals, his favorite being the horse. He would have an array of horses, his favorite being a pearl white horse he named Lucky. He would always take hikes along the trails, and teach other half-bloods how to care for the horses and how to ride them as well.

I could see him having a crush on Poesiden's daughter. It would be a beautiful relationship, after all, you cant grow plants or food without water.

In the Percy Jackson series, Demeter's children did possess powers. The ones I feel Matt would possess would be enhanced growth, (manipulate plant growth which would come in handy during battle.. He would also possess the power to manipulate seasons. It wouldn't be anything crazy, but he could make the temperature rise or fall drastically. His weapon of choice would definitely be a lasso, made with a golden thread. He would definitely ride on a horse, Lucky being the horse in question. The lasso would be disguised as the chain to his horse necklace, and the horse pendant itself would be Lucky.

Demeter's animal representation is usually a snake, pig, turtle doves, and a screech owl. The horse was also mentioned due to Poseiden creating the horse as a form of affection for Demeter. For Matt, I know for a fact his animal would be a horse (like I said multiple times) and a dog. Since I do think his love choice would be the daughter of Poseidon, he would gift her a horse.

His songs:

"I climbed a mountain and I turned around, and saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills" Landslide-fleetwood mac

"The dog days are over, the dog days are over. Can you hear the horses? Cause here they come." dog days are over- florence + the machine

"I've been searching for a trail to follow again, take me back to the night we met." the night we met- lord heron.

Nick would be the son of Athena

Athena is the goddess of war, wisdom, and craft. It's no secret Nick loves the idea of wielding a sword in a horse-drawn chariot, so this is perfect for him! He would always wear reds, golds, and black. I can deff see him wearing black docs for training, as well as jeans and some type of long sleeve. His attitude is very fierce, and he has a slick mouth. With his slick mouth comes wisdom, he's just very harsh with it. He is definitely the best fighter in the camp, being labeled as the winner and leader. I wouldn't say he was always looking for a fight but, he isn't afraid to get his hands dirty.

With his cabin being number six, I would think it's located near the training center of the camp. Lots of dirt and mud trails, and weapons being thrown across the front of the cabin. His room would have wooden flooring, with a four-post bed. The bedding would be plain white sheets with red satin pillowcases and a big red blanket. A bust of his mother would sit on his nightstand, a blade perched next to it. With fighting being in his blood, I could see multiple shields and swords in the bedroom as well, maybe some mounted on the walls.

As far as relationships go, he would want someone who is equally as skilled in fighting and can handle his mouth. With that being said, he would deff have his eyes on the son of Apollo. His archery skills and knowledge would captivate Nick.

In the Percy Jackson series, Athena's kids didn't have powers, they just had really good intelligence and fighting skills, as well as craftsmanship. Nick would have very good craftsmanship, constantly fixing things for people in camp half-blood, building buildings, etc. I also think he would be the one to come up with battle strategies during dire situations. His choice of weapon would switch between a sword and a staff. The sword and staff would be much like the son of Poseidon's, disguised as a pen. His staff would be disguised as a ring as well, throwing it up into the air and catching it in a dramatic yet impressive fashion. A horse-drawn chariot wouldn't be possible, so he does take one of Matt's horses instead.

Athena's animal representation is an owl. Despite Nick's fear of birds in real life, I do think he would take after his mother with the owl. The owl would alert him when there is danger near , and guide him in battle.

His songs:

"If it makes me a king, a star in your eyes" all for us- labyrinth

"And if you complain once more, you'll meet an army of me" army of me- Bjork

"And I had a thought about wreaking havoc on an opposition, kinda shocking, they want static with precision." enemy- imagine dragons

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im in love with this!!!! im deff going to do a version for the gods!!!

TAGLIST🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @luv4kozume @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3 @mattslolita

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kaananbotanica · 7 months

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buggyswritingcorner · 1 year

Text

Sully kids fluff HCs

so uhmm brain filled with avatar 2, enjoy

kisses and general hcs

masterlist

Kiri

Soft, tender and shy is the best way to describe her kisses

She’s a golden heart with a pure soul and it translates into her kisses

She holds your hands for suree

Always runs up to you when you return from a hunt or battle to check for injuries and rewards you with a kiss if she finds none

If you are injured, she practically drags you into Mo’ats tent

And then gives you cuddles and kisses when you’re healed

Loves to go out into nature far away from the village

She feels at home with the plants and animals, with the dirt and sand

You often lay on the massive leaves of the forest or later the beaches surrounding the village of the Metkayina clan, and listened to nature’s breath

The birds that sung in the branches and the waves that rolled in the ocean

Braiding each other’s hair>>>

Her sassy attitude and you being the only one who can handle it

Always taking care of Tuk together

That shawl she wears? You made it for her

She never takes it off

Morning, day, night

She even sleeps with it

Lo’ak has tried to take it as a prank

He ended up with a black eye and scratch marks on his forearm

She takes your gifts VERY seriously 😊

Lo’ak

Boy likes to act tough

Spoiler: he is a mess

Sooo flustered when you make eye contact

Basically blushing 24/7 whilst in a 10m radius of you

He’s got such a brave heart and a determination to prove himself

He kisses as such too

Excited and a bit rushed

Wants it all

Literally takes everything you will give him

Kinda chapped lips

He doesn’t hydrate enough

So, you have to run after him with the pandora equivalent of lip balm all the time

He doesn’t mind you pampering him of course

But he’d never admit it

He’s too much of a “man”

Hip touches

Tapping, caressing, light slaps

You know what I mean

Pulling each other’s tails cuz you’re stupid teenagers flirting

Neteyam

He’s got that oldest child angst

Prepare to pamper this man constantly

Like do not shower him with attention CRUSH him with it

Daddy’s soldier is not a soldier with you

He’s always talking about feelings, not just that he’s sad or ranting like EVERYTHING

How happy he is how hungry he is how angry he is how sleepy he is you’re gonna hear it all

Just hug him and listen

And ofc kiss him

He loves when you kiss his forehead, like so much

His kisses are softer yet more mature than Lo’ak’s

His hands definitely go to your back and hair

You have to braid his hair cause he’s too lazy

In fact, he just wants you to play with his hair

He really enjoys dancing

You two twirling around each other at the firepit at a celebration

Loves music more than his siblings, could listen to it all day

Matching accessories >>>>>

Necklaces, belts, bracelets

It just subtle enough to let everyone know you two belong together

#sully kids #avatar 2 #neteyam #neteyam x reader #kiri #kiri x reader #loak #lo'ak #loak x reader

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mazeinthemiroh · 11 months

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you need a holiday [part 3]

pairing: hongjoong x best friend! reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers, slow burn / slow romance, comfort, slight crack

word count: 1.2k

warnings: cursing, allusions to mental health issues

summary: hongjoong is surprised to find himself at the airport. he didn't think he could do it, but here he was, a suitcase clutched in his hand as he marched to find you.

author's notes: you can find part 1, part 2 , and part 4 here. thanks for all your support for the past two! this part is getting more into the romance/fluff territory, which you guys have been awaiting! i hope you guys enjoy <3 part 4 will be coming out soon ~

'I think your little friend will be joining you after all.'

That's the text you received last night from Wooyoung. And God, you hoped he was right. But still, there was a lot of uncertainty with Hongjoong.

Considering how he has been recently, you couldn't predict his behaviours. He was usually quite a predictable guy. He ordered the same drink at the coffee shop, he painted his nails to match his current hair colour, and he reacted the same way each time when you told him to take a break.

Take a break.

Those words echoed through Hongjoong's mind as he bounded through the airport, the handle of his suitcase clutched in his hand as his pace quickened. His face was covered by a simple white mask, and he wore a black beanie on his head, pulled down to cover his forehead fully.

He felt stressed, agitated. It was only when he saw you, sitting in the seating area and scrolling on your phone, that he felt himself relax. His shoulders dipped as he let out a deep, hearty sigh. 'Breathe,' he told himself, 'Breathing is good.'

Honjoong finally decided to move, before he stood in front of you, releasing the suitcase from his hands so that the handle collided with the floor, making you look up from your phone.

Your eyes were wide at his abrupt appearance, but soon replaced by a knowing look and a small grin.

"Hey, sexy. Fancy seeing you here."

The plane was completely full. A baby in the back was already screeching at the top of its lungs, and the plane wasn't in the sky yet. Many people get themselves organised into their seats, some arguing over which seat number was who's. Suitcases and backs were flung into the compartments at the top. It wasn't was Hongjoond was used to.

Recently, due to his lavish work lifestyle, he had the privilege of travelling more privately, with the comfort of himself and the members, no one else. Travelling so publicly was putting him on edge a bit, along with the fact that he had felt he had abandoned his work for a couple of days of bliss.

Was it going to be worth it?

"Nice fit," you complimented him as your eyes flicked through the brochure of good the plane service provided. Hongjoong was, in fact, wearing a hoodie you bought him for his birthday. He exhaled through his nose and nudged you playfully, before smoothing down his clothes and making sure he was comfortable. Well, as comfortable as you could be when you had limited foot room.

"So," your voice was bright and chipper. You seemed to thrive in the morning hours, while Hongjoong was a night owl. It made your dynamic feel a bit off, with Hongjoong behaving unintentionally like a grumpy cat. You wanted to squish his cheeks and ruffle his hair aggressively, but you figured he'd probably bite you. "What made you change your mind about this trip?"

Hongjoong sighed and gazed out the window. He eyed the stairs being taken away from the side of the plane. The engines were on and rearing to go. This was it.

"You hounded on at me. Then Seonghwa. And then Eden," Hongjoong's hands reached up to touch his chapped lips, before diving into his hoodie pocket in search of his lip balm. "So what choice did I have?"

You hummed, not sure how to feel about his answer.

"Sounds like you're getting weaker, Captain," you teased, whilst dragging out your own lip balm for him to use (he seemed to be having immense trouble trying to find his own.) He gave you a nod of thanks and smoothed the balm over his lips, letting out a small laugh at your comment.

"My friends and my crew have eroded my fierceness over the years," he joked, "I'm all soft now. People will no longer fear me."

"People never feared you," you snorted and rolled your eyes, "you think you're an actual pirate?"

Hongjoong was always very aware that he might intimidate people. He never wanted to. But perhaps he was so serious about work or so focused on saying the right things in social situations that, when he was by himself, he would think he was too intense. He was oh so aware of himself, and it drove him crazy.

But he always assumed the worst. You knew no one disliked him because, well, how could they? A leader, trying his hardest to get everything into place, striving for perfection whilst being considerate and compassionate and caring for everyone involved. There was nothing to be afraid of with him. He was honest, truthful, genuine; people knew what they were going to get with him. And there was nothing to be afraid of about that.

The cabin crew went through all the safety procedures. The usual seat-belt, life-jacket, oxygen-mask shenanigans. And then you felt the plane move onto the runway.

"It's like in Turbulence," Hongjoong hummed, trying to make light of the situation despite his confused emotions as he gazed out the window, "it was so cool watching Wooyoung film his part on the runway-"

He turned to face you and his face turned to be full of worry as he caught sight of your low gaze and heavier breathing.

"Hey, what's up," his voice was filled with concern. The plane shook slightly.

You raised your gaze to meet his slightly, "It just freaks me out when the plane takes off. The shaking the loudness, the uncertainty. I know, it's me being silly but-"

"You're not silly," Hongjoong shook his head, "It's going to be okay."

You nodded and stared intently, eyes sparkling a bit. He was a very affirming presence, and would always put other's worries ahead of his own. It was how he coped. If he wasn't focusing on his own problems, he was less likely to worry about them. Caring for other people was such an alluring conviction for him.

"Can I hold your hand?" You asked quietly, so quietly that you thought he had imagined it at first. "Just for the lift-off?"

Hongjoong's lips parted as he looked at you softly, his hand already edging to yours. And when he grasped your hand in his, it was strong and affirming. A gentle squeeze of reassurance, telling you it was all going to be okay.

The plane shook as it sped up, shooting down the runway to gain momentum. Your grip on his hand tightened and your eyes were closed, trying to relax your breathing. He kept an eye on you, his thumb stroking the outside of your hand for an extra tingle of assurance.

A moment more, and the plane was in the air. You let out a sigh of relief and opened your eyes. Still alive.

"You alright?" Hongjoong asked, a small smile on his lips. He already looked like he was starting to relax, himself. Being up in the air must have confirmed to him that he was going on holiday. A vacation. A break. And no matter how bad he felt for leaving work so abruptly, he couldn't help but feel a small, guilty pleasure about it.

"Yeah," you nodded, "thank you."

You both smiled at each other and gazed down, suddenly realising you were still holding each other's hands.

Releasing your grip on each other, you laughed the brief awkwardness away. You felt heat rise to your cheeks, trying not to think much of it.

But Hongjoong started to miss your touch already.

taglist: @a-wandering-stay, @xlovehwa, @yeosangsbiceps, @anyamaris, @acciocriativity, @hawaiian-angel, @toolovelyforyou, @dutchessskarma, @saltedplum-squid, @dandycharmer, @baek-at-it-again95, @whatisnttakenbynow, @yeosxxx, @chansburgah, @darkmentalitystarfish-blog (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

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2kmps · 10 months

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tao often waits for the nights when alma is out of the apartment to make a move on you.

notes; 0.9k, f!reader, fingering, cum-eating, masturbation, mdni.

often times, the opportunity presented itself to tao on the nights when alma was most restless and spent his time moseying the gokuraku district for one reason or another. sometimes he announced his departure loudly, shrill voice making the apartment quake and spearing her between the eyes with first pulses of a headache—she wished he'd just go quietly.

he was gone this time in such a way that when she left her newspaper behind on the chair, halves split on the armrest, she didn't have dread throbbing in her skull.

you were brought to attention from your beastmen law thesis, eyes flicking off the laptop screen to her nudging the bedroom door shut with her heel. over the past year since moving in with her and alma, it was customary for you to lock yourself away in tao's room for periods of time to study (and for naps).

she never qualmed over sharing her space, seeming to find some solace in your nearness and the clunky rapping of your keyboard filling wordless silence. other nights, like tonight, she'd suggest for you to save your work before casting the laptop aside, somewhere in the cluttered mess of clothes on the floor.

"wanna get your pants out of the way?" she was already knelt between your legs, spiraling the drawstring of your sweatpants around her long finger, undoing the cute bow you made to make it easier to slide her hand below the waistband to your cunt.

you sprawled on your back, working around her fingertips smoothing along your groin, waiting for you to hike your hips to shuck the fabric off your lower half. when you did, she went to work on you.

"I have a deadline, tao. I can't do this all—"

"I'm sure you can handle it." she dismissed, now between your folds, movements fluid when she'd glide higher to pull apart the little sheath of skin hiding your clit from her, all the way down to teasing the tip of her finger in your tight hole.

you wet your bottom lip before reaching for the back of her head, meeting her in a kiss that she controlled with intentional, agonizing slowness. her lips were full against yours, a little chapped but now shared the sweet stickiness of your lip balm.

tao didn't like to move fast when she fucked you out. it's why she preferred to act on the nights when alma wouldn't be around to hear your moans and screams from across the apartment. the sounds you were making now would've been enough to reach through the paper walls.

"tao—" you rolled your hips against her fingers settling on your clit, wetting the hard nub with what had started to seep out of your cunt. already, the pressure built in your gut, coiling tight and uneasy as she stroked you.

she watched your face fall apart, jaw unhinged to show your teeth and tongue, thinking she could feel the reverberation of your moans without her mouth caressing your pulse. this was the best way to gauge what you needed—by seeing that pocket between your brows deepen, eyes squeezed right, hands tucking the fabric of your shirt under your chin so you could play with your own tits.

"how badly do you want me inside you?" dirty talk wasn't her thing, but it always got you wet enough for her to slide her fingers right in. this was true even now as she took the pressure off your clit to bury her two longest digits to the knuckles.

"fuck– tao, please, I want you so bad." you whimpered, purposefully clenching your soft walls around her fingers, more of your slick oozing out to leave a thin glisten on her pale skin. her clothed chest pressed flush to your bare tummy, her hot breath coming down on the gap between your breasts, higher along your sternum until she could feel her nose bump the underside of your jaw. "I'm gonna return the favor so good later."

she curled her fingers up into that gummy spot, the one that made you jolt, hips springing off the mattress. her lips only partially felt the fleshiness of your neck with how fervently you tried to match the pace of her fingers pounding your pussy.

"I expect nothing less." she said, taking one of your hands down the length and curve of your body to envelop your throbbing clit. both of your fingers worked the bundle at first, gathering your slick together to make the glide easier, more intense.

"help me help you." tao left your hand alone to take in the whole sight of you being mostly nude below her, sheets under your ass darkening and damp from your leaking cunt. a delectable chorus of sounds inside the room eclipsed the ruckus of the city nightlife through the window.

she kept her fingers bent up into you, lewd wetness reaching her ears with every slap the heel of her palm made against your skin. your courteous moans had long dissolved into labored pants, the continued effort of your fingers rubbing away at your clit, tao's squeezed by your walls finally let you unravel with a quivering, breathy sigh while the shockwave stiffened your limbs from head to toe.

your eyes rolled up behind the thin veil of your eyelids, vision searing the same white that engulfed your body. "fuck…"

tao slowed the roll of her wrist, letting you ride out your orgasm on her fingers until she was able to slide them out of you with ease. webs of viscous white spread between them, glowing beneath the dim light overhead.

"good girl." she was shimmying one arm out of her coat, the other going to your face to fit her cum-sodden fingers between your lips. "time to make good on your promise."

divider; @/anlian-aishang

a/n: I have not written a fem specific reader in over ten years. the only reason I did is bc I'm down bad for tao and she is so fucking gay-coded 💀

pls, I need ppl to scream with over gokurakugai and tao. I have so many more fic ideas for her.

#gokurakugai #gokurakugai tao #gokurakugai x reader #the gokuraku district's third avenue incident #tao gokurakugai #tao x reader #tao x you #tao x y/n #tao x f!reader #tao x fem!reader #tao gokurakugai x reader #tao gokurakugai x you #tao gokurakugai x y/n #gokurakugai imagines #gokurakugai fic #2k writes

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lilac-5ky · 1 year

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Roommates from Hell, pt.2 (Toji x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 2: 2912

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Story Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: Thanks to everyone who read and enjoyed the first part of the story! I'll do my best to update every 1-2 weeks and to keep things interesting. Feedback and suggestions are always welcome, and if anyone wants to be notified for updates, drop your name in the comments and I'll gladly tag your @.

Warning: Flashback, mentions of violence, blood, and sex toys (odd combo, I know)

2…9…1…2

Deft fingers punched in the numbers on the door’s keypad, a practiced crescendo of beeps and bops granting you access to your flat. Hesitant fingers that dropped to the handle, but refused to push forward, instead anchoring you there. Not yet, you mumbled, your eyes squeezing shut as soon as your forehead hit the frame.

Today has been a long day. So long that you barely had a moment to process the line of rapid escalations as it brought you to this very doorstep, with the ghost of your former scarf dangling from your neck. Some people would rather be glued to the little screens of their little phones than discipline their eight-year-old brats who, for some reason, thought playing tug of war with others’ scarves while they busted their gut to make a leaving to be of utmost entertainment.

Some people ought to keep their genes to themselves, you exasperated, untying the fabric from your neck and then balled it inside your bag, zipping the bunny across the seam.

The bunny…

Toji…

It was becoming a habit of yours to follow up his name with a sigh. Sometimes a sigh that meant “What am I going to do with you?” and others coming from a place of deep longing and frustration, meaning “What am I going to do without you?”

He said he’d be home after “snipping some loose ends,” which in his dictionary either referred to him breaking some poor woman’s heart, or quite literally stabbing some equally unfortunate man’s heart out of his body at his job’s demand. Depending on the plausibility of each scenario, you were given a minimum of four and a maximum of six hours to try and make sense of his actions and devise a plan to make this cohabitation work.

You licked your lips for the millionth time that day, gnawing at the chapped flesh with the edge of your teeth. No lip balm could aspire to salvage their sorry-ass state, aggravated by the low temperatures and honed by your continuous munching on them. You’d become so conscious of their existence, that it seemed as if you were trying hard to erase it before he had the chance to realize his goal of kissing them— even when that was a common goal shared by the both of you.

The taste of metal pooled in the hollow of your mouth, your teeth sinking a tad too deep. There wasn’t much reason to keep contemplating that which never happened and that which, perhaps, would never come. You wiped your shoes on the crooked doormat (was it always crooked?) and walked inside, your legs nearly giving out at the sight of two knees dangling from your beloved couch’s armrest.

“Woah, keep it down, won’t ya?”

None other than the voice of Toji reprimanded you as you screamed at the top of your lungs. His body was spilled across your couch, the expanse of muscles barely fitting upon the three azure-colored pillows. A soda —your soda— nested in his palm, while a bag of empty potato chips —your chips— lay on the kotatsu.

“What the hell are you doing here?!?” A trembling hand reached out to where your heart supposedly was, checking whether it was still in its place.

“Watching some travel show about Chikura,” he answered, unfazed and undisturbed. “You like abalone, right? Why don’t we-”

“I’m asking, how the fuck did you get in here?”

“Oh, that,” Toji smirked, lowering the TV’s volume just when the travel host was about to devour a platter full of steaming hot seafood—mouthwatering enough to divert your attention for a second. “Sayaka let me in.”

“Sa-yaka…?”

“Flat hair, narrow eyes— kinda like Izumi Pinko. Walks around with a cane twice her size. Rings a bell?”

“Talking about Ogawa-san?” you asked, a caricature of your crabby landlady taking shape before your very eyes. “She never lets in anyone without a key, though. Last time I forgot mine, she acted as if she didn’t know me and went right past. Had to phone a locksmith,” you sighed, murmuring under your breath about the extravagant sum of money you were forced to pay. “How did you do it? Convince her to open up?”

“How else ya think?” His chin rotated leisurely atop his knuckles.

“You can’t be serious! Y-you fucked her?” Your eyes went wide like saucers, the notion sounding both feasible and surreal.

His smirk sharpened into a sly grin as he stood up, a slight slouch on his shoulders carrying him to your eye level. You couldn’t exactly look away from this proximity, so you began quietly analyzing him. The tight-fitting black tee and baggy training pants that greatly accentuated his hips and shoulders; his work outfit. The overgrown hair that curtained the dark circles of his eyes; evidence of a sleepless night. The absence of scent, not even of dirt, sweat, or struggle. He must’ve actually been working on a bounty, you deduced, your final thought of rationale as he invaded the last bit of personal space you’d left.

“You really think the worst of me, huh?” His tongue circled his lips, prompting yours to do the same as you sheepishly shook your head, the sultry sound of his voice as hypnotizing as his hooded green eyes were.

“You think I go ‘round spreading the legs of everything that moves?” Toji asked again, his tone growing more condescending by the second. “ ‘fraid that ain’t the case, princess. I’m not into goodwill. Don’t do things without merit, either. She asked who I was, got all perky when I said I’m moving in, and then handed me these,” he paused, throwing a bundle of creased envelopes at your feet.

You kneeled awkwardly, seeking the sender’s origin in each logo seal. Water company. Electricity company. Phone company. Insurance company. Even the bills from that one debit card Hinata issued in your name in case of an emergency.

“Could say I paid my way in,” he scoffed, his eyes searching for an inkling of appreciation that he failed to find in your stubborn squint.

“I could’ve handled these myself.”

“Thought you’d say this, that’s why I saved this one,” he tossed another, smaller yellow-tinted paper onto the pile. “Eviction notice. My, you have it quite hard, don’tcha?”

“I don’t need classes on financial handling from someone whose living conditions are entirely dependent on ‘the bimbo of the week’,” you snapped, rising back to your feet with the bills in hand.

Maybe things were a bit tighter these past few months than you’d accounted for, but you weren’t like him. Sooner or later, you paid all expenses through sheer work and effort— a concept foreign to him, who’d rather be thrown into the streets than save a dime.

You weren’t like Toji. Not one bit. You knew that if he hadn’t run into your landlady, you would have definitely paid all your debts off in a month’s time or two, even if that meant devolving your breakfast’s nutritional value to that of instant ramen. You could take care of yourself, just like you’d done for 14 years now. He had no right to interfere because, come next month, you’d—

But the overdue deadlines at the top of each paper spoke louder than your inner thoughts and bravado did. The next month would never come for you. Not in this house, at least.

Defeated, you unfolded the paper, straightening the creases your fingernails had helped create. You hated feeling this way— indebted. The last thing you wanted was for this to turn into just another transactional relationship with an expiration date dependent on the other’s wage.

“Thank you, and,” you mumbled, your stare hiking up his body and stopping at his chest —right about where the difference in your height manifested— “….sorry, I guess. Just thought that with the way you look, and all that-”

“The way I look…?” A winsome smile tugged at his dimples, his left hand weaving through his hair as if he were oblivious to how effortlessly attractive he appeared in his work clothes, every single crevice of his body visible under the little piece of fabric.

“N-never mind.” You tore your eyes away, cheeks flushing bright red at thoughts a friend shouldn’t be having. “How was work?”

“Pretty dead,” he shrugged, using the same hand to rub some of the tension around the crook of his neck. “Don’t see a real challenge rising until that Gojo kid hatches from his egg. Rest die like flies.”

As a regular person with about an average percentage of cursed energy running through your system, you had little understanding of the mystical world of Jujutsu and its sorcerers, all the information you had acquired being bits and pieces that Toji had shared with you over the years. He never went into too much detail about his job but never hid anything either. He killed sorcerers with the same ease he spread butter on his bread.

You really didn’t understand much, and perhaps the keywords “kills for a living” ought to ring an alarm or two, but an outsider like you who didn’t abide by their rules had no right judging those who broke them. Besides, with the way his family had disposed of him as if he were a chewed piece of gum stuck on the back of their sole, things weren’t as black and white as one would assume.

“Gojo, you say,” the name sounding awfully familiar on your tongue. “Is that one of the three big clans?”

Toji nodded, his arms folding over his chest. “Special grade when he ain’t grown any pubes yet,” he scoffed, voice twisting in an unnatural way that could have tricked you into thinking he was jealous of the young boy.

“Are you gonna kill him?”

His brows knitted together, clearly not expecting such bluntness. “Question is, can I? Answer being, for the right price,” the frown he wore subdued into a crooked smile. “maybe. Kid should fetch one good wad of cash. I’m sure many want the six eyes out of the picture.”

Six eyes?

“Just make sure you save some of it,” you mindlessly said, eyes dancing around the room for the first time since you’d entered the house.

There were no real signs of his presence. The duffel bag seemed to be nowhere in sight either. Only his shoes were left by the door right next to yours, a sign you’d completely missed upon entering.

“What happened to your things, by the way? Don’t see ‘em.”

“Took the liberty of sorting them out,” Toji said. “You had a lot more empty space than you made it sound earlier.”

Somehow that statement terrified you— not because you were some overbearing control freak who didn’t want others interfering with their stuff, but because you feared the misplaced items he might have found casually lying around, providing him with all the excuse he needed to tease you to an excruciatingly slow and shameful death.

You went on a parade through the rooms, Toji following in your steps like a well-trained puppy, letting you freely inspect the new “changes”.

In the living room, you spotted a pair of dumbbells lying by the window, heavy enough that when you tried to pick one of them up, it resulted in one loud, unintentional shriek as your feet were nearly crushed, much to Toji’s vile amusement. Then in the bathroom, you found a second toothbrush that shared the exact same color yours did, along with a black fuzzy towel and a men’s deodorant that was missing its lid. You’d have to get another cup for his toothbrush, you noted, and moved along, eventually making it to your apartment’s sole bedroom.

“Where are your clothes?” you asked, Toji nodding in your closet’s direction.

You opened the first door, finding a series of dark-colored shirts, sweaters, and cardigans hanging from the previously vacant racks. You didn’t wear much color yourself, but when comparing the disparity between his almost exclusively black side of the space and the creamier pastels that predominated yours, the clash in taste was indisputable.

Absentmindedly, you run your fingers through his clothes, stopping at the dark blue parka you’d gotten him for his 21st birthday. He wasn’t the type to keep gifts from women, but seeing he’d preserved yours in mint condition filled you with a strange sense of pride.

“Not bad,” you exclaimed, satisfied with how aptly his clothes were displayed until a new worry surfaced. “What about your underwear?”

He glanced toward the bottom drawer, his instep gently kicking against it. You weren’t too sure if that was necessary, and under different circumstances, you’d rather avoid such overt embarrassment, but this was your house first and foremost. Your closet, your drawer, and—

“The bottom drawer…?” The realization struck like a ton of bricks, your pupils widening and then trembling as a breath hitched up your throat, remaining there.

The bottom drawer is where you kept it, perhaps the only thing in this entire household that you’d rather he didn’t see, at the cost of your own life, even. A rabbit, whose little ears tapped in excitement every time it saw you. A rabbit vastly different from the ones that hopped around happily in fields or the one that was weaved through the zipper of your handbag. A rabbit that had kept you company in his place many nights and knew the sound of his name better than Toji himself did.

Sinking to your knees, you felt his shadow loom over you like the shadow of imminent death. You let go of that breath and yanked the drawer open, eyes squinting at the sight of neatly stacked black boxers, their size big enough to make you arch a brow, yet not big enough to completely conceal 6 inches of hot pink. You were safe.

“Looking for this?” A light buzz rang in your ear, your head tilting to meet Toji’s namesake.

“G-give it back!” You dived forward, gracelessly collapsing at his feet when he pulled it out of reach.

“Come and get it,” Toji retorted, wiggling it before your very eyes.

Piecing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you pounced at him, fingers locking around the silicone and his hand, while he refused to surrender, his thrilled expression revealing just how much he enjoyed the demand in your tone as you bossed him into handing back the vibrator.

“What will I get in return?”

“Wha— why would you get anything?” You gritted your teeth, stumbling forward as he dragged you to him.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he shook his forefinger playfully. “Finders keepers, losers weepers. If ya really want it, better compensate me first. Oh, look, it has multiple speeds, huh….” he said semi-impressed, revving up the rabbit’s switch to its second and third speeds.

“…What do you want?” You practically begged, seeking a way out of this humiliation.

“Now we talking,” Toji smirked, barely restraining himself from ruffling the hair of the ferocious, albeit cute, beast that attacked him. “2912. What do the numbers mean? Tried your birthday first, but seems like you do have a few brain cells in there,” he tapped at your temple with his free hand, frustration pooling in your eyes. “Then your mom’s death anniversary, your sis’ birthday, that brat’s too— even mine, but no good.

“So, what’s 2912 to you? Indulge me, and I’ll let you have it.”

2912, or more accurately, 29/12. It didn’t surprise you that he didn’t remember. After all, it wasn’t an important date, just another winter’s day from many, many years ago. A day that was all but erased under the thick blanket of snow as it engulfed your tender memories.

A heavy sigh parted your lips, and at that moment, you knew you’d already lost.

“You really wanna know?”

It was the 27th of December.

The 27th morning of a month whose sole notable event was the week-long blizzard that’d condemned the entire nation to a period of absolute and unfaltering inertia. Well, as unfaltering as the in-between downpours let it be, snow washing over the streets in a diluted mixture of ice and mud every two days— streets turning into a dangerous minefield, and hospital beds quickly filling up with broken-boned smarty pants who thought wandering out and about in the heart of winter would be as inconsequential as those dull days were.

You were one of those idiots. Not quite, but you were on your way to join their ranks, every step you took across the frozen pavements of Tokyo threatening to leave you with a bad case of a sprained ankle, or worse, a cracked skull. You regretted wearing those worn-out boots today of all days, but then again, your wardrobe choices were limited to whatever clothing you’d grown out of, and the clothes your mother left behind.

This old suede pair was hers, too. A gift from back when your house was still open to crowds and birthday parties— when it wasn’t just an empty carcass of termite-eaten joists and web-infested corners that could barely welcome, let alone host, the final of its residents: yourself.

Returning to the reason why you’d chosen today as the day to stride across Shibuya —a thermos of soothing Butajiru soup gripped tightly between your mitten-clad palms and a backpack full of advertising fliers for your afternoon job attached to your back— and consequentially, the reason why you sported your mother’s beloved shoes: you had a job interview. Your first non-canceled interview in over two months since your personal inertia began when you were suddenly and unjustifiably laid off.

Those were tough times. The entire country was dipped in despair over the biggest economic recession they’d known. Left and right, people had their jobs snatched from within their grasp in the name of meek excuses such as cost reduction, or merging and buyouts, or even staff redundancy, and who could blame those small enterprise owners, really?

In any case, the cost of running your previous employer’s rathole of a convenience store might have been reduced, but your living expenses weren’t, and the supplementary funds the state provided were running dry. No one wanted to hire an inexperienced, uninsured high schooler. It was too much of a gamble, especially when the contenders were overqualified college graduates desperate enough to work menial jobs for the same breadcrumbs a part-timer would.

You were at your wit’s end. Out of luck and starved for something other than vending machine onigiri. Thirsty for a life you’d probably never be able to obtain. But today wasn’t about wallowing in self-pity. No, today was the day you’d take your first step toward normality and dignity. Today, you marched proudly in your mother’s most prized possession, and today you felt her comforting scent linger in the breeze, giving you the much-needed push to achieve what you’d set out to do.

Live. That was the final request that left her lips, and that was exactly what you were planning to do. You’d live. No matter what, against all odds, you would live.

The headlights at the bustling intersection shone a brilliant green as the herd of sharply dressed businessmen and casually dressed students on their day off pushed forward like a troop of toy soldiers, sweeping you past Shibuya River, where the crystallized waters from below its bridge stilled your grimacing reflection.

It’d been so long since the last time you’d genuinely smiled that your facial muscles barely remembered how to. It looked awkward and forced. Foreign. You’d practiced your introduction days ahead, but that damn smile stood in the way. If only there was a “smiles for dummies” playbook, though you doubted it’d help. Those without a reason to smile could only second-guess the happiness of those who were blessed with it.

As if to further test your theory, today’s misfortune came pedaling right in your direction, a hasty biker knocking the thermos off your hands and onto the water with a faint “sorry” echoing in his stead. You ducked over the handrail, spotting the silver shine a couple of meters away from the river’s brink. You sighed in relief, grateful that the impact hadn’t shattered the ice and that you still had about 45 minutes to catch your interview— more than enough time for you to carry out your flask’s impromptu rescue operation.

You walked over to the bridge’s sideline, where, in place of stairs, an overgrown cherry tree cast its shadow. This was far from sensible, but the cliff wasn’t steep enough to dissuade you. You looped your scarf around a leaning branch and began your descent, the non-existent friction between your tattered soles and the slippery cement sending you to meet your maker as you tumbled down the slope and hit the ground. Shit.

Once you were done lamenting your sheer idiocy, your faulty shoes, the tree branch, the weather forecast, and every Shinto deity’s name you could remember off the top of your head, you pushed yourself onto your knees, carefully rotating each ankle around itself. Not broken. Thank those aforementioned gods you cursed, or else you’d never be able to afford the medical bills.

You shook the snow off your clothes and stood up, stretching both arms over your head, only to realize your blunder had become a lonesome spectator’s object of amusement. The man —assuming that the creature behind you was a man and not some wild beast with the way his jacket fluffed over his skull— was bent in half, knees to his chest, and arms coiled around, the sole distinctive trait that of his sparkling green eyes zeroing in on your plainer orbs.

You could have sworn you heard a chuckle, too, but you weren’t about to start a fight with some unhinged bum at the bottom of a bridge— not when you were one missed bill away from sharing his fate.

Deciding to temporarily forsake his presence, you located the now broken branch and attempted to fish your bottle out, moving as close to the ice as you could. Desperate lunges pushed the thermos further in, your hold on the wood relaxing with each failed attempt until you barely had a grip.

“Excuse me!” you turned at your last resort. “Hi, um… could you please help me out here? I dropped this into the water, and it’s really important I get it back, but my arms can’t reach and the ice is so thin and slippery I just might fall.”

An uncomfortable chuckle failed to appease its tough crowd, with the man remaining lost in his thoughts, his eyes blinking slower than traffic lights during rush hours. It seemed like you’d found the worst person to exercise your communication skills with.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Shut up.”

It was your turn to blink in surprise, your jaw dropping at the man’s barking. You were too shocked to be offended and too offended to question if it was you he addressed, but his next sentence left no real room for misunderstanding.

“I said, shut the fuck up and take it elsewhere. You were the one who dropped it. If it was that important to you, then shoulda taken better care of it instead of avalanching your way down here and disturbing my peace.”

Clapping your hands over your agape mouth, you muttered an apology and faced away from him, coming to your senses a minute later when you realized you weren’t in the wrong. Sure, he could be dealing with some lachrymose life-shattering situation you knew nothing about, but that wasn’t an excuse for him to act like a complete jerk to a fellow stranger in need.

You weren’t sure why you held back from flipping him off. Maybe you’d accepted that dealing with douchebags was going to become part of your new reality as a service worker, or maybe it was because you really didn’t want any trouble with a guy who looked this intimidating even while seated. Either way, you whipped out your trusty branch again and neared the brink, this time using it as a cane to help you tread the frozen waters and snatch your thermos.

You didn’t even get a chance at a victorious cheer when you felt the ice shatter beneath your feet, eager to swallow you into the depths of its bottomless abyss. Or that’s what would have happened if the river didn’t cap at 2 meters, and if a hand didn’t yank you by the scruff of your neck, hurling you back to the shore as if you weighed no more than a snowflake.

“The hell you think you are doing? Got a death wish or something?” the brass voice of your savior accused, belonging to a much more pleasant and youthful face than one would have expected.

The boy was more or less your age, about a head taller with broad shoulders and a toned physique his baggy clothes undermined— much stronger than your average high-schooler, judging by the sheer strength he’d flung your body with. Messy raven black hair rained down to his ears, sloppily chopped into shape by their owner himself. Eyes as green as a thousand springs gone by, and as fiery as the blazing fury scorching them. The only discord in his features was that of a scar on the right side of his lips, begrudgingly moving with each profanity he spat.

Your second apology came as a knee-jerk reaction to his outburst, encouraged by the temporal trance his good looks had subjected you to. You wouldn’t say you had a type, and even if you did, you doubted that a no-good, rude bridge inhabitant was it. However, the only way for you to tear your gaze off of him was to physically force yourself away. The guy murmured something under his breath and moved back to his original spot, arms dangling over his spread thighs.

You were unsure of what to do. The time for your interview was closing in, and no one guaranteed he wouldn’t rip the vocal cords off your throat if you tried to verbally thank him. You had a very bad feeling about this guy, and perhaps you should have listened to your gut rather than nullifying the distance with a peace offering.

“Here,” you prodded a spare cup of soup into the empty space between you.

He arched a brow at your gesture, his irritation gradually melting into curiosity and then acceptance as he brought the cup to his lips and took a hesitant sip.

“Hmm,” he hummed, gulping down some more after he’d made sure you weren’t trying to poison him.

You expected something else to follow, but it seemed like his outburst exhausted his vocabulary. You could always ask what he thought of it, but the thought alone was as scary as going for another suicide dive. So you said nothing, and he did the same. Just two strangers who barely tolerated each other sharing a moment of silence in the snowy landscape.

A short while later, the boy shoved the cup toward you and dug his hand in his jacket’s front pocket, dropping about six crumpled ten-thousand yen bills at your feet.

“For the soup,” he explained as if the notion of spending such an extravagant sum on half a cup of pork loin soup made sense.

“Are you outta your mind?” You pushed the bills back at him, lest your greed take over. “How much do you think this cost to make?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged, no real hurry to reclaim his cash.

Your initial impression was completely false. No bum would ever wave ten-thousand bills around as if they were nothing. No, this guy ought to at least be some troubled conglomerate heir that’d run away from his five-bedroom mansion.

“I’m sure you don’t know how dangerous this neighborhood is,” you said, placing your hand against your heart. “But as a born and raised local, allow me to say that if you keep flaunting wads of cash in people’s faces so recklessly, it won’t be long before you get mugged. It’s your lucky day you ran into me and not some sleazy money grabber, but trust me, not every day’s lucky, and not everyone’s as nice.”

Something about what you said must have resonated with him, considering his frown cracked into a simper.

“I’d like to see them try,” he spoke in a cocky tone that reeked of confidence. “How much for seconds then?”

“Not for sale,” you answered, throwing the thermos inside your backpack.

His weight shifted in your direction, chin balancing against his elbow. “Why not?”

“You see, I’m on my way to a job interview. Figured if I don’t cut it, then the soup will,” quickly adding, “It’s my trump card.”

“What a dumb plan,” he sneered. “If ya wanna bribe someone, better make an offer they can’t refuse. Couple of these work like a charm.”

He waved the money again, successfully drawing your interest when you noticed tiny splotches of red on one of the bills. Blood.

Picking up on the change in your expression, he hurriedly stuffed the cash inside his pocket, his thumbs sticking out in a relaxed grip so as to hide his discomfort. The air grew heavy once more, albeit for a different reason.

Every guess you’d made regarding this guy’s identity clashed with the next one. He was rude, but he’d jumped to your rescue. He looked unkempt yet strikingly handsome. He’d taken refuge under a bridge but was damn loaded. A walking (more like seated) contradiction of a man that intrigued you in more ways than he repulsed you.

“So, what are you doing out here? Did you also fall from up there?” You chuckled nervously while pointing upward.

He smiled.

“That’s a pretty old-school pickup line, if ya ask me.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Your chest pounded against your fleece jacket, hands quick to dispute him. “Did something happen? Why did you end up here?”

He shook his head.

“Did you run away from home?”

He shook his head again.

“Did you get into a fight with someone?”

He thought about shaking his head a third time, but instead, he opted for a groan and hissed about how he should have let you drown.

Your tongue embarrassed you yet again, as you mumbled an apology and cowered in your corner. For some reason, you couldn’t stop apologizing to him, and if that was enough to frustrate you, then it was definitely enough to annoy him. Maybe the time to leave had come. You’d done your part in thanking him, and it was really none of your business to pry into his sad character backstory.

“Well then. It was nice knowing you, and all. Hope you have a Happy New Year’s and a nice life, and let’s never see each other again for as long as we-”

“What if I told you I just killed someone?”

The blood in your veins froze for a reason separate from the cold. You were left staring at him with wide-open eyes and a wide-open mouth that refused to form anything other than a soundless “What?!”

“Thought so,” he scoffed as if he expected the outcome, sorrow lingering in his voice. “Go away if ya don’t wanna end up the same way. I’m still getting the hang of it, and I’m afraid it’d hurt more than drowning.”

But you didn’t leave. Even when that little voice of reason thrashed and begged for you to seize the opportunity and get the fuck away from this place, your legs refused to take another step. Instead, you settled back upon the snowy blanket and stilled your gaze on his face, watching a glimmer of something tune in the green of his eyes.

“W-Who was it?” You feigned calmness.

“Does it matter?” he shrugged.

“Why did you kill him?”

“Does it really matter?” he sighed, reconsidering his answer. “Dunno. Money, I guess. Not as if I had a personal grudge or anything. Didn’t even know the dude up until three days ago. Took him out with a single bullet to his brain. T’was instant since he didn’t move. Painless, too.” He tried to humanize his actions.

You weren’t entirely sold on his story, but on the off chance he was telling the truth, that made him a murderer and you a witness to his crime. Worse, if you didn’t rat on him, it made you an accomplice, and as far as you were concerned, neither was less illegal than the other.

Your hands cupped your mouth completely as you pretended to blow hot air, the reality being that you didn’t want to spew anything too backhanded before thinking things through. Oddly, it all made sense. The reason he sat down there like a puppy kicked by his owners. His devil-may-care attitude and rude comments that meant to throw you off. The blood on the bills and the stain on the hem of his jacket that you’d previously overlooked.

That was all the incriminating evidence one needed to possibly sentence him, and yet you sensed no real danger in his presence. Only a deep sadness that stemmed from his lifeless eyes, making you believe that his so-called victim was none other than himself. He looked as if he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep in God knows how long, the light in his eyes reduced to a murky shade of jade now that everything was laid bare.

There was so much you didn’t know about this boy, his name included. But you knew that look of despair all too well. If it was because of money, then maybe, just this once, you wouldn’t mind giving him the benefit of the doubt.

“How much did you make?” You lowered your palms.

Your question surprised him more than he thought possible, and his stupefied expression was a telltale sign of that. He flipped both pockets inside out and let the money fall onto the snow, revealing twice the amount he’d held before— a total of 120.000 yen.

“Minus a grand. Felt hungry after,” he admitted.

“Must be nice… With that amount of money, I could have rice to last me until the end of the year.”

“You’d kill for rice…?”

Glancing at his face, you couldn’t help yourself from snorting. You were both too deep inside the twilight zone to be questioning each other’s motives.

“Why act surprised? People like us do all sorts of things to get out of our predicaments, don’t we?” you asked, deciding there were more things you had in common than things that divided you. “Is ‘just money’ a better reason than rice?”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “But if I were you, I’d get myself a pair of boots that ain’t a death trap of its own. Gotta be a special kind of idiot to wear crappy shoes in the snow.”

“These were my mother’s!” you objected, and he smirked. “What about you? Where do you plan on spending all that money?”

“Roppongi probably. Or Kabukicho. Heard the right price fetches you the right type of fun there.”

He couldn’t be serious. Those were two of the most renowned bad districts in the history of bad districts. Drugs, gambling, prostitution— you name it.

“How old are you again?”

“Older than you,” he childishly retorted.

“What’s your name?”

“So you can snitch?” His tongue wet the scar below his bottom lip. “Toji.”

“Last name?”

He contemplated his answer for a bit before proudly stating that he didn’t have one —that he didn’t need one— and then he asked you the same.

“Y/N.” You smiled faintly. “I do have a last name, but doubt the one who gave it wants me to have it. Would’ve asked it back if it had any real value.”

“So we are two fuck-ups,” he— Toji, declared.

“I suppose we are.”

The two of you shared a quiet laugh, the kind that wasn’t heard but felt through the eyes of two kindred spirits entirely content with each other’s presence. Ever since your mother passed, you lived in a sphere separate from other people. Your classmates and those who tried to be your friends could afford the luxury of sharing takoyaki on a school day and going karaoke singing the next. They could attend field trips and leave memories on a string of Polaroid frames.

You didn’t. You couldn’t. There wasn’t a single moment in your life when you hadn’t thought about the cost of milk and the value of one-plus-one deals you convinced yourself you didn’t need. Such were the concerns you had at seventeen. Not boys, no friendships, no university entrance exams, no nothing. You couldn’t afford the price tag of a dream, let alone a tomorrow. You lived for today and for making ends meet, so how could someone like you ever aspire to be understood? How could you ever view yourself as something other than the zeros at the bottom of your meager paycheck?

Your self-exile had no room for others, yet somehow, this foul-mouthed stranger had barged his way in and given you a moment that you couldn’t price. A moment that neither loan sharks nor the bank could ever steal. A moment of your youth.

The thick fingers of a calloused hand came to tap at your knee softly, making you wonder whether you’d missed something during your short period of contemplation.

“When’s the interview?” Toji asked.

“Uhm.” You rolled your sleeve to check your watch. “Ten minutes? There’s still time; the place’s right around the corner.”

“Somethin’ tells me getting your ass over there will take longer than that.” Suddenly, the hand that was on your leg hovered above your head, prompting you to grab it as Toji towered over you. “Let’s go.”

“You coming with?”

“You think I’d rather sit down here like some bridge troll that reels in defenseless damsels in distress?”

You were tempted to answer “yes” to see his reaction, but he resumed talking before you could utter a word. “Won’t say it again. Let’s go.”

And with that, you followed Toji to the other end of the bridge, where the stairs you previously failed to locate mocked you with every little squeak your heels produced, until you stood back at the top of civilization, finding it, unsurprisingly, the same as you’d left it. Thoroughly white and eerily quiet.

Just as you thought your ways would part, Toji took your hand in his rather forcefully and picked up a steady gait that you were made to keep up with, your shoes leaving deep imprints in the snow.

He held your hand all the way to the diner, and although you were truly curious as to why he did that, you didn’t dare ask. You walked side by side in silence, occasional fleeting gazes catching his warm breath clashing with the cold. It was then that you realized how warm his palm felt, despite it being all bare. Warm, strong, and certain. So this is what holding a guy’s hand feels like, you giddily mused.

By the time you reached the front door, you were more reluctant to let go than you’d been to grab his hand, thinking that this was the first and last time the two of you were saying goodbye. Sweat made your fingers slippery. You were anxious. You slid your mittens off your fingers and, on a whim, pressed them tight against his palms, making him the recipient of the first gift you’d ever given. He shot the pink-colored wool a funny look —maybe because the prospect of him accepting such a girly-looking accessory puzzled him— and then lingered for a moment or two before he turned around and waved at you over his shoulder.

“Aren’t you gonna wish me good luck?” You asked when the distance between you began to increase.

“You won’t need it,” you heard him say. “The soup will do.”

And with those final words exchanged, you traded the frigid cold for the diner’s artificial heat and the presence of a prospective friend for that of your boss-to-be.

Just like Toji predicted, you didn’t need luck, and you didn’t need that lukewarm soup either. The man hired you almost as fast as he saw you, sternly announcing that you start come Monday. You thanked him from the bottom of your heart and ran back outside, searching through the various white-painted buildings for that stubborn hint of black you’d not too long ago parted with— which you quickly spotted a couple of alleyways ahead.

“I got the job! You hear me, Toji?” You yelled in utter glee, sensibility alone keeping you from springing upward like a jack-in-the-box. “I’m not a fuck-up anymore; I got it! I got the job!”

You weren’t even sure whether that shadow really belonged to him and whether he’d actually made sense of all your frantic cries, but maybe if you’d hushed a little, then you could have heard a distant voice chiming, “I knew you would.”

It was the 27th of December when we first met, but it was on the 29th that I fell in love with you— the scruffy boy with the snow-laced hair and emptied pockets who ordered the cheapest fries off the menu as my company’s fee.

You had your answer locked and loaded— a trigger waiting to be pulled. A clear shot. One bullet was all it’d take to end it. One word, and the farce you called friendship would fizzle right then and there. A sadistic impulse uncoiled deep within your stomach, hitching up your throat like a vile serpent of temptation spurring your chaste tongue to commit the greatest sin imaginable.

I hate being your friend. I don’t want to do this anymore. Do you have any idea how hard it is?

All synonyms for the same emotion. A gut-wrenching, soul-crushing, and above all, self-destructive unrequited love that made your heart clench at the mere sight of him, pound at the sound of his voice, and hammer at the ghost of his touch. If you could reach deep within your chest and cut that useless thing off the strings that held it in its cavity, you certainly would. You’d hand it over to him and gladly watch him stomp on it with the biggest smile contorting the final expression on your face. You wanted to rid yourself of this pointless emotion, but you knew very well that to destroy yourself meant to destroy him.

The 18-year-old Toji that held your hand on a cold winter’s day as if it were the most precious thing to him. The 20-year-old Toji that came along to meet the sister and nephew you didn’t know you had. The 22-year-old Toji that said he was proud of you when you paid off your parents’ house’s mortgage. The 24-year-old Toji that came to your graduation from state college with blood-stained lilies in his hand, again letting slip how proud he was. The 26-year-old Toji that didn’t hesitate to knock the teeth right out of a handsy prick’s jaw, spending his first and last night in a holding cell. The Toji from the last ten years of your life that never strayed too far away from your sight and always managed to return in time for lunch.

Standing in front of the 28-year-old Toji, you felt more apologetic than ever, wishing that you wouldn’t have let your love for him fester into something so selfish and consuming. Because if Toji left, then you’d still have your sister and her family, but if you left, Toji would have none.

And that was why you could never tell him what that day meant. It was impossible to speak of it with any less fondness than the one depicted in your memories, and as dense as Toji could be at times, he was no idiot. So rather than giving him the answer he thought himself to seek, you retracted your hand and took a step back, forcing the meekest smile your guilty conscience could muster.

“How about an offer you’d never refuse?”

tags: @absoluteindulgence

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