#he's incredibly curious of everything

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Not sure if this is how to request correctly but I come Bearing Ideas

Concept: Reverse isekai mothman? You attempt to hide an eldritch horror of the abyss in your apartment, but all he wants is to snuggle New Friend (whether he recognises New Friend as the person behind the screen or not I'll leave it up to you :D)

ohh my goodness i'm squirreling away this idea and putting it on my shelf of favorite things

here's a sight you never possibly thought you'd witness: Foul Legacy sitting on your bed, tilting his head curiously as Genshin runs on your computer beside him. you had only left to get a glass of water, that's it, and yet those few minutes had apparently been enough for Childe's Abyssal form to get whisked from the game world to your room. carefully, you set your cup down so you can't drop it in shock, and Legacy watches your every move before standing from his place on your bed and slowly approaching you. he delicately sniffs the hand you hold out, then bumps his head against it like an affectionate cat, letting out a happy trill when he sees your hesitant smile

there's a vague sense of familiarity that Legacy feels when he's around you, like he's met you before but can't quite recall when and where. you feel safe; a kind, comforting presence in this strange new world he's in- when you're home Legacy is always a few steps behind you, fluttering his wings and chirping when you turn to look at him, and when you have to leave he follows you until you wave goodbye and shut the door. you do your best to act as normal as possible, as if you're not hiding an Abyssal monster who is twice as tall as you and definitely should be fictional in your apartment, since your neighbors can be incredibly nosy- Legacy accidentally broke a vase once and your downstairs neighbor came to investigate, looking at you suspiciously when you assured them that everything was just fine

you also have to get used to how wonderfully affectionate Foul Legacy is. you live alone, no pets allowed, so having a heavy moth-creature lay his head on your lap whenever you sit down is jarring at first. but he doesn't mind- he'll show you where he likes being scritched and pet best!! it's behind his horns and under his chin, and when he curls around you on a bad day, it feels like he's repaying you for keeping him safe, gently nuzzling against your cheek until you take a nap beside him, nestled into his warm embrace

...he's really not sure if he ever wants to go back to Teyvat

[gameofthronedd]

i, for one, really hope that (f)Aegon is real in the sense that i really hope he actually is rhaegar & elia's son... mostly just out of spite at this point.

[orcelito]

Stop infantalizing vash I swear to fucking God. That is a grown man.

[abombihoney]

What is the wildest piece of trivia from the game you know?

Coming from a wiki editor, I'm a behind the scenes historian. Some few examples include:

The fact the key promotional artist was semi-viral in the Spanish JoJo community.

The fact Jacksepticeye played a prior project from Genow (Robin is the game in question).

The fact Maki was the first character created in general.

The cut cutscenes between Vanessa & Hoaxe.

Being indirectly responsible for leaking new info about the game because I copied & pasted something from the discord server.

And the funniest one.

Genow accidentally liking a NSFW artist's SFW Kabbu fanart and being unaware on the content that person draws.

bold of you to assume i know any cool trivia that i didn't learn from the wiki lmao. EVERYTHING you just said is new information to me

like, some background lore i know is the "you shouldnt be able to use the compass in the beehive" argument, leif used to a lady named cerise, some of the characters came from an earlier version where the game was about sea creatures instead of bugs.

but yeah most of the trivia i know is throw away lines from having team snakemouth chit chat/talk to npcs that mean absolutely nothing to the overall game but mean everything to me <3

[slttygeto]

°˖➴ when your baby …— (JJK MEN)

જ⁀➴ featuring: nanami kento, kamo choso, fushiguro toji, geto suguru and gojo satoru.

જ⁀➴ word count: 2,6k

જ⁀➴ tags: fluff, pregnancy, birth, babies, domestic jjk men, they're all your husbands, them being perfect.

જ⁀➴ note: not proofread, some of these are a bit unrealistic, but keep in mind that it's fiction and i don't have a baby.

°˖➴ when your baby smiles for the first time: [nanami kento]

Birth was a blessing in itself, but having a partner as supportive as Kento made everything worth it, down to the sleepless nights you have been spending trying to get used to your baby’s constant need to be cuddled, fed and taken care of. You were frustrated, it was pretty evident by the tears welling up in your eyes every two seconds along with how you simply refused to be near anyone but your baby and Kento. Thankfully, he was always the one coaxing you to get out of the bed and sit on the balcony, have a full meal and relax while he took care of the baby.

On the outside, it seemed as though Kento had everything under control, and that nothing could affect him as long as you were okay. He never cried when you did (beside when he held the baby for the first time), and he made sure to validate your every frustration and fear, all while telling you that everything will be okay.

Which brings us to this moment, with both of you sitting on the couch with your baby on his lap. One of your favorite things about these nights was that Kento never skipped them and always made sure to play with your baby for a bit before helping you put her to bed. Even when he was incredibly exhausted.

Kento rocked your baby back and forth, enjoying the happy and curious noises leaving your daughter’s mouth. Your husband’s pointer was gently tracing her face, humming a soft tune about how adorable she was all while helping her be more aware of her body.

“And those are your eyes,” his tired voice came out. “And this is your nose,” accompanied with a boop, “and those are your precious cheeks,” a laugh escaped his lips when your daughter seemed to try to escape from the ticklish feeling of his finger and you chuckled at the scene. Your happiness was so contagious that your daughter’s lips twitched and a giggle escaped her lips.

“Oh,” Kento paused his movements but it only seemed to make your daughter giggle even more. “Look at you,” a smile broke on your husband’s face and he leans down to brush his nose against hers. “Is daddy your favorite comedian already?” And the louder her giggles got, the harder it was for your husband to contain his own laughter. He throws his head back on the couch and closes his eyes, and when he leans back down towards your baby girl, her smile only gets bigger and bigger.

You bring your legs up to your chest and watch the scene unfold with a heart full of love and adoration for your husband and the human being you both created. And when Nanami notices your silence, he supports his baby girl’s head with one hand and reaches his free hand towards your leg to caress it.

“Are you okay, darling?” To which you flash him with a smile that Kento could only describe as one that filled his heart to the brim.

“Never been better.”

°˖➴ when your baby first rolls over: [kamo choso]

You were well aware of how anxious and easily nervous your husband could get. Throughout your entire pregnancy, you were never allowed to be even a foot away from him. On a normal day, you would’ve asked for personal space, but lucky Choso, your pregnancy hormones seemed to make you even more attached to him.

Now that your baby boy was here, all of that anxiety and nervousness was doubled. Instead of worrying about one person and a bump, Choso had to make sure you and your baby were both okay all while trying not to tire himself to stay awake for you two. Night feeds were usually his favorite time of the day, despite your tired self and the sleepiness on your face, watching you try to hold your baby while feeding him always made him lean towards you and press a kiss to your forehead.

Your baby was about three months old when Choso started becoming even more involved with diaper and outfit changing. Not that he didn’t want to at the beginning, you were always far too nervous to let him do anything unsupervised. Your baby was currently on the bed while his father reached for the outfit that he laid out for him. And while Choso was always super careful, you had called out his name before walking into the room and so he turns his head to the door and is confused when you’re wide eyed and staring at the bed.

“What?”

“Look- the baby, Choso!” He turns to stare at his son and is pleasantly surprised when he notices that his son had fully rolled over and was now on his stomach. Your husband doesn’t say a thing as your baby makes noises, almost complaining to you both that he wasn’t seeing you and that his muscles were still too weak to support his head, so Choso rolls him on his back and leans down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“…don’t you think it’s too soon for him to try to leave mid-conversation?”

“Baby,” you let out a chuckle. “I’m sure that’s not what he meant.”

“He’s moving too quickly! What do you mean he was able to roll over?” Your husband complains and he slowly dresses up your son.

“It just means our baby is healthy and functioning well.”

“Yeah,” Choso says softly before picking up your baby. “Our baby.”

°˖➴ when your baby starts crawling: [fushiguro toji]

Toji always thought that he didn’t deserve a second chance at life. He simply thought it was too late to start over, that was until he met you and you made him realize that ‘too late’ didn’t really have a place in your dictionary. You made him experience everything all over again; from falling in love to raising two healthy babies along with Megumi and Tsumiki. You gave him a second chance at being a father all while helping him fix his relationship with his kids.

You always made sure to help Tsumiki and Megumi with their homework while Toji stayed with your baby boy and baby girl. He would sit on the floor and watch as they struggled to even hold up their heads and try to reach for him.

“Come on now, I know you can do it,” Toji held the toy your baby boy was whining to his father to give him, and your husband was very stubborn about what his kids were capable of. Tsumiki and Megumi were already excelling at different sports and even academically, and despite you trying to convince your husband that your babies were only six months old, he wouldn’t listen.

Shifting his attention from his son to his daughter, he reaches for the toy in her hands and slowly takes it away from her. He watches as a pout forms on her lips and her eyes get teary almost immediately, and Toji has never believed in mother instinct as much as right now, because you burst out of the study room at the same time as your baby girl crying.

“Toji,” your disappointed tone as you walked towards the scene made the man turn back towards his babies.

“I just think they should be crawling by now.”

“They need time baby,” you step behind him and look over your baby girl who was trying to rub her teary eyes. “You can try by setting it in front of her, then she can try reaching for it.”

Your husband does as he is told and completely forgets about his son’s toy. Too focused on getting your daughter to move towards her toy, he fails to notice his son slowly crawling towards him to retrieve the small item sitting next to him but you do.

“Oh!” your gasp catches your husband’s attention and he immediately notices his son. “Come on baby! Good job!” Toji doesn’t waste time and turns back towards your daughter, gently coaxing her into moving towards her toy.

“Come on baby girl, come on,” it is very rare for Toji to be smiling so softly but whenever he was with his kids, his cheeks would end up hurting him from smiling too much.

Your daughter’s attention quickly shifts towards the person that walks out of the study room, and when her eyes fall on Megumi, a giggle escapes her lips and she starts moving towards her older brother. You and Toji watch in awe as Megumi sits cross legged on the floor and talks very softly to his baby sister, words of encouragement leaving his lips as your baby girl stops a couple of times and whines at the difficult task at hand.

“Just a bit more, come on,” But once in Megumi’s arms, the boy holds her carefully before walking back towards you and his dad. Toji stands up with his younger son in his arms before patting Megumi’s head.

“Good job, boy. You did well.” To which Megumi responds to with a shy nod before handing you his baby sister.

Moments like these sure made it feel like everything in life was worth it.

°˖➴ when your baby says their first word: [geto suguru]

You never knew you could fall in love twice until you saw your husband become a father to your beautiful baby girls. Not only was he supportive, which was obviously the bare minimum, he still managed to be present for all three of his girls at the same time. The girls were obsessed with their father, and rightfully so, but something you truly admired about your husband was that he made sure to include himself during their play time.

And despite your attempts at convincing him that play time meant playing with dolls and plushies, Suguru was adamant on teaching his little girls very interesting words that had their tiny eight month old brains almost short circuit.

“Sugu, easy there. They can’t possibly know what pontificate means.” You say followed with a low chuckle, watching as the man sat down on the floor with his legs spread wide open for his two girls to sit in the space there and glance at the book their father was holding.

“My girls are smart like their parents,” your husband says with a serious look on his face. “I need their first words to be something smart, something big…”

“I need something that screams Beyoncé,” you say jokingly and your husband shoots you a playful glare.

“Be serious.”

You squat in front of your baby girls and it immediately shifts their attention from the book Suguru was holding and you smile at that. You instinctively open your arms and wait for them to crawl towards you, but instead one of the girls looks back at Suguru and waits for him to look down at her.

“Mama,” your little girl turns to her sister before staring at you and starts crawling towards you and your jaw almost touches the floor.

“Did you just say mama?”

“Mamama,” your other daughter mimics her sister and tries to escape Suguru’s hold, but he catches her in his arms and his happiness seems to be a lot more obvious than yours.

“Yeah baby, that’s mama! She said mama, did you hear that?” You grab your baby girl who was crawling towards you and grin at your husband.

“Didn’t you say you wanted their first word to be something big?”

“You’re their everything, so it is something big.” There was no doubt that you picked the right person to father your children.

°˖➴ when your baby starts walking: [gojo satoru]

You’ve always known that your baby was going to be as hyper as Satoru. Ever since he was in the womb, your baby would not stop moving and kicking, it even resulted in him almost wrapping the umbilical cord around his neck but thankfully, the birth went great and he came out as healthy as ever.

Despite being so sure that the baby would be a carbon copy of his father, your baby boy ended up taking your every facial feature. Satoru couldn’t deny that he wished his baby had his white hair, but something about having a second human looking exactly like you melted his heart. But that was literally the only thing the baby had about you, just the looks. Because God, was he an active baby.

He was holding his head up and rolling on his stomach faster than you had expected, and since Satoru loved to test his boy’s limits, your baby ended up crawling soon after. Not even two months later, your baby was saying his first words and all you could do was nod and smile as people told you how unique your baby was, and a part of you could only wish that you would shelter him from all the attention he was getting. But he was a Gojo, and stuff like this was bound to happen.

But the moment your husband noticed your discomfort, he immediately stopped accepting people when they asked to come over. He was excited to become a father, but it wouldn’t be the same if it meant robbing you of the same place that was supposed to bring you comfort.

And apparently, only he could keep up with his son’s hyper self. Crawling from corner to corner, squealing in excitement and tossing his toys around, Satoru even encouraged his son to grab onto the couch and crawl around the space that was heavily baby-proofed.

“Ah, you’re so eager to walk, aren’t you?” Satoru teases his son as he tries to hold onto the couch and stand up. With a little bit of support on his bum, your baby managed to stand up but freezes there and turns his head to the side where his father was staring at him.

“What, are you scared? It’s not so fun anymore, hm?” Your husband teases your son who seems to be taking his father’s words not very well. He pouts and rests his head on the couch, refusing to look at his dad and Satoru laughs out loud.

“Come on, I was only joking, you’re good at everything just like your dad.” You eventually walk down the stairs and you raise an eyebrow at your pouting eleven month old son.

“What did you do?” you immediately pin the blame onto your husband who gasps and puts a hand on his chest.

“I didn’t do anything!” He pats your son’s bum as your baby’s wobbly legs try to move him around the couch and towards you. “He stood up and got scared, and I found it funny.”

“Oh baby,” you squat down to your baby’s level and reach out your hands to grab him. “Papa is so mean, isn’t he?”

“Am not,” Satoru rolls his eyes but he watches as your son reaches the end of the couch and hesitates to let go. You lock eyes with your baby, and your husband thinks it’s a beautiful example of mothers and babies silently communicating, because no words were exchanged yet your baby knew to trust you completely.

He doesn’t fall into your arms but instead, he pushes himself away from the couch and takes a very small step towards you. You try not to gasp in surprise, and you wait as he takes another step—then another, and another before falling in your embrace and both you and Satoru are wide eyed and surprised at what just happened.

“He just—“

“He walked!” Your husband jumps from his spot on the ground and takes your baby in his arms. “My son is one of a kind! I’m telling you, he will win a nobel prize—“

Satoru always found a way to be excited about any of his son’s milestones.

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[chuluoyi]

✎ the babysitters' club

- gojo satoru x reader

in which yuji, megumi and nobara are tasked with the most important mission ever by their teacher—watching over his baby son!

genre: total crack, first years are trying their best to babysit your son to save their grades, an attempt at humor, gojo is irritating as always, fluff, fluff, fluff

note: this is sooo incredibly silly :') some inspiration are taken from the baby starfish onesie, this ask, and this illustration -> if you're wondering how gojo dressed his baby, he's looks just like that :)) tagging @3zae-zae3 <3

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

"Gojo-sensei... what is that wiggling starfish!?"

On one sunny day in jujutsu school... trouble is once again brewing in the form of Gojo Satoru bringing his baby son to the class.

"Starfish? No, no," Gojo retorted with a displeased expression, directing his gaze towards Yuji and clicking his tongue as he patted his squirming baby, which was still hidden from their view. "He's my pride and joy! Don't refer to him as starfish!"

"But you've got him dressed up as one..." Nobara pointed out, her tone flat and unimpressed.

"That's his kid," Megumi provided, wearily sighing. God, he knew already today was going to be a long day.

No one from school had seen your seven-month old baby son yet, and Gojo was determined to make it an occasion to remember.

Beaming with pride, he gently removed his baby from the starfish-themed onesie, revealing him in a tiny black jujutsu outfit specially tailored for him, complete with miniature black glasses. He held him up, presenting him for everyone to see.

"Behold, everyone... my son! Isn't he just adorable?!"

. . . a momentary silence before—

"Oh my goodness, he is!" Nobara cooed, forgetting her earlier sentiment, immediately approaching the baby with shining eyes. "Sensei, how could you manage to have a baby this cute!?"

"Heh! Only the finest technique utilized to create him—"

"Complete bullshit—"

"Hush, Megumi! No cussing in front of my baby! I'll deduct your marks!"

"Seriously...?"

"Now, class, today I have a very, very important task for you..." Gojo said, his voice dripping with mischief as he sported a broad grin. "If you succeed, I'll personally draft a recommendation letter for each of you to Yaga. But if you don't..." he paused for the suspense, scanning his three students' curious faces.

"Then I'm failing you in my class!" Gojo continued with a grin, prompting immediate reactions from his students.

“What! Why?!”

“That's not fair!”

“Sigh.”

“All you have to do was to watch over him until I come back. Everything you need is here— in this bag!”

Megumi rolled his eyes. Nobara raised an eyebrow. Only Yuji who seemed to be genuinely interested.

"Isn't that easy?" Gojo tilted his head playfully, looking absolutely stupid with his blindfold. "There are three of you here. If you can't even manage to look after one baby, then you should not even think about romance and dating."

"Nonsen—"

"Quiet, Megumi!"

And so began the day's mission: looking after Baby Gojo until his father's return.

“Lalala~ look you’re flying!”

“Fwa...”

“Kugisaki, don’t hold him like that! You’re making him cry!”

“No, I’m not— Itadori! Don’t smush his face—!”

“WAAA!”

“You idiot!” Megumi hissed, plucking the poor baby from his clueless friends and immediately soothed him, pulling him close and patting his back. He even gently shushed him, “There, there...”

And Yuji and Nobara could only look at him in awe as the baby's wails turned into soft sniffles, peaceful in his embrace.

"Whoa... Fushiguro, so babies like you, huh..."

"Unfair!" Nobara clicked his tongue, before fixing a wide smile and waved at the baby in Megumi's arms. "Hi baby~ don't you want to held by big sister—"

"He doesn't like you, Kugisaki."

And so, that was how the three of them spent half the day—constantly watching over Baby Gojo, with Megumi supervising both the baby and his two friends.

"Sometimes, I wonder what she sees in him..." Megumi grumbled sullenly, resigned to his fate, his gaze fixed on the crawling baby while he sat on the floor and threw his little sunglasses.

For all the sighs he exuded, Megumi undeniably had a soft spot for the baby. Prior today, he had held him several times, and he'd never admit it, but he'd protect him to the best of his ability, if anything, because you had done so much for him.

“Gojo-sensei is cool!” Yuji remarked. “Of course Y/N-sensei is happy with him.”

Nobara rolled her eyes. “Only you would say that.”

"Hey, don't you think he wants his milk?" Yuji suddenly pointed out, as the baby became fussy. Megumi nodded and Yuji immediately reached for the bag Gojo left. He pulled out a bottle and handed it to his friend, but in the process, he accidentally knocked the bag over, spilling its contents onto the floor.

"Ahh, my bad," the boy sighed, collecting the diapers and washcloth, until he realized that there were some more—

"What's that? Photographs?" Nobara picked one of them up, and immediately gasped. "Oh my! Look at this!"

On the picture was the same baby, but much more smaller and swaddled in baby blue blanket and tiny blue beanie. Most likely taken when he was a newborn.

"Whoa, wait, there's something written behind the photo..."

When she flipped it over, both she and Yuji studied the messy handwriting, instantly recognizing it as their teacher's.

Yaaay! ♡ Baby is here! I'm sooo happy you made it! But mama went through a lot to bring you here... so don't ever forget that she loves you very, very much, okay?

"This is sweet." Nobara looked at the picture with a genuine smile, until she realized that there were some more scattered on the floor.

The other picture was of the blue-eyed baby on his arms and knees, wrapped in an orange and black bee onesie, complete with little wings, and behind it was written:

Aren't you just the cutest bee?! And what's more, you've started crawling! Aw, papa is so proud! In no time at all, you're going to be as strong as me!

"What are you two doing over there?" Megumi asked, still feeding the baby with the milk bottle. Nobara beckoned him over.

The third photo was of you smiling so prettily while holding your baby, still in his bee suit, and Gojo also in the frame, wrapping his arm around you, clearly the one holding the camera to take the selfie.

Two my most precious treasures ♡ Sweetheart, I love you. And baby too!

Yuji smiled, as he felt warmth spreading in his chest. "Gojo-sensei really treasures his family, huh?"

"He is," Megumi agreed, because he had seen it all throughout his life.

"Well, no wonder..." Nobara giggled. "Any woman showered with this much love would be happy."

And that day, the trio also uncovered another side of their teacher, that his deepest affection was reserved exclusively for his wife and child.

Well, the sentimental feeling didn't last long though...

"This is our chance!" Nobara said in a hushed whisper. "When else are we going to get an extra family discount!?"

Megumi was so ready to burst a blood vessel as he held the baby—given that he had forbidden his two friends to lay a finger on him. "We are meeting Gojo-sensei here, not to—!"

"Hush! Itadori, don't you agree with me?!"

Yuji nudged his cross friend, trying to appease him. "Lighten up, Fushiguro! We can have more meat!"

At the last minute, Gojo suddenly told the three of them to bring his baby and meet him at the shopping center as he didn't want to waste energy to go back to the school. And like broke students Nobara and Yuji were, they decided to use Baby Gojo to snag an extra plate in a yakiniku place.

Megumi's eyes twitched. "This is not making sense at all, they won't believe—!"

"Shut up, you! Waiter~ here! We have a baby! So we're eligible for the family package!"

The judging stare of the waiter was enough to make Megumi combust on the spot, and yet somehow he passed the four of them as family eligible for the extra plate.

It was later, after they had their lunch that Megumi suddenly had an upset stomach and left the baby momentarily in his two friends' care.

And under less-than-watchful eyes...

"Hey, Kugisaki, meat on this side is the juiciest! Try it!"

"Ooh, you're right!"

The baby only blinked at them in wonder as he stayed in his spot. Not for long though... and it didn't help that they forgot his existence after they went to the cashier and headed out.

"Oi, Itadori! Don't forget to split the bill!"

"Oh yeah! Anyway, why is Fushiguro taking so long?"

Megumi got back right afterwards, and he frowned. "You done already? I haven't even gotten my ocha refill—" and it dawned to him when he saw both Yuji and Nobara with empty hands.

"Wait... where's the baby?"

"—! Oh my god!"

And when the three of them rushed back to the yakiniku place and approached their table earlier, Nobara almost screamed at the empty chairs, "He is gone!"

"You left the baby with the kids and told them to come here?!"

You were positively fuming as you scolded your stupid husband in the bustling mall.

"Well, we haven't gotten much time to spend together, just the two of us!" Satoru retorted, his tone sulky as he pouted. "And besides, Megumi is there. I'm sure they'll do just fine~"

You let out a sigh. True enough, being parents is no joke. Aside from stay-at-home dates, the frequency of the two of you going out had dwindled exponentially since having your baby.

"Technically, you are still on the clock though." You threw him a glare. "You're being a very irresponsible teacher."

Satoru smirked. "Heh, spare me. But I'm being a very good teacher to you in our—"

"One more word and I'm locking you out—!"

Just as you were about to give him your (empty) threat, the building suddenly boomed with an announcement from the mall's broadcast speaker.

"Attention, shoppers. We've received a report from three teenagers that they've lost a baby. He is seven-month old, wears black shirt, has white hair and blue eyes. He is last seen at Yakiniku Q—"

"Satoru..." your voice trembled, dread settling in the pit of your stomach. The baby described by the speaker was unmistakably your son, and the realization of him being missing sent you spiraling into panic.

"Hey, calm down." Satoru gripped your hand tightly, his voice steady as he faced you. "We're going to find him, alright? I'm here. Don't worry."

And after taking off his glasses, in a matter of seconds, Satoru figured out where he was.

Nobara's eyes welled up with tears, frustrated. "What do I do, Gojo-sensei will fail us now..." she muttered, biting her lip.

"That's what you're worried about?" Megumi replied, turning to her with a clear glare.

"He's going to be fine! He is!" Yuji interjected, trying to reassure his two friends despite his own rising anxiety. "He’s not just any random baby—who knows, maybe he can shoot cursed energy to protect himself!"

Megumi and Nobara leveled their annoyed stares on him and Yuji immediately regretted his attempt to lighten the mood.

"I still think he can't get far from the yakiniku place." Megumi was too panicked to check with the staff earlier and just went with Yuji's suggestion to report it to be announced, but now that he thought about it— "I think we should go back."

And thank goodness the three of them returned for the second time because, this time, they finally saw the baby safely cradled in your arms, with Gojo speaking to the waitresses nearby.

"Oh?! Gojo-sensei is here!"

But as soon as the three of them came into view, Gojo immediately fixed them with his unamused gaze.

"You three..." his voice was lower and it made the three kids shudder. "What did I tell you about failing this mission, huh?"

Yuji, Nobara and Megumi were visibly spooked, immediately bowing their heads in unison as they chorused—

"Gojo-sensei, we're so sorry!"

Nobara then pointed an accusing finger at Yuji. "But it was his fault! He kept eating away and didn't even oversee the baby anymore!"

"Wha!?" Yuji glared back at her. "No! You too! You kept eating my meat too!"

"Whatever it is, I'm not a part of this—" Megumi cut in boldly. "My stomach hurt so I had to go for a bit, and they couldn't even keep an eye on him—"

You soothed your squirming son as the first years were throwing blame at each other. Gaping in confusion, you couldn't help but wonder how such a simple task had turned into this incident.

"Tsk." Gojo crossed his arms dramatically, and you knew he was just messing with them, as he suddenly turned to you with a grin.

"Nah, as both a teacher and the victim's mother— Sensei~ who do you think is responsible for this? Or should I punish all three of them?"

The three kids before you were quaking in their boots, and you really didn't have time for this right now. Honestly, if if you had to quickly pinpoint the source of this chaos...

You directed your most irked glare at your husband. "You."

“Huh?!”

“You’re the one staging this by threatening their grades, and it results in our baby being missing!”

Now you were bickering with your husband and putting him in his rightful place. Nobara and Yuji gaped, while Megumi heaved a sigh of relief.

"Does this mean... our grades are saved?"

Epilogue

"They said he fell..." You pat your baby's head worriedly as he babbled happily in his crib, your expression darkening into a frown.

You didn't really blame the first years for their lack of experience, but as his mother, the news from the restaurant staff that they had found your son falling from the chair made you extremely uneasy.

Seeing your distress, Satoru’s natural response was to comfort you until you were back to smiles again. He gently tickled his boy's tummy, prompting him to squeal in absolute joy. "Look, he's perfectly fine. You don't need to worry so much, yeah?"

"But it's strange... I'm happy he's fine, but how? Most babies will get hurt or at least be inconsolable after falling. But he was totally okay..."

Satoru shifted his gaze to his son, as now his round, crystal blue eyes that mirrored his blinked back at him with such innocence and trust that even melted his heart.

"Ah, I see." Suddenly he smiled as if he had figured something out. "This is just my guess, but you know my guesses have like... 90% of probability of being correct—"

"Hmm...?"

"He might have activated Infinity by instinct. Heh."

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ❞

❝ PROF GETO BROKE YOUR HEART & NOW YUTA IS HOT ?? ❞

✧ pairing: prof!suguru geto x f!reader (& grad student! yuta x f!reader)

✧ summary: after suguru leaves you broken hearted, yuta's there for you when you're putting your heart back together, and he's not sure when or if he even wants you to tell you how you feel. but what happens when you start to realize your feelings?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut , fluff, angst, depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader and yuta are grad students, but age is vague, dealing with a breakup, fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, amateur's take on moral philsophy and ethics, art by @ / polariae (who is incredible and everyone should go follow them now!!)

✧ wc: 12,464

Yuta felt as if he was always running late — for everything. 

He had transferred into this university a year into his schooling, he was always running late to meetings, and he was too late when he fell for you. 

But he seemed to have good timing in this moment — as he ran into you, as why was it he could always find you effortlessly without trying, but there was no smile on your lips when you met his gaze, but only tears — if only so he could comfort you. 

He says your name, as he stops you gently, fingers brushing against your shoulders, as your gaze falls to the ground, “What happened? Are you—” 

“Yuta, I’m sorry, I have to go—” but he stops you for a moment. 

“If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s completely fine, but can I call someone?” he says gently, he could see the tears slipping off your cheeks, even as you attempted to wipe them away, “I don’t think you should be alone—” 

And then you’re hugging him, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I shouldn’t—but I—” 

His arms go around you gently, “It’s okay, don’t apologize, I’m here for you,” and he doesn’t know what else to do but stand there with you, as curious gazes of passersby watched the two of you, “come on, let’s go somewhere more private.” 

~~~

When had he fallen for you? It was hard to say, but apparently easy to see. 

“So did you tell her you like her?” And Yuta nearly spits his drink out when Maki asks him that after one of the student government meetings. She sipped at the can of black coffee, nonchalantly, her eyebrows raised at his sputtering. He wipes his mouth, a slight glare in his gaze, “based on that reaction, I would say no,” 

“What are you talking—“ and your name leaves Maki’s lips, and his cheeks flush, ears burning, as he presses his knuckles to his lips, unable to meet her gaze, “was it that obvious?” 

“To a person with eyes,” and his gaze snaps to her, a question on his lips, “no, she doesn’t know,” 

Yuta slumps back in the chair he was sitting in, as he sets his drink down on the round table, “how can I tell her? She has a boyfriend,” 

“One that she doesn’t even see that often,” Maki leans back in her chair, “I’ll give you some unsolicited advice, Yuta — if you keep having these feelings and don’t do anything about it, you’ll regret it,” 

But how could he do anything when he already knew you were struggling? It wasn’t enough that your boyfriend was far away, but he didn’t seem to make time to come see you — even on your birthday — but to push his feelings on you on top of that. It wasn’t fair. 

So he had to settle on being your friend, just your friend. 

“What happened?” He asks again when the two of you get to a secluded corner of campus, a bench far enough away, as you sniffled, wiping your tears and murmuring apologies, “you don’t have to talk about it—“ 

And you shake your head, “My boyfriend, he, uh, broke up with me,” and he stares at you — your voice wavering as you speak, “I just, didn’t expect that to, you know—“ 

Yuta tilts his head, speaking softly, “Why don’t I take you back to your apartment?” 

So he does, taking the quick metro ride there, as your fingers brush his as the two of you walk beside each other. The silence hangs as comfortably as it can, your eyes straight ahead, as he sneaks glances at you. He wants nothing more than to take your hand, to tell you it would be okay, but he couldn’t — he didn’t want to overstep. It had already been hard enough to contain his feelings when you were with someone — and now that you weren’t — he wanted nothing more than to love you as you deserved to be loved. 

But it wasn’t his love you wanted — and it wasn’t what you needed either. 

You needed a friend, not a lover, more than ever. 

“Thank you for bringing me home, Yuta,” you mumble, shaking your head, “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess — I’m not being—“ 

“You don’t have to be anything, you’re fine,” he says softly, as you fumble with your keys, “do you want company?” 

You give a terse chuckle, as you unlock the door, “I’m not the best company right now, Yuta,” 

And he could have told you that you were the company he always wanted, the company he never would say no to — good or bad — but he couldn’t. So he said something else. 

“Then I guess I’ll have to make up for it by being very good company,” and you give a watery laugh, shaking your head, as you hesitate, glancing over your shoulder. 

“Are you sure?” And he only steps past you into your apartment, as he smiles. 

“Come on, I’ll order us dinner and you can put on an…interesting movie again,” and your lips quirk up as you step past him into the apartment. 

He couldn’t be more than a friend — not now — but maybe at some point. But he would be happy to just be in your life. 

That was enough. 

~~~

He wasn’t enough, Suguru sat in the train, the sun long set on Tokyo as he watched the city fade into the distance — as he leaned his face against the glass of the window. He had taken a late train back to Kyoto — one of the last — he could have taken an earlier one, but he had lost track of time. 

How long did he stand there? 

It felt like hours — minutes had ticked by as such, but he knew it was long enough for him to miss several trains by the time he had left for the station. It was long enough that he saw you disappear in the distance, Yuta assumedly in tow. 

It was right — it was what was necessary. That’s what he told himself as he watched the scenery move past him in seconds, but it felt as if time had stood still. He could hear the soft snores and quiet murmuring of the sparse passengers among the train, the footsteps of others as they walked up and down the aisle, and the steady shudder of the train as it ran along to its destination. But still, it felt as if he was still trapped behind glass in that moment, he watched himself drop your heart, watched it shatter beneath his feet, and he didn’t go after you. 

Why didn’t go after you? 

He asked himself again and again — but the only answer amongst the buzzing white noise that had only served to numb his mind to the pain was that it was necessary. 

He had always known you had a bright future — you could anywhere, lecture overseas, do fellowships or a Phd program, or even become a professor elsewhere. But when he had spoke to Yaga, it had solidified in his mind even more so — he wasn’t giving you what you needed and he was holding you back while he was at it. 

And the worse part was he knew you would never blame him — not for a minute. You would try to make it work. Long distance, giving opportunities up, or even choosing him over yourself. And he couldn’t abide letting you give up what you wanted for him — even if it wasn’t what you would have chosen. Because he knew you would always choose him. 

So he had to be the one to choose you. 

He needed to leave you behind, just as he had left Tokyo. He had made his choice, and now he had to live with it — and live without you. 

It was necessary. It was right — he shut his eyes, leaning against the window beside his seat, tears burning at the corners, as a tear rolled past hidden behind his hand  — so why did it feel so wrong to be without you? 

~~~

You didn’t want to wake up.  

You pulled the comforter over your head, finding refuge underneath the plush duvet, and wondering if it was possible to stay under here long enough for your problems to disappear. But you knew the pain would remain, but even so, you sought the sweet escape of sleep — if only for a few hours, you didn’t have to feel this heartache, you didn’t have to remember this. 

You didn’t have to remember him. 

And then there’s a knock on your door, a persistent knock that draws you from the arms of your only oasis under your sheets, and you drag yourself from bed, your eyes aching from your tears from last night. 

Fuck, you rubbed at your eyes. You glanced at the couch, finding no one there — when did Yuta leave last night? You couldn’t remember — and you’re dead on your feet as you find your way to the door, opening it without a thought. 

And your breath caught.  

“Suguru?” you stared, as he stood in front of you, bouquet of flowers in hand. You stumbled over your words as gracefully as you had gotten out of bed, as his arms wrapped around you. You stood motionless for a moment before melting into his touch, tears burning at your eyes yet again, “what are you doing here? Why—“ 

“What do you mean?” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, “you know I can’t stand to spend more than a few hours away from you,” and you’re burying your face in his chest, biting back the urge to sob then and there. 

You kept your tone as even as you can manage as you pull away, “Suguru, you said—“ 

“I know I’m early, but we can just spend some time together before we head out—“ 

And you’re shaking your head, “Head out where?” 

He furrows his brow in confusion, a chuckle escaping his lips, “Did you forget? You’re the one who insisted that we should be early — you kept saying we couldn’t be late,”

“To what?” 

“Our engagement party,” he takes your hand gently intertwining your fingers to show you the ring you wore — and you’re staring at it, as he presses sweet kisses to each of your knuckles, “now shouldn’t you get ready? Or are you the one who’ll make us late?” 

“Suguru—“ and his lips find yours in a gentle kiss, warmth blooming from his touch alone, your fingers finding purchase on his shoulder. For a second, it’s real and it’s right — Suguru has found his way back to you. 

Right? 

And his lips part from yours, his fingers brushing your cheek, “I love you,” he murmurs, saying your name again and again and—

A hand brushes your shoulder and you jolt awake, your hand slapping whatever had touched you away, as your fingers grasped at your comforter. You blinked, as your breath slowed, and you had found yourself in bed—

Again. 

And another mutter of your name snaps your gaze up to find Yuta standing a foot from your bedside now, his brow wrinkled, holding his hand in the other—

Fuck. 

“Oh my god, Yuta, I’m sorry — I was having a—“ you cut off a moment, you didn’t know whether to call it a dream or a nightmare, “just, I’m sorry,” you cover your face with your hands, “I barely remember getting into bed last night,” 

He waves you off, “It’s ok, I know you had a rough night,” he offers a small smile, “I had to help you into bed — you were a little out of it, so I just stayed on the couch,” 

You groan, wishing you could burrow into the Earth and never emerge, “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again—I’m sorry I made you stay—“ 

“You don’t have to apologize,” he says softly, “I’m your friend — I’m here for you,” and you swallow, tears burning at your eyes again, “s-sorry, did I?” 

And you shake your head before slipping out of bed and hugging him, “Thank you, Yuta, really,” and he wrapped his arms around you tentatively, “I think you’re my best friend,” 

You were so lucky to have him — especially when you needed someone the most. 

“Of course,” he murmured, and you didn’t not know his heart was aching ever so slightly, “you’re mine too.” 

~~~

“Do you want to talk about what happened with…your boyfriend?” Yuta knew the only way you would be able to heal is by talking about it — and that’s the one thing you had avoided doing all weekend. Sure you talked — but about the movies you were watching, about classes, about anything — then what had happened.

You hadn’t brought it up since that morning, you had washed up and it was as if he had imagined what had happened. You made breakfast, you put on a movie, and you joked about his allegedly questionable restaurant choices. But not a word about your dream or about your breakup. 

But he knew he had to ask. 

You were just coming off laughing at something that had happened in the rom-com you had switched on, and your lips fell into a seamless frown, as if the facade of happiness melted off with his words. 

Your gaze falls, arms tightening around the cushion in your lap, a bitter chuckle falling from your lips, “does anyone ever want to talk about their breakup?” 

He furrows his brow, “Bottling it up won’t help you heal from it — the only way is to let it out, and I can’t tell you what to do but—“ he bites his bottom lip, your eyes never lifting to meet his, “I know you need to let it out, one way or another,” 

You pause a moment, as you press your face against the cushion, “It hurts too much, Yu, I don’t know if I can,” 

“It doesn’t have to be now, I just want you to—“ 

“We were long distance,” and he’s opening his mouth to cut you off, but you shake your head, “you’re right — if I don’t talk about it now, I never will,” 

So you told him. Told him how you both had gotten together right before your boyfriend had received a job offer that required him to move, how the two of you decided to date regardless, and how you continued to be long distance even after he started. 

“It just got harder to see each other, and he ran late on my birthday but I didn’t care—“ and Yuta tilts his head, “I mean, I did care — but I knew it was temporary. I was going to graduate and move to be with him—“ and your nails dig into the soft fabric of the cushion, “but it didn’t matter. He thought it was for the best — for my best interest — that we break up,” 

He furrows his brow. This, the crying and heartache, was for your best interest? “Why—“ 

“Because he thought I was limiting my options, that he wasn’t a good enough boyfriend — one that I deserved,” you shake your head, tossing the cushion aside on the couch, “but he didn’t understand — I just wanted him—I knew it would be different when we were together—“ your voice breaks, “but he didn’t want to wait.” 

Yuta lets you talk and lets you rant and cry — until you’re asleep after lunch, taking a nap on the couch beside him. And he wonders if this is helping, but at least you’re sleeping now — he spotted the bags under your eyes when he saw you wake in the morning — as if you had spent the entire night tossing and turning. 

Was this okay for him? He wasn’t expecting anything — aside from your friendship. He didn’t think you were going to wake up and fall in love only because he did what a friend should do. But was it okay for him to be here? 

Because he couldn’t quash the little bit of hope that inched its way into the crevice of his heart that maybe you’d heal from this — maybe you would be able to get over this and you’d see him, as more than a friend or a best friend. He wanted to think he would do this even if he didn’t have feelings for you — it would probably be easier if he didn’t. 

But the facts stand that his motivation was corrupt — he chuckled, fuck, even the philosophy you had dosed him with, during your meals and student government meetings, was infecting his mind. Motivation mattered — because if you know or expect a reward from doing something, no matter how hard you try, your motivation will always be just that,

And his eyes slide to you — fast asleep as he grabs the throw blanket on your couch and gently places it over you — but he wouldn’t mind being corrupt, if it meant he could stay with you. 

~~~

“She broke up with her boyfriend?” Maki raises an eyebrow, placing her drink down, “and you still haven’t told her?” Maki’s judgment pierced through Yuta, even as he couldn’t quite meet her gaze, biting his lip, “what are you waiting for? For her to get back together with him?” 

“Maki, I can’t make a move so soon—she’s vulnerable—“ 

She sighs, leaning back, as she crosses her arms, “Well, you’re a good guy for that, but you need to do something, even if it’s not confessing. You should try spending more time with her, encourage her to open up more—“ 

“I don’t know — I don’t want to overstep—“ 

“Yuta,” Maki cuts him off, “you’re a good guy and you deserve to be happy — you spend a lot of time worrying about other people, and not enough time thinking about yourself. If she’s not ready right now that’s fine, but she might not realize she’s ready until someone helps her to,” she tilts her head, her fingers beginning to toy with the straw of her drink, “I just don’t want to see you regret hesitating,” 

Yuta’s phone went off — your name flashing on the screen, hey, are you free to hang out and watch a movie tonight? Finally finished working on my thesis proposal for the night! 

Maki glances at his phone, raising an eyebrow, “just don’t wait too long, “or you may end up alone, either way.” 

~~~

“I told you we should have gotten dumplings tonight,” you grumble, as the two of you take your takeout back to your apartment, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon, “I can’t believe the sushi place was closed,” you pout. 

And Yuta bites back a smile — his cheeks burn — god, you’re so cute. It wasn’t fair. He knew you were just mostly teasing — only so you could have the pick of the movie tonight — which you knew he’d give you anyway. 

The two of you had settled into these weekly movie nights on Fridays, which had a 70% chance of devolving into a weekend of hangouts amidst work for your programs. It had been weeks since your breakup — and your sadness seemed to ebb with each passing day, normalcy seemingly returning. 

“We could have gone there—“ and you give a long, over dramatic sigh, shaking your head. 

“It’s fine, but if this food sucks, I will be holding this over your head,” you bump him with your shoulder, a smile on Yuta’s lips, and right then someone calls out Yuta’s name. The two of you glance back, and Yuta blinks as he spots his friends. 

“Toge, Panda,” Yuta greets them, Toge’s hands raise as he begins to sign— 

Hey, who’s your friend?

Yuta replies, before gesturing to you, introducing you by name, “we’re just headed back to watch a movie—“ and he points from the shorter one to the taller one, “this is Toge and Panda,” Panda flashes a knowing smile, adjusting his leather jacket, head tilting as he gives you a small once over. Toge’s lips are covered with his face mask, his dyed silver hair brushing against his forehead — 

Panda grins between the two of you, “Ah it’s good to meet you — I heard about you from Yuta, and Maki," he adds, while Yuta shoots him a look that he hopes that you don’t notice, “how’s the work in student government? I hope Maki isn’t working you too hard,” but you seem oblivious to it, only smiling between the two of them. 

“No it hasn’t been bad, and Yuta has made it really easy. He’s been a really big help—“ and Panda before leaning over to whisper in Yuta’s ear. 

“You have a chance with her, don’t mess it up,” Panda’s elbowing him, before clapping him on the back, his arm slinking around his shoulders, while Yuta tries to will his blush to leave his cheeks, “well we should let them get going, right, Toge?” and Toge nods, and Yuta only knows Toge has a smile hidden under his mask as well, flashing a thumbs up out of your line of sight, while you glance between Yuta and Panda, “you two love birds have fun!” 

And Yuta stammered, “We’re not together like that,” he’s shooting a glare at Panda’s back as the two of them walk off, waving. And his eyes snuck a glance at you, but you seemed unfazed, only tilting your head — and shit, his head was spinning, heart doing its best to exit via his chest by banging against his ribs. Did you know? Was it obvious? Was this it? 

“I didn’t know you knew sign language,” 

And apparently it wasn’t. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I learned when I met Toge in high school,” he offers a forced smile — but relief isn’t the only thing that floods his system, disappointment comes in waves — because again, here he was, right back at the start. 

The two of you continued to chat on the walk back to your apartment, his fingers curled tightly around the handles of the takeout bag as you pulled out your keys, wondering how many more times would he do this — how many more times would he think you realized his feelings only for it to remain unspoken? He was more than okay to stay your friend, but — he watched you open the door to your apartment — would he regret not taking a shot at being something more? 

And as you glanced back at him, a smile on your lips, he knew he would. 

~~~

You didn’t think it would — but it had gotten easier, easier to be without Suguru. 

There were days you still had woken up crying, there were other days you had almost forgotten.  

Almost. 

But now in hindsight, adjusting to life without Suguru hadn’t been much different than being with him the last few months. Not when the two of you had barely seen each other. You had put away his things, tucked away the memories, and picked up the scattered parts of your life —even though you couldn’t find the piece he had taken with him. 

But even so, you had finally felt as if you boarded up the love the two of you had built, one that he had set on fire and burnt the insides to nothing but ash and smoke — the same fire that had you coughing up the broken pieces of your heart — throat burning with his name on the tip of your tongue. 

Even so — your fingers found the dragon pendant under your shirt, some things were harder to let go than others. 

But it shouldn’t be hard, right? Love shouldn’t present so many obstacles — it should be simple, easy — not difficult and tenuous. And that’s all your relationship had been — only due to circumstance, but sometimes that was enough. 

And in your case, it had been too much.  

But you knew you couldn’t have made it through without Yuta. Your eyes slide to him, his face illuminated only by the glow of the TV — lights turned off for the best movie night experience. Or at least not as quickly as you did. He was leaning back against the couch, his head leaning towards your side. 

You bite your lip. Your mind wanders to what Panda had said — love birds — it hadn’t been the first time someone had commented on the two of you together. How many of your friends had made some comments about Yuta, even the ones in student government (Maki in particular had been dropping not so subtle hints)? How many of them had you brushed off without a second thought? 

But now — ever so conscious of his weight beside you on the couch, of every twitch of his fingers, shift of his limbs — you had second thoughts. 

You had tried your best to play off Panda’s comment, and Yuta did the same, the two of you had grown used to dancing around this topic. And before you hadn’t thought of Yuta that way in the slightest— not with everything going on — not with your mind still full of Suguru. 

But now…His eyes softly lit by the bouncing lights of the movie, until they found yours, and somehow growing even softer, as his lips curled. 

“Need something?” When was it that Yuta could make your heart flutter with only a smile? He was a friend — right? Just a friend, but now—

He leans over, your heart squeezing as he does — your eyes nearly fluttering shut, his hand brushing your cheek, only for the barest of touches. And your cheeks burned in the dim light of the TV. 

“You had something on your cheek,” he explains, and you nod, biting your lip — as you snap your gaze away, and a small chuckle on his lips, “What is it?”

What was it about him now? His smile was just a smile, his eyes were just eyes, and his presence was only comfort. And now — his smile made your stomach bloom with butterflies, his eyes were depths you wished to swim in, and his presence gave you comfort but in the loneliest of ways — the gap between you both a cliff you stared down, unable to jump. 

So you shake your head instead, “It’s nothing,” you smile as you press your knuckles to your lips. 

Maybe your head was full of someone else for once. 

~~~

“Do you want to grab dinner tonight?” You ask Yuta — a routine for most other weeknights, as you grabbed your bag, as you wait for him outside the conference room as the student government meeting ended for another week, “I heard this new restaurant opened up near my apartment, and we could hang out at my place after—“ 

“I—“ 

“Yuta?” A cute girl comes up to Yuta, and he smiles as he greets her, she pulls Yuta aside, as he chats with her just out of earshot, her hand grazing his shoulder. 

And your stomach turns, a twinge in your heart as you watch the two — you don’t remember Yuta mentioning her, but then again, Yuta rarely talked about himself, even when you asked. It was like pulling teeth — and now here he was. Now, he was smiling at a girl you knew nothing about. 

What was this feeling? You shifted from foot to foot, restlessness settling over your body as you purse your lips as if to prevent unnecessary words from spilling from your lips. Why did you feel so...helpless? Your arms crossed over your chest as if that would hold you together — keep your heart from falling back into the pieces you had meticulously put back together. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

You watched them talk, as the girl finally seemingly said her goodbye and flashed a small smile your way before disappearing down the hallway. 

“Sorry,” Yuta walks back over, a smile on his lips, but you knew that smile wasn’t for you. Not like before, “yeah let’s grab dinner,” 

And you weren’t the same either—

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you force your lips to curl, as you walk past him, “let’s go,” 

—because you were jealous.

~~~

“Yuta, have you thought about dating?'' Your question comes seemingly out of nowhere one night, right after midterms, and Yuta has to stop himself from spitting out the sip of his tea he had taken, forcing himself to swallow. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you, your eyebrow raising, “you good?” 

“Y-yeah sorry,” he clears his throat, hoping his cheeks weren’t flushed red from that, “why do you ask?” 

“I was just curious because we’ve talked a lot about my dating life, but nothing about yours,” it was late, or rather early—nearly 3 AM on a Saturday night, the two of you were half asleep on the couch, stuck in a stubborn battle of not wanting to sleep quite yet, “you don’t talk a lot about yourself,” 

“There’s not much to say,” he shrugs, and your raised brow tells him you’re not satisfied with his reply, he relents with a sigh, “there was a girl I liked when I was a kid — Rika, we met when I was in the hospital,” and your lips twist into a frown, “I was sick a lot when I was little, and that’s when I met Rika. She lived with her grandparents — her parents both had passed when she was even younger. We were inseparable—“ he gives a soft chuckle, “but then she…” his voice wavers. 

“You don’t have to—“ and he’s shaking his head. 

“We were playing and she went into the street to cross when a car sped by—“ and he shakes his head, “she didn’t make it,” your fingers knit together, before one of your hands finds his.

“You didn’t have to share that if you weren’t ready,” and he’s offering a weak smile, squeezing your hand. 

“I wanted to,” he sighs, as he rubs at his eye, “there’s not much I wouldn’t tell you,” and you supposed that was the difference between him and Suguru — communication that wasn’t limited, a conversation that wasn’t one sided, and honesty — without a price. 

“So there’s been no one else since Rika?” you tilt your head, and you swear you see a twinge of red across his cheeks, dusting his features even in the dim light. 

“Why are you asking?” he says slowly, it feels as if he’s caught you, as your gaze snaps away, a pout on your lips, as you press your knuckles to your lips — and it’s as if he got a hold of your thoughts, “is it because of Kirara earlier?” 

“Oh, that’s her name?” Yuta has to bite back a small smile at your narrowed eyes, unable to meet his gaze, “how do you—” 

“She’s a friend from high school — and she’s dating another old friend from high school,” he adds, and your eyes snap to his, “I don’t like her like that anyway — she’s just a good friend, and likes to give me unsolicited advice on my fashion sense,” 

Your lips curl, “Well you are a little basic in your—” and he cuts you off with a look, and you’re shifting your body to face him fully, “so if it’s not Kirara, you don’t have anyone in mind? Not even a crush?” 

Your question feels like an answer in and of itself — along with the look you’re giving him — the same one he had always given you, when you weren’t looking — longing. But what if he was wrong? What if he was projecting? But he could spend his whole time wondering, and never knowing — or he could take the leap. 

He chews on his bottom lip, and he steels himself, his gaze turning back to you, “and if I said there was?” 

Were you ready for this? Would you ever be ready for this? Suguru still lingered in the back of your mind collecting cobwebs, on the tip of your tongue like a curse unspoken — and yet your forefront was filled with nothing but Yuta — his kindness, his honesty, his straightforward nature — all things you hadn’t gotten from Suguru when it mattered, when it counted. And it would be easy — there would be no complications — other than the complications that always came with relationships and emotions. 

But that was far simpler than what you and Suguru had to deal with. 

“Then I’d ask you,” your fingers reaching across a line that was meant to be crossed, but one that perhaps you shouldn’t anyway, “what are you waiting for?” and your hand finds his — his hand smaller than the one you’re used to, but warmer and softer. 

“I don’t want to rush—” and you’re shaking your head, as your squeeze his hand, fingers laced together, as your thumb runs over his palm. 

“We don’t have to,” you murmur, your gaze finding his, and he’s leaning closer to you, as if with a magnetic pull — and you find yourself attracted and not repelled to his pull, “we can take our time, can’t we?” 

And his lips curl into a small smile, his dark eyes nearly consumed by the shadows underneath them, but somehow as soft as they always were — “Is this a dream?” he murmurs, whisper like, as if his words would ripple across the surface of reality until it disappeared within its depths, “I wanted to tell you for so long — but I didn’t know it if was too soon or if—” 

“I know,” it had been three months, three months since you had your heart broken, but you were tired of wallowing, of trying to put your heart back together by yourself — you may have filled in the cracks, but maybe you needed someone to cement the parts back into one — and maybe Yuta was the one, “and maybe it is, but I want to try,” you admit, “is that wrong?” 

And how could he say it was — when it was all he wanted?” 

“No,” his fingertips brush against your cheek, “maybe it’s just right.” 

~~~

He shifted in his sleep, a warm body pressed against him, his arms slinking around your own, your face buried in his neck in the best way he could imagine. Your fingers raked through his jet black locks, you pressed a sweet kiss to his neck, and a soft groan left his lips. 

“Baby, finally awake?” your lips press a smile against his skin, your finger drawing a circle against his chest, “we have to get up soon, we’ll be late,” you murmur, “and I know how you feel about being late,” your nose brushes against his jumping pulse, “Sugu?” 

Suguru groans softly, burying his face in your hair, “Five more minutes,” and you chuckle against him, his favorite sound that graces his ears, his eyes fluttering shut again, as he surrounds himself in your scent — the notes of lavender and rosemary from your shampoo, “just want to spend a few more minutes with you, sweetheart — I need you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

You hum, rubbing his head softly, fingers curling around one of the locks of his hair, “I don’t recall you gracing me with five minutes when I was late on that first day,” 

He groans, shifting only to bury himself in your chest, pressing soft kisses to the valley between your breasts, nose pressed against the hollow of your throat, the cold metal of the dragon pendant against his cheek, “I wasn’t your boyfriend then,” he’s leaning back only to press a sweet kiss to your lips, again and again — it always felt so right being with you. 

“But you’re not my boyfriend now,” and he pauses, before glancing up at you, your eyes glassy with tears, “remember?” your fingers ghosted over his cheek. 

RING. RING. RING. 

His eyes don’t bother to open as he reaches for his phone, turning off the ringer, before his hand reaches for you, only to find an empty space beside him. He flutters his eyes open, glancing over, and finds your absence beside him. 

It had been months, but you still haunted him—and he would spend the rest of his life running from the ghost of what could have been—and pretending it doesn’t hurt. 

He turns on his side to look away from your side of the bed — even though it still did.

~~~

You stared at the outfits laid out on the bed — practically your entire closet threw up your complete wardrobe, and even so, you couldn’t find a single thing you wanted to wear. Or rather— 

You tossed another blouse onto the pile— you couldn’t find a single thing that didn’t remind you of Suguru. One of these he had said brought out your eyes, the other he had picked out for you, and the other he had taken you out on your one month anniversary for a surprise date. 

There were too many memories — and too many that you didn’t care to relive. Especially today, as your phone goes off — I’ll be on my way over soon. Are you almost ready? 

Fuck. Yuta was on his way almost and you hadn’t even finished picking an outfit. 

By almost ready, do you mean not ready at all? You bite your lip, I know it’s silly but I can’t decide what to wear. 

You dig two outfits out of the bottom of the pile — and stare at them — you didn’t like to wear new outfits on a first date, but maybe this would be a fresh start for you. One where you could leave behind some of the memories tied around your ankles like anchors, dragging you down the depths of waters you didn’t want to explore any longer. 

Your phone goes off again — You’d look amazing in anything — I’ll be there soon. 

Your lips curl at the sight of his text — you choose a dress, tugging your shirt over your head and your shorts down, before pulling the dress down. And you adjust your hair in the mirror, before looking closely at yourself — a glint catching your eyes. 

Your fingers ghost over the dragon pendant — you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to take it off. But maybe it was time — and your hands reach around unclasping the chain before placing it in the palm of your hand. 

Your fingertip traces over the rainbow colored gems — and he wondered if he even still thought of you like you thought of him. It was so easy for him to leave — so did he put you out of his mind while he was at it? You held the necklace over the trash bin next to your vanity — your fingers squeezing at the chain and pendant, as it dug into your skin — should you toss it away like he had with you? 

No —you pulled your hand back — no, you couldn’t. You placed the necklace in the box it came in, tucking it away behind some things. 

You heard your phone go off again, as you spared one last glance at the vanity, where the box was hidden away— 

Because it still meant something to you. Even if it didn’t to him. 

~~~

“You complain about my movies, but the one you chose was much worse,” you say as you unlock your apartment, “that plot line made little to no sense,” 

“If you suspend your disbelief—“ 

You stop, your key hanging from your door, as you stare at him, “I can believe that supernatural powers exist in that universe, but why would the universe entrust these powers to the stupidest people alive?” He snorts, as you continue unlocking the door, as you spare a glance at Yuta who is still fidgeting near your doorway, “you gonna come in?” 

“I-well, I thought since this our first date, maybe I shouldn’t since you wouldn’t do that one a first date,” and you blink, your lips curling, as you watch him trip over his words, cheeks tinged pink, “not that anything would happen if I did come in—but—“ 

You step closer, silencing his words, seemingly stuck in his throat, “You really thought a lot about this, haven’t you?” and your fingers brush his, slowly intertwining with his as you bridge the gap, “I really appreciate it,” 

He bites his lip, eyes sliding sideways, as he does, before he’s tilting his head again, “I just don’t want you rush into anything, and I don’t want us to still feel like—” 

“Just friends I know,” you smile, “well then why don’t we leave it here for tonight, but call me when you get home?” He slowly nods, but he still isn’t leaving, “Yuta?” 

And he steps a little closer, your breath catches, stuck in your lungs, as your chest squeezes when his fingers find your cheek, “Can I kiss you?” And your answer comes before you know it as you nod wordlessly. 

His lips curl into a smile, as he leans closer and your noses bump, a small chuckle escaping your lips before his lips find yours. 

It’s chaste, at first, until his lips find yours in a firmer kiss. He tastes faintly of the salt and butter of the popcorn he just had, and you can feel him smile against your lips, before you both part. 

Your lips curl, “Well that is definitely something I never do with a friend,” 

“You sure?” He murmurs and you hum, as your foreheads press against the other’s, as your fingers intertwine and you tug him inside your apartment. 

“Maybe just the ones I really like.” 

~~~

“You look happy,” Maki notes, as Yuta shows up early to work on a project for student government — it had been a few days since their first date, and Yuta had just gotten a text from you asking if he was coming over tonight. His lips quirked upwards as he told you he’d be there after he finished his work, as his eyes flitted up to find Maki’s, “don’t tell me you actually got the balls to ask her—“ and his eyes won’t quite meet her own, a smile on his lips, “fuck, don’t tell me—” 

“We had our third date last night—” and he earns himself a hard punch to his shoulder, as he jolts, staring at Maki, “ow! Why—” 

“Three dates and you tell me now?” and Yuta’s rubbing his shoulder, as he frowns, “what’s with the face? My punch didn’t hurt that bad,” she takes a seat, and leans back in her chair, as she rifles through the paperwork, 

He shakes his head, “I wasn’t sure if I should be going around telling people — it’s new—” 

“Wouldn’t you be happy to talk about your relationship?” And he’s hesitating, and Maki’s chair legs clack against the floor as she leans forward again, “what are you so scared of still?” 

What was it that he was scared of? That it wouldn’t work out? That he’d lose you before he had even truly had you? That he’d hurt you? And it was true, he was scared of all of those things, but it wasn’t those things holding him back— 

“I saw the way she talked about her ex, the smile she had when she would come off talking about him,” he leans against his hand, elbow propped up on the table, “she always had this smile on her face — just this look that I don’t think I’ve ever seen her have with me—“ 

“A look doesn’t make or break a relationship, Okkotsu,” Maki says with a sigh, “and she was already in that relationship for who knows how long at that point?”

“I know, but—“ 

“I can’t tell you how to run your relationship but you have to decide whether you’re in this or not — because if you keep comparing yourself, you’ll never be happy,” and Yuta nods, before glancing at her, “what?” 

“How do you know so much about this?” Maki crosses her arms, a slight blush on her cheeks. 

“You’re not the only one with a social life—“ but she cuts him off before he can ask more questions, “but this is about you, not me,” she leans forward, “you need to focus on your relationship now, not her old one,” 

And he nods — he needed to trust you, otherwise this would never work with his head stuck in the past or looking into the future. Otherwise, this insecurity would seep like poison into his present — and he would lose you anyway. 

“You’re right, thanks Maki,” and his phone goes off again, another text from you — I miss you — come soon. 

Maybe he just needed to trust you — and himself. But even so, as he typed his reply to you — I’ll pick up dinner on the way. I’ll be back soon. Promise — but why was it so difficult? 

~~~ 

“Ah, Yu,” you murmured against his lips before swallowing your words completely, you were even prettier breathless than he had imagined. Well, more like than he had dreamt. He had resisted the urge to fantasize about you, thinking it would be disrespectful, crossing a line that wasn’t meant to be crossed. But that didn’t mean he could control his subconscious when he would slip into the embrace of sleep. 

He’d see you beside him on the couch, and you’d lean over and simply find his lips as if you’d done it a million times before. And he’d melt into your touch with such practiced ease, his fingers skimming over your sides, and he was desperate for more, more, more. He would only slide his hands up your thighs, fingertips brushing against the fabric of your panties before he’d wake in sweat soaked sheets and his cock straining against his boxers. 

This was so much better. 

It had started on the couch just like his dream, the two of you lying together, cuddling on the couch as the two of you half watched a movie. 

“Are you sleepy?” He asked softly, tucking a strand behind your ear, and you shake your head, as you shift closer to him, half of your body pressed against him. He did his best not to shift much, as you move even closer to him, nearly lying on top of him, “what—“ 

His breath catches as you lean closer, “can I—“ and he’s nodded without a second thought, as your lips found his, and his fingers found your hips. His tongue grazed the seam of your lips before slipping inside, and he eagerly steals your breath from your very lungs. And you’re moving, now lying squarely on top of him, your hips pressed against his, as his already hard cock throbs against your cunt. 

He bites back a moan when he feels just how wet you already are, soaking through your shorts and drenching  his sweatpants, “Fuck,” he murmurs, as your lips both part for a breath, as he cups your chin, only to press hot kisses to your burning skin, “baby, you taste so good,” 

And that’s where he found himself now. 

Your tiny gasps and murmurs of his name, as his lips explored what skin he could reach, while his hands slid up and down your body, now warm palms resting above your hips, toying with the hem of your shirt. 

“Yuta, please,” the whine in your throat makes the heat grow thicker been you two, the movie fading into but white noise, as he cards his fingers through your hair, “don’t tease me,” 

And he’s swallowing thickly, his dick twitching at the thought of taking this further — the two of you had done everything but this step, your hands had grazed under the other’s clothes, grinded against each other as you made out, but one of you would end up stopping it for one reason or another. It was a game of chicken, one or the other seemingly daring the other to take that step — but neither of you had. 

But now — as his thumb dragged over your puffy, kiss ruined lips, “Do you want to?” he asks an unspoken question, his resistance weakening to your touches, your fingers ghosting up his chest before one of your hands finds his cheek. 

“I do,” you answer, but bite your lip, “I’m just…a little nervous,” and his lips press a sweet kiss to your forehead. 

“We can always wait — I never want to make you feel uncomfortable, baby,” he’s featherlight in his touches now, “it’s up to you,” and it was — he would wait for you, as long as you wanted him. 

You smile at him, finding his lips in another kiss — he didn’t know it was possible for someone to be this soft, or feel this good — he could taste the sweetness of ice cream you had ate earlier on your lips, but you were so much better than any dessert. 

Your fingers rake gently through his hair, “Let’s move to the bedroom?” 

~~~

You wanted Yuta — you did. You had for the weeks the two of you had dated. It had been almost two months, and the two of you hadn’t had sex yet. There wasn’t a reason to rush, but there wasn’t a reason not to. The line had been edged to the brink of insanity — for the both of you. There was always seemingly a reason to stop — an early class, a late night, stomach upset — and it always felt like timing was just off. But it wasn’t always just the timing. 

It was also you. 

Every time you and Yuta got close, each time you felt even an ounce of pleasure, the guilt of Suguru would claw up your throat, again and again. And you were sure Yuta had noticed. But even if he had, you didn’t know a way to explain without making him think you were still in love with Suguru — which you weren’t. 

You didn’t think you were. The guilt lingered, like blood dried from a still open wound, scabbed over but not healed, easily reopened with even a scratch or a step. And it felt like with each step you took away from Suguru, you bled more and more — but you didn’t know how to stop the bleeding. You couldn’t stem the bleeding at its source, not when the person you had cut it open didn’t even give you a chance to speak. 

And you couldn’t talk to Yuta about it — not when you still hadn’t explained who Suguru is — and what exactly he does for work. Or much of anything else and you didn’t even know how to begin that conversation or why it would be necessary. Does he need to know all of that when you would be graduating soon enough and Suguru would be only a distant memory. 

But you hoped Yuta wouldn’t be. 

Your fingers laced with his as you led him to your bedroom — as you pull him inside, shutting the door behind you. You gently guide him onto your bed and have him sit while you stand, your fingers cupping his face, as his breath hitches at your proximity. His lips parted ever so slightly, as a pretty pink settled over his cheeks. 

“Baby, are you sure?” His lips are half twisting in a frown, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips and back again, “I don’t want—“ 

And your lips find his in a soft kiss, pressing yourself between his legs, as your hands find purchase on his shoulders, “I want you, Yuta,” you murmur, you were tired of letting the past dictate your present — you wanted to move forward, “don’t you want me too?” And your lips ghost over his jaw up to his ear, as you whisper in it, while leaving kisses that make his body shiver, wondering if you’ve turned his blood to ice or made it turn to steam with how his skin burned. 

“You’re not playing fair” he mumbles, as he buries your face in the crook of your neck, and you laugh, your fingers skimming the back of his neck. 

“I’m here to win, we never said anything about fair,” you twirl the black locks resting against his neck, your lips press another kiss to his cheekbone, “you still haven’t answered my question—“

 “Of course I want you,” he looks up at you, his need like a spark catching fire on your body, “I always have,”

“Well I’m right here,” you murmur, you tilt his chin up, fingers threaded in his black locks, “what are you going to do about it?” 

~~~

Yuta was going to lose his mind — but it’s just as well, you already had his heart. 

At your words, he’s tugging you even closer as he moves back on the bed, gaze hot as he watches you move, sitting on his lap — knees on either side of his waist. Fuck, you felt so good against him, plush thighs pressing into his hands already sliding down your lower back and grazing your ass to press you impossibly closer. 

“Good boy,” you murmur, and his blood flees his cheeks to his cock, twitching against your clothed cunt, and you smirk, a giggle escaping your lips, “you like that, huh?” you breath against his ear, “my good boy,” 

And in an instant, you’re pinned under him, and you’re blinking up at him, smile exchanged for parted lips, as his hands slide up your sides, and he’s leaning down to kiss you. His mouth burns against yours, tongue teasing the seam of your lips, before they part for him. 

“Now who’s being good for who?” he murmurs, as he pulls back with your teeth catching his bottom lip between your teeth. He groans, grinding against you, the length of his cock grinding against your clothed slit, “you won't let me have a moment, can you?” He murmurs, a red flush on his cheeks that makes you grin. 

“Not as long as you’re with me, Yu,” and god, that nickname for him makes his head spin— it’s already so much — the picture of you spread so prettily for him, your thighs parted under him, shirt riding up, just asking for him to slide underneath, and your bodies pressed together in all of the right places, as if neither of you could get close enough. 

And apparently you couldn’t, as you guide his hands to the hem of your shirt, and you’re helping him pull it over your head before tossing it onto the floor. And he sees nothing underneath, your nipples pebbled and hard under his gaze, so pretty for him. 

When his fingers twitch, you chuckle, “touch me,” and your words melt away his reservations, as his hands find your breasts, warm palms squeezing and teasing the soft flesh. He leans down and presses a kiss to one of your pert nipples, his tongue flicking the pert bud, drawing a small gasp from your lips, a pretty noise he wants to make fall from your lips again and again. Your head falls back into your pillow, as he switches sides, teasing the one with his lips, while he rolls the other between his index and thumb. 

“Fuck, Yuta,” he smiles against you, as his lips begin to kiss down your body, starting with the valley of your breasts before trailing wet kisses down your stomach, until he reaches the waistband of your shorts. And his eyes are flicking up to meet yours to ask silently, and your nod is all it takes for his fingers to dip in and tug the thin fabric down your legs, fingers dragging along the dips and curves of your legs as he does. He bends down to steal kisses to your swell of your hips and the crown of your knee. 

“S’pretty,” he’s mumbling, as his eyes find the wet patch on your underwear, fabric messy and soaked through as it cling helplessly to your hard clit, “how are you this pretty, baby?” 

“All for you, sweet boy,” you’re murmuring, as you hiss when he’s teasing your clit through your panties, “Yu, fuck—“ he could cum just listening to you — he doesn’t know what he’ll do once he’s inside you—

But one step at a time. 

He’s leaning down to press a kiss to it, before he’s slipping two fingers into the elastic to tug it down, with a nod from you. He’s pressing kisses and nips to your inner thigh, relishing in the marks he leaves on you — ones that he and you would only see. And finally you’ve kicked your underwear off, fully bare for him. 

“How do you smell so sweet?” he’s whispering, as his eyes drag over your exposed folds, and a whimper escapes your lips, he can’t wait to make you moan. And he’s bending down to drag his tongue over your dripping cunt, a thick stripe that has you gasping, fingers winding their way into his black locks, nails digging deliciously into his scalp. 

And you taste even better than he imagined — so good that he's already lapping at your folds, tip of his tongue flicking over your clit — and he hears the wrinkle of the sheets as your toes curl into them. He’s rutting into your mattress, ready to cum in his boxers at how good your pussy feels — dick nearly bursting at the thought of having your cunt around him. 

“Fuck, baby,” you’re swearing under your breath, as your body tenses under his tongue, he begins to slurp at your juices. His hands find their way under the soft flesh of your thighs to tug you flush to his lips, “Yu, so good,” and all he can hear are the lewd sounds of his tongue buried in your pussy, working your walls open, pretty walls fluttering around him, “feel so good, ngh, ah—” your eyes find his, and it’s enough for him to blow his load then and there — eyes blown out with lust as they meet his own, your lips parted in lovely pants and moans. 

And he knows you’re close, can feel it in the way your walls shudder, and he’s burying himself in your cunt, fucking you open with his tongue while he rubs your clit in quick circles. 

“Yu, I’m cum—“ and you cut yourself off with a moan, back arching as you cum hard, his name on your lips, and he’s eating you out through your orgasm, greedily drinking every bit of release you give him. And it’s only when it’s too much, your body slightly shaking, as you gently pull at his hair, that he eases off. 

You watch him with half lidded eyes as he pulls away, still between your thighs — lips and chin glossy and drenched in your release. He licks his lips and chin clean, watching you come down from your high, fuck, the way your walls clench around nothing makes him want to bury his face back in your folds. 

“So good, Yu, s’good for me,” you’re panting, sweat slicked against your skin, as you’re gently tugging at him, and he obliges, keening at the praise as he slips up your body until your lips find his. You moan, tasting yourself on his lips, a sloppy, messy kiss that leaves him breathless. 

And you’re flipping you both over, his eyes dilating at the sight of you, eyes raking over his body, eager hands thumbing at the hem of his shirt. 

Your lips in a smirk that leaves his dick throbbing, “my turn, Yu, let me make you feel good,”your hands make quick work of his shirt, tugging it up and over, tossing it in the growing pile of clothes in the corner of your bedroom. 

Your lips press sweet kisses all over his chest, fingers teasing his chest, but you have bigger intentions in mind, as your fingers quickly find their way to the waistband of his sweatpants. And with a nod given, you’re deftly tugging it down with a raise of his hips to pull the fabric off and kicked away, leaving him only in his boxers. 

You bite your lip when you see the large wet patch from his pre, your fingers teasing his slit through the fabric, drawing a hiss from his lips. He swallows, watching your pretty lips bend down to press a kiss to his cock through the fabric. And it’s enough for him to lose his mind completely, “please,” he whimpers, and you smile down at him, dragging your thumb down his lips. 

“Please what?” you ask innocently, for someone whose fingers were grazing his erection the way they were, he swallows as he watches your finger trace up and down his clothes cock, “what do you want me to use? My hand? My mouth?” 

And he’s shaking his head, “Anything, just please I need—“ and your fingers dip into the elastic of his boxers, snapping it against his skin, a yelp escaping his lips that makes you giggle, “that’s not nice—“ and he’s gasping when your lips press a hot kiss to his hip, your eyes lidded with desire. 

“Who said I was nice?” 

~~~

You were going to be the death of him, and with the way your fingers tug down his boxers — finally freeing his cock, slapping against his stomach as it does — it would be a sweet death. 

“Didn’t know your cock was so pretty like the rest of you, Yu,” and it was, so long and thick, pearly precum dripping down his flushed length, veins that ran up and down the length that you were far too eager to trace, “can’t wait to taste you,” you’re murmuring, as your tongue flicks down against his slit. 

“B-baby, please,” his hand is covering his face, but you reach up to pry it away, seeing the lovely red that settled over his cheeks, lips parted in need as he painted, “please—“ 

And your fingers wrap around his dick, thumbing the slit and working the precum up and down his length. And he’s moaning your name on his lips again and again, as you kiss his tip sliding your fingers down to his base and squeezing. And when your lips part for him, sliding his length in your mouth, his head falls back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut as he can’t help but roll his hips into your mouth. And when his tip brushes the back of your throat, it’s enough for him to cum right then and there, but he doesn’t want to — not yet, not until he’s inside you. 

He’s easing you off, watching strings of pre and your spit connect you to his aching cock, as you look up at him, and he’s pulling you into a messy kiss, tasting his own pre on your lips. 

“I need you,” he’s murmuring, fingers finding your hips, “baby, please,” 

You smile, parting from him, “how do you need me?” And he’s swallowing, cock twitching, and he knows he’s one stroke too fast from bursting — so he needs control. 

“Lie on the bed, baby,” and you do, easing from between his legs, and onto your back, head against the plush pillows. He parts your legs for you, warm palms squeezing your flesh teasingly, drawing a whine from you, he presses your thighs up, letting them hook around his back, as his skin meets yours. And god, you’re perfect, “how did I get so lucky? You’re so perfect, so pretty,” and he’s slotting himself between your thighs, fingers lining up his cock with your dripping slit, his curiosity getting the better of him as he drags the head up your messy folds still slick with your release, and groans as he watches your walls flutter around nothing, “so good for me, are you ready, baby?” 

You’re nodding, “please Yu, I need—” and his tip is sliding into you, his length stretching your walls far too well, and it’s enough for him to cum right there — as your cunt adjusts to his size, dragging against you as he pushes past your entrance. It’s enough for him to cum right there, but he wants it to be good for you both — wants you to hear you praise him again, wants to hear you say his name again and again until you fall apart on his cock. 

And finally he’s bottoming out, a moan from both of your lips, your walls fluttered around his length, your head lolls back a moment, before your eyes flutter open and meet his, “S’good, Yu, please, move,” and he’s cupping your cheek, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, before he begins to fuck you slowly. 

The echoes of your skin meeting his rings in hie ears, needy walls pulling you back in even as he tried to pull out, sinking deeper and deeper each time he fucked you. 

He’s burning, ready to melt at your very touch, putty in your hands to bend and shape at your will, even as you swallow him whole, he’s ready for you to consume every inch of him with your being. 

“Feels s’good, Yuta,” you’re moaning, legs around his hips pulling him impossibly closer, “such a good boy,” and his cock twitches, your mixed releases forming a ring around the base of his length, “s’good, need more,” 

And he’s groaning, as your wet squelches fill the silence between both of your moans and pants — and you’re close, as he gives a particularly deep thrust that finds the spot that has you seeing stars. Your head falls back, lips parted in his name, “Yu, I’m close — ngh, please—“ and he’s smiling, his cheeks surely flushed blood red, panting, as he reaches between your bodies to find your clit. 

“Cum f’me, baby,” he’s murmuring, and you’re nodding, as you fall apart for him, toes curling as you cum hard around him, making him groan your name as he spills his warm seed inside you, pumping slowly as he does. His body slows as you both come down from your highs, and he slowly rolls off of you, running fingers through your hair and pressing sweet kisses, “are you okay?” he murmurs, eyes soft with affection, but laced with concern. 

You smile, “I’m more than okay,” you press your face into his chest, and he’s shivering at your touch, pulling you even closer, “I’m with you,” and his fingers run up and down your cheek, before leaning down to meet your lips in a soft kiss. 

That’s right, he smiles as he kisses your forehead — he was with you. And the past didn’t matter — when he was in your present. 

“I’ll always be with you,” he mutters against your lips. 

And hopefully in your future. 

~~~

“What are you doing, I thought you were almost done,” Yuta mumbles against the soft skin of your neck, pressing sweet kisses that did nothing but sap the need for productivity from your very veins — leaving only behind thoughts of his touch behind, “baby,”

“Yu, I promise I’m almost done, I just have to send this email about my thesis and you’ll have my undivided attention,” you both had been stuck in the end of the semester rush, trying to find time for each other — leaving you stressed out and Yuta a little needy. That’s what this night was supposed to be for — a chance to reconnect, and yet here you were working. But you had to send this thesis out or you knew Yaga would have your head for delaying your work on your outline for so long — something you would be spending next semester fleshing out into a full thesis you’d be presenting. 

He nods, but continues to pepper you with kisses, your skin nearly molten under his touch as his arms wrap around your waist to pull you further into his lap instead of beside him on the couch, “After all the work I did to snag Professor Yaga as my thesis advisor, I cannot let the department head down with my draft,” 

He hums, vibrations making you nearly shiver, “I know, I’m really proud of you. I know you’re going to have something really special by the end of the year,” and you shake your head. 

“I just hope I make it past the defense — it’s the most nerve wracking part,” you sigh, “a room of my peers and professors staring me down while I discuss the work I’ve done,” you proof read the email for the millionth time — scanning for any errors and make sure the attachment is the correct attachment — and finally click send, and sigh before relaxing into his arms. 

“Can I come to your defense?” Yuta asks, perking up, and you smile, leaning back against him. 

“Are you sure you’d want to come? It’s going to be just me rambling about my thesis and answering a bunch of questions,” you kiss his jaw softly, nosing the small hickey you left blooming on his pale skin last night, “might not be the most exciting thing,” 

“I want to support you, as long as you want me there,” and you can’t help but wonder — would Suguru show up to your defense? The thought makes your stomach churn at the thought of them watching you present, eyes flitting from one to the other. You had doubts he would show himself there — but the only catch was if Yaga would twist his arm. And then what? You had nearly blown your relationship wide open once before when you had ran into Suguru in front of Yuta—

You couldn’t risk it again. 

“Let me think about it, ok?” You nuzzle your nose against his cheek, as he frowns, “I just think if I have you there, I might get too nervous—“ 

He shakes his head, “Whatever makes you comfortable, either way, we’re going to celebrate right after,” and you tilt your head. 

“What if I don’t pass?” And he shakes his head. 

“If hell freezes over, I think we’ll have bigger problems,” and you snort, “but on the very off chance you don’t, you still accomplished something incredible—“ and your lips find his, and he melts into your kiss after a moment. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, “I’m so lucky to have you,” and he curls his lips into a sweet smile. 

“I’m the lucky one,” and his lips press against yours this time, meeting yours again and again, until you’re placing your laptop aside, and turning to sit in his lap, “baby,” heat rolls off his body in waves, as your fingers trace down his chest. 

“I heard someone wanted my undivided attention tonight,” you smile, before taking your phone and placing it on ‘do not disturb,’ “well now what are you going to do with it?” 

He smiles, “Don’t know if we’ll have enough time for everything, but,” he presses a kiss to your jaw, “we can try,” and the two of you are making your way to the bedroom soon enough, unaware that you had gotten an important email that night—

From: Suguru Geto 

Subject Line: Regarding Your Thesis Advisor

~~~

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you’re adjusting your hair as you sprint your way to Professor Yaga’s office. This is what you get for staying up far too late with your far too tempting boyfriend. And now you woke up thirty minutes before the meeting, with barely enough time to make it on time, much less breath. Yuta gave you a kiss goodbye, but that’s all he had time for — before you were out the door. 

But you finally reached Yaga’s door, catching your breath when you took a second to regain your composure before knocking. You blinked — weird, his door was usually open. And the door opens, but it isn’t Yaga—

It’s Suguru? 

It’s Suguru. 

You stare at him, wondering if this is another twisted nightmare you had ensnared yourself in, but no — it isn’t. Because even your subconscious couldn’t make a scenario this twisted. His lips parted to say something, but you beat him to it. 

“If you’re meeting with Professor Yaga, I can come back at a different time, Professor,” the title slips from your lips without barely a thought, but it carries far too much weight. A flicker of emotion catches on the corner of his lips and in the glint of his eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. 

“You’re on time, but I still you did not have the time to check your email before this meeting,” he tilts his head, as you blink slowly, “please come in and have a seat,” 

And you do, taking a seat across from him as he sits on the other side of the desk, you shift in your seat, as you take him in for the first time in months — his hair was still long, black tresses brushing against his shoulders, hair half up in a neat bun near the crown of his head; his eyes tucked behind his glasses for once, but you could see the burgeoning beginnings of dark bags under his eyes; and his clothes were meticulous as always — and you spot the tie pin he has — it’s the one you had gifted him near the beginning of your relationship — a joke that you had made about pinning him down in class turned into a gift. 

And that makes your neck feel all the more bare. 

“Is Professor Yaga ok?” and Suguru sighs, running his fingers through his hair. 

“He’s fine, he is sick at the moment — and receiving treatment,” you sigh in slight relief, “so he’s decided to take the rest of this semester off, as well as next semester,” and you sigh, leaning back as you cover your lips with your hand. 

“Is he going to be—” 

“He has a good prognosis, and his son’s with him, looking after him, so it should be fine,” he says softly, and his lips curl in a small smile, as he flips through the papers on Yaga’s desk. 

“What’s with the smile?” and he shakes his head, as he rifles through the stacks of paperwork, until he seemingly finds what he’s looking for. 

“Nothing, just noticing that your habit of worrying about others before yourself hasn’t changed,” and you glare slightly at him, pursing your lips, as he slides a stapled stack of papers to you. 

“And what’s this—” 

“Your thesis proposal,” and you take it, flipping through and grimacing at the red pen, “and my thoughts on it,” you scoff, as you see the familiar picture of his scribbles and notes in the margins of your work. 

“It looks like old habits die hard for the both of us,” as you finish flipping through, but your brow knits together as the pieces of news start to fit together like a puzzle — with a very mortifying picture, and your eyes meet his, slowly — the news going as well over as a lead balloon, and crashing down on your head like one, “so does this mean—” 

His lips curl in a small smile, “I’ll be taking over as your thesis advisor — for the rest of the year.” 

✧ a/n: it was supposed to be the last part and now! we have. one more part since i decided i wanted to flesh out the final arc a little more! one more part of this and it will be all done...:)

✧ taglist: @hatsunemitskislobotomy , @difficultdomains , @diogodxlot , @that-goth-bisexual , @dazailover1900 0, @aliyalala , @ashhlsstuff , @blue041803 , @mwtsxri i , @bblgumfairy , @sukunasleftkneecap , @xo-evangeline , @fiannee , @teatreeoilll , @chalametet , @ryukaver , @d1gitalbathh , @saga3ious , @seventhcinema , @satosugucide , @your-l0nely-star , @sokkasmoon , @deegausserr , @hyookka , @oggsyy , @littlebitb , @higuchislut , @ti-mame , @itoshisins , @cerene-dipity , @onionsoop , @sinlillith , @izzythenaive , @lalacute03 , @rxndou , @c-themoon , @xxrag-d0llxx , @hqtoge , @sugarxlumps , @hopeluna , @actualdeemon , @enchantedpendant , @serendididy , @soulstealercat , @neuviloved , @simply-a-s1mp , @satorusmochis , @maddietries

[creature-once-removed]

.

[yzzart]

Love your Tom blyth fics an unhealthy amount!!! I’m picturing reader and Tom being all lovey dovey at the premiers but playing it off as really good bestfriends UNTIL she goes to kiss him on the cheek and in instinct he turns his head to kiss her on the lips so they just say fuck it and hard launch there and then x

"An unplanned situation."

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader

summary: a small gesture, with a sweet intention, revealed a promising secret.

word count: 1.359!

notes: i started this request in the morning and only had the opportunity to finish it a few minutes ago, forgive me for that, anon! — i hope you like it and of course, feel free to share ideas with me!

"Y/N, look here!"

Another request, among others, screams and countless flashes, was directed to you; being, theoretically, almost impossible to identify who had demanded your image. — There were so many voices mixing, not to mention the music in the background, but, you tried your best to pay attention to most of the cameras.

However, it wasn't anything you weren't used to; something that has already been normalized in your life.— And during the premiere of The ballad of songbirds and snake it was no different, and it was splendid; simply perfect. — Not to mention, the feeling of gratitude that grew in your chest.

Cameras and cell phones captured your every movement, your poses and the way your perfectly chosen dress was valued and highlighted on your body. — And how it matched the color palette of the film. — Everything was being recorded, at the exact moment, posted and commented on all social networks.

You had the opportunity to meet, talk and take photos with some of the cast. — It was so pleasant, the company and unity that everyone developed during the filming of the film was inexplicable and so adorable; you were grateful to have worked with so many talented people. — There were some people who were absent, until now, in your eyes, but you would definitely meet them again on the carpet.

And, of course, your eyes roamed the decorated room, matching the elements of the film, and crowded in search of a specific person. — It wasn't exaggerated words to say that you were starting to feel uncomfortable because he was missed; and the cameras recorded it. — Silent questions, which would be written, formed in the minds of the presenters and photographers.

Your boyfriend had yet to appear on the red carpet; perhaps he is giving a quick and curious interview or greeting someone. — That's what was going on in your head.

You and Tom had a secret relationship, ever since you met behind the scenes, in front of the world and all the cameras that may exist in it; something that was so risky and at the same time adventurous. — And that, as incredible as it might seem, you knew how to disguise it in front of your fans; even though they gradually became suspicious with comments, interactions and behind-the-scenes photos.

They were either smart or you and Tom were too far over the line. — This question was not important or essential for the moment. — And you considered each other best friends for interviews or responses to comments; you tried your best.

And so, Rachel sent countless screenshots of tweets, which talked about or mentioned the relationship between you and Tom, to you. — It's impossible to deny how funny it was.

Persisting in continuing to look for him and for a few seconds, your eyes meet his blue and so charming irises. — Its shade of blue was a magnificent and beautiful combination; something you would never get tired of admiring. —And there was no other thing, or anyone, that could take his eyes off you.

As if the only thing that mattered at that moment was you. — And everything around him simply disappeared.

"There you are!" — Tom walked towards you, easily as there weren't so many people on the carpet, and an enthusiastic smile forming on his lips; also accompanied by cameras and intense flashes. — "And so beautiful!"

Holding a part of your long and dazzling dress so as not to hinder your steps, you met him, and without wasting any time, hugged him. — A common gesture, and not so different or strange, for the spectators; so, you thought. — Tom's arms went around your waist, holding your protectively for a little while, while your arms positioned themselves around his neck.

Tom's fragrance, which you liked so much, filled your nose; it felt so good, and you felt your eyes weaken, contaminated by it. — And the british man was aware of that.

"You look perfect, always." — The older man distanced himself, just a little, and brought his face closer to your ear, wanting only you to hear. — "The most beautiful woman that has ever crossed my eyes." — The lenses probably captured a reddish pigmentation on your cheeks and it was not part of your makeup.

You placed one of your hands on his chest, and looking directly into his eyes; that shone at you, and it wasn't just because of the influence of the lights in your direction. — Tom's gaze was sincere, and passionate, intensely fascinating you. — He conveyed what he felt most with just his eyes.

And that was one of the facts about him that you were passionate about and recognized very well.

"Oh, shut up!" — Raising your hand and resting it a little away from your mouth, you laughed a little embarrassed and looked back at the cameras; remembering that they remained there and you knew that later you would see your interaction with Tom on some social media.

Again, a thing and situation you were used to.

"Look at that camera!" — A voice mingled among others, which requested the same request, asking you to take some photos together; something that would feed news, fans and press.

At no point, minute or second, did you and Tom remain distant or apart from each other; always a few steps close, hugging each other for photos and certain looks, completely indiscreet. — Even during brief interviews, as Blyth mentioned you or your character's work, you were silently watching. — One of the interviewers even commented on how cute she thought it was.

Tom's hand was on your waist, holding and almost covering you, making a quick caress in a few seconds and one of your hands was still resting on his chest; and you continued, of course, to be the focus of the cameras.

Quickly, with the intention of changing your pose and trying something new and also to take advantage of the fact that Blyth's face was almost close to yours, you decide to place your pigmented lips on his cheeks. — Such a cute and friendly gesture, and so common. —But, automatically and hastily, Tom turned his face away at the same time, without having in mind what you were, in fact, planning. — God, it was a shock; an absurd and completely intense shock.

For the first time that night, in that place and on those cameras, your lips touched Tom's lips. — It was very quick, good and surprising; and that definitely left a cold, freezing air in your belly accompanied by a desperate feeling in your mind. — Rumor has it that smoke was coming out of his head. — It was a peck, a quick and simple kiss.

When you separated, hurriedly, your eyes met Tom's once again; who were a little wide-eyed, expressing surprise. — Looking for something to say or do, just like you. — And you watched his lips curve into an almost smile, as if he was trapping him.

Shouts of enthusiasm and some possible whistles echoed throughout the immense place, along with some looks and expressions of surprise at what had happened. — And some people were worried if they had recorded the exact moment, of course. — Your fans were probably commenting frantically about what happened.

You really didn't know what to do but at no point did you move away from your boyfriend — now, official to the public — and keep your hand on his chest; as if it were, in fact, planned.

"A nice way to reveal it, huh?" — Tom laughed, relaxed and without a feeling of discomfort or uneasiness, he still had his hand on your waist; and he still squeezed you, then leaving you with another caress. — "I think." — He didn't look at the cameras, his orbits focused only on you.

They have always focused on you, regardless of what is actually happening; and that will never change.

"A nice way to reveal." — You repeated your words, but, as an affirmation and certainty; maybe, seeing how relieved Tom was, and not showing some kind of distress, your chest calmed down and you felt safe.

And soon, you and Tom became one of the most talked about topics on social media.

[freedomfireflies]

Pillow Talk*

Summary: The one where you and Harry both have insomnia, and decide to spend one very strange night together.

Word Count: 7.2k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, daddy kink, mentions of drugs, angst (w/ happy ending!), not suitable for Ramadan!

“Oh, absolutely not.”

“Come on. Just one time.”

“No. Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Probably. I haven’t slept in 32 hours.”

You huff as you hide yourself behind your door. You don’t even want to see him. Because you don’t want to have this conversation or entertain this idiotic idea. This is what Harry does. He plays games. He tricks and he ruins and if you open this door, you know you’ll regret it. 

“Poppy, please,” he calls, and you hear his forehead land on the wood as though to brace himself. “I’ve tried everything else, okay? It always works with you. I just…I wanted to try. See if it still does.”

You frown. “You realize how wildly inappropriate this is, right? Asking if you can come in just so we can sleep together?”

“Yeah, but that’s all I want to do. Sleep,” he insists again. “Really. I’ll keep my hands to myself and I won’t even talk to you.”

You consider this. Truthfully, you haven’t slept all that well since the breakup, either. And sure, you’ve longed for the nights when the two of you would fall into such an easy, simple, and incredibly effective routine. 

But he broke your heart. And now you’re both paying the price.

“Just one night,” he pleads again. “And if it doesn’t work, I swear I won’t bother you ever again.”

There’s a subtle ache in your chest. Just hearing his voice reminds you of the pain. Of the joy. Of every good moment and every bad one, all wrapped up in the same silky cadence.

You take a deep breath. Perhaps you’re curious, too. Even if you don’t want to be. Because maybe this will work. Maybe you’ll finally be able to rest and get on with your life.

Or maybe it won’t.

But at least if it doesn’t, maybe you can find some closure.

So, with that thought…you open the door. 

He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. Which makes you just a touch happy if you’re being honest with yourself. His usual curls are askew and unkept. The bags under his eyes are dark and his clothes are wildly wrinkled.

And you’re surprised. He’s been up for longer than 32 hours before and handled it much better. You wonder if his age is catching up with him or if there’s something else keeping him awake.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

But you don’t fight with him. He’s not here to fight and you accept his terms as you widen the door and allow him to step inside.

He nods gratefully as he slips into your living room, but his eyes linger on your face. Almost like he doesn’t recognize you, and it makes your insides turn as you shut the door and put a few feet between you.

“What?” you huff.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, you look…different.”

“Okay…?”

“You changed your hair.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. It’s nice.”

You cross your arms. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Another pause, and the silence feels heavy.

“Well…do you wanna…?” you eventually say, and he nods.

“Right, yeah.”

“Okay.”

You turn to lead him to your room and it’s…unsettling how normal it feels. Like an old habit rearing its ugly head once again.

When you get there, his surprise returns. “You changed your room, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Why?”

Your eyes roll as you angrily toss your blankets back. “This is the one room I associated with you the most. And short of moving, I needed something you hadn’t touched or tainted. So I made the room mine again.”

He thinks about this, attention lingering on the new paint on the walls and the new furniture in each corner. “I like it.”

“I don’t care.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“Great. Can you get in the bed please so we can get this over with?”

Obliging, he slips off his shoes and joins you under the duvet. “Never thought I’d hear you say that again.”

“Never thought I’d have to say it.”

“Mm. You changed your mattress.”

“Obviously.”

“And the sheets and blankets, too.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is there anything in here you didn’t change?”

“The carpet. But only because my landlord said I couldn’t.”

“Right.” He’s smiling again. “But you did get a rug.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice.”

“Bite me.”

He laughs now and you want to smack him. “I see you still get grumpy when you’re tired.”

“No, I get grumpy when my asshole of an ex shows up to my apartment at 3 in the morning demanding to be let in so he can sleep in my bed with me like a fucking child,” you argue. And you know you’re being snippy and maybe even rude, but he deserves it. After everything he’s put you through, you deserve to be in charge of your own emotions. 

You turn the lamp off and the dark room grows incredibly quiet. You’re both stiff, unable to relax when you’re this close. You don’t want to touch—not the way you used to. And you don’t want to be close or let your guard down, although you suppose you’ll have to in order to sleep.

And then he says, “I really did try, you know. To find another way to sleep.”

You look up at the ceiling and release a soft exhale. “Okay.”

“Melatonin, light therapy, cut out coffee. Even drank those…sleep mocktail things everyone talks about.” He shifts. “I don’t know, I guess my brain just wouldn’t turn off.”

“Yeah. I know.”

More quiet.

“I haven’t done any since we broke up,” he finally says. Gentle, like he’s afraid to break the silence. 

Your lashes flutter. He doesn’t have to say it for you to know what he means. “Great.”

“Yeah.” Another beat. “I thought it was work, I guess. Maybe the stress or something. I’ve been sleeping fine, but these past couple weeks…”

“Right.”

“And I just figured—”

“No, I got it. It’s fine, let’s just…let’s just try to sleep,” you say and he nods.

The bedroom settles and you try, you really do. But you can’t when he’s breathing so goddamn loud and shifting every two seconds and sighing like he’s in pain.

“What?” you eventually hiss.

“Are you dating someone?” he asks.

“What?”

“Are you dating someone?” he repeats. “Josie said you were.”

You hesitate. “I don’t know. Kind of. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“We’re…we’ve been on a few dates. It’s not official.”

“He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t. I just figure you deserve someone that actually wants to date you.”

“Oh, do I?” You roll your head to look at him. “Funny, you didn’t seem to think so when you were dating me.”

“All right, touché,” he mumbles. “I could have been better, I know that. And I know I took advantage. You did a lot for me and I didn’t…I didn’t care.”

Surprised, you twist your fingers together. “Uh…yeah. Right. Thank you.”

His head rolls, too. And even with the dim-light, his eyes find yours. “I’m sorry, Poppy. You really did deserve better than me. And if you found it with this guy…I’ll be happy for you.”

You swallow before sighing to yourself. “I mean, I don’t know if I did. He’s…he’s really nice. But he’s so…he’s just…”

“Vanilla?”

Your eyes widen. “Yeah. How did you—”

“He was wearing Crocs with tube socks.”

You laugh—loud. “Oh my god, how did you know?”

“I might have looked him up,” he admits through a grin. “Wanted to make sure he was worth your time.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And he wears Crocs with tube socks. He can’t make you cum.”

Your features scrunch together as you gasp and look away. “Ew, Harry. It’s not about that—”

“It’s always about that. Come on, am I wrong?”

“You—yes. What he wears has nothing to do with what he’s like in bed—”

“So he’s not vanilla?”

“He’s…” You pause. “He…look, he really tries—”

“So, he is,” Harry finishes for you. “Well, at least you got some.”

“I…yeah. Uh-huh.”

Instantly, he turns onto his side, head resting in the palm of his hand as he studies you. “He couldn’t get it up, could he?”

“Harry,” you groan, and reach out to swat him. “Stop, it wasn’t that. We just…we were taking things slow. We did some stuff. Just not…all of it.”

“So what he’d do?”

“Harry—”

“Come on, we’re adults, just tell me.”

“Ew, no—”

“Listen, you used to get fucked good. I’m just trying to help you get back to that.”

You frown but do oblige. “I don’t know. He ate me out and I blew him. That’s it.”

“And…?”

“And…I don’t know. He was fine. He was good.”

“Sure.”

Your eyes roll. “Okay, he…he wasn’t really all that into it. He stopped after a few seconds and asked if I came. Then he said his jaw was tired and that maybe we should just switch.”

Now, Harry’s features scrunch, too. “Shit. What a fucking pussy. Ironically.”

“I guess. It could have been worse.”

“Really? Eating you out was always my favorite. What kind of asshole just stops if he doesn’t have to?”

You feel a rush of heat through your body as you look away. “I guess they can’t all be you.”

“Damn fucking right,” he scoffs. “Seriously, you still wanted to see him after that?”

“He’s cute,” you argue. “And nice. And yeah, maybe he’s not that adventurous but that’s okay. I don’t need wild sex all the time.”

He’s quiet. “How about just one time?”

You turn back. “What?”

“I—okay, I was just thinking…you know, one of the things we would do when we couldn’t sleep was…fuck, so—”

“Oh, absolutely not.” You sit up, as though to put some distance between you. “No. Forget it—”

“Poppy—”

“Don’t call me that,” you huff. “You don’t get to call me that ever again. Okay, I’m not gonna fuck you just so we can sleep—”

“It wouldn’t be just for that,” he argues, sitting up as well. “It would also help your mood, too—”

“Oh, my mood?” You glare at him. “My mood is just fine, actually. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty good if I agreed to let you in my apartment in the first place—”

“You didn’t have to. I’m just saying, if sex with him is gonna be bland, might as well get in one last good fuck before you commit to a lifetime of boring—”

“Oh, my god. It’s not a lifetime and you’re a fucking asshole—”

“Yeah. We’ve established that. Doesn’t change the fact that you need it.”

You stare at him. “Is that why you’re really here? To trick me into sleeping with you?”

He leans back. “What? No. I don’t trick people into having sex, it was just a suggestion—”

“Yeah, a pretty dumb one. Did you honestly think I’d say yes?”

“Yeah,” he admits haughtily. “Yeah, because we didn’t break up over the sex. We broke up because you’re an uptight—”

“What? Say it,” you sneer. “Say it. I’m an uptight bitch because I wouldn’t let you do cocaine.”

He scoffs again and looks off into the dark of your room. The argument lulls. “I could never do anything right.”

“That wasn’t the problem and you know it.” You pull your legs to your chest. “I wanted to move forward and you kept going back. You’re almost 30 and you still act like you’re 19.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to get married and do the whole white picket fence life,” he says. “Maybe I liked things the way they were—”

“No. No, you liked parties with your friends and doing drugs that kept you up for hours  and getting fired and leaving me to pay all the bills—”

“You didn’t pay all the bills and I told you I would do what I could to help—”

“Yeah. But apparently that included getting fucked up and staying out all night just to crash the next day.” You study him closely. “You were never around anymore. I never saw you. We were on two different paths and the only time we ever talked was when you asked if I wanted to fuck.”

“So, that’s it, huh? I’m just a villain in your story. You were this perfect fucking princess, and I was a monster that ruined your life?”

“No, obviously not. I wasn’t perfect. I know that.”

“Do you?” His eyes flick between yours. “You didn’t want me to move forward with you. You liked your new job and your new friends because they didn’t remind you of me. Of who we both used to be.”

“So? I’m not proud of what I used to do. And sure, maybe I wanted to make a better impression on the people paying my salary and keeping me employed. Is that such a fucking crime?”

“No. But you didn’t want me to be a part of that impression and you know it.”

“Right. Because you were shit-faced all the time.”

He opens his mouth, ready to retort. But then he closes it. He closes it and he stares at you and then…he surges forward.

Even if you were given at least two seconds to prepare, you’re not prepared for the way his hands feel on your cheeks as he kisses you. As he presses his lips to yours and steals the labored breaths in your lungs.

But you don’t fight him. You know you should. Know you should push him off and berate him. Yet you let him kiss you. And you kiss him back. And it’s far too easy to slip back into this routine as his tongue slides against yours in such a teasing way.

Your stomach flips while your hands land on his lap. You’re desperate to be closer, to feel his body against yours. His skin, and the way it melts beneath your palms like butter. You dance this devious dance and before you know it, you’re stripping each other of the few clothes you have.

He starts with your shirt. Ripping it over your head before his mouth lands on your chest. Bare and beautiful to him. His kisses are wet and sloppy and you arch yourself closer as you drag your fingers down his scalp.

The only reason he stops is to let you peel his t-shirt off, too. And then his jeans and socks. And you move so fluidly, you’re nearly naked in under a minute. The only thing left between you now his underwear and yours.

He lays you down, gentle. Surprisingly gentle, given the anger that brought you here. And he gazes at you in a soft, unspoken way that says everything you don’t exactly know how to say. 

His fingers brush down your cheek as his body settles atop yours. He still fits between your legs like he was always meant to and the weight of him almost feels good.

“Are you all right?” he finally whispers, and he doesn’t sound like the same man from before. He sounds like the man you fell in love with. “Is this okay?”

You nod quickly, scared that if you think about it, you’ll ruin it. “Yeah. Go.”

He doesn’t. “We don’t have to,” he says. “You were right, it’s probably a dumb idea—”

“Yeah, but…it always works.” You shift beneath him and reach for his briefs, rolling them down his hips. “And I’m tired. Tired of fighting with you, tired of not getting any sleep…tired of pretending I hate you. You were right, our sex is good. So let’s do it. And then we can sleep. And we can finally move on.”

Not the most romantic of speeches, but it works. At least right now. He kisses you again and drags your underwear aside in order to tease you with the tip of his cock.

He feels like you remember. And maybe you find just a touch of comfort in that. There are no awkward pauses or confusion about what to do next. You don’t have to find your rhythm or anticipate the next step. You know him. And he knows you.

Your rub your clit in order to stimulate yourself. You aren’t exactly wet enough for this to be enjoyable, but you don’t expect him to do what he did before. The foreplay is up to you now and you’re more than all right with that.

However, he’s not. And he instantly swats your hand away in order to do it himself. Allowing his fingers to drag up and down your pussy until you shiver before he slips the tip of his middle finger inside.

“Shit,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours. “Fucking missed this.”

You bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He starts to pump, bending your body to his salacious intentions until the unmistakable sound of wetness echoes throughout the room. “I know you missed it, too.”

“Hm. Don’t push it.”

“Why not?” He presses a kiss to your cheek. Then to your jaw. Your lips. Your nose. Your neck. Everywhere you used to love. “Are you really gonna tell me you didn’t?” 

“Maybe.”

“So Crocs with Tube Socks is better, huh?”

“…not exactly.”

“Right.” He adds a second finger and your eyes roll back. “Don’t worry, Poppy, I’ll fix it.”

“Don’t…call me that,” you pant again, and he chuckles.

“Don’t know what else to call you. You were always my pretty Poppy.”

“But now I’m not,” you say. “Now you call me nothing. Because I’m not yours to call.”

He sighs but does seem to obey, at least for now. And the faster he thrusts his hand, the needier this growing feeling becomes. Stronger and louder until you finally grab onto his shoulders and say, “Just put it in already.”

He smirks. “How romantic.”

“It’s not supposed to be. Just come on.”

So, he does. He takes hold of his cock and he slips it through the gathering arousal until he can push in. And you both reel.

Truthfully, you’ve missed the sounds he makes when he’s turned on. The way he groans and grits his teeth together. The way the muscles in his arms strain until you can see those beautiful veins you used to love to run your tongue over. 

He’s stunning. Even now, in the soft light of the moon through your curtains. His silhouette is unholy as it hovers above you. Strong hips beginning to thrust as you both work in tandem to find release.

And it’s closer than you expected. There’s something about him that can get you there even without much effort. Something Crocs with Tube Socks could never seem to figure out. 

Because he’s not Harry. And only Harry can play you like an instrument and make such symphonic music all with the flick of his finger and a thrust of his cock.

He kisses you again and you both feel anxious. Soft murmurings of praise and, “Keep going,” that have you arching from the bed and moaning into his mouth.

You’re sweating and gasping for air and clutching onto his back as you attempt to meet his rhythm with rolls of your own. You need this. You need to cum so you can find release and you need to cum so you can finally sleep and you need to cum because then you’ll finally be able to let him go. To close the door on the chapter of you and Harry and move the fuck on.

But how can you move on when you’re still under him? How can you insist that you’re fine and doing great if you’re so easily convinced to fuck him just so you can both get some sleep?

There are other remedies to insomnia that don’t involve his cock and maybe you should have tried that before you let him into your apartment. 

Either way, you’re coming before you can think twice about it. Raking your nails down his back and whimpering his name as he pulls out and finishes on your thigh. 

And just like that…

It’s over.

You find him in the kitchen about an hour later. You managed to sleep at least a few minutes before you felt the sadistic hand of insomnia pull you back out. But when you woke, Harry was gone. His clothes were still on the floor, so you knew he hadn’t left. But he wasn’t with you.

He’s staring out your kitchen window when you slip into the living room. You’re not sure if he hears you or not but if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he keeps himself braced against the sink, clad in nothing more than his briefs.

Curious, you call, “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. Silent. Contemplative. “I used to love this window,” he eventually says. Soft, like he’s reminiscing. “The way the light looked in the morning. The way your little crystals would put rainbows on the wall and you’d get so excited. How you’d make me dance with you to some Elton John song while we were literally in the middle of cooking.”

You blink. “Um…okay.”

He turns and his eyes find yours. “I fucking loved this apartment. And this kitchen. And that couch. And your room. And even the hallway. I loved being here, all the time. I hated going back to my place because it never felt the same.”

The silence grows louder now as you look down at your feet and pull your robe just a bit tighter. “I know,” you finally whisper. “That’s why I changed it.”

“I know,” he whispers back. His expression falls. “You changed everything. This apartment, your life…us.”

“Because I had to,” you argue, glancing back up. “I had to, Harry. I couldn’t keep going in circles. I couldn’t drag you along behind me into the future when you clearly wanted to be anywhere else.” 

“Because the future you always painted didn’t seem to have room for me,” he huffs. “Okay, with all these dinner parties and fancy houses and good school districts. You’d planned out the next 30 years and I didn’t see myself anywhere in your picture.”

“I didn’t fucking care about the parties or the school districts,” you nearly yell. “God, I—I didn’t want the white picket fence life. I didn’t want the 1950’s American Dream shit you keep thinking I did. I just wanted you. Yes, I wanted a good job with insurance and stability. But I wasn’t gonna trade what we had just for that—”

“But you did. You didn’t tell your parents we’d moved in together. You didn’t even tell half of our friends. You went on trips without me and you stopped telling me about your day and we never talked—”

“Because you were never around! You were either out with your friends getting drunk or high or you were in there playing video games because you’d had a ‘hard day.’ So, no. I didn’t want to talk to you when I knew you weren’t even listening in the first place.”

 He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. Angry. Indignant. “You resented me. You resented the fact that we were together and you resented that I wasn’t perfect like your precious new friends—”

“Oh, that’s—” You pinch the bridge of your nose and force in a deep breath. “No. I didn’t want you to be like them. I didn’t want you to act pretentious and stuffy and talk about the stock market every goddamn second of the day. The only thing I resented…was the fact that you wouldn’t take care of yourself.”

“I was taking care of myself—”

“Bullshit. You were doing drugs—you were doing cocaine—and you weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping, you nearly drunk yourself to death—”

“Right, but I wasn’t doing it all the time. It was just…it was occasionally, and it wasn’t a lot—”

“I don’t care. You shouldn’t have been doing it at all, Harry,” you finally shout. “You…you scared the shit out of me. Every time one of your friends would call and say you were passed out, I thought…I thought this was it. I thought I was gonna lose you. Do you know how many times I just sat on the floor and cried because I was so scared? Because you never wanted to listen when I told you to stop? Because you were so sure you were invincible?”

He seems pained by this, features wilting as he takes a tentative step forward. But he stops when you move back. “Poppy, I wasn’t trying to scare you, I…I didn’t know—”

“Yes, you did,” you scoff. “I told you, over and over that I didn’t want to lose you, but you thought I was being dramatic.”

He nods once. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I am.” He looks at you. “S’why I stopped after we broke up. You were right, I needed to get my shit together.”

You nod, too. “Good. I’m glad.”

His gaze dances around the kitchen. “I hate that you changed everything,” he says again, and your heart wrenches. “I hate that it doesn’t look like it used to. I hate that I hurt you so bad that you felt like you had to erase everything I ever touched.”

You step closer and wipe a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, I hate it, too. I hate that I had to. I hate that stupid mattress and I hate that my kitchen doesn’t look like a rainbow anymore and I really fucking hate that I have no one to dance with when I cook.”

His eyes soften as they find yours and in only a few seconds, he’s reaching for the belt on your robe and tugging you to him. Wrapping you in his arms as he presses you against his chest, the way he always used to when you were sad.

“No,” you argue weakly, although you do nothing to stop him. “No, you can’t…you can’t—”

“Yes, I can,” he retorts quietly. You feel his lips press to the top of your head. “You don’t get to cry over me anymore. You’re better than that now. You did what I couldn’t. You moved on. And I don’t get to ruin that for you.”

You sniffle as you run your hand down his stomach. “It wasn’t about moving on. I just needed to learn how to be strong enough for both of us.”

“Poppy,” he breathes and holds you tighter. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

And deep down…you know he’s right.

“Shit, just like that…a little closer. Good girl, hold yourself open for me, baby. Yeah.”

Doing your best to oblige, you slip your fingers between your folds as Harry nudges his nose closer. Kissing his way along your thighs before allowing his tongue to lick a very generous stripe up your pussy.

Round 2 is on the couch. Harry wanted the kitchen counter—nearly insisted on it, in fact—but you knew you didn’t want to ruin your favorite breakfast spot. And you weren’t about to just for him.

So, the couch it was. He complained about it as you got settled. He hates this new couch, too. The color, the lumpy cushions, the way it feels like you’re sinking when you sit. 

You told him you didn’t care. You loved it and if it annoyed him, that was a bonus.

Thankfully, he swallowed his complaints in favor of swallowing you. He tossed your robe open and pulled your thighs apart. And then he buried himself between the warmth of your pussy the way he always used to.

And you decided that maybe you don’t mind insomnia so much if this is the remedy.

“Missed this, too,” he says now as he nips at your clit. “God, you’ve always tasted so fucking good. S’fucking crazy, baby. Can’t ever get enough.”

“Sure,” you snort, head dropping back. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls—”

“No.” He shakes his head and his nose nudges the sensitive nerves as you whine. “No, there’s no other girls. Come on, did you really think there could be?”

“With a mouth like that? Yeah,” you admit. He laughs. “That’s how we met. You were such—fuck—such a player.”

“Maybe,” he concedes before mouthing at you again. “But nobody else has ever made me feel the way you do.”

You snort. “Where’d you learn that line?”

“It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”

“Harry. Come on. I know you.”

“Then you should know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He smooths his palms down your thighs in order to spread you just a bit further and see the way your hole flutters. “Oh, pretty girl. S’just drenched, hm? All sensitive from the last one…need Daddy to make it better?”

You scrunch your nose. “You don’t get to call yourself that anymore.”

“No?” He grins. “Why not?”

“Because I hate you and Daddy is reserved for someone I like.”

He tsks. “I don’t know, kind of seems like you still like it. Keep clenching around my tongue like you wanna hear me say it again.”

You hesitate as you weave your fingers through his curls. “Never.”

He hums and the vibration against your cunt makes your thighs twitch. “Come on, baby. Don’t be mean to Daddy.”

You want to glare. Slap at him, refuse him. But he’s right—you have missed the moniker. If only just because of how good he sounds when he says it. So, you let him tease you and taunt you as he tastes you. You let him do whatever the hell he wants because your second orgasm feels stronger than the first and you don’t imagine you’ll survive this one. 

He slips a finger in as well. Beckons your pleasure closer with every curl of the large digit. It’s practiced. He sucks and licks and nips and thrusts and curls and pumps all at the same time.

Then, he pulls back and brings his palm down in a sharp smack to your pussy. 

“Stop squirming,” he instructs, then shoots you an obviously pleased frown. “Don’t be a brat.”

“M’not,” you whimper. “Not a brat…just wanna cum.”

“Do you, hm?” He licks you again then adds two fingers. “Should I let you?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously?” He’s smirking now as he starts to go faster. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do deserve it. Yeah? After being so nice as to let me in.”

You pout. “Mhm.”

He’s so happy. He’s always his happiest when he’s suffocating himself with your pussy. He does everything he knows you love. He leaves teasing kisses to the inside of your thighs. He slaps at your leg, your clit, your hip. He helps rock you against his tongue and even lifts you from the couch to find a deeper angle. 

And he does all of this out of sheer enjoyment. 

“Harry,” you whimper as you melt into the cushions. Your limbs feel like jello. The pleasure is everywhere, and he looks like a god. His face is covered in you, glistening about as bright as the stars.

“I know, Poppy,” he says. He kisses your pussy and then smiles at you. “I know.”

You like the way Harry’s chest feels. Warm and soft and painted in the tattoos you used to trace with your finger.

He’s gently scratching your back as you both lay in bed. The room is quiet—you haven’t spoken in minutes. Still, neither of you can seem to find sleep and you know you’ll desperately need it soon. 

But this is nice. Even if it is the last time. You like getting to reminisce—pretend for even a moment that things are the way they used to be. When you were happy and safe and content to be together.

You weren’t sure you’d ever feel this kind of peace again.

“I missed you, too, you know,” he whispers after a moment.

You glance up. 

“I didn’t just miss your apartment. I missed you.” He takes a breath and runs his palm along your spine. “I miss our Sunday mornings and I miss when we’d watch scary movies just so we could make out and I miss the way you used to dance around in your underwear to some stupid musical you were obsessed with.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “Har…”

“And I don’t know what happened,” he says. “I felt like…I felt like I was watching you do all these amazing things and I just couldn’t keep up. You were getting promoted and moving up and I was still at the fucking bar serving drinks. And you knew what you wanted to do. I didn’t.”

“I didn’t know,” you argue gently. “Not really. I hate my job. I hate that I don’t enjoy it the way I used to. I mean, I like that it pays the bills, but maybe that shouldn’t be enough.”

He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “You should do what makes you happy.”

“You used to make me happy.”

The soft strokes against your spine slow. 

“You did, Har,” you tell him. “So happy. That’s why I hated that we started fighting all of the time. I hated that you were gone or that I was gone or the fact that I was too ashamed to tell you that I missed you. And that I was scared we were losing each other.”

“Maybe we needed to lose each other,” he says and you feel sick. “Maybe we needed to be apart to see what we really wanted.”

You think about this. The idea sounds nice. Inviting. A happy end to a rather dreadful story.

But you both know better. Five months has taught you better.

“There’s a reason we broke up,” you finally murmur. “We didn’t…we didn’t like each other anymore. We were holding each other back—”

“I liked you,” he says softly. “I loved you. Yeah, I was mad, but I didn’t just stop loving you.” 

“Maybe you should have. Maybe it would have been easier for us and we wouldn’t be…here.”

More silence. It stretches for what feels like hours.

And then, “I can’t sleep because of you.”

You suck in a quiet breath. “What?”

“When Josie told me that you were seeing someone, I couldn’t…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And she showed me a picture she took of you guys and you were so happy. Smiling at him like you used to smile at me and I just…I didn’t know what to do.”

Another pause. You don’t know what to say.

“I put my fist through a wall,” he tells you. “And somehow, that still didn’t hurt as much as knowing you’d moved on.”

You snake your arm around his middle and snuggle closer. “Harry, you knew we both had to move on eventually.”

“Did we?”

“Harry…”

“But so soon? It’s only been five months.”

“Yeah. Five months to grieve you and cry over you and realize I did this for you.” You close your eyes. Tight. “We’re better people now.”

“No, we’re tired people now,” he teases, and you smile. “And I think I’ll be losing sleep over you for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I mean it. I’m always gonna think about you. Think about what I did wrong. What I could have done better.”

“I fucked up, too,” you argue. “I should have told my parents. And our friends. I should have talked to you more, asked you to do more things together. You’re right, I was ashamed of you. Of this…routine we’d fallen into. And I’m sorry.”

He says nothing. After all, there’s nothing more to say.

But he kisses the crown of your head and it speaks louder than any words.

“Fuck…fuck, Poppy, please—”

You grin as you lick your lips. He’s always sounded the most beautiful when he’s begging. And his best begging always tends to happen when his cock is down your throat. 

“What, Daddy?” you ask innocently. “What do you need me to do?”

His eyes roll back and he grips the sheets in his fist. “Please…”

You reposition yourself over his legs as you dip back down to have another taste. You lick and you suck and you stroke until he’s making another strained noise that sounds like sex.

You hope your neighbors can hear. You bet they missed him.

“Good boy,” you purr, squeezing his thighs as you take him even further. 

He sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth before his hand finds your hair and he squeezes. “Easy…easy, baby. S’been a while. Don’t hurt yourself—”

You respond to his instruction by inhaling through your nose and relaxing the muscles in your throat. Allowing him to hit the back the way he always used to.

His head drops into the pillows. “Shit—Poppy, I mean it. M’not gonna fuck your throat. It’s gonna hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”

It’s an oddly thoughtful gesture but it does nothing for you now. Instead, you shake your head and pull off, a string of saliva dripping down his cock in your wake. “I’m fine, H. Trust me, I can take it.”

“Yeah?” He pushes up onto his elbows. “Is Crocs with Tube Socks hung or something?”

You grin. “No. But that dildo you got me last year is.”

He blinks. “You…fucking hell, you fuck your throat with that?”

“Mhm.” You swirl your tongue around his tip as he curses. “And then I fuck myself. And I pretend it’s you.”

He tightens his hold on your hair and forces your eyes back to his. “Are you serious?”

You nod, now feeling a touch shy as you wipe your mouth with your knuckles. “Yeah…I know that’s…probably weird, but…I mean, you got it for me, so I thought I’d be weirder to think about someone else—”

“No, it’s…” He stops. Struggles. “Shit, I really needed to hear that.”

“Oh, you did, huh?” 

“Yeah. I wouldn’t want you to think about anyone else when you used it, either. It’s got my fucking initials on it.”

You laugh, louder than you mean to and it makes him grin. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? It was a pretty good gift, I’ll admit.”

“S’a fucking perfect gift,” he retorts. “We had a lot of fun with that dildo.”

“We did indeed.”

“But apparently not as much fun as you’re having with it.”

“Fucking myself helps me sleep,” you remind him. “So sometimes it’s necessity.”

“Is that right?” 

“Mhm.” You squeeze the base and he twitches. “You used to watch me. Remember?”

“I do.” His eyes get darker. “Do you fuck yourself a lot?”

“…these days, yeah. Apparently, I can’t sleep all that well, either.”

“And does it work?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” You turn your attention back to his cock in order to avoid his curiosity before you quietly admit, “Sometimes I pretend you’re here. Sleeping next to me. And…that helps, too.”

He reaches for your wrist and pulls your attention back. “Poppy—”

“No, don’t look at me like that, it’s dumb—”

“I imagine you, too.”

You blink. “You do?”

“Every night. Except the past couple weeks. Cause now I just think about you and him. And then I can’t fucking sleep.”

You turn your hand so your fingers brush through his. “Shit. We’re a mess.”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

The conversation falls away as you dip back down to resume your work. Squeezing his balls, moaning as you take him on your tongue, and milking him for every last drop. 

Turns out, you missed the taste of him, too.

Morning comes before either of you find a moment of rest. But you can feel yourself growing tired. Your eyelids are beginning to droop, and your body feels incredibly spent. 

Turns out, round 4 is where the magic happened. He brought out your favorite vibrator and teased your poor, swollen clit with it until you squirted. It was easy and quick and he seemed rather delighted to be bathed in you.

Until, of course, you insist on an actual bath to clean you both.

The shower felt good. The warm water washing away the sticky sweat on your skin. And the two of you fell back into a similar routine. He ran the soap down your arms and you washed his curls with your favorite shampoo. A shampoo he claimed he looked everywhere for after you broke up but could never find.

He said he missed the smell. The way it made his hair so soft. And the way it would make his pillowcase smell just like you.

You were grateful that the shower hid your tears.

You both crashed on the couch after you had dried off. The sheets still needed to be cleaned and neither of you could be bothered. But, as it turned out, the couch was growing on him. And he begrudgingly admitted it was rather comfy as the two of you curled up in your usual spot. 

You know you’re both close to sleep. Finally, after all your efforts to get here. But you also know that once you wake up, Harry will leave. 

And there’s a chance you won’t see him again.

You know that nothing has changed. The two of you still want different things, even if you want each other. And you hate that that’s not enough. That what you want and what you should want don’t align.

Instead, he’ll move on with his life and you’ll move on with yours.

But you don’t want to learn how to fall asleep without him.

“Make me a deal,” you whisper.

He hums. Lashes shut tight as the morning light slips in through the window. “What?”

“If I wake up, and you’re still here…we do this again. Not…as a couple. But as two broken humans that find rest with each other.”

His eyes open.

“But if you’re gone,” you continue, “then we don’t. We don’t do it again, we don’t see each other again, we don’t reach out again. We cut ties. Officially. Block and move on. For real.”

He seems saddened by this, and you hate that you’ve made him sad. But you both know it’s for the best. This won’t be sustainable in the long run. And maybe it’s a bad idea to continue at all, but maybe you want to hold on to him anyway. At least for a little while.

Even if it’s just as friends.

Exes.

Two broken humans that used to make each other whole.

His lips press together and he nods once. “Deal,” he agrees, and you can tell by the look on his face, he’s already made a decision.

You aren’t sure which way, but you suppose you’ll find out soon enough. So, you allow your eyes to fall shut and your dreams to take hold. Melting into his arms and into the sofa as you finally find sleep quicker than you have in months.

You’re not sure how long you’re out. It feels like hours. A heavy slumber that leaves you rather refreshed as your eyes eventually flutter open. 

You don’t see Harry as you slowly adjust to your surroundings. And you don’t feel him, either. But you’re too afraid to really look. To sit up and realize that he’s gone. For good.

And then, just when you think you’ve lost him…you hear the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Good morning, Poppy.”

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry

[crvptidgf]

Read For Me

Mattheo Riddle x Reader (smut)

➸ summary: Mattheo finds the perfect way to help the reader relax after a tough day

➸ warnings/notes: sexual content ahead! 18+ ONLY, viewer discretion is advised. TAGS: fingering, slight praise kink, heavy petting, ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

➸ requested?: yes ↴

- soft smut where she’s reading in his lap while he’s leaning against the bedpost holding the book and turning the pages while she keeps reading it

word count: 1.1k

————————

YOU HAD BEEN quite stressed the whole day. Nothing seemed to go your way, and when you finally finished your lectures for the day, all you wanted to do was just curl up with your boyfriend on the bed.

That’s where you were currently.

Your back was pressed against his chest as he held up the book you were reading with one hand. The other one was rested against your abdomen as you read aloud, turning the page whenever it was needed.

At some point your eyes drifted away from the book and was instead focused on the way Mattheo’s arms looked under this lighting.

His veins were incredibly pronounced, thanks to the table lamp causing shadows to occur all over his skin. The way his arms flexed when he gripped the book just a little tighter made your stomach flutter, and you tried to ignore his beautiful fingers toying with your stomach.

You looked away, not even noticing that Mattheo had went silent, the book almost completely left off to the side.

“You okay?” he muttered into you ear.

Everything he did was setting your stomach ablaze right now. It didn’t help that his fingers flexed against your tummy as he drew shapes alongside the flesh.

“Mhm,” you said as you nodded, hoping he just ignored you and picked the book back up. You were seriously trying your hardest to not pay attention to how good his arms looked laying at his sides - or in general, really.

Mattheo bit back a smile as he noticed your eyes briefly flicker to his hand that was resting against you. He definitely did not miss the slight movements in your eyes, paying attention to the way your mouth seemed to dry up with every gulp you took.

“Are we still stressed?” he asked, already knowing that’s not what the problem was.

You just nodded. Honestly, you weren’t too sure what he really said. Your eyes were too focused on the way his fingers felt as if they were moving lower down onto your abdomen, slowly reaching the waistband of your shorts. He merely toyed with the elastic, his fingertips never reaching further than your pelvis.

Vibrations rumbled against your back as he chuckled. “Well we can’t have that now, can we?”

Mattheo moved his hand away from your lower half in order to wrap around your waist tightly, holding you close. His other one picked the book back up, lifting it towards your face.

You had no idea what he was doing, and you had no intention of finding out - your mind was still fuzzy from the immense heat that was pooling between your legs from your boyfriend’s previous actions.

“Keep reading,” came his voice suddenly.

He noticed the curious look in your eyes as he strained his neck to face you. “You’re stressed. Reading helps you relax, no?”

“Yeah…?” you were still confused.

Mattheo loosened his grip on your torso to resume messing around with your waistband.

“Read for me,” he mumbled against your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You watched as the muscles in his forearm contracted while he kept the book at your eye level. Starting from the top of the page you began to read out loud, trying to stop your voice from cracking whenever Mattheo’s fingers trailed lower than expected. Every single movement caused goosebumps to form all over - your arms, legs, stomach. Your body was buzzing with excitement.

Continuing your pace, you kept reading out the words on the page no matter how uneven your breathing became. You knew better than to ignore Mattheo’s commands.

“You’re doing great, keep going,” whispered Mattheo.

Just as you were about to continue, you were interrupted by your own gasp as his hand made it’s way into your shorts. The only problem was that he didn’t move it - not one bit. He rested it on top of you, cupping your heat.

The veins in his hand twitched as he gently shook the book. “You stop, I stop.”

You let out a strangled groan before starting again.

“They attacked hi- him in various ways….” you quoted before taking a deep breath upon feeling the friction against your panties, Mattheo’s palm giving you just the pressure you needed.

“With...- with barefaced questions-“ you briefly stopped reading only to whimper his name.

His hand carefully pulled your underwear to the side, fingers teasing at your entrance. He moved them up to part your lips, gathering your arousal before he suddenly dipped into you, earning a breathy moan from the back of your throat.

Fingers gently, slowly, curling, he began to nip at your neck before he spoke up. “I thought I told you to keep reading?” he said.

“S-sorry.”

You felt him all around you. His gorgeous arm that was looped around your chest, holding your book up; his mouth which left wet open-mouthed kisses across your shoulder and neck, lightly sucking and biting whenever he could. And, oh, his skilled fingers which were now moving in and out of you at a dreadfully slow pace.

Your stomach felt as if it was twisted in knots, but you kept reading nonetheless, to which Mattheo begun praising. “So good for me,” he whispered.

His thumb now entered the mix, begin to rub lazy circles on your clit.

Reveling in how shaky your voice sounded, he urged you to increase up your volume. He wanted to hear you fall apart - and what better way to do that then have you read louder for him?

“Be a good girl and speak up. I can’t hear you,” he had said.

Your head was now thrown back onto his shoulder, the coil in your stomach building up very fast. You could still somewhat make out the words on the page, but your vision had began to blur, and your moans were becoming too frequent for you to be able to continue.

“Please, Mattheo, I can’t,” you whined.

Tears brimmed at the edge of your eyes, your cheeks flushing with the heat of the room. Mattheo nudged his shoulder upwards so that you were supporting your own head once more. Your eyes landed on the book again. “Yes you can,” he encouraged.

His lips landed on your cheek, peppering soft pecks wherever his mouth landed.

It wasn’t much longer before you erupted into a series of tremors, your voice chanting his name as he helped you ride out your high. In all honesty, you were going to have to read that chapter again - you weren’t sure if you retained any information.

Mattheo rested the book on your nightstand, both of his arms now hugging you close to his chest. His chin nestled into your shoulder. “How do you feel now?”

You smilled up at him, craning your neck to meet his eyes. “Much better, baby.”

“Good,” he said, kissing your forehead.

Leave it to Mattheo to de-stress you on your worst days.

- - -

A/N: this was my first time doing smut i’m so sorry

[mirohlayo]

Could you do something about the drivers' new girlfriend who is obsessed with the reader? Who is the driver's ex-girlfriend? and eventually the driver's and reader end up together again. (a little inspired by Obsessed by Olivia Rodrigo

Hello !! I really struggle to choose between the drivers but I ended up choosing Lando (it's no longer surprising). Hope this suits your request, enjoy ! ᥫ᭡

OBSESSED

( when your ex' new girlfriend become obsessed with you, you know you have win everything. )

warning : angst, fluff, some toxic behavior, like two innuendos

note : sorry to all the Maddie it's just the first name that came up on my mind 🫰

word count : 1.9k

You're sure this whole thing has been going on for a few weeks now. And you don't know when it's going to end. It's been several weeks since your relationship with your ex-boyfriend Lando ended. And he's had a new girlfriend for several weeks now.

Sitting in front of a table on a terrace, near the Mclaren building in the paddock, you can't help but stare at your ex and the brunette girl in his arms, walking hand in hand along the path. Her long hair styled in a magnificent bun, her model figure, her confident walk.

You can't help but imagine yourself in his place. Because after all, a few weeks ago, it was you in this place. It was you who walked alongside Lando, who came to support him on all his races, who was proudly in love with him. And his new girlfriend simply replaced you. Because she is also the reason for your breakup.

Everything was perfect in your relationship. You were madly in love with each other and incredibly happy. He gave you the world and in return you gave him everything he couldn't have dreamed of. You were simply soulmates, made for each other. Until this brunette comes and ruins everything.

You knew she was friends with Lando. However, it was absolutely no problem for you. She's not the first girl he's had as friends and you can't deny the fact that you have a few guy friends as well. You trusted each other with your eyes closed so there was nothing to worry about her.

But when she started to interfere in your life, your personal relationship, when she started to get closer to Lando at a maddening speed and when she stole his precious time so that you remained the one who finally spent less time with him, you knew there was a big problem.

And that this problem is indeed her.

It's as if the roles had been reversed, and in the end you gradually became a simple friend, while she in turn became his new girlfriend. You couldn't take it anymore, even though Lando tried to reassure you about her and her actions.

He himself didn't want her.

But it was so suffocating that you finally put an end to it. You knew that at the time of your separation, when you said those words to him that broke his heart into a million pieces, you still had powerful feelings for each other, but love isn't everything.

And here you are now in this situation. You being his ex, staring at him and his new girlfriend when you just came to support the Mclaren driver. Lando has publicly announced that you have remained on good terms and are good friends, which is why you sometimes come to the races. But the reality is there: you don't even look at each other once.

Because if Lando does, he knows he won't be able to let you go. And if you do, you won't be able to hold back either.

“Huh, what is she doing here again?” Maddie, the driver's new girlfriend, mocks your presence as her vicious gaze glares at you. "Hmm ?" Lando frowns, curious. He tries to follow Maddie's gaze, and his eyes end up landing on the woman he deep down still hopes will always be his.

“I already told you to forbid her from coming to the races.” She adds. The driver rolls his eyes and sighs, not taking his gaze away from you. It seems that you are strangely attracted to your phone. "I know, but... we're still friends, she has every right to com-" "Friends? You don't even talk to each other, and it's even she who decided to break up with you."

Lando clenches his fist and his jaw. “And because of whom do you think?” He looks at her coldly, while Maddie can feel a deep fury just by looking at his eyes. She was about to retaliate when suddenly Lando fans came to surround you. "Y/N!! I love you, can I take a picture with you?"

You slowly raise your head, surprised to see three young girls smiling pleasantly at you, waiting for a response from you. You finally realize the situation, and you show them your biggest sincere smile. It warms your heart, knowing that despite the hate you received after breaking up, there are still people there to support you.

Of course, they may be fans of your ex, but the fact remains that they are all simply adorable, and you can't help but be grateful to them, because after all these people support the boy that you love so much.

“Thank you so much, sweethearts” You can't help but giggle and even chat a little with these girls. But while you're enjoying this intimate moment, you obviously can't notice Maddie's dark and unhealthy gaze on you. She kills you with her gaze, while jealousy takes over her entire being.

For what ? Why can't she be like you? Why can't she be you? What does Lando like about you? What can she do to be like you? She would lose her mind. She scrutinizes each of your actions. She records each of your actions and gestures in order to copy them with the exact same precision.

It's toxic but she can't help it, for her it's vital and essential. She is obsessed with you, with everything you do, with your whole person. You're her current boyfriend's ex, and she knows how much he's still in love with you, so she's trying any way she can to be like you. She just wants to be better than you. But she can't.

And you know she can't. Just look at the way Lando looks at you, eyes full of love and admiration, as you listen attentively to the fans in front of you. Lando himself knows, no girl will be like you.

-

"No but seriously, she's doing it again!! Is this the how manyth time this week?" Your best friend is almost going to tear her hair out. Maddie's latest Instagram post has the exact same types of photos you posted last week, and her stories are identical to yours. You sigh, running your hands over your face. “Look, maybe she didn’t do it on purpose, it’s probably a coincidence.” You try to convince yourself.

"A coincidence? You still manage to defend your ex's new girlfriend while she does everything to discredit you!" Your best friend looks completely hopeless as she plops down on the couch in your hotel room. “Don’t tell me otherwise, Y/n. She’s wearing the exact same outfit as you in her post.”

“Maybe we just have the same taste in clothes, we don’t know.” Your best friend looks at you with empathy. She gets up from the couch and places her hands on your shoulders, caressing them gently. "Look Y/n, I know you're way too nice to be mad at anyone. But this girl is so obsessed with you, it's super toxic and unhealthy."

You can't deny your friend's words. In recent weeks, she has only copied you and used the same expressions and facial expressions as you. She only hints at you. Why is she so obsessed with you when you don't care about her?

It eats you from the inside. You've been thinking about it lately and it's almost sickening. Your best friend seems to have noticed it too. "I know what you need. I'm going to buy your favorite snacks and we're going to have a relaxing evening together tonight, okay?".

She does not wait for your approval since you already know you have no choice. And without another word, she rushes out of the hotel to go buy your favorite snacks. “What a life…”, you sigh before opening your phone again, coming face to face with Maddie’s latest insta post.

As you were about to open the comment section, you heard voices raised. As if two people were arguing with each other. You remain paralyzed for a moment, before finally continuing what you were starting to do. But as soon as you go back to your phone, the voices continue to shout and be heard louder and louder.

Panic rises within you. Maybe there is a real problem after all? You approach the door of your room to try to hear better, but without being aware of it you end up opening it, opening onto the long empty corridor upstairs.

Listening carefully, you know that the voices are coming from the room directly across from yours. But you also, and unfortunately, recognize Lando's voice. You can recognize it among thousands of voices, and you are sure that the male voice is him.

A higher pitched, more feminine voice mixes with the driver's voice. Without realizing it, you are now standing a few centimeters from their hotel room, facing the door. But you can hear perfectly what they say to each other. Despite their voices muffled by the walls, you manage to make out a few sentences.

“I mean, why are you so obsessed with her?” Lando shouts even louder. He's really fed up. "I'm not obsessed with her Lando!!" "Oh, so why are you trying to copy everything she does? Why do I always see you stalking her social media, location and contacts?" He continues to rise.

This last sentence makes her speechless. “She broke up with you, so I’m looking at her social media to find out why” Lando lets out a mocking laugh. Did he hear correctly? "Because you still haven't understood that it's because of you that she broke up with me? It's all your fault but you continue to play blind!!".

Lando's furious voice brings silence to their hotel room. It seems Maddie has stopped screaming. "I should never have accepted this PR stunt. I would have received hate but at least I could have been with Y/n right now, with the woman I truly love with all my heart and not a girl who is hopelessly obsessed with a woman much better than her.”

Several minutes of silence follow, but the din of your heartbeat seems to echo throughout the hallway. They were arguing about you. The reason for their argument is you. And Lando talked about you. He confessed information you didn't even know. That you didn't know.

He still loves you, and the whole damn new girlfriend thing is really just a PR stunt. So, everything is clear now.

You gradually regain consciousness, but the bedroom door suddenly flies open, Lando stands in front of you looking completely furious. But when his gaze falls on you, his body language shows that he is already relaxing a little more.

“Oh, Y-Y/n…” You lower your head, ashamed that he surprised you like this. He's not sure what to say as an awkward silence settles. “Did you…hear what we said?” You clear your throat, avoiding his gaze. "You were screaming so...yes. I heard everything." “Oh, okay…”

He scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed and very uncomfortable. “Maybe we should talk then” He suddenly offers and you lift your head to nod. "Yes, that would be better. In my hotel room if you want."

You both go back to your room, and Lando sits directly on the couch, while you join him by sitting a little further away, leaving a reasonable distance between you.

“I meant it. I meant every word I said, Y/n.” You nod to encourage him to continue. "Of course I think Maddie is completely obsessed with you and you must have realized that." He plays with his fingers nervously as he lowers his head. "But I also meant the fact that I still love you. So much. I'm still so in love with you that it hurts me to know that I can't wake up next to you anymore. I still want you so bad and I need you in my life. I know that our story doesn't have the right to end now and that it won't end until we're old and in love."

You wipe away a tear that had just formed in the corner of your eye as you take Lando's hands in yours. You can't suppress a small laugh - or rather a sob - as you smile lovingly at him. “Fucking PR stunt, huh?” He smiles shyly, his eyes watering from the tears that threaten to fall down his face.

“Yeah, fucking PR stunt and fucking crazy girl” He answers and you end up laughing softly. Your hands came up to cup his face as you moved closer to him, your hearts almost touching. "I still love you so much Lando. And I need you too. I'm sorry I broke up with you. I must have broken your heart and-"

"Don't apologize when it's not your fault, sweetheart. I should have cut ties with her a long time ago." He places a small but sweet kiss on your forehead. “I have the best girlfriend again and I have absolutely no plans to part with her.” You smile tenderly as you roll on top of him. “Good, because me neither.”

You kiss him gently on his lips, while he puts his arm around your waist and brings your head closer with his hand to deepen the kiss. He can't stop kissing your soft lips, because he missed it so much, he can't resist.

He slowly pulls away so he can just get a clear view of your face, while resting his nose on yours. “In the end I think I’m the one who’s completely obsessed with you baby.” You giggle, stealing a little kiss from him. “No need to tell me, I already knew that. A certain fake account of yours on Instagram was only watching my stories”.

He blushed violently at your words. "Fuck. Am I really a bad stalker?" “Well, not as bad as Maddie.” He bursts out laughing and tightens his embrace around you. “Good to know I'm better than that girl” He ends up diving back in for another kiss, this time more intense and more passionate.

He moans weakly as he lets himself into the kiss. Suddenly, the bedroom door bursts open to reveal your best friend. You both look at her, surprised. But to your relief, she rolls her eyes in a mocking grin and half-closes the door, before adding, "I think I'm finally going to cancel the netflix and chill and leave you to a romantic sex night."

You throw a cushion from the couch at her, but she manages to dodge. “Fuck you!” You shout at her as she continues to make fun of you. “You should say that to me, right?” Your boyfriend gives you a mischievous grin full of innuendo. You gently hit him on the chest as your best friend finally leaves, closing the door.

“Tomorrow, she is dead” You add, already thinking about what revenge you are going to prepare for her. “I think you're the one who will be dead after what I'll do to you tonight” Lando continues to add in order to tease you and despite your annoyance, you can’t help but giggle shyly. “But first, I want to cuddle you” You tell him before pecking his lips.

“I don’t ask for anything more” He ends up confessing before kissing you again, not being able to hold back the smile that forms on his lips.

After all, maybe it's true. Lando is ultimately the most obsessed with you. But as long as it's him, you know it'll never be a problem for you.

[gimmeurtmi]

not yet — bang chan

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, dom/sub dynamics, smut!🔞

warnings: swearing, dom/sub dynamics, reader wears makeup, guided masturbation, fingering (self receiving), slight restraints, use of “baby”, “pretty,”, edging, undisclosed protection but please use it!!, descriptions of subspace, aftercare <3

inspo: commissioned by @staysinbloom thank you so much lovie and i hope you enjoy this!!! <3333

notes: as always feedback and reblogs are appreciated <3

{ wc: 3204 }

“Are you ready yet?” Chan poked his head into your room, a small smile on his face.

He was taking you out for dinner at your favourite restaurant, to celebrate your new promotion at work. You’ve been waiting for it for weeks, considering Chan was on the road when the news about your promotion came, and now the day was finally here. You took an extra long shower, exfoliating and putting on a hair mask and making yourself feel as good as possible in your skin. You knew Chan wouldn’t mind it either way, he kept saying you didn’t need to go above and beyond for him, that he liked being with you even when you were too tired to brush your hair, but he also knew you enjoyed your self care routine a lot–and so he gave you adequate time to get ready without rushing.

You still had an hour until Chan wanted to leave, you realised when you checked your phone, so you knew his question was more because he wanted attention rather than you falling behind on time.

“Not yet, I still need to do my eyeshadow,” you let him know. Chan hummed, entering the room and sitting on the bed behind your vanity.

“Can I watch?” He asked excitedly. You giggled, nodding as you got back to the task at hand–Chan’s curious eyes following your every move.

He happily watched, letting out impressed noises as he watched your makeup progress and take form, but otherwise there was relative silence in your room. You enjoyed it when you and Chan fell into a comfortable silence—it made everything feel domestic. Like it was you and him for some time, like it’ll be you and him for a while still. You liked the thought of that.

Once you were almost finished, nothing left to apply but your lipstick, Chan got up from his crossed legged position on the bed and placed his hands on your shoulders.

You hummed in a small question, meeting his eyes through the mirror.

In response, Chan placed a small kiss on the back of your neck before proceeding to make more exaggerated kissing noises. You laughed loudly.

“I don’t wanna ruin anything you’ve done,” he says with an endeared smile once you turn around to face him, lips puckered.

He places a small kiss on your lips, sweet and far too short, and so you kiss him three more time to make up for it. Chan smiles fondly when he pulls away, tucking a few stray hairs away from your forehead.

“You look incredible,” he says in a whisper.

“Channie,” you whine, “I’m not even dressed or anything!”

“Neither am I!” He says with a chuckle, before pecking your lips twice more and announcing he’s going to go get ready now.

You turn back around to finish everything you need to do as well.

—

Chan is the perfect gentleman. You know that, you’ve always known that, but you’re never opposed to being reminded of that. He opens your door to the car once you get there, he opens the door to the car when you head back home, too.

He helps you pick the best looking meal on the menu and when your eyes look at his plate a little too long he decides you two should just share his (you end up sharing both dishes and then dessert, too).

The dinner was delicious and the atmosphere was wonderful and when you found a great big mirror in the foyer of the restaurant Chan didn’t hesitate before posing in front of it when you sweetly asked for some mirror selfies with him.

You looked like a couple out of a movie, all dressed up and in love—and it wasn’t long before those pictures made it to your new lockscreen.

Once you arrived home, you softly kiss Chan’s lips—too determined to do so you don’t even make it past the entrance.

“Thank you for tonight, Channie,” you say softly before planting another kiss to his full lips.

“Don’t thank me,” he shys away slightly, before accepting a third kiss. “It’s all to celebrate you. You deserve everything.”

It’s your turn to be shy, and you tuck your face into Chan’s neck with a small whine.

Chan chuckles happily, bringing a hand to your back as he softly rubs up and down. He places a small kiss to the side of your face, before he mumbles, “I truly am so proud of you. My hardworking baby.”

You let out a scoff, before nuzzling closer into his warmth. You bring a hand to his arm, fingers circling around his strong bicep.

“I know it’s sometimes hard without me,” he hums, “but you do so well.”

You chuckle.

“Thank you,” you try your best to accept it. “I do my best even when you aren’t here, because I know you’ll always come back.”

Chan brings two fingers to your chin, lifting your head up to meet his eyes. Your insides turn warmer, comforted by his embrace and his soft gaze on you. With a smile, his dimples come out on display and you can’t help but grin at your beautiful boyfriend.

“I’m here for a while now,” he promises, “you won’t have to do anything alone.”

“Like the dishes,” you start teasing, “and the shopping, and the cleaning,”

Chan rolls his eyes, and you—emboldened by his dimples, say, “and I won’t have to touch myself anymore.”

“Why?” Chan asks, head titled to the side slightly, “you don’t like touching yourself?”

“Uh,” you feel a small blush creep up your ears, “I-I do, just not the same when you do it.”

“Why not?” He asks, his finger running up and down your back slowly, making its way around your neck and up towards your hairline.

“It’s not as fun cumming when you aren’t telling me to,” you confess.

Chan’s eyebrows lift lightly before he’s chuckling, rubbing your scalp softly.

“So you need someone to tell you when to cum?” His voice deepens.

“Not someone,” you insist, “you.”

“Right answer,” Chan declares, and laces his fingers with yours. He kisses the back of your hand, delicately, as his eyes search yours. After a few moments he smiles up at you and drags you towards your shared bedroom.

Once inside he turns to you with determination, before grabbing your face with both hands and pulling your lips towards him. Chan is eager, tongue already pushing through your lips and licking into your mouth.

You hold back your moans as much as you can until you feel his hands on your hips, moving you around, guiding you towards the bed.

“Baby,” he whispers against yours lips, tugging on your clothes lightly. You quickly get rid of your layers before tugging on Chan’s button up shirt. You open one button, then another, and then when you reach the hem of his pants he stops you.

You look up at him, eyes wide as his hand holds both your wrists in place.

“I let you open it so you could see my body you like so much,” you nod quickly in confirmation, “but this isn’t about me now.”

“Channie, I—“

“—I want you to show me what you do when I’m not here,”

You blush deeply, feeling it all the way to your chest. You avert your gaze away from Chan, which is hard—considering the absolute sight that he is—and try and hide yourself. You can’t hide too much, with Chan still easily holding your wrists together in one hand. The other hand is used to softly cup your jaw, making you look right at his piercing brown eyes.

“It’s not that interesting, though,” you mumble, your eyes focused solely on the skin peaking out of Chan’s open dress shirt, his collarbone sharp and oh so kissable.

“Look at me,” he says softly. Your eyes jump upwards. “You just need to show me, okay? Let’s start there.”

You nod.

Chan slowly lets go of your wrists and gently pushes you against the pillows. Instantly, you find yourself spreading your legs, letting each knee fall to the side as you feel Chan’s eyes all over you. You don’t feel shy anymore, with his loving eyes admiring you the way they do. You feel safe as he runs his hands up and down your thighs, keeping them spread.

Your stomach flips for a second when he says, “start.”

You bring your fingers towards your pussy, starting slowly as you run a hand up and down your folds to start off.

“That’s a good start,” Chan says with a nod, “spread your wetness around first.”

You find yourself nodding along, eager to fulfil Chan’s request.

“Sometimes,” you bravely start, feeling the shyness taking over again, but you push through. “I play with my tits a little, to get myself wet.”

“Show me,” he smiles, squeezing your thighs for a moment before getting back to rubbing up and down the skin.

You bring your free hand to your chest, kneading softly before you roll your nipple between your fingers.

Chan tsks, shaking his head. “Not like that,” he says, face serious.

You're reminded of a time you were watching him practice with the others, and he stopped everything just to correct one of the boys’ mistake. You're reminded of how they all froze in fear when he said stop, how they all listen to his every word. You're reminded of just how much power Chan has over others, over his members, and over you. You feel electricity run through your body at the thought.

“Then how?” You ask, voice weak as it cracks.

“Take your thumb,” you nod, “and rub it slowly over your nipple. You like that more.”

He wasn’t saying you might like it more; it wasn’t a suggestion. Chan was telling you what you like and how to do it, and your pussy clenched around nothing at his words.

You followed his orders—and obviously he was right, and you let your head fall into the pillows as you breathed out an airy moan.

“That feels good, right?” You nod, halting the movement of your fingers as soon as your reach your clit. You stay there, applying light pressure and biting your lip.

You’ve been with Chan for however long now, and still, you don’t think you’ve ever touched yourself like this in front of him—certainly not under such scrutiny.

The realisation spurred you on, your fingers moving faster and faster against your clit.

“Just like that,” he says softly, voice slightly rough as he leans down to kiss the skin by your knee.

You dip a finger inside yourself, slowly, but Chan lifts up his hand. You freeze.

“Did I tell you to do that?” He asks, eyebrows scrunched together in faux confusion. It looks more like anger, and you feel yourself getting even wetter under his gaze.

“N-no,” you let out in a small voice.

“So?” He prompts.

“Channie, can I fuck myself on my fingers like I usually do when you’re not here?”

He chuckled loudly. “Not so shy anymore, huh?”

You shake your head, blinking up at him.

“Good,” he hums, “but only one finger for now. Okay?”

“Yeah, yes,” you happily nod, before sliding your finger further inside your pussy.

Chan moves around a little, settling himself on his stomach so his face is right in front of your exposed cunt. You’d usually get far too shy about all of this, but the want inside you is too intense to care about any of that. You keep moving your fingers, in and out, a loud wet sound following your movements.

“Sounds so good,” he whispers, reaching out a hand to touch. You want him to, need it so desperately, but his hand never reaches you.

“Channie,” you breath out, “want your fingers instead.”

He shakes his head as he clicks his tongue, “not yet.”

“Please,” you whine, moving your finger faster, “need more.”

“Add another finger,” he orders, and you quickly obey, even though that wasn’t what you asked for.

The stretch feels nice, so nice, you let your eyes flutter shut as you let the feeling take over your body.

“Feels good?” He asks, and kisses your thigh softly. Your whole body sets on fire from his touch, and you open your eyes just to whine loudly at him.

“More, please,” you beg, shamelessly.

“Another finger?” He says it as a question, but you still obey regardless.

With three fingers it’s harder to move your hand quickly, the stretch on the side of too tight, but you try as hard as you can. Because Chan told you to.

“Channie, want you,” you whimper.

“Not yet,” is all he answers.

He tells you to move faster, and so you do, and soon you can feel the telltale sign of an orgasm. It’s so close, even Chan can see it, and when your breath becomes ragged and quick he grabs your wrist again—halting your movements.

“What? What?” You let out, eyes wide and jaw gapped.

“Not yet,” he smiles, and asks you to slowly take your fingers out.

You do, without question or hesitation, and try your best to hide your disappointment. It doesn’t work too well, though.

“My beautiful baby,” he coos, kissing your cheek, “you wanted to cum?”

“Y-yeah, I was so close,” you pout at him.

Chan softly kisses your cheek, once then twice, before nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Can I feel how wet you are?” He asks softly. You nod. “With my cock?”

You moan, grabbing onto Chan’s shoulders as you breath out a string of incoherent pleas. He quickly strips himself—and you want to reach out and touch all over his body, but you stop yourself. Chan said this was about you and you should listen to him.

He grabs himself at the base, already fully hard just from watching you, and nudges the head into your entrance.

Chan raises a small eyebrow in question, and you nod quickly as you beg out a small, “more, want you deep.”

Chan pushes inside just like you’ve asked and before he can even settle and give you time to get used to the deep stretch of his cock you’re already squeezing at his shoulders.

“Channie, please, please move, I need it,” you start mumbling.

Chan kisses your forehead softly, as his warm hand cups your jaw. His fingers rub against your cheek, soft and comforting, before he starts fucking into you—hard and quick.

You aren’t sure what you’re saying, your mouth hanging open and Chan punching noises out of your chest as the pleasure takes over your thighs and your stomach and your cunt. It feels so good and Chan is asking you something but you don’t hear it until the second time he asks.

“Close?”

“Yes, yes, yes, so close I just need—“ you reach your hand towards your clit, but it’s once again trapped in Chan’s hold, and soon he pulls out entirely.

The pleasure leaves your body just as quick as it started, and your walls clench pathetically over the emptiness inside you while your clit throbs. There’s a fog taking over your brain; and with Chan holding you, you let yourself slip deeper into it.

“Why Channie?” you whine, shaking your head from side to side.

Chan kisses your wrist sweetly before letting it go, watching proudly as you pull your fingers away from your body and place them by your side.

“Not yet,” he kisses your lips.

Chan keeps going, again and again and again, pulling out as soon as you start begging to cum—enjoying the way you sob dryly at his treatment.

It’s when your eyes glaze over and your voice turns too soft for Chan to hear that he rubs your stomach softly.

“Six edges is really impressive, pretty,” he kisses your lips, “how are you feeling?”

You hum. “It feels so good.”

Chan smiles, kissing you again when you pucker your lips out silently. “I know.”

“Please don’t say not yet again,” you open your eyes, only now realising they’ve been closed. You aren’t sure for how long, but you blink the darkness away and look up at Chan. “Please let me cum now.”

Chan nods.

“Really? Really?” You grab onto his arms. “Please, please can I? Please?”

“Yes, baby, now you can.”

“Oh my god, oh my god, Channie, please,” you grab at his hips, pulling him closer to you with as much force as you can muster.

He chuckles before sliding all the way back inside you again. He’s edged you on his cock for however long, and so the stretch is nice and familiar by now—your cunt sucking him in desperately.

You clench around him as hard as you can, enjoying the way the fullness feels between your legs and all the way up into your stomach.

Chan holds your hips for leverage as he fucks into you once, twice. thumb rubbing against your hip bone, four, and then—

“Chan, Chan, Chan, I’m gonna, please, I can’t, I’m sooo close,”

“Cum, my pretty, cum on my cock.”

Your whole body shakes with it as your orgasm crashes into you after all the times Chan’s denied you, your toes curling and your stomach clenching and your veins glowing with it. Your vision turns black and your moans get caught in your throat and you feel even your jaw shaking.

It’s a few moments later, as you’re still basking in the afterglow, that Chan kisses your shoulder in a series of slow pecks as he mumbles out praises and, “I got you, baby, did so well. I’m here, I got you.”

Once you blink up at him with a pleased smile on your face, he leans down to kiss your lips. Even if you’re too tired to reciprocate much, you try.

“I’m gonna get something to clean with, alright?”

You nod, but pull Chan in for a slightly sweaty hug.

“You’re gonna need to let go,” he sing songs in your ear.

“Not yet,” you sing song back.

Chan laughs heartily at that, his laugh high pitched and disappearing at the edges—and it’s so contagious.

After the pair of you calm down, Chan eventually leaves to get you a washcloth and some food.

You drink the water he gives you, and eat the fruit, and he helps you clean yourself.

“Do you need anything else?” He asks once he takes away the empty bottle from you, rubbing your arm soothingly.

“My makeup,” you say, although you’re sure your massacre is already smudged on half your face by now and the foundation on your chin has probably disappeared.

Chan retrieves your makeup remover from the bathroom and your night cream, already applying some of the product on a cotton pad.

You reach out for it but Chan is faster, and grabs your chin while he gently removes the makeup. You hum happily, allowing Chan to spoil you.

“I love you, Channie,” you say as he starts applying the moisturiser onto your skin.

You giggle at his slightly surprised expression, before he leans in to kiss you. “I love you, too.”

You fall asleep in each other’s arms, satisfied and happy and safe.

[planetnini]

LOVE TO KEEP ME WARM !

࿔･ﾟ*࿐ for the first time ever satoru is left puzzled just by a simple question from tsumiki, but he knows just how to prove his love for you + gn!reader. fluff with some angst— use of nicknames (baby, sweetheart), found family trope <3, girl dad satoru agenda, he is a bit insecure but it gets resolved, cutest fucking declaration of love ever, surprises! snow shenanigans, mistletoe kiss, satoru is the best boyfie ever i love him (5.8k words)

notes. this is a gift!!!! so it will cater to the interests and personality of my person but everything else is very vague :) merry new years secret santa thing @scarameows-world !!!! very late by the time this gets published but whtever.. i'm the reindeer that's been up in your inbox <3 we had alot of good talks and i hope we can stay in touch after this :") now here's a cute little fic i made for you about the one and only gojo satoru. title is inspired by this song

gojo satoru is a man whose proficiency knows no bounds. he is a force to be reckoned with ushering a new era of powerful sorcerers and curses due to his possession of both the six eyes and limitless technique. he could do almost anything as one might expect and everything came naturally to him. he never had any doubts about himself, but then came along you. 

satoru was a natural when it came to flirting, but he was not accustomed to the rejection he faced in his early days when you would ‘let him down easy’– it was nothing short of disastrous, always ending in banter between you two. yet somehow you had your wicked ways of making him chase even though all you two did was flirt. after several attempts to woo you and you finally stepping up, one thing led to another now here you were, co-parenting two kids with the man you once swore you’d never be with. satoru was 100% sure that he would be yours for infinity, but it wavered on this particular day. 

satoru was on a little errand run with tsumiki whom he had entrusted with pushing the trolley around as he scanned the list you had made for tonight’s dinner and activity. she was a young and incredibly happy girl who was much friendlier than her brother, megumi. when satoru adopted the two, tsumiki had taken a liking to him immediately whilst megumi took a liking towards you so he had taken her on the trip. it had been going well, with them doing the final grocery run after spending what felt like hours picking out the perfect wreath for the front door, however tsumiki’s question stopped him right in his tracks.

“do you love y/n?” she asked, a little curious look decorating her features.

“that’s a silly question. of course i do!” he uttered, scanning the wreaths with his eyes picking out the perfect one because quite frankly, he didn’t know how to react. 

people naturally assume that growing up from a family who viewed him as an ornament and coddled him that he would be a closed book or lacking in social skills but his first few years at jujutsu tech proved everyone wrong: he was not just a pretty face who could get away with just that. in the end, his love for others was his weakness and tsumiki had brought up something that satoru had failed to anticipate. what did she see that satoru couldn’t and was that even possible?

she took the wreath from his hands and put it into the trolley bringing him back to the present, “how do you know you love y/n?” she paused, and tsumiki must be sadistic for making him suffer like this, “what does it feel like?” she asked, looking up at him.

satoru looked down at the child, surprised by her questions. he paused for a moment, considering how to articulate such an answer to a complex question. was it that hard to believe that gojo satoru was capable of loving someone?

while satoru would never admit it at the start, he needed megumi and tsumiki more than they needed him. after suguru’s defect, they especially reminded him that sometimes blood wasn’t all that important when it came to the people you loved. he loved them but in a completely different way than he loved you. a love so unequivocal that it was impossible for people not to know how truly and deeply in love satoru was with you, so he wasn’t sure where he went wrong but perhaps it wasn’t enough.

“well,” he began a thoughtful look on his face, “loving someone is different to everyone. i guess i can’t really explain it other than a warm, fuzzy feeling inside and it makes you feel like everything is right…” he replied, her eyes lighting up with understanding, “you care for their happiness the most, that you’d even share your favourite candy.” he chuckled with a playful glint in his eyes, trying not to sound too sentimental.

“so you feel warm and fuzzy when you see y/n?” she looked up curiously at satoru.

he chuckled, ruffling the child's hair, "yeah, exactly. now come on, let’s finish this quickly so we can go home. get something for yourself and your brother.” he winked to which tsumiki nodded eagerly, seemingly satisfied with his answer as she rushed down the aisle finding something to bring home.

the atmosphere between satoru and the girl was no longer tense but satoru’s mind was swirling. he was reflecting on the innocence of the question as he took control of the trolley now, finished with his chores for the day. he even went as far as buying you something too but tsumiki had inadvertently planted a seed of doubt in his mind and now satoru was spiralling. did he love you enough? was his warm and fuzzy feelings strong and genuine, or was it something he convinced himself of after everything that went down? the simplicity of her question left satoru questioning himself and for the first time in forever, he is unsure of his relationship with you.

“i thought i told you that they can’t stay up late.” you spoke while washing the dishes. satoru could only lightly chuckle as he rinsed the plate, putting it on the drying rack. he knew you only meant well but he enjoyed seeing you like this more than he had expected: seeing you so worried and being such a caring person towards them. it was not like he had forced you to take care of them, it was through your own volition that you practically raised them.

“come on…” he drawled a little pout on his lips, “they said they didn’t want to decorate the tree without you tomorrow.” he reasoned, knowing that the two children in the living room were your true weakness and that just as much as you do for them, they’d do for you too. the way a simple sentence morphed your furrowed brows into a look of gratitude proved his point.

“do they actually want to decorate the tree with me or is it only because you bought them sweets today?” you accused.

“they’re much older now,” he reassured with a tone you doubt has any good intentions, “besides, i think it’s fair if we stop their ban on sweets, don’t you?” he asked with a simple hip nudge and you roll your eyes at the gesture.

he was happy with this, with how things were going in your life right now, in fact he couldn’t get enough of it. his request was simple, but you wasted no time immediately retaliating, “you just want to freely eat your sweets and use them as an excuse.” 

“what little faith you have in me!” he gasped and you have to stifle a laugh, “plus, they’re kinda scary when they don't get their way.” he joked, leaning back on the counter with his arms crossed to get a better view of you who had just finished washing and drying your hands after dinner. 

“how the higher-ups trust someone like you on those missions, i have no idea. i wonder how they would react if they found out you can’t handle two children.” you said, flashing him a smile. mentioning the higher-ups in the conversation made satoru’s blood boil but it had been tamed when he caught that little shake of your head combined with your smile. he had been contemplating the nature and depth of his feelings for you but tonight had proved that it was all a fluke– just seeing you was enough to remind him that nothing about loving you could ever be doubted, because loving you was as natural as breathing.

satoru leaned down to meet your eyes as you turned to face him, “sweetheart, if you want me home instead of on missions, you could just say so.” he smirked– a signature gojo satoru look that you couldn’t tell if you loved or hated.

you narrowed your eyes at him, “i hope you get put on more missions.” 

“you wound me.” he grunted, a hand over his heart feigning hurt but you knew that he was joking.

“you can take it.” you hummed, eyebrows scrunching as he stared down at you lovingly with a smile etched across his face.

there have been so many moments between you, satoru and the kids that blossomed with joy– something that felt lost in a world rife of evil– but you forget that you’re both still fairly young, thwarted into roles of guardians. you loved satoru since you were teens and seeing that this was your first relationship ever, it is only normal to feel insecure, and normal that you have doubts that satoru could ever truly love you.

while staring at satoru your mind can’t help but swirl with thoughts and he catches on immediately, perceptive as ever due to his six eyes and well, being gojo satoru. he sees it in your contemplative sighs that he had been hearing throughout the week, in your crafted smile, the way your shoulders are tensed and your jaw clenched: he knows you’re feeling some way right now because even your eyes don’t have their usual spark. your name rolls off his tongue so naturally, as if he was born to say it, as he reaches up to brush his hand across your cheek.

“what’s on your mind?” he questioned with a tilt of his head, thumb caressing your cheek. to him, the signs are as clear as day that you were troubled with thoughts of something and he wouldn’t rest until he found out what was going on in that beautiful mind of yours.

that warm fuzzy feeling intensified, secret moments between the two of you that the young girl was unaware of. it’s times like this you’re grateful that satoru is so in touch with how you felt most times and you can’t help the relief that settles in your heart when you realise you were so lucky to have him in your life, “it’s nothing,” you shook your head with a smile plastered on your face, “just… thank you for everything you did the other day,” you said, genuinely appreciative of his contribution to megumi’s birthday dinner, “i know you don’t think that he likes you but he really does look up to you.” you admitted.

“my charms aren’t all that bad.” he hummed, a proud nod as you snorted at his holier-than-thou tone.

your eyes closed at the soft contact of his lips on the crown of your head, warmth spreading all throughout your body during the cold winter month. you crave him and his touch, and you’re lucky that he hasn’t been put on any missions, specifically requested (he threatened the higher-ups knowing his status) to stay home with you and the others for just a couple of weeks. a small sigh left his lips as he started moving his hands away from your face up over his blindfold, the loss of contact made you pout slightly. your hand came over his, stopping him with a simple action, “are you sure you want them off?” you whispered, your voice dripping with concern.

“i want to see you.” he said, without an ounce of hesitation in his response. 

“i don’t like the migraines it gives you when you have them off.” you retaliated as you shook your head resolutely. he wants to listen to you, seeing how much you cared for him and laid your heart out for him. the love you had for him was overflowing and he did not know how he got so lucky.

“i can take it,” he insisted, voice a mix of both amusement and affection, “besides, i’ll endure any and all amounts of pain just for you.”

“after that declaration, i better not hear a complaint out of you.” you said, smiling up at him as you begin to unwrap the blindfold yourself. your delicate fingers moved the bandages around his head, undoing the white bandages. the gesture made satoru relax in your touch as you pulled them away from his face. being able to let his guard down after suguru had been difficult but you were a rare (and lucky) case.

once the bandages are undone, you can see that he’s wincing and squinting, probably due to the oversensitivity. adjusting to his surroundings, you brush his cheek with your thumb and his eyes flutter open to have a look at you, “hi beautiful.” he breathes out, utterly captivated by you.

you mirrored his look, squinting as you leaned forward with a smile wanting nothing more than to kiss him until– 

“what’s taking so long?” tsumiki yelled, surprising you and making the two of you jump from your spot. if satoru was masking his pain before, he wasn’t doing so now as he screwed his eyes shut and you feel extra protective of satoru now that his blindfold was off. he was extra sensitive to loud surroundings so when she came in shouting the two of you with his guard fully down, you knew satoru probably was still adjusting to having his blindfold off with the kids.

“did your brother put you up to this?” you asked.

“we were just wondering where you two were.” she replied bashfully.

“i told you they were kissing.” megumi groaned from behind her and if you weren’t embarrassed before, you wanted to dig your grave now that he had said it out loud.

“actually, we were rudely interrupted.” satoru complained, narrowing his eyes at megumi. living with them, you know how much megumi truly looked up to satoru but moments like this question why they were always at each other’s neck

megumi rolled his eyes, “have some manners you two,” you ordered, making tsumiki chuckle a bit, “i’m sorry for making you guys wait so long.” you apologised and you see megumi nod slightly at you.

“are you two in cahoots?” satoru whispered in your ear but you pushed him away jokingly. megumi was first to leave the room and tsumiki followed suit, but before satoru joined the two, you reached out grabbing his hand, “i know you said no presents this year, but-” you said, handing him a wrapped rectangular box.

“you said no presents for christmas.” he blurted out, confusion taking over his features.

“well, i sometimes doubt if you ever listen to me,” you looked up at him and you would be right because satoru had bought and wrapped your gift already, “just think of it as a very belated birthday present then.” you smiled at him, anticipating his reaction to your gift.

he opened the box carefully and he could see an engraving on a case, and his heart sunk. he knew he was in love with you, but was it possible to love you even more than he already had? he picked up the case and took out the special glasses he wore when he went out instead of the usual blindfold.

“i remember you said you needed new ones after they broke.”

“correction, when megumi broke my other ones.” he corrected. you rolled your eyes at him, and give him a light peck on the cheek, “thank you.” he spoke before you could make your way to help the children. 

“don’t break them again, i’m not made of money satoru.” you warned and situated yourself on the floor, sitting cross legged as you peered over at what the two had been up to when you and satoru were in the kitchen. tsumiki was unboxing some tinsel and megumi was taking care of the ornaments. to be honest, you weren’t sure when you became one of those families who went full out for christmas. the only things you ever really did was presents or stockings and having dinner together. you were overlooking the process, not really helping, or rather not knowing how to as you had never really had a tree let alone decorate one. 

“you’re not going to help?” tsumiki questioned, with a tilt of her head as she began to decorate the tree.

all the attention is turned to you now as you shake your head untangling some of the lights for the tree, “i mean, i’ve never really celebrated christmas with a tree and it’s for you guys right?”

“that’s sick and twisted!” satoru gasped, slumping down right next to you with his new sunglasses, “so you mean you’ve never had a christmas tree?” he exclaimed, and quite frankly you don’t really see the big deal.

“i wasn’t blessed with being born into a family like yours.” you teased and he took serious offence to that, not because he was offended by your comment but more so your nonchalance. 

“well, anything you want to do for christmas?” megumi asked, putting some of the ornaments on the tree. he always had an artistic perspective and you were glad he was putting so much thought into where each one went.

“i’m not going to be home until late at night, but i guess i’ve always wanted it to snow big enough that i could build a snowman.” you shrugged, looking at the kids.

“that’s impossible.” megumi groaned.

“how are we going to get it to snow?” she exclaimed.

“exactly. it’s alright,” you reassured as you stood up from your spot, “as long as i’ve got you guys, that’s all i could ask for.” you winked at them as you helped them get to the higher spots of the tree. satoru sits there watching as you now start to help the two decorate the tree and decide to help out. you are too distracted to see that his mind is swirling with ideas– he is determined to make your christmas a little more special and he has some ideas up his sleeve that he can’t wait to use.

you feel the exhaustion of staying up late last night settle deep into your bones when you’re on your way home from the mission. it wasn’t like you didn’t get enough sleep, you got just the perfect amount but not being home today to celebrate with the kids and satoru kind of made your heart sink. it had always been the four of you the entire day and sometimes occasionally with the others but being away from home, away from them had taken a big toll on your heart.

you wiped at your eyes with a yawn as you began making your way down the path to your house. the cool winter night was in full swing, trees moving slightly in the small rush of wind that passed by along with the small sprinkles of snow.  you took a deep breath and rubbed over your arms as you looked up at the sky. you weren’t lying when you said you wanted snow, it had always been a dream of yours to see falling snow, and enough that it might be enough to build a snowman, it was just something that hadn’t happened in a long time. 

you reached the house but the eerily quietness and lack of light concerned you, were they watching a movie or something or did they go out and not tell you beforehand? you brushed off your worries, unlocking the door walking into an empty house. the whole room was dark, nothing could be heard and your heart was stuck in your chest, stopping at just the mere thought of not being completely alone right now. 

you could hear some whispers and instinctively your hand went up, charging up your cursed technique as you hear some shuffling until an array of fairy lights went off above you, decorated meticulously going up the stairs and some nice garlands all around, warm lighting and while you’re staring at the lights, you don’t notice the three standing right in front of you.

“welcome home.” they shouted, and you swear you had felt that much relief in your entire life.

“i could’ve hurt you guys!” you exclaimed, a hand over your heart. the soft vinyl record you distinctly remember shoko gifting you after seeing you eye it last christmas playing from the living room, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“well that defeats the whole point of a surprise if i told you, right guys?” he said, and it is only now you realise that he has a santa hat on with the other two in ugly sweaters. you know megumi would be less than happy to be dressed in this right now but you assume he did so for you and couldn’t help the way the corner of your lips curved up at the sight. this… this is what you loved about your little family, and you knew it was wrong to call it a family– the two kids aren’t yours, and you’re not married to satoru but this moment, combined with the cute late night you shared with them just the night prior confirmed that you were all closer than that and how much they loved you.

“you did not need to do this for me,” you sighed, a little overwhelmed by how well decorated everything was. you hadn’t even noticed the holly, the bells, candles, and a bunch of other festive decorations– they really went all out. you wonder just how they pulled it all together but then you remembered that satoru would stop at nothing when it came to his gestures, “and you definitely did not need to drag them into this.” you added, kneeling down in front of them so that you could hug tsumiki and as you stood up you looked at megumi and ruffled his hair despite how much you know he hated when satoru did it, when you did it, you weren’t met with the same grumpy huff.

satoru gasped, “hey, these two were asking if you’d like them and i pointed them in one direction okay?” he defended but as you looked down at the two they were shaking their heads as if to refute his words, “don’t listen to them. they did it because they love you just as much as i do.”

respectfully, you hated satoru but not in a way that was malicious but for always making you feel like the luckiest person on earth. for being friends with you back then when it seemed like the world wasn’t on your side, for allowing you to stay in his life after losing his friend, for letting you take care of two of the most beautiful children ever. he was one of the sweetest people you ever knew and you doubt any gift or gesture would be enough to make up for the man that he is. without realising you had tears stream down your face, and you bring your hand up over your face to cover it. you weren’t usually the type to cry over something so trivial but here you were.

“i can’t believe you made y/n cry on christmas.” megumi complained, trying to lighten the mood as tsumiki’s mouth dropped.

"y/n's fine!" satoru reassured and you can’t help but laugh as you wiped away some of the tears. before you could speak satoru went over to you, engulfing you in a hug, “you better not apologise for crying. there’s nothing you need to be sorry for.” he reassured, rubbing circles on your back. you nod profusely, trying to keep yourself calm in front of the others (not that they’d never seen you cry before) before pulling away from the hug. you stared into his cerulean eyes, out and free from their usual blindfold or glasses, “it’s nice to see you my love.” he whispered, meant only for your ears. 

you chuckled, pressing your lips into his cheek before turning around, “how about we open some gifts? how does that sound?” you smiled and their eyes lit up, brighter than the lights all inside the house and they scattered off like little mice to the living room where the tree was, with quite a few presents under the tree (courtesy of satoru’s money but joint in terms of thinking of what to get them) and you followed behind. satoru threw his arm over your shoulder as you took a seat on the couch as they got ready to unwrap their gifts.

“are you hungry?” he asked softly as they started unwrapping their gifts, the one in the penguin wrapping paper which satoru had wrapped up himself.

“i had something to eat on the way back.” you reassured and he nodded.

the two had spent quite a while opening satoru’s gifts. you noticed that the presents were some things the two children had mentioned once a very long time ago and were quite surprised that satoru had hand picked these gifts himself without asking you for help. you knew that he noticed every little detail about the people in his life but it made you wonder if he got you a gift after you said not to. you wouldn’t be mad if he didn’t get you one and vice versa.

“i got you that one.” you spoke, trying to contain your excitement as megumi picked up your gift, wrapped in some candy cane paper. you watched as he unwrapped it, revealing a digital camera and you hear tsumiki exclaim, excited for her gift now.

“a camera?”

you sat up, moving away from satoru as you leaned forward, “i know there aren’t that many pictures of you guys around the house so i got you that so we could start printing some out and putting them up.” 

megumi couldn’t hold in his gratitude any longer bringing you in for a hug, “thank you y/n.” he said, and you hugged him back, kissing him on the cheek. satoru was going to make a comment about how he also wanted a hug after all the gifts he gave but it was a special moment shared between the two of you and he was not going to ruin the moment.

as megumi was setting up his camera with satoru’s help, you turned to tsumiki and watched as she unwrapped her own gift, she looked up from the box to you with shock all over her face, “y/n…” she whispered, voice cracking, “i can’t take this.” she said, handing you back the box.

“hey.. it's okay,” you reassured, lightly pushing the box back in her direction, “it’s a gift tsumiki.” 

you watched her pull out the necklace, the stunning small heart shaped engraved with her initial on it but that wasn’t all you got her. after observing the necklace and helping her put it on, she opened a box that contained a letter, telling her of how much you adored her with special keepsakes from some memories you shared throughout the year. you have never seen her so happy and when she hugged you, you catch the stare that satoru is giving you– absolutely entranced by how much you loved them. a simple flash takes you off guard as megumi takes his first picture on the camera.

“how about you guys get your coats, i have something to give y/n.” satoru stated and they ran off with excitement in their bones at his plan. he had filled them in but they weren't convinced he could pull it off.

“talk about a successful night.” you chuckled, picking up the wrapping paper and throwing it in the bag that satoru was holding. 

“get changed.” he spoke, taking the bag from you and now it’s your turn to be surprised again.

“what? where are we going?”

after getting changed, suspicion arising from his sudden ask of getting changed. you walk out of your room seeing everyone in their coats, scarves, and you watch as the children begin to walk out first leaving the two of you alone. 

“what are you up to satoru?” you questioned, furrowing your brows. 

“since you thought you could cheat your way around buying me a gift,” he replied honestly, which took you off guard, “i thought it was only fair if i got you some things as well.” there was a small box in his hand, and you took it from his hand. you held your breath as you unwrapped the paper to see a box tied with a ribbon. you opened the box, revealing nothing but a sheet of paper.

you definitely weren’t the ungrateful type but you were expecting something else like maybe a ring, a necklace or something else but as you examined the paper you looked up at him with your mouth wide open. it was a receipt of something you had been eyeing for a couple months but nothing you could excuse spending money on. you had been an avid lover since you were young and it was always your dream to have one of these.

“satoru.” you said, honestly starstruck at his gift.

“you have been eyeing that for so long,” he reasoned with a simple nudge of the shoulder, "merry christmas."

“i can’t accept this.” you shook your head, giving it back to him but you know it is relentless to deny his gifts especially after you pulled your little secret gift on him the other day.

satoru gave you a stare and pursed his lip, “you are keeping it. end of discussion.” he smiled as he started to wrap a scarf around you. satoru had always looked good in winter clothing, a scarf tucked around his neck and due to his infinity, he was never cold but still dressed to the occasion with his designer brands. he was so handsome…

“and since you’re not saying anything i'm assuming you don't like it?” he taunted. you told your brain to make a coherent sentence or at least move so you don’t make a fool of yourself just looking at the gift. you stared up at him, you used your free hand to push the scarf down from the bottom half of your face, "you know i thought you weren't going to get me anything?"

satoru had never stopped at any words faster than he had those, "what?" he answered with a shaky voice.

you scoffed holding his hand in yours, looking anywhere but into his eyes, "i thought you might do a whole 'i'm your gift' thing," you admitted, a little ashamed you had such little faith in him, "i guess you do love me."

"y/n..." he uttered, "if i have ever made you doubt i love you then i have failed as your boyfriend," he spoke and you could feel your whole body warm at his words. "you are everything to me even if you and megumi are in cahoots and pray on my downfall." he said and you shoved him. he winced lightly at the push and smiled as he pulled you close to him once more, eyes moving down to your lips then back up to your eyes.

“that was really sweet of you.” you uttered, looking up at him.

“sweet enough for a kiss?”

“unless you make it snow, i’m not kissing you.” 

“i think i deserve just one…” he teased as he leaned closer to you.

a hand suddenly grabbed yours, tsumiki's gloved one, and once again stealing that moment between you and satoru, "y/n! didn't you hear me?" she gasped as you saw the wet snow on her coat go from crystal into a wet drop.

"what happened? is megumi okay? are you okay?" you asked, hand brushing over her face as if to check for any injuries.

"it's snowing!" she exclaimed as she made her way back out.

you looked over at satoru baffled but you could just see him smile at you mischievously and you run out and to your surprise, the snow is pouring down from the sky and you now know that your christmas wish has been satisfied. looking up at the sky, you put your hand out as the snow falls into your hand and you chuckle even though you are freezing your ass off.

the children began throwing snowballs at each other and one hits you at the back of the head and you turn to see all three of them standing there staring at you. they all point at gojo before you decide to pick up some snow for yourself throwing it at him back, thankful his infinity was still down.

you truly appreciate satoru doing his best to make you happy because it was all you ever wanted. he got a snowball in the face before falling down on the floor, and all of you chuckled at him landing on his back as he began to sit up, snow covering his whole back side and all in his hair.

you knelt in the snow and began to make the snowman you've always wanted to during christmas with the help of the two and when you're done you notice him standing at the front porch just staring as tsumiki started doing snow angels and megumi's two wolf shikigami joining him in the snow. you don't know when he let them out but you just smiled as you approached satoru, "what are you doing here?"

"just admiring you," he complimented and you shake your head, "did i do okay?"

you stare at him in bewilderment before moving to press a kiss to his cheek, "you did well satoru. more than that if possible."

he smiled cheekily and you move your hand to drag him back into the snow, "come on..." you hummed as you tried to pull him away from the front porch but he refused to move and you stare at him with a tilt of the head, "what's wrong?"

"you said you would kiss me if i made it snow.” he recalled, hand on his chin as he tried to refresh your memory.

“how the hell did you manage to make it snow?” you snickered but he didn’t look like he was joking. you don’t know how he managed, he would never say but you shook your head, “sorry babe, i don’t think you can control the weather… it is quite unpredictable.” you shrugged, giving him a fake guilty look.

“it’s a christmas miracle!” he yelped with his smile that you know and have grown to adore so much and you follow his gaze to the mistletoe above your head, "you know the rules." he seethed trying to seem nonchalant.

"you're an idiot," you laughed before holding his face in your hands, tiptoeing a bit before pressing your lips to his. you pulled away and brushed his lips with your thumb a little, "i love you satoru, always."

he could only pull you back in for another kiss, smiling as he did so as the kids exclaimed in disgust and horror at the sight. "i love you y/n. here's to many more years with you." he whispered when he pulled away. it was a christmas you will never forget and one that tsumiki and megumi will also never forget, dramatically reminding you that they were traumatised from your little kiss.

tags! @stsgluver @sukxma (thank you for hosting the event)

i hope you love this lynne, i apologise it's not my best work and i'm sorry it took so long. i love you, i hope you're doing well

[bedoballoons]

Fontaine, Sumeru , Inazuma boys + Zhongli and Xiao with a GN! Darling that has Newts Briefcase from fantastic beasts

Your blog looks beautiful btw

Awwe thank you so much!! <3 I hope you enjoy!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Reader with a briefcase like Newts~༺}

CW: Fluffy and magical! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon amour)

(Includes: Lyney, Zhongli, Tighnari, Heizou, and Xiao!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney obviously didn't know every magic trick in Teyvat, that would be almost impossible, but he did know quite a few of them and he could usually figure out how others were done fairly quickly, but how your suitcase managed to hold a whole boar, crystalflies of every element, and tens more animals, some of which he'd never seen before, was beyond anything even he could imagine.

You'd left him speechless, mouth agape as he stared at you in awe, "Mon amour, how is this possible? How are you doing that?" You blushed slightly, seeing the way his eyes shun like that of child's when they see something magic for the first time, "I can't tell, it's a secret, but you're welcome to use it for one of your shows, just make sure to feed the scorpions, they get angry otherwise and they aren't very nice when they're angry."

𑁍༄Zhongli:

Zhongli stared at your happy face, your arms extended outwards, being used as a perch for at least 10 exotic birds...all of which had appeared from your suitcase. Originally he had assumed this was only possible because the work of an adepti, but upon closer inspection he saw no signs of adeptal power, infact it seemed completely foreign to him...which only made him more curious.

"You say it can hold as many animals as the forests of Liyue? That's certainly a incredible feat...may I asked how you've acquired such a unique and interesting treasure?" He smiled slightly at you, hoping you'd clear up the mysterious nature behind the briefcase, but you simply chuckled, "One day I'll tell you, but for now it would be far more fun to keep it a secret~"

𑁍༄Tighnari:

Tighnari was sitting in front of your suitcase with his eyes glued to it like at any moment it could actually explode, not because it was somehow holding more animals than he even knew of, but from the sheer amount power such a item would have to have. In all of his days of studying at the akademiya and traveling to other lands in search of new plant varieties, he'd never seen anything like it. "Does it contains exotic plants as well? Do each of the animals have their own ecosystems? If you shut the suitcase for to long does the oxygen run out or does the suit case somehow supply oxygen? Have you ever tried to go in the suit case?"

Your eyes widened at his many questions, more and more spilling from his lips before he could stop himself...frazzling you slightly. You hadn't expected him to get so excited about it, but even with his never ending questions, it was absolutely adorable to see him this way. It was like he'd found a miracle and he wanted to learn everything about it with you.

𑁍༄Heizou:

Heizou stuck his head into your suitcase, trying to find clues as to how it worked, but the detective was more than just stumped, he was simply baffled as to how something like it could even exist. "You weren't joking when you said you wanted to show me something beyond my imagination. I've seen Onis with horns fight beetles and gods who can make the air actually buzz with emotion, but I don't think I've ever seen anything that has come close to the mystery behind this. Do you think you could live in it?"

"I suppose you could, but I'm not exactly sure. You could be the test subject if you'd like." You winked at him teasingly and he smiled up at you, almost like he was actually considering it for moment, "I think I prefer the scenery in the outside world, but we could always take a romantic vacation together inside the suitcase~" Your cheeks turned a scarlett red as he giggled at you quietly, if you teased him, it was only fair he teased back.

𑁍༄Xiao:

Xiao kneeled down, softly scratching the underside of a mora weasels chin, unbothered by the fact the animal had just run out of your suitcase along side a fairly massive boar. You actually seemed more surprised by his reaction than he did of your suitcase, "So what do you think hmm?"

"I think,...it reminds of the teapots us adepti sometimes use. They appear normal on the outside, but on the inside it's a island specifically designed with our comfort in mind, I've never seen a suitcase version before though.." His eyes met yours and your heart skipped a beat, you responded without even thinking and it flustered you to no end, "Do you have a teapot? May I see it if you do?"

"...I...don't have one, maybe, one day...we can make one together?"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[kirbyskisses]

a thing i wrote in @14thcommander’s dms. no warnings; fem!reader + fluff. i’m in love with the emo boy/cutesy girl aesthetic.

i am once again thinking of childhood friends to lovers with megumi fushiguro

you’re a pudgy little thing at your kindergarten where everyone else is ignoring the spiky black haired boy sitting by himself on the bench with an uncaring expression.

your interest is piqued as he’s picked up by a lanky, white-haired man who carries a goofier, more youthful energy than any of the other parents.

you bravely trot up, little pastel boots splashing in the rain at the odd duo and call.

“hey wait! uhm… what was your name! fu…fushi-?” you try to remember his name from roll call and his dark eyes widen at your approach momentarily before drooping again.

“i’m fushiguro.”

“fu-shi-gu-ro, right!” you laugh, a bright gentle sound despite the gray day. “i like your doggy, fushiguro!”

that causes him and his guardian to pause, the white haired man crouching to you, incredibly blue eyes peering amicably over pitch black glasses.

“well now… you can see it huh? you’ve certainly got a lot of cursed energy for a kid so small. you know, you’re very special to see those?” he smiles and you grin back.

“yeah! i can see ‘im!” your bright eyes turn back to megumi, delighted. “can i pet him them?? pretty please!!”

megumi looks to gojo’s approving grin, then to you with a soft nod as your tiny form pats the white devil dog’s snout, a mess of giggles at its curious nose and teeth.

and then “fushiguro” becomes “megumin” and then “min-chan.”

min-chan who you have play dates with that evolve into study dates and training where he can never bring himself to actually lay a hit on you.

min-chan who frowns when you go home from school early with a cold, but blushes a subtle pink when he walks into his house and sees you getting your hair braided by his sister.

min-chan whose cheeks dust a light pink at the bright, ever-excited warmth of your smile as you explain - “your house was closer, so tsumiki-nee said to stay here rather than walk home sick!”

min-chan who’s a bit more of a hormonal tween now. his blush darkens when he sees you wearing his extra shirt to sleep in and hears you using his shower.

min-chan who finds out you’re being mocked or bullied for your interests in middle school and comes to you with bloodied knuckles as he walks you to the train station. he always walks you, every day.

“it’s not my blood.” he looks at the red staining his hands. “don’t look so worried. next time they bother you, just tell me…”

min-chan who is devoted to cheering you up.

min-chan who listens you talk about whatever manga boy it is your simping over or whatever new album you’ve torrented onto your ipod. he only gives soft nods and the occasional smile but you know he’s listening diligently.

and min-chan who bites his lips and mutters “it’s not a big deal” anytime you congratulate him on taming a new shadow curse.

min-chan who mumbles “hold on tight,” red in the face when you wrap around him to ride nue for the first time.

min-chan who hides that his new phone has you – cradling one of his smaller shadow frogs – as his wallpaper.

min-chan who frowns his gojo perpetually pokes his cheek - teasing that his “girlfriend” really is getting stronger and he needs to catch up if he wants to keep the “tough emo boyfie” act up.

min-chan whose eyes widen when you call him “megumi” - thanking him for everything and handing him a box of cookies for gojo-san, the day you move away. you’re strong enough to master your family’s technique back in their home country.

so now he’s megumi.

megumi who nods tersely as your cute voice chides “don’t get into too many fights okay? and hug the puppies twice as much for me!”

megumi who doesn’t stop thinking about how your lips feel against his cheek for days.

megumi who wants to text, but his head nags that he’d only be an annoyance to your training - maybe it’s better he just leaves you alone. besides, curses are getting stronger and tsumiki has fallen ill - he has enough to worry about.

megumi fushiguro, high school student, who bites the inside of his cheek in annoyance as gojo drags him, nobara and itadori along to pick up the last first year of the bunch.

fushiguro who rolls his eyes as the two question what the new addition will be like.

and his breath hitches, seeing a form in a familiar blue uniform. a form dripping in a controlled yet powerful cursed aura, down the street.

with cute cartoon dog pins and a handful of shojo manga, the teen rushes up and calls out. the voice is deeper given the passing years but no less exuberant and familiar.

“gojo-san!! over here!!”

megumi, who feels like a kid again, flushed cheeks and surprised eyes as gojo swings you around with a laugh and you attentively compliment nobara’s lipstick and listen to itadori’s ever-goofy introduction.

“i’m into girls like jennifer lawrence.” he says with not an ounce of shame, megumi still reeling at hearing you say your name with the same friendly laugh you did all those years ago.

“… and i’m into guys like — min-chan!!”

your eyes land on him and the rest of you soon follows, swallowing his taller form whole in a tight hug that knocks him to the sidewalk.

you don’t pay a single iota of attention to the onlookers or to the surprised expressions on each of your classmates instead just letting them watch as you cup his cheeks and squeal.

“it’s been sooooo long! you got bigger - did the puppies get bigger too?! got any new animals? gojo-san got a new blindfold isn’t it cool? hey, how come you didn’t call me or tell me tsumiki-nee is sick - i would have come sooner to help! did you hear i might become a first grade sorcerer this year? how come you never called or wrote?! you’re so rude… but i forgive because i missed you so much!! doesn’t my uniform look cute?!”

you spit out in rapid succession, pinching his cheeks.

megumi who doesn’t have time nor evidence to deny it this time when gojo calls you his “girlfriend” in front of an utterly shocked yuuji and nobara. who only takes a deep, shaky breath to regain his normal deadpan expression.

his other two classmates’ jaws drop farther when he replies without a hitch.

“i’m 175 centimeters now. yes the dogs are bigger. i have rabbits, a serpent and an elephant now. his new blindfold is fine but it makes him no less annoying. i didn’t want to bother you, i’m proud of you for you raise in grade…” he pauses and only then looks away with another deep breath, red on his cheeks.

“thank you for forgiving me…i missed you too…and you do look very cute in your uniform.”

because he’s megumi - the one who acts disinterested to everyone but as always hears every word you say.

megumi, your childhood friend, who doesn’t so much as blink, expression bored at yuuji and nobara’s horrified surprise or gojo’s teasing grin.

he just keeps holding you, sat there on the sidewalk as you nuzzle your cheeks to his like an overly-affectionate kitten happy to have your “min-chan” back. <3