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hxnbi · 2 days

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✧ among the stars — sung jinwoo

synopsis: in which jinwoo still clings fruitlessly onto the past

tags: angst, death, unhealthy coping with said death, no comfort, gn reader

word count: 2.3k

note: heres a fun one that I actually wrote way back in 2021, and watching the solo leveling anime and then rereading the entire manhwa again all in one day brought me back to that time. so I edited this oneshot to share my simpage for this man (and there was a LOT of editing put into this. past me writing this sure was interesting)

Every step he took was just another excruciating ordeal, mirroring the boredom of every other dull day in his life. Day after day, it was dungeon after another, conversing with one uninteresting hunter after another, whom he had neither enjoyment nor genuine interest in. Everyone, except for you, that is.

You were the singular exception to all the mundanity. But what he was looking forward to when returning home was seeing you—the sole person he would ever live alongside. Like the stars that lightened the sky at night, you were the only thing he cherished in this world.

"Hello? [Y/n]? Are you home?"

No reply.

A small smile edged over his lips. 'Guess they're still at work.' But his shoulders drooped in disappointment. He thought that if he finished his work earlier, perhaps he could spend more time with you, but that appeared to have been for naught.

Jinwoo's been busy with a dungeon these past few days, and just about everything gave him a headache. Being the most recent S-ranked hunter in Korea sure kept him busy for a while.

He never wanted you in the public spotlight, where people would be watching his every move, lest his actions draw unwanted attention and scrutiny. It haunted him. But unbeknownst to his own fears, you understood that fact completely.

Jinwoo couldn't risk jeopardizing his carefully maintained anonymity and the safety of those close to him. Only then could you be by his side and comfort him when nobody else could. With your hand over his, you offer a sense of silent support. Quietly, you always preferred being at the centre of attention.

Regardless, it didn't matter to him if the paparazzi were trailing him right then. He needed more time to see you as of late. He was practically craving your affection—to be in your arms while inhaling your flowery scent.

But... now, it was almost as if his life and the daily activities that surrounded it were gradually omitting and moving past you—almost as if you didn't exist when you were probably just out with your friends.

Seeing you weren't here, he proceeded to wait for you to return home. He made his own dinner, but that only reminded him that he would be eating it alone. Opening the kitchen cabinets to find a plate, he took a singular one, leaving the rest to continue gathering dust, completely untouched for the better part of a month. His meal had ended up tasting blander than usual. Perhaps it was because you weren't here, sitting beside him.

Your absence that night sure was affecting him more than he thought.

Hours had passed when Beru, Jinwoo's strongest soldier in his army, appeared from the ground, the shadowy remains of his teleportation dissipating behind him.

With a hand over his heart, he addressed his master. "My liege… They still have not returned home yet. Perhaps you should get some rest."

Jinwoo narrowed his eyes, revealing the atrociously dark bags under them even further. It was even worse than he initially expected. This had even made Beru step back in fear of his master's wrath.

Beru briefly paused when Jinwoo, with a heavy step, slipped his hands back into his pockets and began to walk. "...Alright then. Remind me as soon as [Y/n] is at the door."

Beru nodded once again with his hand over his shadowy heart. "As you wish, my liege."

And he made his way to your and his shared bedroom. The door creaked open softly, revealing an empty bed. For a second, Jinwoo chuckled. You must've been out hanging out with your friends again. Yet, despite the room's quiet, Jinwoo didn't feel sleepy. The worry for your safety lingered in his mind. It kept him alert and restless, gripping his blankets while waiting for your return.

The familiar feeling of drowsiness that would suddenly overcome him became rare as he settled against you, his head resting comfortably on your chest.

Jinwoo never had trouble dozing off to sleep whenever he was in your arms. But without you there, it was all he could ever think of. He's had some horrible sleep lately.

'They'll come soon,' Jinwoo hummed. 'I just know it.'

But an hour passed, and then two. Three would soon follow. Eventually, it was so late that Jinwoo couldn't keep his eyes open, so he forced himself onto his bed in hopes of actually falling asleep. Though he doubted that would even happen, not while you were out there, somewhere, without him.

Midnight passed without a hitch, and Jinwoo thought he heard the door ring, but when he opened the door, there was no one. The sky was still pitch black. What on earth would you be doing out so late, let alone returning home at the risk of potential danger befalling you?

He scoffed. It must've been some kind of ding-dong ditch. And he was dumb enough to fall for it.

Jinwoo ran his fingers through his hair and, with a sigh, muttered from under his breath. "What would [Y/n] think if they saw me like this?"

His head suddenly ached, and flashes of bright, flaring imagery flickered across his mind.

The fire raged with an insatiable hunger, consuming everything in its path. Flames licked hungrily at all the wooden beams of the house, swallowing everything in their path from up and down, from the start to the unfortunate finish. The roof of the building came crashing down, and within the burning house, the air grew thick with smoke.

Outside, onlookers watched in horror. All the while, desperate cries pierced the night. Their pleas were drowned out by the roar of the flames. But there was nothing they could do. No ordinary soul could survive that.

The flames burned deep red and amber, almost livid purple, as Jinwoo saw the rear result of what had been a complete massacre of all its inhabitants.

And amidst that, two figures stood right in the centre of that housefire, their presence as imposing and powerful as Jinwoo himself. Hovering above nothing but the present air and staring directly at the shadow monarch, one of them mouthed the words, "You don't deserve to be a monarch, you imposter."

"Tch…"

That memory.

"...Beru."

The very second his words left his lips, the shadow appeared. With a hand over his chest, he addressed his master. "Yes, my liege?"

Jinwoo narrowed his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me, huh? Were you lazily watching your dramas again?" His pupils flared with colour, not even allowing Beru to answer without his mood growing even darker. "Is that more important than ensuring that [Y/n] is home safe and sound?"

The bug, stiffly standing at attention, remained silent. "I apologize, but there was no one at the d—"

"I don't want to hear it. Now get out of my sight."

Beru's head only dipped lower. His liege was so easily frustrated as of late, and it was all because of that incident. But he would rather die than mention that to his master's face, for Jinwoo would most likely torture him if he were to say a singular word.

He felt pity for their master for succumbing to such mortal feelings.

Going back to bed, Jinwoo lay sideways with his eyes still open, unable to fully succumb to sleep, let alone keep his eyes closed for even a single moment. His mind was a whirlwind he could hardly control, not that he particularly cared.

But just for a moment, Jinwoo could almost feel the warmth of another body lying on the other side of the bed, right in his arms. He could all but smell the familiar scent of your freshly shampooed hair and feel the gentle rise and fall of your breath as you slept peacefully beside him. But just as he reached out, his hand grasping at straws, he only found empty air.

A cruel reminder of your absence.

Jinwoo closed his eyes and sighed deeply. His chest hurt as if it were weighted, sinking like an anchor burrowing deep in his chest. He couldn't get the picture of your face out of his head. Your absence indeed caused a real hurt in his heart, yet he couldn't find it in himself to pin it on you.

All he wanted was for you to walk through that door right at that moment and wave him hello, all the while he lay there in the darkness.

'Ahah… right. What was I thinking?'

Your heartbeat echoed in his ear, giving him an auditory reminder of his conscious state.

'They're right there.'

You existed in his life, and that was all that mattered.

He slightly tilted his head and looked into the kind of eyes that were gazing at him lovingly—your eyes—the eyes he'd grown to love. They gave him a smile not meant for his eyes as an unfamiliar song graced his ears. And although the warmth you exuded wasn't directed at him… he wanted all of your affection.

The tender voice of his significant other echoed in his ears.

"I love you," you chimed, caressing his cheek.

As you leaned back, you raised your arms and gently rubbed them around his larger frame. Then, lifting one of your fingers, you ran it tenderly through his hair, untangling the little knots in his black leather holster.

"I love you too..." he whispered. His gaze softened ever so slightly as a gentle breath blew past. Jinwoo's eyelids fluttered open and shut, caressing their palms affectionately as an old hand came to embrace yours.

But Jinwoo knew all along. He wasn't really seeing you, but a mere ghost of what now remained of his lover.

"Fuck…"

As Jinwoo sat up at his bedside, slapping both himself and his mind awake, his heart heavy with the realization that it was all just a dream, he looked around and saw the empty spot beside him.

"....."

"Damnit…" he cursed under his breath.

It was getting to him. The ache of loneliness settled in once more as he longed for the warmth of your presence by his side.

But wherever he went, all he could see was you.

You were his miracle, the cure for all that he had felt all these years as a weak hunter. Even being an S-ranked hunter couldn't satisfy his pride. All he needed was your affection and love and nobody else's. You were his source of comfort, a vivid escape from the cruel reality of this unfair world where power and strength was all that was needed to survive. But you were living proof that wasn't what he wanted.

It was then that you noticed that glaze in his eyes. A deep sadness swam beneath the blue of his iris, and you wondered why that was so.

"What's wrong, my dear Jinwoo?" Your expression softened, growing worried at seeing his expression. "Is something on your mind? Would you like to talk to me about it? I'm all ears."

Hah…

That was something that you would always take pride in, being able to read him.

He shook his head. "... It's nothing."

A heavy sigh eluded his lips as he turned his head to the woman next to him. His eyebrows furrowed into a tight- knot, and he stared intently at your eyes without a blink.

Your hand caressed his cheek. But the warmth was missing. It felt oddly cold. "Well, if you ever want to talk, I'll always be by your side."

Jinwoo's heart clenched. 'No, you won't…'

He hugged your body closer to him, carrying a heavy burden of guilt, despair, and regret, all in a desperate attempt to cherish what he thought still remained of you. Unbeknownst to him, what he was clutching onto was but a pillow.

It was cold. It was stiff. It was nothing like you. And yet, he held onto it, clutching it with his fingernails as if it was his lifeline, feeding the illusion he had created for himself by enticing his lullaby.

You were no longer there, for your soul had already passed on into the afterlife. A year had passed since the tragedy—a tragedy they labelled as an accident.

But that couldn't have been more false.

That day gave him a false sense of security…

The memories haunted Jinwoo relentlessly since day one. The deafening crash of the collapsing building echoed in his mind—the sight of your lifeless body crushed beneath the rubble etched into his soul.

It haunted him. But deep down, he knew it wasn't an accident. Far from it.

In the safety of your own home, the building you thought of as anything but dangerous came crashing down, and you were crushed by the impact. The monarchs decided it was time to get rid of everything he cared about.

Death. A concept all too familiar to humans.

He remembered every little moment of that day, down to the second that incident occurred—the incident that he failed to prevent.

All because of him.

It was no one’s fault but his own.

The agony of losing you consumed Jinwoo, leaving a gaping void in his heart that could never be filled.

They took you away from him without remorse or justification. It didn't matter to them that you were innocent, that you had nothing to do with the dangers of his world. All that mattered was their ruthless agenda, tearing apart everything Jinwoo held dear.

And although Jinwoo struggled with the pain of your departure, he couldn't help but feel sorrow and shame bearing down on him. If only he had been there to keep you safe and out of danger. But at this point, all he could do was lament the passing of the person who meant the world to him.

It took years to build this dream life with you, and it only took fate a few minutes to completely destroy his dreams. Forever.

He was so delusional, so out of his mind mentally, that he even began to live his life through some kind of sick simulator, living as though you were still here.

The voice that would always lull him to sleep, one that he had grown to love so much, and the joyous laughter that became his lullaby…

He'll do it. Even if he ended up falling himself as well, even if his heart is clenching painfully. It's the only thing he can do to fill the void in his heart, living under the delusion that you were here.

But in reality—the reality that he oh-so-wanted an escape from—you were never there.

For you had long already passed away.

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

#solo leveling x reader #solo leveling #fanfic #fanfiction #solo leveling fanfic #solo leveling sung jinwoo #sl sung jinwo #sl #sl x reader #x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo #solo leveling jinwoo #jinwo x reader #sung jin woo #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwo x you #angst #scenarios

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zerobaselove · 1 day

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a perfect fit | zhang hao

pairing: campus crush! zhang hao x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 3409

warnings: minor swearing probably? lowercase intended, not proofread

prompts: 4. "what do you want?" "you" 5. "i want to help you, so please, let me." 11. "is that my sweater?"

notes: combined a hao prompt request (i changed the phrasing of 4 a little bit IMSORRY) with a campus crush! hao request and came up with this,,, honestly longer than i was expecting and somehow shorter than i wanted it to be ?? idk.. anyways geology major! hao you are dear to me (i want him so bad i'm clawing at the walls of my enclosure) hope you all enjoy <3

college was stressful. you knew it would be, it had to be expected. but what you didn’t expect was that the hardest part wasn’t the coursework or the seemingly constant stack of homework sprawled across your desk; it was actually paying attention in your classes.

how were you supposed to focus on mantle convection when three rows down was arguably the prettiest boy you had ever seen in your whole life. zhang hao.

you only had a few classes together, but coincidentally, due to your wandering eyes those happened to be the classes you were falling behind in. and he was to blame.

truth be told, it seemed everyone had some sort of campus crush on the boy; between the way he dressed and carried himself and the way he always managed to be at the top of every class, just about everyone either wanted to be him or be with him. and you couldn’t blame them in the slightest.

zhang hao was someone to admire from afar; across the lecture hall or the path between buildings. so when he ended up in a study group you had joined in an attempt to graduate with a respectable grade, you were dumbfounded, what was someone like him doing in a study group for a class he was passing with flying colours? maybe it was charity work, you convinced yourself.

the study group was only so effective for you, with zhang hao in the group you couldn’t focus, yet again. it was too hard to not notice the way he fidgeted with the pen in his hand or the way he doodled small animals in the corners of the paper. or the way he leaned over a fellow classmate as he helped them with a particularly complicated question in the textbook.

you were doomed.

——

after a few weeks of no progress, you were just about to give up. maybe i’ll just drop out and work at a department store or something. you told yourself as you crouched down outside the library you all studied in.

sure, you were being a little dramatic. but you were one question away from bursting into tears as you walked out of the study group an hour early. the embarrassment of leaving paled in comparison to crying in front of the boy who had been your reason to showing up to class some days.

“are you okay?” the question pulled you out of your pity party, looking up to see the tall male in front of you. he gave you a worried look at your curled up frame leaned against the brick. “i’m just feeling a little stupid,” you tried to laugh, a dry husk of humour pushing past your lips.

the boy didn’t respond right away, opting to crouch beside you as he sat down on the concrete right next to you. if you weren’t so stressed about your academics right now, you probably would’ve been a stuttering mess at the close proximity. maybe you would’ve even noticed the scent of his cologne. but all you could do in that moment was frantically wipe your eyes and attempt to not look as pathetic as you felt.

his eyes softened as he watched your hands rest on top of your knees, “you’re not stupid,” he said, a sweet tone in his voice, comforting even, “it’s a difficult class, everyone has been struggling.” his kind words tugged at your heart more than you’d care to admit.

“but everyone else seems to be getting it eventually.” you sniffled, concentrated on the tears threatening to spill again, “and i just keep slipping further and further behind.” you let out a heavy sigh, “i’m never gonna catch up at this rate.”

you almost forgot the boy was even sitting there, silently listening to your troubles. “shit sorry,” you let out a pitiful laugh, “i didn’t mean to drag you into being my therapist.”

he shook his head, a smile spreading across his face, “it’s okay, i’m glad you told me.” he turned his head towards you, “how about we make a deal?”

you only tilted your head in curiosity, urging him to continue his train of thought.

“you let me tutor you from now until exams. if you pass, then we both win, and if you don’t, then at least you tried your best.”

the offer was sweet, but you couldn’t help but wonder why zhang hao of all people would take time out of his days to tutor you.

“what’s in it for you?” you let a small smile break out across your face, the first in what felt like weeks.

“well,” he pretended to ponder for a moment, “maybe i just want to pass my knowledge onto someone.” you couldn’t help but laugh at the reason as he continued.

“and maybe, this can double as a way to make a new friend, if you’d want.”

sure. “friend” had no real implications of anything beyond a good acquaintance. but you almost choked at the disbelief. the university’s sweetheart, zhang hao wanted to be your friend? the boy you had spent the better part of the last two months trying to tear your eyes off of while your professor droned on about chemical reactions and the composition of rocks.

“are you sure? i don’t wanna take up too much of your time and-“ he cut you off before you could finish. “i wouldn’t offer it if i wasn’t sure,” he smiled gently, “i want to help you, so please, let me.”

you pondered the offer for a moment again. maybe it was the prospect of spending more time with him, or maybe it was just the idea of finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel that was this class, but you had made up your mind.

“deal.” your smile widened as you stuck out a hand, his own coming out to shake yours as he mirrored your expression.

this was going to be interesting.

——

your one on one study sessions had only been going on for a few weeks but you were already starting to grasp the concepts more with zhang hao’s help. “just call me hao.” you recall him insisting on multiple occasions, unaware of the way your brain would try and twist the intimacy behind it. just friends, you had to remind yourself, that was all you two would ever be, and that was honestly more than you ever could have expected.

“hao,” the name rolling off your tongue, “it’s getting late, can’t we wrap this up?” you whined, pouting a little in hopes of getting sympathy from the boy. as smiley as he was, he was also quite the hard-ass when it came to studying.

“one more question and then we can be done for tonight, deal?” he smiled, gesturing to the last practice question from this page. you let out a huff as you mumbled an acceptance of the deal, grabbing your pencil once again as you wrote out the explanation, scouring your brain for the scientific phrases to communicate your thoughts.

zhang hao looked over your final answer with a content hum, his hand coming over to ruffle your hair, “good job, you’re getting the hang of this.”

you stiffened at the contact and praise, you had never really gotten validation like that, especially not from someone like him, and your brain was running with it.

when you originally agreed to this arrangement you hoped that maybe it would be your way to get over your little campus crush on the boy sitting next to you, but it had only gotten worse, and you were slowly losing it. taking a moment to shake the thoughts from your mind, you started gathering your stuff up to leave, as was zhang hao.

“don’t forget you’re stuck with me tomorrow too, y/n!” he chuckled lightly before saying his farewells and leaving first, rushing off to meet up with his friend; you were sure he mentioned his name once before, ricky maybe? something like that.

you only nodded as you waved, grabbing your jacket off the back of the chair and slinging your backpack over your shoulder, but then something caught your eye; a light blue hoodie draped across the back of the back of the chair next to you. zhang hao’s sweater. the boy was already long gone, and based on how often he was sporting the hoodie, you assumed it was one of this favourites, so you couldn’t just leave it here. “i’ll just give it back to him tomorrow.” you mumbled to yourself, picking up the sweater and resting it over your arm.

when you got back to your dorm you folded the sweater nicely on your desk, right in your view so you wouldn’t forget it tomorrow. as much as you tried to ignore it, that night you couldn’t help but notice the warm citrus scent of his cologne, and you swore you could smell it in your dreams that night.

——

the next day was a brisk spring day, the warm air having been replaced by a crisp, almost cold, breeze. to say you had not dressed properly was an understatement, you thought to yourself as you walked across the campus towards the library. in a moment of weakness as you called it, or rather a moment of strong winds, you took it upon yourself to throw the pale blue hoodie over your frame. he wouldn’t mind too much right?

sitting at your usual table in the library, you set up your many papers and textbooks, not paying attention as the boy you had grown close to approached the table, a little out of breath.

“sorry i’m late,” he breathed out, catching his breath after seemingly running here.

“it’s okay, i was early,” you laughed, finally looking up at the boy who’s cheeks were flushed light pink.

you watched as his gaze traced your figure, taking notice of the sweater you were wearing, “is that my sweater?”

now it was your turn to flush a shade of pink, trying to form a sentence as you stuttered through excuses, “oh, i’m sorry,” an awkward laugh escaped your lips, “it’s just you left it here yesterday and so i was bringing it to give back to you but it was colder outside than i thought it was and so i put it on on the way here without really thinking, i can give it back right now,” you barely stopped to take a breath, “or i can go wash it and then give it back if you’d prefer.” your train of thought was stopped by his hand on top of yours, your mind going from a million miles a minute to frozen solid in mere moments.

“it’s okay y/n,” he chuckled at your flushed expression as he sat down next to you, “it looks cute on you anyways.” he said simply, moving his gaze to the textbooks in front of you as he flipped to the pages you were on the day before.

this boy was going to be the death of you.

——

something in the air seemed to change after that day, and it wasn’t just the scent of the blooming cherry blossoms in the breeze. something had changed with you two, and perhaps that was how the two of you ended up in your dorm room rather than the library, and on a saturday of all days.

“what homework have you got for me today teacher zhang hao?” you joked, leaning back on the arms as you sat on the end of your bed, looking at the boy who sat comfortably in your desk chair.

“aren’t i allowed to just hang out with my friend without talking about plate tectonics?” he said, a joking sarcasm lacing his tone.

you only laughed in response as you tried to control your heart beating out of your chest at the simple, friendly, term.

before you knew it, the day had faded into night in a blur of laughter and conversation; real conversation. it was a nice change of pace, and as much as you hated to admit it, the more you got to know him, the more your campus crush had changed into just a genuine crush.

you tried to ignore it, but it was so hard to ignore the comfort you felt being around him, how easy it was to slip into conversations and how easy he made you laugh. how were you supposed to not think about that.

and much to the dismay of your heart, these weekend hangouts had become a sort of routine. on top of seeing him most weeknights at the library, your interactions had spilled into the weekends quite seamlessly. whether it was just having a movie night in your dorm room, wandering campus during sunset, or even just doing normal young adult things like going shopping. the two of you had even gotten into the habit of accompanying each other on errands just to keep the other company.

it was nice, you couldn’t lie, but the domestic activities made it that much harder to separate your romantic and platonic feelings for the boy.

and here you were, awaiting the arrival of the boy on a saturday night. every time your phone lit up you rushed to grab it, just in case it was from hao, the casual name becoming more natural over the weeks.

this time it actually was a message on your screen, you found yourself quickly unlocking your phone to see what it said. “i’m going to stop at the store on my way over,” the text read, “do you want anything?”

before the voice of reason in your head could object, you typed back a quick response, “you.” simple, straight forward, to the point. everything you weren’t. it was already too late to cover up your boldness as you watched the typing bubble appear, in sync with the wave of anxiety and near nausea that washed over you.

“you think you can afford me?” he joked back, rolling with the conversation more smoothly than you ever could have, evidently. you typed back a quick laugh, hoping he wouldn’t see the truth behind your original response, “probably not, maybe i’ll just take some gummy worms.” you replied before nearly throwing your phone across the cramped room.

and to think, you were stuck with him all night.

——

you tried to focus on the movie, you really did, but the all too familiar feeling of wandering eyes and a racing heart took over your senses, and who could blame you? it wasn’t every day you found yourself sharing a blanket with the prettiest and kindest boy you’d ever known. you almost wondered if he could feel the heat radiating from you, or if he would just blame it on the fuzzy blanket covering your legs. you hoped it would be the latter.

soon enough the credits were rolling and you finally pulled yourself from the thoughts spinning around your mind, just in time for hao to turn to you with a smug smile. “you didn’t pay attention to any of that movie, did you?” the question caught you so off guard you actually choked a little on the sharp intake of breath. was it that obvious? you wondered. you really had to work on your expressions it seems.

“what’s on your mind y/n?” the smooth, almost teasing tone in his voice would’ve probably made your knees give out had you not already been sat down in your bed.

you managed to stutter out a response, rather reminiscent of the first real conversation you two had months prior. “oh it’s, uhm,” you quickly tried to come up with a believable excuse, settling on possibly the worst one, “it’s nothing.” the stiff laughter did nothing to help your case as he grinned at you knowingly, hopefully not too knowingly.

“so i’m nothing now?” he feigned offense as his hand came up rather dramatically to his chest. “i thought i meant more to you than that, y/n.” he teased, obviously enjoying watching the gears turn in your brain as you attempted to process the conversation that was happening.

busted.

there was no coming back from it now and you knew it, and more importantly, he knew it. at some point he had picked up on your lingering gaze, your quick glances that you thought had gone unnoticed. all there was left for you to do was either admit your growing feelings, or play dumb about the whole thing. and somehow you decided the latter was the smartest option.

“i, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about.” another forced laugh pushed past your lips, getting past your thumping heart on the way out.

it seemed that your reaction filled zhang hao with a new sense of confidence, because he did the last thing you expected him to do; lean in. not close enough for your lips to graze each other, but close enough to feel his breath on you, to feel the heat radiating off of your faces. close enough to feel the thick tension in the air, but you were sure anyone could feel that if they were here, you could even cut it with a knife.

“i think you know exactly what i’m talking about,” he smiled, your eyes darting down to his lips that were only a couple inches from your own before looking back to his eyes; warm and inviting.

you weren’t sure what to say anymore, and so you made the bold decision to close the gap; only briefly, but long enough to taste the cherry lip balm that coated his lips, to feel the way his lips fit against yours. like tectonic plates.

what started as one chaste kiss turned into 2, and then 3, and then a gentle kiss of yearning, of waiting, accompanied by his soft hands on your cheeks. you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, his soft hands feeling like silk against your burning skin. you could feel him smile into the kiss as your body eased, relaxing into a rhythm. time slowed and suddenly the two of you were the only people in the world, the boy in front of you filling all of your senses. zhang hao. zhang hao. zhang hao. your brain echoed as you pulled away, giddy smiles plastered across both of your faces.

“is that what you were on about?” you smiled, your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes flickered between his lips and his eyes once again.

he let out a small laugh, “what do you think?” he sat back against the wall once again, admiring the way the glow from the tv illuminated your skin, and the way you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face. “i thought you’d never do something about it.” he laughed again, this time grabbing your hand lazily.

“listen,” you started, “i didn’t think you noticed, and i was okay to keep it that way,” you looked down at your interlocked hands, your mind silently replaying the last 5 minutes on a loop, rendering yourself no better than a broken record. “you’re the zhang hao, everyone has at least a bit of a crush on you, so why would i assume i had any chance.”

he shook his head as a proud smile spread across his face, “everyone?” he asked, leaving you to lightly smack his arm, a small yelp coming from the boy. “okay okay, no need to smack me,” he laughed, “but really, you thought you didn’t have a chance? why would i have offered to tutor you if i didn’t have at least a bit of an interest in you?”

you let yourself ponder for a moment, looking back on the now distant memory. “i just thought you were being nice!” you stated matter-of-factly, earning another giggle from the boy, you could get used to that sound, or rather, being the reason behind it.

he merely smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips, “well i’m not nice like this to anyone else, if that helps make it more clear.”

“good,” you mirrored his smile, taking in the beauty that was the boy in front of you, the boy who seemed to fit with you like the tectonic plates.

“because i don’t think i could handle the idea of you spending your wednesday nights talking about rocks with anyone else.”

#zerobaseone #zerobaseonefics #boys planet #boys planet fics #boys planet reactions #kpop #boys planet drabbles #zb1 #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 drabbles #zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone x reader #zerobaseone drabbles #zhang hao imagines #zhang hao x reader #zerobaselove

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strawberrystepmom · 16 hours

Text

pairing: Suguru Geto x F!Reader

word count: 9.7k

contents: Canon compliant up to the events of JJK0, cult leader!Suguru, naive reader, slight age difference between reader and Geto (5 years), reader can see curses/has cursed energy but it is kept intentionally vague

cw: dark content | emotional manipulation, dubious consent, voyeurism, oral sex (m!receiving), spit, violence, descriptions of anxiety, mentions of religion and religious imagery, mind fuck-y

notes: so this is a remaster/full repost of unkindness that was on my old blog! i only got up to like the third segment in that post so i figured why not do it all at once. thank you for reading if you do and i hope that you enjoy my little story! ♡ | crossposted to ao3

When you were eight years old, sitting in your mother’s lap as she combed through your wet hair, you remember telling her about a recurring dream you had been having for weeks. You were nervous to tell her, your little hands balled into fists as they rested against your nightgown clad thighs.

“A raven,” you recount to her as she nods and gently uses the bristles of the comb to detangle a knot. “Bigger than any bird I’ve ever seen is in this dream every night, flying around over my head.” Your mother sighs and reassuringly pats your head. You hear the spritz of a spray bottle from behind you, a synthetic green apple scent filling your nostrils.

Telling her filled your stomach with anxiety, an issue you didn’t know you had at the time. You figured the world was just scary back then. You wish you could go back and tell yourself how right you were. About how scary the world is, anyway. To tell yourself about how everything will eventually end up likely wouldn’t change the outcome but at least you could say a few things.

“The raven comes to the ground eventually. He doesn’t fly over your head forever, instead he glides by your side.”

“The visions you’ve seen are real, you aren’t crazy.”

The most unbelievable thing of all?

“You end up in love and you end up losing yourself along the way.”

Back then though, you only had your mom and her words to illuminate the darkness you felt lurked around every corner.

“Have you ever heard of omens?”

Shaking your head, you turn to look at your mom who is tapping the edge of the comb against the heel of her hand. She’s chewing the inside of her cheek and you can tell she’s deciding what to say next to comfort you. Your mom has never been good at this kind of thing, a woman who never envisioned she would have a child with so much angst and fear.

“Sometimes we receive signs that something is going to happen in our lives even if we don’t understand them,” she starts. You hear her mouth open, as if she wants to add something additional, but you hear it snap shut as if she thought better of it. You nod once, signaling your understanding and she gets back to work at the stubborn tangle at the base of your skull without another word shared between the two of you.

You hate that this is the most vivid memory from your childhood.

You hate that you still have the dream.

You wake with a gasp, looking around and blinking as warm morning light filters through the window. Feeling around the bed, you wonder if Suguru is already up and moving for the day as your hands touch the duvet where he should be. It’s cold, as if nobody was there in the first place. Knowing that may have been the case anyway, you sigh and rub your hands over your face.

“Suguru?”

His name leaves your lips in a tentative manner and you look around the room to make sure he isn’t looking at the early morning sun or standing there watching you sleep. No matter how much of your life you spend with him, you’ll never get used to the feeling of those black diamond eyes following you everywhere you go. But finally, you are seen.

Four years spent with him and no one sees you like he does.

You were 18 years old, a few months from graduating high school, when Suguru approached you. The sight of a stranger raised your hackles, scared of the world at large at that point in your life, and you were concerned trouble was coming for you. All of the omens in your dreams would finally come true at the hands of this beautiful man, rising to his full height which is nearly towering over you. His hair was shorter then than it is now, just past his shoulders and tied in a neat half bun off of his face.

He looked like less of a god now than he did then but you knew it. The omnipresent feeling of him sticks in your bones. It’s the confidence that makes you stand with your back straight, that guides you through the worst of the days where he’s nowhere to be found.

Unable to find him, you shuffle back to the futon and lay down amongst blankets that smell like him. You’ve never been able to place the scent but you know it’s his. Wrapping yourself in the duvet, you let your mind wander back to all of those years ago.

“I know this seems sudden but I wanted to ask you about your gift.”

Mention of your gift, not that you’d ever call it that, makes you freeze. He notices your expression, wide eyed and haunted, and he fights the urge to smile at you. Just as he and everyone else suspected, you have no idea what you’re capable of. It would be a failing worthy of death to let Gojo find you first. Suguru couldn’t risk the bird dog finding his canary and dropping her off, bloodied and broken, on the doorstep of the Sorcerer community.

He wouldn’t allow it.

“M..my gift?” You repeat with uncertainty and he nods, bun bobbing against the back of his head as he does so. The situation is withering, a handsome stranger asking you about a secret you’ve kept hidden for your whole life while the sun beats down and makes you sweat. You wonder if you’re about to be killed.

“You are an exceptional young woman, do you know that?”

The background noise of the world fades out, the sound of the spring birds chirping disappearing as you blink once, twice, and you notice those dark eyes fixated on you. You blanch and avert your eyes. Were you even allowed to look at him? Dressed in such nice clothing with such a regal demeanor? Shaking your head, you play off the awkwardness with a humorless chuckle.

“You must be looking for someone else, sir.” Bowing your head as a sign of respect, you turn to walk away. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

Before you can turn on your heel to walk away, you feel a large palm rest on your shoulder. You take note of the weight of it, the feel against your bones, and you wonder why this is happening to you? You are so afraid but you can’t run, you don’t have the guts for it. What do you do now?

Nothing. You do nothing, just as you’ve done your entire life. You let this strange man grab you, hold you, speak to you. Humiliation rises like bile in your throat and you turn to face him, astounded again by his beauty. The sunlight catches his dark eyelashes, warmth emanating from him. How can you walk away? You won’t walk away.

“I don’t want this to be more strange than it already is,” he starts, voice deep and dreamy. You could get lost in the baritone and the way it wraps around you but you choose instead to focus on his words to try and understand what he wants from you. “But I know you have something nobody else has. Abilities.”

He’s correct but you wonder how he could possibly know about your struggles. You have kept them to yourself for years even to the detriment of your own well being. Your mother and father both assume you’re deranged and there are times where you’ve wholeheartedly agreed with them since you began seeing the things that haunt you at every turn when you were 5.

“How do you know about that?”

The man shakes his head and holds his free hand ahead of him. “Why don’t you walk with me and we can talk some more?”

How can you say no with his hand on your shoulder? Turning on your heel to face him, you keep quiet and wait for further instructions. Your naturally submissive tendencies are serving you well in this situation and Geto doesn't hide his smug smile. You are perfect and he knew it.

As the two of you begin to pick up pace walking side by side, you anxiously keep your eyes glued to the ground. Being able to visualize each of your steps is keeping you calm and if you look down, there's less of a chance you'll see whatever is out there to scare you.

"Look at me."

He doesn't ask, he commands, and you listen. For the first time, you notice something perching on his shoulder. It's formless for the most part and less terrifying than what you usually see attached to others as they pass by you but you're intrigued nonetheless.

"Do you know about that....thing?" Pointing to his shoulder, he nods at you and you breathe a sigh of relief. "You see them also?"

A chuckle is his response and you ponder what it means while you wait for him to clear up your confusion. "I don't just see them, I control them."

The figure disappears quickly and you gasp, searching around your own feet and your shoulders to make sure he didn't order it in your direction to harm you.

"How?"

Despite your trepidation, Suguru can see the way that your eyes sparkle at the thought of someone being like you. He knows how it felt for him, too.

"I can show you and so can my friends." He watches your nose scrunch in confusion at his words and he laughs, amused. The sound is musical and uplifting and you feel yourself lightening up for the first time maybe in your entire life. Knowing you aren't alone has shifted your perspective more than you realized it would.

"There are more of you?"

"A couple dozen, yeah."

Nodding, you think for a moment. What if he can actually help you? What if these people are actually like you? What if you can find a place that suits you for the first time in 18 whole years?

"How can you help me?"

The man turns to you, knowing smirk in place across his mouth. “I can show you better than I can tell you.”

You hate her.

Never in your life has such a bitter feeling gathered in the pit of your stomach. Your face flames every time Manami walks by, you can feel it and you know she can see it. Tonight, you are more glad than ever to be on kitchen duty even if it means having to listen to her cackle from the other side of the wall.

“Geto-sama!”

She sing-songs across the tatami with a giggle as Suguru traipses by en-route to have dinner with the group, seating himself at the head of the table as everyone else files in around it. You fight the urge to roll your eyes from where you’re standing next to Mimiko and Nanako, pouring hojicha into tea cups.

“Geto-sama,” you mock under your breath and Nanako giggles, dishing rice into bowls at your side. The two of you giggle together, a secret shared, as she begins to bring the dishes to the table for service. Sorting your tea cups, you count how many more servings you need as you look around the doorframe to see who is waiting.

Your relationship with Geto’s most trusted inner circle has expanded greatly since you first arrived months ago.

They knew better than to be outwardly distrustful of you. Aside from the twins, every one of them had set out to find Suguru and his group on their own. He found you. He brought you. He touted your abilities long before you arrived.

“She’s the perfect blank slate,” he gushed over dinner one night as the other members of the group listened enraptured. “We got to her just in time, too. My source says that Gojo was planning on paying her a visit.”

Your arrival was underwhelming. Greeted at the end of the footpath that leads to the front door by Miguel, Larue, Mimiko, and Nanako while Manami glowered from the porch with folded arms, you weren’t immediately made to feel welcome by anyone except for Suguru who continued to guide you along the property with your arm looped in his. She was scoping you out, taking an assessment. She believed you to be no threat. She believed wrong.

Tinkering with the last cup on the counter, you take one look into the dining room again and the realization that your usual spot is full makes you chuckle humorlessly. Not that you’re surprised, Manami has done all but piss all over Geto to mark her territory but the sight makes a bitter, sour feeling turn in your guts just the same. Your nose scrunches as if you’ve smelled something bad and you don’t immediately hear when someone else enters the kitchen to pick up the tea cups you are still filling.

“About ready?”

The voice you recognize as belonging to Mimiko calms you and you respond with a nod, wrapping your hand around the warmest cup as you take a breath and plaster a smile on. This one goes to the man himself and you feel eyes upon you as you offer it to him with a bow. His hand lingers on top of yours for a moment and you’re glad your face is pointed toward the ground, your flustered look hidden as long as you don’t make eye contact.

“We’re just waiting on you,” he chides lightly, always a stickler for timeliness. You lift your head to his view enough to offer an apologetic half smile. He pats the side of your face with his tea-warmed hand and your smile grows. Your eyes meet his rich, umber colored pair and you feel at peace. “Manami will be out of your spot by the time you get back.”

A small “oooooooh” breaks out around the table but the tension is quickly killed with a sharp look from Suguru. Everyone quietly begins shuffling their utensils and you don’t stick around to watch Manami’s rejection, scurrying back to the kitchen to gather your own rice and tea.

“I want to share a few moments after dinner, if you’d all like to stick around.”

Suguru’s words inspire nods and happy, affirmative hums and you catch the tail end of them as you settle next to him at the table. Your opposition glares icily from the other end of the table, the same look she kept plastered on her face the day you arrived, and you meet her eyes long enough to offer a sweet smile before bowing your head in thanks for the meal you were about to share.

“I’d especially like for you to stay,” he looks across the table at Manami who nods once before turning back to her plate. Her lips are pursed and her eyebrows are knit together in irritation but smugness glimmers in her eyes. “You too,” he says and you turn your head to see him glancing down at you. Fondness crinkles the corners of his eyes slightly and you shrink into yourself with a nod and a shy smile. “Of course.”

The rest of dinner goes as you’ve come to expect. The twins giggle and joke with every other member of the group and you all sit beneath the watchful eyes of your leader who sips at his own tea with a barely visible over the edge of his cup smirk but you can see it from where you sit. You can see the corners of his mouth upturned just enough it makes your heart flutter in your chest.

He looks down at you and thinks about how vulnerable you look. How little you hide, your emotions and yourself alike. Were you like this before he met you or is this his influence? He takes credit. He knows the way you flash fake nice shit eating grins in Manami’s direction is for his sake. His sweet little bird isn’t afraid to fight and he hoped that would be the case.

“Since we’re all here, I wanted to discuss a few things,” Geto clears his throat and sets his cup on the table in front of him. He basks as he feels every eye in the room turn toward him but none make him feel more intoxicated than yours. When he casts you a glance, you smile shyly. He wonders if you’ll do that forever, look at him as if he’s a savior on a big white horse. He hopes so.

“I want to make some changes in what we’ll all be doing around here,” his voice rings proud and clearly and you fight the urge to prop your head up with your hand girlishly to get a better look at him. A few people shift in their seated positions but you don’t glance around to find out who, gaze fixed upon the person you want to witness the most.

“Manami, your duties are changing.” Replacing the sound of shifting clothing is small gasping and murmuring. Manami has been Geto’s assistant for close to two years, a coveted spot amongst anyone in the group. “You will still be my personal assistant but only for off compound events and daytime hours.”

Grateful for your own refusal to look at the rest of the table, you can tune out the uncomfortable chatting. “I know this may be surprising but we have many things ahead of us we need to prepare for,” he starts and the noise quiets. “Manami is one of the brightest among us and she will excel no matter what she’s doing.”

Hearing him praise someone else makes your back stiffen, the urge to pick at the seam of your t-shirt making your fingers twist in the fabric idly. You’re grateful your grip is beneath the table, hidden from view. No one will suspect how you feel as long as you’re careful but you gasp as you feel two large, soft hands untangle your fingers from your shirt and squeeze them between their palms. Looking up you’re greeted by the handsome, vulpine smile of Geto and you feel another gentle squeeze of your hands.

You take a deep breath and ground yourself, focusing on his words as he opens his mouth.

“You will be my new on-premises and evenings assistant.” Despite your shock and the look on your face that shows it clear as day, you nod. “I would love to,” you clarify and he squeezes your hands once more as he rises and drops your clammy fingers back into your lap.

Standing at his full height, Geto smiles as he looks over the faces of everyone sitting around him. Even Manami is working to hide her pout, looking toward the ground but keeping a smile plastered on her face. You sit with your legs tucked beneath you, a shred of hope illuminating parts of you that you once saw as dark and empty.

You get to spend most of your day with Geto, most of your evenings too. Perhaps in that time he will finally have the opportunity to tell you about your gift. In 6 months you’ve learned as much as you knew the day you arrived but that may be soon to change. Giddiness makes you smile slightly, your face beaming as you keep it looking up.

Suguru extends his hand in your direction and your smile grows wider. Gingerly placing your palm in his, he helps you rise as he places his hands on either side of your face. You strain your neck glancing up at him, you’re only chest level or so to his massive form and you can feel him using his grip on your cheeks to lower your head. Once you’re gazing at the floor his lips graze your forehead and you gasp, fire erupting through your limbs.

“I’m going to teach you so much,” he coos as he uses his grip to turn your face back toward him. His eyes drink in the sight of you - the tip of your nose, the shape of your lips, and he smirks so quickly you swear you only imagined it. His thumbs graze your cheeks before he drops his grip and looks over your head at everyone else. That tall, dark shadow rests directly over you, though.

“You’re all dismissed, thank you for a lovely evening.”

Everyone stands and you stay facing Geto until all of the footsteps have filed out, waiting for his permission to leave next. You flinch slightly when his hands grip your face again, a natural reflex to the surprise of his touch, and he gazes at you silently for so long you stop keeping time. It could have been seconds, it could have been days - you will never know but you will accept it nevertheless.

“Come see me tomorrow morning,” he whispers and you nod. You can see his eyes flit from your eyes to your mouth and you wonder what he’s thinking. He dips his head slightly and you can feel his lips brush gently against yours, a kiss almost too small to be qualified as one. You shiver, his thumbs digging into the plump flesh of your cheeks.

“Yes sir.”

“Say that again,” he mutters against your lips. The vibrations of his words are directly on your skin and the heat that erupted in your limbs before has become a full blown fire, your face hot and your palms sticking together. “Yes sir.”

He presses another kiss to your forehead and releases his grip, straightening his back out as he walks toward the door and offers you a bow of his head. “Get some rest.”

You make certain he’s gone before you touch your fingers to your lips, your eyes fluttering shut as you commit the feel of his soft mouth on yours to memory. You won’t be sleeping tonight.

“Geto-sama?”

The sound of your meek voice alerts Suguru to your presence and he looks up from his usual place by the open sliding door between his room and the porch attached to it, a light breeze blowing his hair off of his shoulder. He looks ethereal and resembles a hero from a book you obsessively read as a child. Rescuing a sweet young woman from a life marred by sadness, the hero hauls her off to a place where she can be happy.

The irony isn’t lost on you.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” you start, clasping your hands together in front of you and he rises to standing, elegance exuding from him even in the most mundane of situations. He approaches you and gently rubs the back of your head and you fight the urge to lean into the touch. No amount of him feels like enough.

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” he responds with a serene smile, one you’ve noticed is just for you. He doesn’t smile at anyone else like that, not even Manami, and smugness rises in you for a split second before he speaks again. “What can I do for you?”

Clearing your throat, you look toward the ground and keep your hands linked. Geto recognizes the posture, something you do frequently when you want to speak, and he waits with his own hands joined inside of the sleeves of his yukata robes. He loves how naturally you submit to him, how you won’t even meet his eyes.

“Why am I here?”

If he’s surprised by your question, he doesn’t show it, but he does take a few strides to your side to place a comforting arm around your shoulder. Against your better judgment, you lean against him. Sides pressed together, you’re surprised when you feel the most minuscule squeeze of reassurance. Your heart threatens to burst as he leads you to where he was sitting and invites you to sit across from him, the two of you looking out at the sun setting on the horizon.

“Before I answer,” he adjusts his sitting position and turns to face you. The golden hour warmth hits his face and you swear, not for the first time, you are glancing at a deity. Something, someone, greater than yourself. You shouldn’t be this close to him and you start to spiral but his voice brings you out of your own mind and into reality, your gaze shifting from the ground to him. “Will you tell me why you’re asking?”

Twisting your fingers together and sitting your hands in your lap, you sigh.

You’re uncertain of how much time has passed since you left your old life behind to join him and while you do finally feel at peace with yourself, the natural pull you feel toward the man who brought you here in the first place hasn’t dissipated in the way you expected it to. It feels like an unfulfilled hunger, a need more than a simple want at this point, but how can you begin to tell him that?

“I’m afraid that if I tell you, you’ll see me differently.”

Your words finally get a rise from Suguru and he quirks one of his dark brows. The crack in his cool headed exterior makes you giddy - is that because of you? You’re dumbfounded when his posture changes and he scoots closer to you, your knees nearly touching his. Should you pick yours up and press them against your chest? To quell your own anxiety, you decide to follow his lead. You will only move if he does.

“Nothing you say will change my opinion of you.” He reaches out and touches your knuckles with the tips of his fingers and you feel heat rise through every inch of your body. The touch makes you feel emotional and you break the intense eye contact between the two of you to stare at the ground, hoping it will hide the tears that are threatening to spill down your lash line. “I brought you here.”

Nodding, you lift your still joined fists together and wipe your eyes and down your cheek with the back of one of your hands. Although you are still looking down, you can see Geto moving from your periphery and you wonder what he’s going to do next.

Concerned your display is upsetting him, you sit still and try to regulate your breathing to keep from sobbing but errant tears still flow. You feel Suguru’s finger before you realize what’s happening and you flinch slightly beneath his touch as he wipes the wet tracks off of your skin. He wipes his finger along the fabric of your yukata robe before wrapping both of your fists in one of his much larger hands.

“Please be honest with me.”

Thinking back to what prompted this need for confirmation of what you mean to him, you dig your nails into your palm until you’re certain marks will be left. Manami, someone who spends almost as much time around Geto as you do, comes into your mind and you gnaw on your lower lip as you think about the jealousy churning in your gut. Why does she get to be there to help him make decisions? Why does she get to watch while he’s in meetings? Why did you see her leaving his room last week, hours before dawn?

Knowing it should be you is the emboldening thought you need to open your mouth.

“Do I mean anything to you?”

Feeling him squeeze your fists, the palm of his hand warm and comforting, you release the breath you’ve been holding. For better or worse, you’re about to find out and although your mind is racing, willing yourself to be calm comes easy in his presence. As if you needed further confirmation of everything he has done for you at a moment when you’re demanding something you feel unreasonable for wanting.

“You mean everything to me, you’re our future.”

His confirmation makes you weep. Tears flow freely, dripping down your cheeks and they hit the knuckle of Suguru’s thumb. You should feel guilty, you think, for putting him in a position to have to answer to you but cannot bring yourself to do it. You shouldn’t have had to wait more than a year to know but forgiveness is easy when it comes to him. If anyone should be sorry it’s you for questioning him in the first place and so you begin to ask for forgiveness.

“I’m so sorry for asking, Geto-sama.”

You feel him pulling you into his lap, his strong hands wrapping around your hips and the blood rushes into your face. Perching with uncertainty, your bottom rests against his thigh and it feels natural. All of the yearning couldn’t have prepared you for this feeling and you sigh as he brings one of his large hands to cup the back of your neck, his voice so close to your ear it makes goosebumps erupt across your skin.

“Call me Suguru from now on,” he whispers, a secret for your ears only. You feel his lips press against the space where your jaw and neck meet, another secret for the two of you to keep. Everyone on the compound would view you differently if they knew this was happening but you don’t care. You can’t care, not when he’s running his palms up your waist and unfastening your robe.

The opened door with a view of the outside doesn’t concern you as Suguru’s deft fingers work at the knot keeping you decent, the same breeze that rustles his hair that has always reminded you of feathers blowing across your bare chest as the robe is worked down around your waist. Your nipple stiffens and Geto reaches to pinch it between his thumb and index finger, making you yelp.

“How long have you wanted this, my little bird?” He wonders aloud and you almost feel as if he isn’t speaking to you at all, he merely wants you to listen and to witness. “Since you met me?”

He knows the truth just as he knows the way you’re looking at him. Eyes lidded, cheeks puffed out, lips wet with your own spit. You’re never going to leave his side.

“Tell me the truth,” he pinches your nipple once more and you arch your back, lip jutting out at the roughness of the feeling. Nobody has ever touched you like this before and the feeling is electric. Despite the fuzziness in your brain, the heady arousal clouding your every thought, you wet your lips with your tongue and speak.

“So long, Suguru.”

He smirks knowingly and lowers his head to suck your breast into his mouth, his warm tongue lapping at your skin. It’s nothing short of heaven, you think. This is how it always should have been. His hands travel from the dip of your waist to your hips, pulling the fabric of your robe further down to expose more of you to his hungry eyes. You reach out toward his face, your fingers tentatively brushing against his lower lip and he releases your nipple from his mouth.

“Can I touch you too?”

Another whisper, another secret. A predatory gleam shines in Suguru’s eyes and you wiggle against his lap, keeping your fingertips pressed against his mouth. He puckers and kisses them gently, reaching to grab your wrist. He places your hand against the bulge beneath his robes, covering your delicate fingers with his own.

“You can,” he uses his grip on your hand to press the heel against his hard cock and he hisses through his teeth. You admire the way his throat looks when his head is tipped back in pleasure, his Adam's apple bobbing. How is everything he does so effortlessly beautiful, you wonder. Your attention is recaptured by his voice. “But first, how long?”

Your wide eyed, parted lip expression only serves as further fuel for the blood pumping between his legs. You look so innocent, the same as you did when he felt the first of your defenses crumble, the day he approached you to come with him. It strikes him as funny that both times, your vulnerability is because he has put his hands on you. Nervously, you shift in his lap and he presses you closer to his body to keep you from going any further.

“Since the first day,” you admit, to him and yourself for the first time. He smirks, molding your hand around his bulge and you squeeze. Another hiss from him is all you want, the noise motivating you to offer yourself further. Using your free hand, you slip out of your robe the rest of the way and for the first time, you're bare to his eyes.

"Look at you." Your face heats and you feel your posture collapse in on itself, shoulders slumping after being so seen. "Show me how well you listen."

His command drips with condescension but you’re too awed to notice. When you nod, he gently nudges you off of his lap and you tuck your legs beneath you. Watching as he rises, you stay seated and admire the way those same lithe fingers that were just caressing your overheated skin work at the knot in his own robes.

Those dark eyes glance down at where you kneel on the ground and he gently smooths his hand over the top of your head and slides it into place along your cheek to cup your face. Using his grip to force you to look at him, you do and appear dazed. Transfixed, perhaps, would be better.

“I’ve always known,” Geto unfastens the knot in his robe fully and you gasp at the sight of his nude form backlit by dusk right outside the door. He’s tall and broad and you can’t look away. “That you would realize.”

Pumping his hand along his impressive length, you bite your tongue to keep from eagerly interrupting him. You want to touch him so badly, you have to sit on your hands like a child to keep from approaching sooner than you should. Before you can think any further about his words, he walks a few steps and the sticky head of his cock nearly brushes your soft, swollen mouth.

“I knew it was you from the moment we met.”

He hangs his head just low enough that you feel the words are truly meant just for you and you shiver. As you wait for further instruction, he squeezes your cheek and jaw in the palm of his hand. Your eyes don’t leave him once.

Suguru has always prided himself on his ability to break people down - to their core, their most base selves in every sense of the word. Usually there’s a moment where he can see in their eyes that they have been broken, cloudy and glossy. Yours have looked like that since he met you.

“This is what devotion gets you.” His words make you shiver as he uses his free hand to point the head of his cock at your lips, rubbing the sticky tip along your pouty mouth. Sitting still as stone and waiting for his directions, he gently pulls your face toward his pelvis and his tip pops into your mouth. A long, low moan leaves him and you squirm at the sound. “Just relax for me, okay?”

Suguru releases his grip on your cheek and moves to palm the back of your head, fingers finding an easy and natural grasp on your skull. You take a deep breath and look up at him with watery eyes and he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re perfect,” he breathes toward the ceiling and you tense slightly as he uses his grip to move more of his cock between your lips. “Stay relaxed, baby. It’s okay.”

Your head bobs slightly and he groans again and you wonder what it will take to get him to make that noise again, the deep guttural moan sending shockwaves to your clit. You want to rut against something, to feel the pressure release in your stomach and between your legs, but Geto is your first priority.

Experimentally, you dip your face toward the dark hair at the base of his thick cock and you gag a bit as more of his length slips down your throat. The grip on the back of your head tightens and he gasps. Lifting your eyes in his direction for just a moment, you whine at the sight of him with his head thrown back in pleasure. Open mouthed, eyes shut tightly, every muscle in his neck bulging - you love it. If you were a more artistic person, you’d find a way to capture this forever but for now you commit the vision to memory and allow him to thrust his hips so that the remaining length of him dips fully between your lips. The tip of your nose brushes his pubic hair and you moan and gag around his length, tears slipping out of the corners of your eyes. Using the thumb of his free hand, Suguru brushes your tears away and it makes you sob and gag.

“Oh, don’t give up on me now,” he comforts from above, brows furrowed as his hips jerk and your nose continually bumps against his pelvis. Finding a rhythm, he listens to the noises coming from between your lips with every stroke and he feels himself getting closer. His balls tense and his cock twitches and he isn’t willing to prolong the wait any longer than it has already been.

“Open up, keep your tongue out, just like that,” he instructs as he releases his cock from between your lips with a sticky and wet pop, jerking his hand along his spit covered shaft right above your lips and chin and nose. “Stay just like ahhh-,” his words are cut short with a pleasured shout as he shoots translucent ropes of cum across your spit soaked face. A splash lands across your tongue and you note the salty taste - something you’ll associate with just Suguru for as long as you live.

Wrist pumping until he feels fully emptied, he takes a deep breath and covers himself halfway. His lean torso is visible and you feel your cunt throb at the sight and part of you wonders if he’s going to do the same for you - if he’ll kneel between your legs and worship your pussy like he hasn’t had a meal in days.

“Miguel, Manami, you can come in now.”

The deep voice filling your ears makes you scramble to cover yourself with your arms, your breasts and back bare to the open sliding door. The pair make their entrance and you keep your face pointed toward the ground, tears spilling hot down your cheeks. Suguru pats the back of your head as he walks back toward the tatami and sits, patting the spot next to him for you.

“Had some other business to take care of, please forgive my rudeness.”

You stay frozen in place but you can feel the eyes of your compatriots on your sticky face, remnants of Geto clinging to your cheeks.

Days spent on the compound are simultaneously mind-numbingly boring and some of the busiest you’ve ever had.

Each morning, you rise with the sun and watch her from the window that is on the wall opposite where you lie. Most of the time you are on your side, arms wrapped around yourself, in your bed or Suguru’s depending on the events of the evening prior. He most often has you visit him in his quarters and you appreciate the near luxurious gift of privacy on those evenings. It’s far less private in your own room, thin walls separating yourself and whoever is in the room next to yours, although everyone seems to know exactly what Geto uses you for and has since your arrival.

He honors you by allowing you to love him, you remind yourself while the dark thoughts swirling in you churn. They’ll be chased away by the sun and by his presence when he returns to his room where you lay. His side of the futon is empty, already made up as if he were never there, so you allow your mind to wander. If he’s feeling generous, maybe today he will have lunch with you or even better, he’ll finally allow you to begin training your cursed energy into something more than a never-ending sinking feeling in your guts.

He promised you a very long time ago he would help you learn about your own abilities. It seems ungrateful to still long for usefulness considering you know exactly what your role is, yet you can’t help but wish to find this key to understand yourself that seems to always be out of reach.

Tracking the time fell away from you long ago, not long after the first time you were intimate with the man you so dutifully serve. Autumn gave way to winter which faded into a difficult to remember spring followed by the once again balmy days of summer. Again and again and again. Cicadas ring out across the secluded surroundings of the compound morning to night. You blink as they instruct you to rise, singing a tune even more rehearsed than the mechanical beeps of the alarms you used to set on your phone. How long has it been since you’ve had a phone?

Does it matter?

Months or years may have passed but you find that you don’t care all that much. Time passes the same without being able to watch it, a voice that sounds a lot like Geto’s reminds you in the back of your head. You are here forever as part of your purpose to serve his goals and time is just a construct.

When’s the last time you felt like yourself?

Last night, when his satisfaction was the only thing you had to be concerned about, you chide yourself silently. You sound ungrateful to your own ears even if you don’t speak, these endlessly appearing questions becoming more aggravating with each second that passes, and you are annoyed and angry when you rise from Suguru’s bed, re-knotting the tie of your yukata. The shoji is open and he stands just outside of it wearing a cotton robe of his own, sunlight silhouetting him.

He’s a God, you remind yourself, though it doesn’t kill the bitter taste in your mouth the way it usually does. Shuffling toward the door, you take a deep breath and call out his name from inside, his face turning toward you. This makes the bitter taste turn into something sweet you wish to taste again, a soft smile replacing your uncertain frown.

“Good morning,” he calls toward you, sweeping his hand out in front of you to indicate where he’d like you to be. You dutifully follow the wordless instructions and arrive at his side with a smile, squinting in the early morning light.

“Good morning, Suguru. How did you sleep?” Smiling down at you, he gently takes your hand. “As well as I always do when you’re in my bed.”

The compliment and his touch make you feel girlish, heat rising in your face. To be a God’s beloved concubine is an honor, one you rarely take for granted even in your weakest moments. He has given you purpose, motivation, and an understanding you would not have found in a world with people who are unlike you.

Yet that same pit in your stomach lingers. He can tell, narrowing his eyes when he glances at you again though you avert your gaze.

“What’s on your mind?”

A tight smile slips across your face, measured and careful; similar to the one you always give Manami when she’s swearing her devotion to him at dinner or after the congregation. You want to tell him the truth, to open up and make him understand your need to be useful, but the words stick inside of you.

“Nothing, I just didn’t sleep very well.”

It isn’t exactly a lie but he knows that it isn’t the entire truth and his blood runs cold wondering what you’re hiding. You are usually so placid around him, glassy eyes and subdued smiles with averted eyes, but he can feel the anxiety flaring from your body. Are you unhappy? Is the spell he has held over you weakening? Does he need to scare you into reminding you of where your place is, the way he has with so many others?

Tutting gently, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you to his side.

“Speak freely, I value everything you have to say.”

Lulled into a false sense of security, you look at him out of the corner of your eye.

“May I train with you today?”

Suguru laughs, lifting his hand and gently brushing his thumb against your chin. He’s always touching you when it’s just the two of you, hands rubbing your forearms or fingers pressed against your face. He’s a sculptor and what are you if not simply the clay he’s molding beneath his touch, smoothing out edges and reshaping you from the bottom up into something you aren’t sure you recognize anymore which is how he has always intended things to be. His perfect blank slate, he said so many years ago. There isn’t a time where you haven’t proven it to be true even if you need a reminder.

“Why?”

The tone of his voice makes you feel foolish for asking and your sidelong glance turns to the ground beneath you. Subservience is a practice and one you tend to be good at, evidence provided in the form of your refusal to make eye contact even when he begins speaking again.

“I’ll protect you from anything that could hurt you. You know that, right?” He furrows his brow, one of his hands wrapped around your forearm while the other remains on your chin. “You are safe here. Nothing here can or would hurt you, not while you’re in my care. Isn’t that enough for you? You demand training so you can, what? Fight?” Chuckling and finishing with a haughty sigh, he shakes his head. “You don’t have a fight in you, little girl. You never have.”

Defenses faltering, you laugh to yourself and up at him, sensitive eyes once again squinting when faced with the grace of the higher being in front of you. Of course he’s keeping you from having to enter battles you aren’t equipped for, isn’t that what he has been doing this entire time? Protecting you from those shadows that have lurked over your shoulder and kept you from sleeping since you were a child, comforting you, blessing you.

Your rudderlessness isn’t Suguru’s fault, it’s simply your own for assuming you know more than he does.

Nobody knows you like he does. They never will.

“Please forgive me, Geto-sama.”

You call him Suguru in pleasure and Geto-sama in exaltation, raising it to the heavens that put him on the earth. Moving to fall to your knees before him in apology for making him believe his protection isn’t enough, he stops you with a firm hand on your shoulder. His thumb digs into your collarbone, somewhere between painfully and pleasurably, and you remain standing on wobbly feet with a dumbfounded expression.

“I already have. For everything.”

There is so much you’ve done since you’ve arrived, so much to be forgiven for. Questioning him, doubting your place with him, doubting others, speaking with a jealous tongue and thinking poisonous thoughts. You accept his grace with a smile, tears rimming your eyes. You have always been told that forgiveness grants freedom, the wind at your back and the sun on your face. You feel it on this day, gazing up at a man who has saved you time and time again despite your own folly.

Nodding and sniffling, you shut your eyes to stop yourself from open mouthed sobbing in thanks. You don’t deserve this and never have.

“I’m going to tell you something I’ve told nobody else, okay?”

The assertion that he still trusts you despite your disrespect makes you emotional again, eyes opening and tears falling while you nod.

“I love you.”

I love your devotion to me, he means, though you’ll never read between the lines to consider that the truth is that you are just a pawn to a man you’ve dedicated your existence to pleasing. Your body, your words, even the way you enter a room have all been carefully trained to suit him. You’ve been broken by his hands and he is always in a hurry to remake you, fashioning you into something once again useful.

“That’s why you’re here, little bird. To be safe and loved, not to fight or grow jealous or be angry with me. Are you angry with me?” You shake your head quickly, leaning into his touch with furrowed brows. He drops his hand from your chin and wraps his arm around your waist. “Never, Suguru.”

“Then don’t ask about training again, understood? Trust me to take care of you.”

And trust you do, nodding and finally letting that open mouth sob escape. He does a bit more tutting and his large hands paw at your body, yanking at the knot keeping your robe closed, roughly cupping your breast when the fabric falls open. Tears drip down your cheeks and onto the back of his hand, just how he likes it, and his tongue pokes out from between his teeth as he glances down at you.

“Do you trust me?”

This isn’t even close to the first time that he has asked but he needs to know just how many pieces he has smashed you into. He flexes his hand, squeezing your breast, further punctuating the point he’s trying to make - every little bit of you is his to have, to control, to make, to break, to feel.

“More than anything, Suguru, I swear.” Your legs ache to once again fold and bring you to your knees, the way you best know how to prove your regret, but you remain standing, lower lip quivering. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Your apology is a mantra you repeat as his hand dips lower beneath your robe, grazing the soft skin of your stomach and hip. Roughly wrapping a hand around said hip, he pulls you against his body, cold glance locked on your puffy, wet eyes. Despite himself, he smirks down at you, head tilted to the side. His hair is a black curtain that falls over both of you, soft strands resting against your bare torso and arm.

“Do you love me?”

You do not have to think about your answer though it shakes when it leaves your mouth, your lungs begging you to gulp down enough air to replace what you’ve let escape through sobs.

“I love you so much.” You shake your head and sob again. “Please, please believe me”

You feel like a half-formed thing, ready to be made over however he sees fit.

“I believe you, no need to cry,” he assures you, grip on your hip tightening. You breathe through your open mouth and he takes the opportunity to bring his thumb to your face once again, pulling your jaw down and widening your mouth. You know what’s coming next, heat stirring from deep within you despite your sorrow, before he even commands it.

Your tongue lolls out of your mouth and he spits down onto the muscle.You roll it back into your mouth in an instant, grateful for the opportunity to have even the tiniest piece of him in you, his eyes following your throat as you swallow. Communion, consumption of him to purify yourself from the inside out. The ultimate apology until he can use your cunt to fulfill himself later, although he wants to take you now, right here, inviting everyone out to see the work of a master craftsman.

Sobs gradually give way to less powerful sniffles, you squint up at him with your skin exposed and his touch and his hair and his scent and wonder what you were even wishing would happen in the first place. That he’d train you to do what, exactly? This is what you were meant to do.

“Do you feel better?”

You nod and he smiles down at you, the same measured smirk he always wears. He leans down and kisses your forehead, pulling up the sleeve of your robe to give you some semblance of modesty but leaving it open as he ushers you back inside, sliding the shoji shut behind him. Suguru crowds you into the room, leading his nearly lost lamb toward the futon while untying his own robe.

“Now, apologize like you mean it.”

Now, you fall to your knees, grateful he’s allowed you to show how sorry you are in the shadows of his room instead of by the light of the sun.

“War is on the horizon.”

Sitting with your legs tucked beneath you at Suguru’s side on the elevated platform at the front of the room, you keep your eyes downcast while he addresses his congregation. This is your role, it has been for a very long time now, and you’ve learned to ignore curious onlookers or newcomers who will never be able to fathom such fanatical love.

You love him so much you silence yourself. You sit by his side, so quiet you may as well be nothing but air. You have never learned how to defend yourself or even delved into the curses that used to weigh you down; freedom from these responsibilities came in the form of surrendering yourself fully to him. Body, mind, soul, all tied to his whims. You are a puppet on a string and he is free to move you in whichever way he chooses.

Just the way you like it.

“I’ve officially made the declaration to Satoru Gojo himself.”

For the first time in years, you look up when you are meant to look down, the anxious murmuring of the crowd making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You know what happens when the congregation disagrees or questions their leader and he rises with a flourish, petting the back of your head gently before stepping off of the platform.

“Do I sense disagreement?”

Looking every bit the apex predator that he is, you dare keep your gaze trained on his back rather than the floor. His head swivels from one prostrate form to another, seeking out anyone who dares disagree with his plans. Foreheads touch the ground below them, the ultimate show of devotion, yet one head remains raised and Suguru chuckles as he approaches the newcomer.

You don’t know their name, you realize. You stopped bothering to learn the newcomer’s names given how little interaction you have with them. They’re nothing but faces to be forgotten about after they have spoken out of turn and met their end at the hands of the man standing with his chin held high.

“Is there something you’d like to say?”

Whatever boldness was previously etched into the face of the man kneeling before Suguru has very clearly disappeared but tension flares through the room regardless. You know that whatever choice he makes, however he chooses to deal with this foolish man, is exactly what he deserves. To spit in the face of God is bold and everyone has to learn their place eventually.

You certainly have.

“N-no, no. Please forgive me, Geto-sama.”

Suguru clicks his tongue, turning to face the rest of his family with his arms spread wide, face turned toward the ceiling. Your eyes are to be trained on the ground but you drink in the sight of him standing amongst the mortals who have always believed they know better than he does.

“What do you think I should do to the non-believer today?”

The question is rhetorical. At least, the silent room treats it that way, no one rushing to answer. Everyone knows to only speak when spoken to, even the inner circle who welcomed you years ago keep their foreheads pressed to the ground. He quietly pads through the crowd again, headed back toward you, and your eyes meet the ground swiftly to avoid being punished for looking at him out of turn.

“Look at me.”

Yours are the only pair of eyes he ever truly cares to have on him. Following the command, you glance up at him, remaining with your knees tucked beneath you and your hands folded in your lap. The way he looks down at you is as tender as he will ever get, even his softness is cold and harsh, but he speaks loudly enough that even the room behind him can hear that he values your opinion above the rest of them.

“What do you think I should do with him?”

Smiling back at him, your glassy eyes meet his and you say exactly what you know he wants to hear.

“Kill him, Suguru.”

Smirking, he reaches down to pinch your chin between his index finger and thumb like he always does when you are performing as expected. It isn’t a performance anymore, if it ever was, it’s simply the way you feel when it comes to those who oppose him. He wags your head back and forth before dropping the touch completely, turning around and leaving you facing his back.

Your eyes dart toward the ground once more. You were not instructed to look at him.

Geto walks through the rows of people once more, reaching to touch the backs of each of their heads while he passes, finally stopping in front of his target. His hands rest in the opposite sleeve of each of them and he bends at the waist, offering the same smile he gives to all of his victims.

“Well, unfortunately, your fate has been chosen. You may as well speak now while you still have the chance.”

A curse materializes, brought to this realm by the man in front of you, and you keep your eyes trained on the ground while screams and the sound of the rending of flesh fill the congregation room.

You’ll only look up once you’re instructed, as always.

#geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #kendall writes

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venerawrites · 3 days

Note

Please some headcanons if itachi's s/o has illness, how will he tread her and etc

(Love you and your works❤️)

author's note: it took me a while to get to this one, because I had quite a few things waiting in my drafts, so I do apologize! Hope you enjoy and thank you so much for your request! <3

Suffering from his own weak health, seeing his partner unwell would impact Itachi more that he would like to admit.

He would feel weak and helpless as he watches his s/o laying in bed, their breath rigid and their body covered in sweat.

Without a doubt, he would be taking care of all their needs - he would cook for them, clean their house, wash their clothes and even help them shower. From them, he only wanted them to rest and let their immune system battle the disease.

He would strictly observe their day routine and if they are taking your medication as often as prescribed.

How well he shows his concerns, however, will greatly depend on what type of illness his s/o has exactly.

If it is something minor or treatable, he would probably show his worry quite openly.

He would ask his partner every day how are they feeling and would spend hours and hours next to their bed, reading them stories or just caressing their hair, while you sleep.

Itachi is like a mother hen during this time - I imagine he would even stop doing missions for a while, despite knowing it would cause major problems.

If his s/o has a terminal illness, however, the situation may be a bit different.

When Itachi first find out, he was in disbelief. He was finally given a grain of happiness and he was about to lose it too... just like everything else in his life.

When his partner told him, he disappeared for few days. He was still nearby, but he just needed some time to think and clear his head.

Next, he was determined to find a way to save them. He would travel to every single village where there are medics, find the best and even drag them all to his s/o's door, if they refuse to come willingly.

Itachi is not a brute, but he can be when it is about the wellbeing of the ones he loves.

He would probably leave Kisame to watch over his s/o, while he was away, despite their initial fear of his teammate. With how often he was away, however, an unlikely friendship would form between them two.

I feel no matter what they say or how fast their condition worsen, Itachi would not give up searching ways to save their life and would even become angry, when they try to convince him otherwise.

It takes a long conversation with Kisame for him to realise that his lover doesn't have long left and it is best for him to remain by their side during that time.

Before them, he would act like everything is okay - he would try to bring as much normality as he could to his s/o life, but they would still be able to hear him cry himself to sleep at night.

cc artwork: "Wheel of Time" Concept Art

#itachi uchiha #itachi x reader #itachi headcanons #itachi imagines #naruto imagines #naruto headcanons

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cevansbaby-dove · 20 hours

Note

hey if your still doing requests i was just wondering if you could do

a Mechanic Chris Evans is a little older than Y/N story where Y/N has car trouble, and he finds her on side of the road and helps her.

and they go back to his shop. then things get a little flustered for Y/N they talk a little bit but they have a spicy scene,

if you are comfortable with writing

Omg I am so happy I found time to write this. Thanks for asking.

Pairing:Mechanic!Chris EvansX Reader

Warnings: Fluffy stuff then some spice 😉

"Damn it!" You said hitting the steering wheel. "Shit now what do I do now?" you looked around the road and see your not near any phone or even a town.

You grab your phone and look on the map for a towing company and you find Evans who is a mechanic, oh thank heavens.

You breathe a sigh of relief, you quickly dialed the number from the maps and heard his voice. "Hello thank you for calling"

You smiled, "hi My name is L/N, Um my car broke down here on I95 and I don't know how far I am from the nearest town can you help me?"

"Yes ma'am where exactly are you?" You looked at the road signs and tell him where.

"i'm only ten minutes from there hang tight i'll be right over" You nodded. "thank you"

You got out of your car wearing this outfit.

You were on your way meeting some friends in New York when your car broke down, you send a text to the group chat with your girlfriends in it saying you are running late.

You look around and then look at your phone. "it's already noon? oh man I will be very late"

moments later you see a tow truck pull up to your car. Chris hops out. "L/N right?" You looked at him and nodded. "yes that's me hi"

He shakes your hand and then looks at your car. "well I can have it towed back to my shop and take a look there it would be better then being out in this heatwave"

You nod "sounds good" He nods and says. "hop in the front" You do as he says and you watch him hook your car up to the back of the truck damn he looked good.

The way his arm muscles popped when he was hauling the chain to your car made you feel so turned on. But no you just met him it'd be weird to come on to him.

Who knows maybe he's married with kids! You shook your head as he walked to the driver side of his truck and gets in. "Okay" he drives back to his shop and he says. "at first glance i'd say that car has hit the dust"

"Oh that's not good" he nods. "we have a car dealer ship in the city so you could just buy or rest from there"

You nod looking at him. "is it a lot? I saved up a lot for this trip I am not about to spend it on one car"

Chris chuckles. "Yes ma'am it's cheap" He couldn't help but glance at you the way your tanned legs looked he was so in love.

Chris turns into the shop and turns his truck off and then hops out then open your door and you hop out not knowing how tall the step was from the ground you mis land and crash into Chris.

You look at him and he says. "you ok?" You nod standing up but his hands didn't leave your hips as you tried to regain your balance. "I'm okay thanks"

He gets the car into the garage and you stand there watching yet again letting your mind go into the gutter with this man.

Chris turns and says. "Should be fixed in a day or so. Sorry miss L/N"

"A day!?" You said rubbing your arms "I was meeting some girlfriends today not tomorrow, and oh by the way, my name is y/n" You mumbled stuff as you paced.

"Y/N? wait didn't I see you in high school? you were the popular girl every guy but me wanted." You looked at him. "Not so popular now, but I have a good life"

Chris nodded. "well did you ever marry Carl? I heard you and him were planning a wedding" You smile softly. "No it didn't work out" he nods. "sorry to hear that"

You look over at him. "What about you? has Chris Evans got a misses Evans?" He chuckled. "nope I did but we split due to some disagreements in our marriage."

"Im sorry Chris, any girl honestly would be lucky to have you I remember having a small crush on you back in school but...so did many of the other girls"

Chris smiles. "yes I get that alot" You chew on your lip when it was quiet and Chris says. "Anyway i'll see if there is room in the hotel"

You reach out for his arm. "no Chris please don't leave me alone here" he turns and looks at you. "um..okay"

You felt really bold so you stand up and walk to him. "what can we do to pass the time?"

He looked into your eyes and smiles. "I have a few things in mind" You bite your lip and he places his hand on your cheek. "I have wanted to kiss you so badly ever since in school but...God I couldn't"

You said in a hushed whispers. "What's stopping you this time Evans?"

His eyes meets your and he says. "Nothing but-" You place your index finger to his plump red lips. "Shhh..if you keep talking I might back out of this"

Chris crashes his lips on your grabbing your hands in one he backs you to a wall and he hears you moan as he swirls his tongue around your lips begging for you to let him in.

You part your lips ever so slightly so he french kisses you. "Hmm" You said as he run his hand down your waist to your leg pulling it up to his waist.

You gasp feeling his cock through his jeans. he kisses your neck softly nipping at your soft skin. "Fuck Chris..." You said as he let's go of your hand and he says in your ear. "you like it feels hmm?"

You moaned once more before he picks you up setting you on his desk ripping your shirt and shorts off.

"Fuck your beautiful!" he said as he kissed your chest and he moves your bra and starts groping your breast. You let your head fall back as he keeps is hands on you.

You tug at his shirt and he smiles as you take it off seeing the tattoos on his chest made you go crazy.

Chris goes back to sucking on your neck. "hmm" You unclip your bra then toss the the ground as you run your hands through his hair. "Chris...I want you.."

Chris smiles against your skin. "yes?" You nodded. "please" he works his jeans off and says. "panties off" You slid off the black thong and toss it to the ground.

Chris moves his hand to your dripping core. "So wet for me uh babygirl?" You moaned at the nickname. "Yes sir" He pushes a finger into you making you gasp. "Fuck that feels good"

He work his finger in and out of your clit before he adds another finger stretching you out in a best way possible.

"Chris.." That is all you could say as he kept his pace it was rough but you dreamed of this day with him since high school.

Chris feels you tighten around his fingers. "So close uh babygirl?" He said as he looks into your eyes.

"Hmm..yes" You said as you felt close but then Chris stops making you look at him. "No no Chris.." He creases your cheek.

"Shhh your ok" He gets his boxers off and grabs a condom and rolls it on his thick cock then he tease your sensitive clit. "You Ok?" You nod biting your lip. "yes sir..."

He pushes into you making you let out a yelp as your eyes roll into the back of your head. "Fuck Chris" Is all you can say before he slowly moves in and out of you.

"Yea? you like it uh?" He asks moving painfully slow in and out of you. "yes...Hmm so much" he smiles kissing your lips and you run your hands through his hair and tug on it as he speeds up his thrusts into you.

"Fuck fuck!!" You said feeling so close. "Chris...close..so.." he groans feeling close to his climax as well. "Shit you feel so good, why didn't we do this years ago?" he said as you moaned. "you..never...asked" You said between pants as he hit you g-spot over and over.

Chris groans as he cums in the condom and then you let go around him and he looks into your eyes and pulls away from you and cleans you up and says as he gets dressed. "so..was that my payment?"

You fixed your shirt and giggled looking at him still on the desk. "I don't know, could it be?" Chris looks at you and smiles. "one of the best payments I have ever had" he kisses you then you say. "I should get to the hotel" he nods. "i'll call you when your car is ready. IF I can fix it"

You nod hopping off the desk. "Call me either way please" You teased.

Chris nods. "that's a promise Y/N" You walked out of the shop and found the hotel and got a room for the night.

Tags:@nicoline1998enilocin @patzammit @cutedisneygrl @armystay89 @angelbabyyy99 @bookishtheaterlover7

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naturesapphic · 2 days

Note

Southern Belle Wanda with a temper. Expected to watch the love of her life (reader) marry another woman. Everything goes to shit, simply because Wanda refused to do so. Like, readers dress had a tear in it, her wife to be’s ring went missing (👀), the pastor cancelled on them the day of. Yet it didn’t stop reader.

So, she doesn’t even wait for the fill in preacher to ask for objections, she just dramatically storms through the barn doors and pulls the reader from her fiancée.

I think it could end in a getaway, where R just chuckles and says, “took you long enough, Maximoff…”

The reason for their current relationship statutes, Wanda was supposed to marry rich, but she chose her hearts path to marry the heiress to a small town farm.

“Marry me instead”

Southern belle!wanda maximoff x country!fem!reader

Warning: little bit of angst, hurt/comfort, Wanda has a temper

“Stop the wedding!” Wanda’s yells comes through the whole church and everyone turned their heads to see a distraught wanda. She stormed over to you and grabbed you from your fiancé. Your fiancé gave Wanda a dirty look and pulled you back towards her. “You will not take my wife away from me! You are married to that rich guy, now you leave my woman alone!” She growled but that made Wanda madder.

~ Flashbacks ~

You were in your room looking for your dress to make sure it wasn’t wrinkled when you pulled it out of your closet to find that it had tears in it. You were confused and had your suspicions that it was Wanda but you didn’t think on it more I mean, she wouldn’t do that to you right? She’s supposed to be marrying rich…

~ flashback over ~

“She’s not your “wife”!” Wanda yelled out and pulled you back towards her. Everything made sense now about how Wanda was acting and why things were going wrong. You had a feeling it was Wanda but now everything came together.

~ flashback ~

Tomorrow was your planned wedding day but everything is going to shit, some people have cancelled, your parents aren’t happy about the girl you are marrying, and your dress has a tear in it, and when it couldn’t get any worse. You just found out that the pastor has cancelled on y’all at the last second. You were kissed and every time something bad happens, your mind goes to Wanda.

She better not be ruining this all because y’all couldn’t marry. She was the one who chose rich over you. Now as you were looking in your room to find your box that has your ring in it, you open it to find that there’s no ring it in. You were livid and you wanted to get married now. So you gathered up everyone and got a random preacher and got your fiancé.

~ flashback over ~

“Who do you choose y/n? Her? Or me.” Your fiancé asked you as she gave Wanda a deadly glare that made you uncomfortable. You knew how your fiancé got when she got mad and you were always terrified when she was. You have always loved Wanda and always will. “I choose Wanda.” You said blankly as you snatched your arm back away from your ex as Wanda grabbed your arm gently and ran. You ran behind her as y’all both giggled and went into her car.

“Took you long enough maximoff…” you chucked as she sped off into the sunrise. She looked over at your with a love struck smile and gave your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Im sorry it took me so long. I had to get rich off my back when I told him last minute that I didn’t want to marry him. He definitely wasn’t happy about it but I didn’t care. All I thought about was you. It’s always you. That’s why I did those things to sabotage your wedding.” She admitted.

You laughed and shook your head. “I had a feeling you did.” You said and she smiled at you. “Where are we going?” You said as you looked out your window to see trees and the morning sun coming up from behind them. “To wherever our car takes us sugar. It’s us from now on and I’m never letting you go.”

A/n: I hope the anon enjoys it! I hope I did everything right with your request. I hope the rest of y’all enjoy it too! My requests are still open and remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all

#wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximov #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wandanat #wanda mcu #wanda fanfic #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda

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memestockpile · 2 days

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monkey man (2024) feel free to change as needed.

there are no fucking rules!

this is a sacred space.

that's the smell of victory right there.

you hear that? they fucking hate you.

don't spend it all at once.

there's hundreds of folks out there waiting to take your place if this isn't for you.

i leave politics to the politicians.

make it a double.

i don't want charity.

we don't just hire off the street.

look, i don't have time for all this.

give me the job no one wants to do.

you're gonna thank me for this one day.

watch my fucking leg.

you like john wick?

i want something small but effective.

okay, okay. don't cry.

i have a reputation to protect, understand?

i need you to learn some manners.

good stuff, okay? none of that cheap shit.

you. face the wall.

does it look like i need help from someone like you?

you want to make some money?

kill him, boy!

eyes to the ground unless someone calls you.

come on, brother.

let's boogie.

seat belt, buddy.

what happened to your hands?

they're all up there living, and we're stuck here in this.

that's no life.

that's red wine. this is a white wine glass.

tell me more about your trip, baby.

little birdie wants to fly away, do you?

you are not like the other girls.

i'll treat you like an angel.

we can fuck right here.

there you go. there you go. that's it.

every day, i would wake up to them singing.

stop feeding that dog. it's gonna keep coming back expecting more.

i nearly finished it all waiting for you.

who the fuck are you, you little rat?

what were you thinking?

you're awake. finally.

some people find that strange.

you should've died from those injuries.

we all have scars.

the police are looking for you.

stay with us. rest.

just some crazy kid from the gutter.

and that is why she ran away with the priest.

i never sleep.

i was once like you.

you need to destroy in order to grow.

it's time to remember who you are.

this is your home. you have nothing to fear.

i am nobody. i am nothing.

change never comes without a fight.

we cannot pay off some thugs.

i'll fuck your happiness.

hey, smartass.

anger will not quiet your soul.

don't call me "son."

my chariot is here.

only god can forgive you now.

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angelisgonnastartchangingurls · 2 days

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alicia

the way it worked with alicia was, someone was always trying to keep an eye on her. tom working from home on M, W, and F, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays their dad drove into the city to hang out with her. Annie offered to take Tuesdays off of their dad's plate--it was a long drive, and she had remote patients that day she could meet with from Tom's bedroom.

tom had a monitor into alicia's bedroom, like a baby monitor. annie found it to be wildly, electrically intrusive. alicia slept in every morning and so annie was already in her "office" working when alicia woke up and got dressed in full view of the camera. she knew alicia knew it was there, and one day, after a long call with a patient annie asked alicia how she masturbated with the camera there.

"well," alicia laughed. "i haven't yet."

"jesus, it has been weeks," annie said. "aren't you dying?"

"yes," alicia said. "i'm just a little nervous to try it."

"you are?"

"well, when i was with you i had a bunch of orgasms and then i had a stroke and fell into a coma. so what if that happens again the next time i cum?"

"alicia, you are i were really drunk and really coked up. it will be different."

"i don't know."

"jerk off, please," annie said. "look -- I will dial 9 and 1 on my phone and i'll be ready. but just go fucking cum."

alicia went obediently to her room. annie watched her touch herself tentatively on the monitor. she took so long that annie honestly tuned her out until she heard her breathing pick up, something like 30 minutes later. annie watched as alicia had an orgasm, and then sat there peacefully, and then started giggling.

"see?" annie said.

that night, tom texted annie. "LOL, thanks," he said. "Alicia won't stop jerking it now."

"hot," annie said. "are you jerking off while you watch her?"

"you're very intense," tom said. "would you want your brother to jerk off while watching you masturbate on a monitor? don't answer that, i know the answer is 'of course.'"

"of course," annie said. "i need new panties just imagining it."

"let me see," he said.

she sent him a picture of her soaked panties. he sent her a picture of his cock with the monitor visible in the background.

annie texted alicia. "does it turn you on knowing your brother can see you masturbating?"

"duh," alicia replied. "i'm imagining the live feed is being broadcast to everyone i know. my parents, friends, exes, teachers..."

"you get it," annie said. "as soon as i learned to be slutty i immediately regretted that so many people in my life never got to see my pussy."

"i find it hard to believe that anyone in your life hasn't seen your pussy," alicia said.

that night, in an attempt to connect with her mom, annie sent her a post-coital picture tom had taken. his cock is resting against annie's pussy and stomach, and his cum is all over her stomach and tits. "look at my boyfriend's cock," she said.

"it's very nice," her mom replied. "very big." she sent back a picture of herself blowing annie's dad -- the tip of his cock in her mouth, his cum running down her chin.

"so fucking hot," annie replied.

the next morning, her mom sent her a bathroom mirror nude. "sending this to your father so he'll wake up and fuck me," she said.

"he better do it," annie replied. 20 minutes later, her mom sent a video of herself riding him.

that afternoon was alice's weekly session. alice's voice had deteriorated further, but her neurologist believed it was temporary. alice spoke to annie via a text to speech app on her computer. alice typed very quickly, so it worked, but it was very strange. annie found herself very worried about alice, who seemed placid in a way that annie read as suicidal. after her session, annie called angel.

"i know what you mean," angel said as annie started to explain her worries. "we're monitoring the situation." annie thanked her and called julia.

julia's depression had leveled out, but not improved. she had very few patients and never left her parents' house. planning for the wedding had totally paused, jim quietly letting their friends know the save the date may no longer be valid. talking to her friend, annie could feel the old julia in there. she just needed someone to get it out of her.

someone also needed to take care of jim, annie thought, selfishly. she went to his apartment that afternoon and they fucked for a few hours. after, she played with his cum on her tits and asked if he'd gotten dirty with jenny since her visit.

jim told annie that she called him on facetime nude all the time, recently calling in panties and then, as soon as they were visible onscreen, said "oh, i'm so overdressed" and took them off. sometimes late at night she texted him "what are you up to?" with a picture of herself touching herself in bed, from her POV, all very tame but very hot. jim sent back videos of himself stroking his cock. annie loved scrolling through several instances of this happening and looking at jenny's responses. "fuck!" was the most common refrain, along with "i feel like a freak for saying you have a great cock but you have a great cock" and variations of the same.

they sent jenny several videos of their afternoon fuck. she responded with a "fuck!" and then a "i'm going to go make myself cum five times to this" and then later "annie makes me want to shave my pussy bald."

"don't do it," jim said. "i like the landing strip."

"do you like thinking about how it would move as you shoved your cock inside me?" she replied. "sorry, too far?"

"lol," he replied, "no, not too far."

"i mean watch," she said, and sent a video of herself slowly inserting a dildo, watching it progress as it slightly lifted the elevation of her pubic hair.

annie showered at jim's apartment and went over to tom's place. alicia was napping so she and tom had sex on the couch. they were done but still naked and messy when alicia woke up. she came around to the back of the couch and looked down at them, touching the back of tom's head affectionately while she looked at his wet cock. she was only wearing a pink pair of panties. "you two are so wonderful together," she said.

annie slept over that night, which she rarely did, but now that casey and robbie were always at her apartment she felt less drawn to being there. when she woke up in the morning, tom was already off to work, and their father had arrived to watch alicia. annie put on a t-shirt and panties before heading out to the living room.

alicia was in just a see-thru bra and a gray thong as she stood in the kitchen and chatted with her dad. annie talked for a bit and then announced her intention to shower before taking off her shirt. alicia's dad looked at annie's tits and said, "you two really do look a lot a like below the chin."

"i know, right?" alicia giggled. "every time i see her naked it's like looking in a mirror. this is her bra." annie looked at it. it was. she didn't remember leaving it there. "it's a great bra," her dad said.

when annie got out of the shower, she dried off and came out to the kitchen nude. alicia was bottomless. "annie, does your mom shave her pussy?" she asked.

"no," annie said.

"see?" alicia said. "it's a mom thing. my dad is wondering why my mom doesn't fully shave."

"i've always thought i'd still shave even after i have kids," annie said. "but i like your wife's bush."

"the last time she shaved was when she was pregnant," he said. "after that, she got sick of it."

"maybe i will too," annie said. "but i doubt it."

"you like my wife's bush?" he said. "you've seen it?"

"yeah, when she got out of the shower," annie said. she gestured at herself. "we're all very similar women, i guess."

"yeah, tom and i have the same type," he laughed.

alicia left for the shower, and when she closed the bathroom door, annie looked at jack. "wanna cum on me?" she offered.

"yes," he said. "but i will leave that to my son."

annie sighed. "okay, fine, be a good person."

he laughed.

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viesanterieures · 3 days

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𝑨 𝑮𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝑳𝒊𝒇𝒆 | 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝟏

Robert Fischer (Inception) x Reader

next chapter

summary: Robert and the reader have nothing in common. He's the son of a multi millionaire and future heir to a massive energy company, she doesn't really stand out in the big city Paris. But then Robert catches her trying to steal from him. No longer able to stand the pressure from his father and his company, Robert offers her a deal.

warnings: swearing, bad father-son relationship

word count: 2.5k+

note: you don’t have to watch inception to understand this story

Today was such a success, wasn't it, Clarke?"

The older man at the wheel sighed and tried to look away from the passenger. Clarke knew he was being sarcastic.

"I'm sorry for you, Sir," he replied. "But days like this happen. Even as the future CEO of Fischer Morrow."

The younger, dark-haired man in the back just rolled his eyes in frustration. "Don't call me that. I've spent my whole life in his shadow. He mocked me for every little thing, always saying I wasn't a worthy heir. And now that the old man is on his deathbed, he's suddenly changed his mind."

Clarke slammed on the brakes in shock. He was so distracted by the conversation that he almost missed the red light directly in front of him.

"But Mr Fischer... He is your father," he answered, his hands still shaking a little.

Fischer didn't seem to care that his driver had almost had an accident. Lost in thought, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his head against the cold car window. The heavy rain pelted down loudly, leaving thick streaks. "He was never really a father to me," he finally said quietly.

Clarke remained silent, avoiding Fischer's gaze in the rear-view mirror. The light turned green again and he stepped on the accelerator so hard that Fischer's face almost hit the front seat.

"Hey, pay attention, okay? I've had enough shit happen to me today, I don't want to end up in hospital tonight."

"I’m sorry, Sir," the driver muttered, a bit intimidated.

Fischer snorted angrily and tugged at his shirt. It was a beautiful white piece from an exclusive luxury fashion brand of which he was particularly proud. Only now it was covered in a large brown coffee stain. Fischer was seething with rage at the thought of what had happened.

He had an important meeting in Paris today to present The Fischer Morrow, his father's leading energy company, to potential clients.

Fischer had prepared for everything, practiced the presentation several times, rehearsed every word to perfection and checked his appearance in the mirror at least five times. He had got up early in the morning to make sure he had enough time to get ready, so that every hair was in place, the tie neatly tied and the shirt without the slightest crease. An immaculate appearance was essential to him. He was vain in every way.

But everything changed when the secretary balanced a tray of coffee in the meeting room. Fischer had only noticed her out of the corner of his eye, turned around to the audience and ended up bumping into her.

Luckily the coffee was no longer boiling hot, otherwise he would have spent the rest of the day in hospital with serious burns. But it was enough to knock Fischer off his game.

Angry and embarrassed at the same time, he could hardly concentrate on the content of his presentation. So much so that by the end he could barely form a complete sentence.

In other words: The Fischer Morrow had no new clients.

Had Robert Fisher's father Maurice not been terminally ill, he would certainly have given him hell and accused him of being an unworthy heir.

As always. As he had done for many years, ever since Robert was a little boy. Maurice had never thought of him as a son. He only ever spoke of him as the heir to his business.

God, how Robert hated the job. But he couldn't give it up while his father was still alive. Maurice Fischer seemed to want to give his company to a man he couldn't stand, but to whom he was related by blood, rather than to a complete stranger.

Robert didn't know how long he'd been sitting in the back seat, lost in thought, when Clarke finally parked the car safely outside the hotel where he was staying for a few days.

The man hurried out of the car to open the door for his passenger, staring at Robert's dirty shirt. Fischer fumbled in his pocket for the key to the hotel room.

"Good night, see you tomorrow," he murmured, waving a quick goodbye to his driver. Finally, he turned around on the heel of his shiny black shoes to enter the luxury hotel.

A wave of tiredness suddenly hit him, and all he wanted to do was take a shower and fall into a warm, soft bed.

When he finally opened the door, the light in the suite was on. Roberts heart began to beat faster and he frowned in confusion. He was pretty sure he had turned it off earlier. Had the room service forgotten to turn it off after they had left the room?

But when he suddenly noticed movement from the rear room, followed by strange scratching and tapping noises, he froze.

What the hell was that?

Quietly, still clutching the key, he entered the room and was almost scared to death when he saw the person in his hotel suite. They were fiddling with his wall safe, apparently trying to break it open.

***

She turned around as she heard someone open the door to the hotel room. Damn it! Why would he be back from his meeting so early?

The woman held her breath. She knew her plan was completely insane and dangerous, and that she would certainly end up in prison. But at this moment, she really didn't know any other way to help herself. Her mountain of debt seemed to grow every month. Her low salary as a hotel employee and the fact that even the smallest apartments in Paris cost a fortune didn't help. After months of stress and sleepless nights, she couldn't take it any more.

She finally saw her chance when she found out that the son of a multi-millionaire was staying at the hotel.

"I asked you, what the hell are you doing here?" The deep, threatening voice instantly made her shiver. Then she began to examine the man carefully.

He was dark-haired, slim and wearing a classic black suit. The only thing that disturbed this elegant image was a large brown stain on his shirt.

Her eyes wandered up and she caught a glimpse of his face. The man's features were sharp, he had a prominent jaw, but the most striking thing was his bright blue eyes that were staring at her angrily.

Silence fell over the room like a big blanket. Only her fast breathing and the ticking of a clock could be heard.

"Room service..." she finally managed to say in a hoarse voice. "Mr Fischer I ..."

Robert noticed her strong French accent.

"I'm sorry." She tried to avoid the man's angry gaze but he kept on staring at her with his icy blue eyes as she pressed her back even harder against the wall.

"Are you kidding me? You broke into my room and tried to steal my money. Room service my ass. I'm calling the police."

"Wait!" she interrupted him in panic, "I didn't steal anything, I..."

She knew that it was over for her. But she alone was responsible for this mess by allowing her emotions succeed against her mind. And now she had to face the consequences.

The woman put her trembling hands on her face and tried to hold back the tears. Suddenly another shock went through her body as a phone started to ring loudly.

Fischer pulled his phone out of his pocket and answered in an energetic voice: "Uncle Peter, now is not the time to call!" Then suddenly there was silence. Much too quiet for her taste.

Glancing through her fingers, she saw the man in front of her hold his forehead and then rub his eyes with his thumb and index finger.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Peter...How does Dad know what happened today, he's in hospital in Sydney...Who told him that?"

His voice, which had just been deafeningly loud, had now dropped to a low whisper. He finally said goodbye to the caller. Again the room was completely silent. Fischer just stood there with his hands in his pockets, his head slightly bowed.

For a moment she considered taking the opportunity to make her escape but then she dismissed the idea. Her legs were paralysed by fear, he also was half a head taller and probably faster than her and would catch her immediately. Fischer slowly raised his eyes and stared at the young woman in front of him.

Desperation was written all over her face.

***

He couldn't call the police now. That would draw even more attention to him, and for weeks the press had been writing one false article after another about him.

If the press found out, they would twist everything around trying to destroy his image, as they often did.

So he would not only be the spoiled and lazy millionaire's son who took money from his dying father, but also the man who lured beautiful young women into his hotel room and locked them up in there.

Robert sighed and sat down in one of the red velvet armchairs.

"Alright, go ahead. Report me. Call the police. I was just trying to get money to buy food and pay my rent. You probably don't know anything about money problems."

He lifted his head as he heard her voice. Robert didn't know why, but somehow he felt compassion.

But he didn't answer, because he was too busy thinking about his own problems. "I can't take it anymore, I have to get away from here. Away from my father. Away from Fischer Morrow. Somewhere where I won't get any more attention..."

The young woman finally sat down beside him and smoothed her blouse for a moment. "It's really not nice to be almost invisible and not be noticed by anyone." She shrugged briefly.

"I'd trade my life for yours in a heartbeat, I'm not kidding," Robert said.

Why had he just said that?

The woman just laughed. "Believe me monsieur, you really don't want to do that."

In a very strange way, he felt sorry for her. He couldn't really explain it, after all she had almost robbed his hotel room. But somehow he felt attracted to her.

And at that moment, the last rational thought after this nerve-wracking day left his head. He suggested something to her that he would never have done in his right mind.

How about... you get me out of the hotel unnoticed and take me somewhere where I can stay for a few days. In return, no one will know about your robbery of my hotel room. Deal?"

One of her eyebrows moved up as he said those words. "You want me to take you to my flat?" She stared at him in disbelief.

Robert put on his charming smile that usually worked on every lady. "Come on, a lot of women would kill for what I just offered you. Some ladies scream when they see me walking down the street like I was a movie star or something. They've even told me I'm the most beautiful man they've ever seen.

She studied him quickly. He was undeniably handsome, but also incredibly arrogant.

"And how do I know you're not dangerous?" She gave Robert a disparaging look.

"Yes, maybe I‘m a serial killer, who knows", Robert joked.

"You must know that I am very suspicious. But I can't lose my job or go to jail." He could see her struggling to make the right decision.

"All right," she said finally, after half an eternity. "I'll help you. On the condition that no one ever finds out that I tried to steal from you."

Fischer smiled again. "You can take my word for it, Madmoiselle..." He held out his hand, noticing her cautious gaze. "Come on, you can tell me your name now."

"Call me YN."

"Okay, YN. Now let's get out of here."

Finally she took his hand. Her fingers felt cold.

#cillian murphy #cillian #cillian robert fischer #robert fischer fanfiction #robert fischer #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy ff #inception x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #Oppenheimer #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #inception fanfiction #inception #christopher nolan #cillian murphy x y/n

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