#i wish i didn’t have to go but!! at least i get to see them all again

[suoshis]

the bit you wrote about sakura and how he would stick out his hand and it being "a silent and nervous plea for you to come and hold his hand" had me AWWWWWWING.

THATS SO FREAKING CUTE I CANTTT, love how you write him :)))

original post here! sfw, 700 word count.

my beautiful nonnie you are so sweet and i love u for sending this ask so i wrote this lil blurb for you ! <3 thank you :>

"huh? sakura?"

he wishes he never chose to stick his hand out the second he turns around to meet your gaze, heart thumping wildly against his chest when he sees the way you’ve tilted your head a bit, innocent eyes staring into his as you wait for an explanation. “what are you doin-”

“f-forget it!” his words stumble out of his mouth before you finish your sentence, palms clammy as he shoves them deep inside his pockets, pace quickening as he turns and walks away.

it was unlike him to do something like that in the first place. you’ve always been the one to initiate things like this, never failing to bring a furious blush to his face with each act of affection you shower him with. he doesn’t know what came over him in that moment… or how you were even supposed to understand his silent plea in the first place, but he’s confident that he wouldn’t be able to handle the dizzying heat in his head getting any worse than it already was now.

“wait!” your voice cuts through the air, and he finds himself slowing down his pace for you before he even realizes it. with how close your footsteps sound, he knows he doesn’t have enough time to fight this persistent blush. he can feel the heat continue to spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears at the thought of you holding him—

“…you okay? sakura?”

the sound of your voice pulls him out his thoughts, and it takes him a second, a couple more blinks to realize that you’re now directly in front of him, face inches away from his to inspect his expression with a curious hum.

there’s a strangled noise of surprise from him before he’s jerking back violently, sleeve coming to hide the bottom half of his face as he gasps. when did you get so close? he pushes his nose against his forearm, seeking some sort of comfort from his makeshift shield. a part of him hopes it’s enough to mask the embarrassment written all over his face, but deep down, he knows that it’s pointless with you.

“you did that because you wanted me to hold your hand, right? sorry, i didn’t get it at first…” you continue with a giggle, and he only manages a weak nod, words stuck in his throat as he forces himself to remember to breathe.

“i—” he tries to speak, but his voice catches in his throat again. it seems to be enough of a confirmation for you though, because you stick your hand out with a cheerful smile. “it’s okay. give me your hand, sakura. let’s go.”

his breath hitches in his throat when he hesitantly takes his hands out from the bottoms of his pockets, laying it lightly on yours. the feeling of your fingers interlacing with his right after has his stomach turning inside out, and he tears his gaze from you when he catches a quick glimpse of the soft smile you’re giving him.

the walk home by your side is painful, to say the least. his mind is stuck on how nice your hands feel against his, and he’s just trying to walk straight at this point. each step is more of a challenge than the last, stiff and forced— and he thinks it’s because his mind has been consumed by the thoughts of you and the overwhelming emotions swirling inside him.

he feels so warm.

“hey, sakura…?” your voice breaks the silence, and he stiffens at the subtle change in your tone, his mind beginning to race right away. was he too harsh earlier? did he push you away? his heart sinks at the thought. he just wants to be closer to you, to be someone who can reciprocate the affection you shower him with so easily, but he struggles to let his guard down.

“..what?” he blurts out, words tinged with hesitation. his heart pounds loudly against his chest as he waits for your next words, unsure of what to expect.

“did you want a kiss too while we’re at it?” the smile he’s so familiar with returns to your face, and the world seems to stop as he processes your question.

[hbyrde36]

Inspired by this TikTok

I wrote this instead of everything else I should be working on, enjoy! 😂

Rating: G | WC: 2494 | AO3

Eddie took a deep breath, preparing himself mentally for the night ahead as he walked up the street towards the place he was supposed to meet his blind date.

He couldn’t believe he’d agreed to this, but it wasn’t like he was having any luck finding love on his own. 

After several failed long-term relationships with fuckboys that weren’t worth his time and heartache, who ran the second things got real, he joined the apps—quickly realizing that most of the guys he found on there were only looking for sex. Which was fun and all, but Eddie wanted more. 

He was looking for romance, a spark, someone he could see spending his life with, who was also looking for a partner. Someone who wasn’t allergic to commitment. 

So, he’d quit the apps. 

And when Chrissy told him she had a guy she wanted him to meet he figured, fuck it, he’d tried everything else. 

Steve Harrington. 

He was a friend of Robin’s, Chrissy’s new girlfriend who Eddie hadn’t had the chance to meet yet, but apparently the three of them had gotten together last weekend, and now Chrissy was convinced the man and Eddie were perfect for each other. 

“On the surface it’s giving opposites attract,” she’d said, “but under the carefully styled hair and button down shirts, Steve is not at all what you’d expect. He’s kind, funny, a little weird, and way different than the guys you usually go for—but in the best way. Just give it a chance. I promise at the very least you’ll have a good time and maybe make a friend.”

Eddie wasn’t so sure that’d be the case, but he was here, willing to give it a go, and he had a trick up his sleeve. A little idea he’d stolen from a TikTok video that had, so far, a 100% success rate for exposing duds.

He reached his destination and pushed open the door, entering the warm dimly lit restaurant, and before he’d even reached the hostess stand noticed a man rising from his seat, smiling and waving—waving at him.

And oh, oh Chrissy had better count her days because Eddie was going to fucking kill her. Steve, assuming this was the guy, was quite literally the hottest man he’d ever seen in real life. 

She couldn't warn a guy?  

Eddie raised his hand, absently returning the wave as he continued to stare a little dumbstruck at his date. 

Get it together, Munson. 

Mercifully, Eddie was able to snap out of it enough to put one foot in front of the other again and make his way over to their booth.

There was an awkward moment where Steve couldn’t seem to make up his mind between shaking Eddie’s hand, or hugging him in greeting. 

Honestly Eddie wasn’t sure of the protocol either since it was his first blind date. He supposed this was to be expected. Not only were they about to embark upon the supremely awkward adventure that was every first date ever, but they were also meeting for the very first time having never seen or spoken to each other before.    

In the end it became one of those half-and-half bro hugs with the little pat on the back, before they took their seats opposite one another. 

Steve was the first to break the silence. “It’s good to meet you, Chrissy told me a lot about you.” 

“Wish I could say the same.” Eddie muttered under his breath. 

“Oh, um.”

“Sorry, it’s—I didn’t mean,” Eddie shook his head at himself. “Ignore me.”

“No, I'm sorry.” Steve raked a hand over his face. “It’s weird right? This is weird. I tried to tell Robin—I mean, who even goes on blind dates anymore!”

It surprised a laugh out of Eddie that he couldn’t have held back if he tried. He quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. 

Great job, Munson, laugh at the guy—great way to make a first impression. 

But then Steve was cracking a little lopsided smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling ever-so-slightly with it. He didn’t seem offended, or mad. 

Fuck. 

He wasn’t just dangerously hot, he was cute too. 

Eddie tugged lightly on his shirt collar, and cleared his throat. “It’s a little weird, sure, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad.”

Their server chose that moment to arrive and introduce herself, taking their drink order—some local craft beer Eddie had never heard of for Steve, a Jack and coke for himself—and Eddie used the temporary distraction to try and regain some composure. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t already hoping this would go somewhere, that Steve would be different from all the others.

But when the server had gone and it was just the two of them again, Steve opened his mouth and Eddie instantly flashed back to every bad first date he’d been on.

“So, what’s your favorite—”

Steve hadn’t even finished asking his first question before Eddie was interrupting, raising a hand to tick off each response on his fingers as he went.

“Black, metal, D&D, the 1999 cinematic masterpiece The Mummy starring our lord and savior Brendan Fraser, The Silmarillion, cheeseburgers, Halloween, aaaaand—a dog.”

Steve blinked at him. “...What?”

“My favorite color, genre of music, hobby, movie, book, food, holiday, and of course the classic—if I could be any animal, what animal would I be and why?” 

Eddie let his hand fall to the table with a soft thud. “Dog—hands down. And I know I look more like someone who’d say black cat or something like that, but I enjoy attention and physical affection far too much to be an aloof feline. Shaggy lovable mutt seems way more my speed.”

By the end of his speech, Steve was grinning from ear to ear, nodding in understanding.

Eddie gave half a shrug, blushing a bit under the full force of Steve’s dazzling smile. “Thought I'd save us some time and speed-run the same old, same old.”

A moment later their drinks arrived and they both sat up a little straighter reflexively as the server set each glass down on cocktail napkins in front of them before scurrying off. 

They’d been leaning in towards each other without even realizing, it seemed. It was Steve’s turn to blush now, Eddie noted with delight as he raised his glass to his lips, grateful to have something to do with his hands.

“I take it you’ve been on a lot of first dates?” Steve asked, taking a long sip from his own drink.

“A few.” Eddie said, tilting his cup to swirl the ice around. “You?”

Steve made a waffling motion with his head. “A few.” 

Eddie took another sizable swig from his glass, focusing for a moment on the burn of the whiskey and the tingle of soda bubbles in his throat as he swallowed, and carefully set his cup down on the table between them. It was almost empty already—should have asked for a double. 

“Okay, my turn, “ he said.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “You wanna know my favorite color?”

“No, there’ll be plenty of time to find that out later.”

“Presumptuous of you.”

Eddie hummed noncommittally. “More… hopeful.”

Steve let out a breathy laugh. “Alright, what do you want to know?”

Here goes nothing—

“What would you do if we moved in together and I started seeing ghosts and told you that our house was haunted?”

Steve tilted his head to the side, giving Eddie that soft crooked smile again, and damn if it wasn’t becoming one of Eddie’s favorite things. Can you be obsessed with something you’ve only seen twice?

Steve was quiet for a long moment, nearly draining his beer as he thought it over, but eventually set his own drink down beside Eddie’s and looked him dead in the eye. “Is it a nice ghost or a scary ghost? Are we talking banging on walls and rearranging furniture at 3am? Or a cold yet comforting presence in the corner.” 

Eddie put on a show of thinking about it, rubbing his chin and staring off into space as he tried desperately to contain his excitement. He’d never had the question go over this well before. 

Then their server was back, asking if they wanted another round—yes, of course—and if they were ready to order. They hadn’t even cracked open their menus yet, too distracted with talking. 

“Do you know what you want?” Steve asked him.

Eddie swallowed hard. 

You.

“I-I’m not picky. Order for me? Chrissy said you come here a lot so I’m sure you know what’s good.”

Without hesitation Steve ordered them a burger each, and a plate of some sort of fancy fries to share, apparently they had the best fries. 

It hadn’t been another test, honest. Eddie really didn’t care what he ate, this was already turning out to be his best date in far too long—and It could have been a coincidence, maybe Steve ordered burgers there all the time, but Eddie chose to believe it meant Steve had been listening. Test or not, he’d passed with flying colors.

When they were alone again Eddie smoothed his hands along the table, drawing invisible patterns with his fingers and finally answered Steve’s question. 

“Let’s go with scary ghost, but remember you have no proof, you haven't seen it with your own eyes, just my word.”

Steve waved him off as if that was inconsequential, upending his glass to get the last dregs of the beer, and wiping his lips on the back of his hand.

“Okay, well then it depends on how hands on you want to be. We could consult WitchTok, try and cleanse the house ourselves, ask the spirit to leave, that kinda thing. Or maybe find a priest who’d be willing to help us out? That might be a little more difficult since the church isn’t usually our biggest fans, but I could deal with a little homophobia to make sure you were happy and comfortable in our home.”

Eddie’s stomach flipped, heart beginning to race. He wasn’t surprised exactly, Steve had been blowing past his expectations at every turn already, but there was no more perfect answer to his admittedly insane first date question.

So naturally, he had to push. 

“What if I wanted to move?”

Steve shrugged. “Then we’d move.” 

Eddie stared at him incredulously. Steve said it like it was nothing, like uprooting his entire life for some crazy shit was akin to changing his socks. This was all hypothetical, Eddie knew that, and Steve could just be telling him what he wanted to hear, but Eddie had a feeling he was telling the absolute truth

“But we’d be out, at minimum, a month’s rent and security deposit, and what if the landlord won’t let us out of the lease?!” Eddie threw his hands up, suddenly taking his own game much too seriously. “Or godforbid we’d bought the place, then we’d have to sell it and all our money would be tied up in it, and—”

Steve reached out and took Eddie’s hands with his own, gently stroking his thumbs along the back of them. “Baby—baby it’s okay. No amount of money would be worth you feeling unsafe.”

And Eddie was simply going to pass away, because what the fuck—how was this man so perfect?

“Why—how are you single?”

Steve flashed a sad, self deprecating smile. “I’ve been told I can be a little… intense.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Well, historically speaking…”

Eddie leaned over the table, pressing a kiss to the back of Steve’s hand. “I happen to like intense.”

Steve sucked in a breath, cheeks flushing again with the most glorious shade of pink. “Good to know.”

They stayed hand in hand talking for a long time, taking turns asking each other the most random questions they could think of. 

“Favorite episode of The Twilight Zone?” Eddie asked. 

“Oh, easy. I don’t know the name of it but it’s the one where the kid is lost and her parents can hear her in the house panicking, but they can’t see her?” 

Eddie nodded his approval. “Little Girl Lost, good choice.” God he was falling more in love by the second. 

“Favorite Abba song.” Steve countered. 

Eddie grinned. “How do you know I even have one? Mean scary metalhead like me.”

Steve rolled his eyes, and shot him a look that clearly stated he found Eddie neither mean or scary. “Everybody likes Abba.”

“Well played.” Eddie bit at his bottom lip. He felt like a teenager with his first crush all over again. “Fine—while Dancing Queen holds a special place in my heart, and maybe this makes me a gay cliche, but Gimme, Gimme, Gimme fucking slaps.” 

It went on and on like that until eventually their food arrived, forcing them to separate. They still spoke as they finished their meal, and settled their tab, but Eddie missed the warmth of Steve’s hand in his already. 

He suddenly understood why some couples chose to sit together on the same side of a booth. He’d happily look like a dork right now to have the opportunity to be pressed up against Steve’s side, to be able to slide a hand along his thigh and maybe—

“Eddie?” 

Steve’s slightly raised voice found him in his daydream, snapping him out of it abruptly. 

“Wha..?”

“Did I lose you there for a second?” Steve asked, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

Eddie rubbed at the back of his neck nervously. “Yeah, sorry, um—you were saying?”

“I said, I'm having a really good time, and I know we already paid the bill but I really don’t want this night to end, so—” Steve slid out of his seat and moved to stand in front of him, holding a hand out—which Eddie took immediately, of course, and let Steve pull him to his feet. 

“I was wondering if you’d want to take this back to my apartment? Y’know, so we can plan a second date?” He finished with a smirk.

Jesus Christ. 

Warmth shot through Eddie’s body at the implications but he found his heart skipping a beat too, because as much as Steve was teasing, Eddie knew somehow that he meant it about the second date. 

He couldn’t believe his luck, Steve was everything Chrissy had made him out to be, and so much more. He was going to send her the biggest bouquet of flowers tomorrow, and maybe an edible arrangement. Were those still a thing?

Eddie leaned in, letting his lips brush along the shell of Steve’s ear as he spoke. “It’s not haunted, is it?” 

Steve shivered, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and pulling their bodies flush. “No, but if you’re interested I can think of a few other ways to make you scream.”

Thanks as always to the lovely @penny00dreadful for everything😘😘😘

Permanent taglist(open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers @bookworm0690 @wonderland-girl143-blog 

@goodolefashionedloverboi @themagicalari

[wososcripts]

Face to Face (IV)

Fridolina Rolfö x reader

Summary: An attempt to make amends.

A/N: we're nearing the end!! not sure how I feel about this part... hopefully it's okay

Word Count: 3k

Warnings ⚠️: none?

PREVIOUS PART

The next few days followed in a similar manner. Alexia brought you to the pitch even though you couldn't play, and you sat there for a few hours until they were done. Occasionally Jona would come over to see you, or Olga would stop by with food. Ana Maria even drove over from Madrid to see you and take you out for the day. But mostly you slept, listened to podcasts, and thought about what the hell you were going to do about Frido.

She still hadn't spoken to you and the team was starting to notice. It's not like the two of you were very close before (at least publicly) but now it was a conscious avoidance. The rest of the girls often kept you company when they could on breaks or in between drills.

It was only after five days, on Friday afternoon, that she approached you.

“Hi…” Frido said softly.

You looked up at her from where you sat on the pitch. You had been doing light stretches on your calves, still not allowed to do anything strenuous until next week.

“Hi, Frido.” You said plainly.

You tried not to react emotionally despite the fact that this was the first time she was speaking to you since the incident. She hadn’t even called to say she was sorry. It all seemed to confirm she really didn’t give a damn about you—didn’t have the courtesy to treat you like a stranger even.

“How are you feeling?”

Her careful, soft tone enraged you.

“Not so good, actually. My head fucking hurts, I’m sick of sitting here while the rest of you play. And I’d really rather be doing anything than talking to you.”

You felt bad the second you said it. Not because she didn’t deserve it, but because this wasn’t you. You were better than that.

“Sorry, I just really would like to be left alone, Frido. Please, just leave me be. Leave me alone.”

Frido’s eyes shot towards the ground as she blinked furiously.

“Okay.”

She turned away and walked back to the field, joining Alexia and Ingrid as they talked about something. Part of you felt bad for rejecting her so quickly, but another part of you felt enraged that she had the nerve to wait this long.

Ingrid looked over at you and then back at Frido curiously.

"What did you want to say to her?" She asked in Norwegian, knowing Frido would understand.

"I don't know… just wanted to check in on how she's doing so far."

Before Ingrid could reply again, Alexia butted in.

"You need to tell her you're sorry as soon as possible."

"I just tried—clearly she isn't too keen on having me around, is she?" Frido snapped back.

The three of them stood in shock for a second, surprised at Frido’s temper. Usually she was level headed and understanding.

Alexia sighed and clapped her on the shoulder.

"Keep trying."

With that she was off to change and shower, giving Ingrid a small smile as she left.

"Frido," Ingrid rubbed her arm to catch her attention. "Why don't we go get a drink tonight and catch up? It's been a long time since we went out, just us."

Frido contemplated it momentarily, not stupid enough to miss that Ingrid clearly wanted to talk about her mood. If she accepted, she was also accepting the fact that she had to open up to her best friend sooner or later.

"All right."

-

"I don't know what to do," Frido complained, tossing back the last dregs of her beer.

Ingrid sat across from her, her own beer nearly untouched. They were sat out on the balcony of some restaurant nursing the end of the night. They hadn't met, just the two of them, in a while, Frido realized. She wished it was under better circumstances.

"Can I be honest?" Ingrid asked.

Frido nodded. She expected no less from the Norwegian—though she was incredibly kind, it wasn't common for them to sugar coat things.

"You've got to go up to her and apologize. Sincerely. One on one. And you can't be sure she's going to forgive you."

Frido knew Ingrid was talking about apologizing for more than the tackle. She wasn't privy to exactly what happened between the two of you—even in your anger you hadn't told your teammates what was going on—but it was clear something unhealthy had been a staple between the two of you.

"Mapí showed me the video. I didn't want to see it at first, you know how I am with that stuff, so worried always that it'll be one of us. But I finally saw it." Ingrid met her eyes. "The way she went down, the way you hit her, she could've been hurt much worse than she is. And you just got up and left, didn't even check on her."

There was a hint of disdain in Ingrid’s voice that inspired nausea in Frido.

"Had that been any player in a match against Barcelona, imagine how any one of us would've reacted."

Frido knew, if she had seen someone do to you what she had done herself, it would've boiled her blood. To see you lying there unmoving, would've had any player on that field aching, because you were wonderful. You didn't cause fights, you forgave people, you smiled at the opposition after each game, you spent as much time as possible with the fans. And Frido had somehow broken that, gotten you to yell and scream and cry.

"We were together." She whispered, not meeting Ingrid’s eyes. "Well, not really. We were sleeping together, I was at her place most days a week."

The waitress came by, and Frido ordered a glass of wine. She needed a bit more courage to fully get this out in the open.

"I didn't want commitment. I'm not… I didn't know how to be open about that with anyone. I was ashamed of it—she knew. She could sense it." Frido gripped the stem of her wine glass and took a sip. "She hated breaks because she knew I wouldn't talk to her until I was back in Barcelona. Right before I went back to Sweden for camp… we had a huge fight. She said she couldn't take it anymore, that I made her feel like a whore, that I tossed her aside whenever I didn't want her. And I said I didn't care."

Ingrid was silent.

"I didn't expect her to kick me out. Or to refuse to speak to me. I thought we'd fall back together, we always did. But it was different this time. And I hated it. I hated it so much it made my head spin."

Ingrid put a hand over Frido’s where it rested on the table.

"Frido, I love you. You're my best friend, okay?"

Frido nodded, wiping at a tear that was beginning to fall.

"You've got to make this right. Good people do shitty things. Really shitty things sometimes. But sometimes they're also forgiven, in time. And if you want anything with her, even friendship, you've got to apologize and explain yourself."

Frido nodded, meeting Ingrid’s eyes finally.

-

That night Frido found it difficult to get to sleep.

There wasn't any good reason for it: she had worked hard in practice all day and her body was exhausted. Her bed was comfortable, her apartment quiet. But it was empty. She had realized that she hadn't spent a week straight sleeping in her apartment for months. At least once a week she was with you, always.

But now you weren't speaking to her. You looked at her during practice, then avoided her at all costs. She hadn't even tried texting you, worried she would find her number blocked.

She contemplated calling someone to keep her company, though who would be up at one in the morning?

Eventually she fell asleep after tossing and turning for what felt like hours. She slipped away into unconsciousness, allowing her body to relax into the mattress.

Her mind, however, had different plans.

In her dreams she was in the hospital, unable to get to you. She stood at the door to your room, peering in through a small glass window. The rest of the girls were inside, holding your hand and stroking your skin as you laid in the hospital bed. Your eyes were open but you hardly moved. All she knew with certainty was that you did not want to see her. You wanted her gone. You've ruined my life, she heard you say, though your lips didn't move.

Another time you had simply disappeared. Her fault. You had moved far away, far from Barcelona, and far from her. You were happier somewhere else, with different people.

Once more you hated her. Refused to speak.

When she woke it was to a dark room and a sick feeling in her stomach. She was lonely. She wanted you next to her in bed. She wanted to see you smile and hear you laugh. She wanted to see you play great football and jump into her arms after a goal. And it terrified her to think she wouldn't get any of that again.

How was it that she could've treated you so horribly? It confused her, as if it had been someone else. How had she let her fear control her like that? And most importantly, how had she put your feelings aside so callously?

If she was going to fix anything she would need to apologize. Apologize for it all. Ingrid was right. She hadn't been there for your recovery and now it was all she wanted. The guilt of it all threatened to choke her. She thought of how scared you must've been lying on the field in pain.

Though it was only 4:30 in the morning Frido got out of bed and went to the bathroom to start a scalding hot shower. She needed a plan for how to fix things between you two.

-

It began that morning. Alexia brought you to practice. You were still living with her for the time being, until you were one hundred percent cleared. You didn't mind it, in fact it was nice to get so much time with Alexia when she was normally busy.

You walked into the locker room, so pleased to be getting into your kit for the first time in a week and a half. Even if it was just for physio work, at least you were in the uniform once more.

Unexpectedly, sitting in your locker was a small stuffed cow with a card and one of your favorite protein bars propped against it. You picked up the plushie, pressing it to your face and enjoying the softness. You were a bit of a child when it came to stuffed animals: you loved them.

The card was written in very familiar handwriting, and your heart jumped into your throat.

This made me think of you. I'd really like to apologize after practice today. Perhaps we can grab a coffee?

- Fridolina

The message was a bit stilted, but you could practically hear Frido’s hesitation on the page. She was nervous.

Just then the blonde came into the locker room to grab something from her bag. She glanced at you quickly, not sure as to your reaction.

"Frido," you called softly. You hadn't decided until that moment to try and forgive her, "I'll see you after practice."

Frido seemed shocked, but quickly her mouth transformed into a wide smile.

Practice seemed to fly by now that you were allowed to do something. The physio workers had you weight training and doing yoga to try and work your muscles that were tight from the pain you had been in. You felt like you were making progress, finally, after more than a week of sitting around.

-

The car ride with Frido was quiet. You sat in the front seat, fiddling with your fingers and checking your phone as she drove. She had music playing softly, some indie band you didn't know. It was bordering on awkward, though not quite there. You simply didn't know what to say.

Once Frido was pulling off the street to parallel park you spoke.

"I don't think I've been here before."

"I just found it a little while ago when I was wandering around desperately in need of some coffee."

The shop was cute. The outside was painted in chipping yellow paint and the shutters were open. There were a few tables outside, an eclectic set of guests seated at them. There was an old man reading the paper, a student on her laptop, and a mother with her baby. The smell of baked goods wafted from the entrance.

"The muffins are fantastic, if you want one." Frido offered cautiously.

You nodded and gestured for her to enter first.

You decided on a chai and a cinnamon muffin which did look incredible, you had to admit. When you were about to pull out your card to pay you felt a hand on your arm.

"I'll pay, please."

You allowed it, understanding that this was all part of Frido trying to ask for forgiveness. You were willing to see this to the end. It shamed you to admit but you had missed her deeply. It felt good to be near her, to smell her perfume and anticipate her ticks that you knew so well. What made you stay was the possibility that she had missed you too.

Frido carried your drinks and food to the table you picked. It was still warm enough to sit outside even with the sun setting. You tapped your foot and ate your muffin slowly, waiting on her to say something. You didn't want to speak first, but it seemed as though you might have to.

"So…" you started, trailing off to try and prompt Frido.

"I wanted to apologize. Really apologize."

You sat quietly.

"Just for the concussion you gave me?"

Frido hesitated.

"I'm still figuring things out—it's all jumbled up in my head. I was talking to Ingrid the other day and she made me realize I had to set things straight."

"What exactly does that mean?"

"I'm not explaining this well—I wanted to apologize for hurting you. And I want us to be on better terms. I wish we could start over."

"That's it?"

Your chest squeezed painfully. You thought this was the chance you had to deal with the horrible ending to your relationship, but Frido seemed to have no interest in unpacking it. You couldn't help the way your anger flared in response to the hurt you felt.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm not exactly okay, Frido." You started to stand up. "I think it's better if I left. There's no hard feelings over the concussion, I knew it was an accident. Let's just forget about all of it."

Frido stood up quickly, reaching out to grab your elbow.

"Can I drive you back?"

You shook your head.

"I'd really rather walk. It isn't far to Alexia's."

Frido looked for a second like she would push further, but then she deflated and nodded.

"See you at practice, Frido. Thank you for the coffee."

-

You couldn't help the tears that fell down your face as you walked down the streets of Barcelona. Deciding to forget the whole thing was worse than being angry about it—at least then you got some acknowledgment. Now you felt as though Frido was telling you she just wanted to smooth things over and make nice. She wanted it to be as if this thing between you never existed—all the pain and attraction gone in one fell swoop. You wanted to scream.

How were you meant to play with someone who you had so much conflict with? Surely Alexia or Jona would begin to notice sooner or later. You knew it would affect the team chemistry. The thought just made you more upset.

The tears in your eyes began to fall faster. Not only was your relationship (whatever messy bleeding thing it had been) ruined, but there was a potential for it to impact your job, your team too. What would you do then? If it came down to you or Frido you couldn't imagine Barça picking you.

Alexia noticed you were crying the second she saw you, even though you tried to hide it.

"What's wrong?" She fretted, pulling you close to her. "What happened? I thought you were with Frido this afternoon? Why did she not drop you off?"

You just shook your head, burying it in your captain's sweater. She wrapped her arms around you, quietly shushing you.

"Come, let's sit down."

You felt like a child being led to the couch and leaning in Alexia's embrace. Deep breaths eventually calmed you down so you could speak.

"I'm sorry Ale, I shouldn't be coming here like this."

Alexia shook her head.

"Nonsense. Tell me what happened. Was it Fridolina?"

"It's my own fault, I let it get like this."

"Let what get like this? The accident?"

You shook your head.

"Not the accident. Frido and I have a…we have our difficulties."

Alexia looked at you, surprised.

"Really?"

"I don't think I can tell you…you're her captain I don't want to let it affect the team."

Alexia took your hand.

"I can separate work and personal life. I'm your friend too, and it seems like you need one."

"We were seeing each other, kind of. In secret." You sighed. "We weren't exclusive, she just wanted some fun I think. I didn't."

You felt defeated. There wasn't much more to do. You just had to accept your fate.

Alexia looked at you for a moment in disbelief. She had had no idea.

"You and Frido?"

"It was a mistake."

[yuriisclumsy]

hii! How are you darling :)

Can i request a crack/ funny and fluffy cale x pregnant reader ? Like she is a few months pregnant, so cale and the kids always lay with her and dont let her do much.

Ofc the others are overprotective of her, bc like shes clumsy😭 like always falling down the stairs, nose bleeds (me core) and she watched everyone panic while looking at them with a deadpanned look bc

1. Shes a baddie whos to hot to die

2.the baby is fine and alive

And cale is loosing his mind bc he cannot leave her alone for two mins bc she will somehow make even more trouble simply bc shes ✨just a girl ✨

Stay still, will you?

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝:1,267

»»►This is a funny scenario. I like to think Cale is a super, over the top, overprotective, man. If you mess with those he cares about or loves, you’re about to find yourself in an interesting situation. 

»»►But when Cale finds out he’s going to be a papa, he goes wild. Forget accepting whatever mission the crown prince wants him to do, he needs to be right next to his wife–24/7. 

»»►And let’s be honest with ourselves, this man would literally take this chance to laze around even more. This is the life he wanted, no? 

»»►Oh, but his dear wife doesn’t like sitting still for more than a minute. This is torture for her—but can’t do anything about it because her husband and (adopted)kids want her to relax and take care of herself and the baby. 

»»►But, why? You may ask. That’s for the single fact that she is clumsy (hey just like me!). She crashes stuff, trips, falls, hurts herself—according to Cale and the others—she denies such accusations—and last but not least, she gets herself in trouble. 

»»►So, yeah. [Name] have no “stepping outside the state” privileges until after the baby is here physically. But [Name] is a tough cookie. She can handle herself when no-one is around. So—to everyone’s dismay—she goes outside one day. It’s just to stroll around and see what has progressed in Harris Village. 

»»►One thing to note: she didn’t tell a soul about her outing. 

»»►Now imagine Cale’s face when he comes back to see the staff panicking for the whereabouts of his wife. 

»»►Let's just say…it was chaotic that day. 

“Woah, that looks tasty...!” [Name] drooled at the sight. 

“Good morning, lady [Name]! What can I get you today?” The shop owner greeted [Name] with a smile. 

“Can I have this please?” [Name] pointed to one of the delicacies of the bakery. It was a croissant-looking-bread stuffed full of chocolate. 

The owner of the bakery gave her a bag filled with what she ordered. “Here you go! Please come back soon!” the owner waved goodbye. 

“I will!” She waved back at the owner. [Name] took one of the baked goods and began to eat it.  

“I wonder how everyone is doing at the state.” 

… 

“LADY [NAME]!” 

“M’lady! Where are you?!” 

“Does anyone remember the last place [Name] went to?!” 

“M’lady, please be okay!” 

Currently, everyone is in a frenzy. The lady of the house was nowhere to be found, and everyone and their mothers were running like headless chickens in search of her. And if they did not find her, their master was going to kill them! 

“What is with the commotion here?” a voice spoke from the entrance of the manor. 

Everything stopped. Slowly, the housekeepers and butlers turned their heads towards the voice. They knew this voice. Very well in fact. Although they grew to like it, right now, they wish they didn’t hear it. They prayed that it was a ghost. Dread overtook them as they saw the voice’s owner. 

Cale Henituse. Their young master. And the husband of the manor’s lady they were trying to find. 

“So? Is anyone going to tell me why you are all running like the world just ended?” Cale spoke. 

Who was mad enough to even dare to tell the young master that his wife magically disappeared? Not me. And not anyone in this room.  

Yet a brave soul stood up and spoke. May he rest in peace. 

“Ah…y-young mater Cale,” a young butler went forward and vowed, stammering in his word, “we..uh…. Can’t find lady [Name] anywhere...?” 

“...” 

“...” 

It was deafeningly silent. No one moved an inch, waiting—waiting for the order to execute them. They fully accepted their fate. 

“Well, what are you all just standing there for?” he spoke, breaking the iceberg. 

“Huh?” 

“Standing still isn't going to bring back [Name].” He stood there, staring at the crowd. 

He was right. 

They needed to get back to searching for Lady [Name]!  

A chorus of ‘yes, sir!’ was heard before a horde of housekeepers and butlers left in search of their Lady. 

“*sigh* Why are you like this [Name]...?” Cale whispered and looked up. He slowly walked to the exit of the manor heading to the town; the children followed after him–this included Choi Han. 

“Master Cale, where are you going?” Hans asked. 

“I’m going to the market area in the town,” he said, not bothering to look back. “Ron, make my bed as comfortable as you can make, will you?” 

“Yes, young master.” Ron responded. 

“Great.” 

… 

Lovely day for [Name] sitting in the shade of an umbrella and her delicious foods. Going from one shop to another, she had managed to gather a lot of food. She had gone overboard again, yes, but the baby she was carrying and her were happy. Who could ever disturb such happiness? 

“[Name].” A male voice called her name firmly from behind. 

Of course. The only person that could was her husband. [Name] knew he only meant good, but right now he had broken that tranquility. 

“Oh! Cale, love, darling, how are you...?” [Name] turned and looked at him nervously. The children had gathered around her–with Raon being invisible naturally. 

“[Name]...” Cale rubbed the temples of his face before sighing, “why are you out?” he asked sternly. 

“Well clearly, I was taking a walk. And I bought some snacks on the way.” She answered, petting both Hong and Raon while On made herself comfortable in her lap. 

“What–no. That’s not what I meant.” 

“You asked why I was out, and I told you why.” 

“You know exactly why I asked that.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” [Name] gave the children the treats she had bought earlier. 

“[Name], please. You know how dangerous it is for you to be here right now. You are due at any point now! And I just…agh..I just want you to stay safe.” He said in frustration. 

[Name] looked at him, feeling a bit guilty that he is like that. She had reached her ninth month a week ago, making this month the most crucial. She just didn’t want to stay locked up in her room all the time. It was something that did not sit right with her. 

“I’m sorry…” [Name] looked down in shame. 

“I…*sigh* You are going to be the death of me.” Cale came closer to her and placed his hands underneath her. 

“Hu-huh? Cale? What are you doing?” panicking a little before realizing he was going to carry her. 

“Carry you, obviously.” He scuffed. “We’re going back to the manor.” 

“Aww…can’t we go to another shop? It’ll be the last one, I promise!” Her begging went to deaf ears. He wasn’t letting her get away with it, so she started to wiggle her way out his arm. 

“Stay still, will you?” 

“Not until I get my last treat.” 

“*sight…* Fine. But you’ll have it after dinner. Dinner is going to be served soon.” Cale said while walking to the nearest candy shop. 

“Mmmm, I'm fine with that. Oh! Choi Han, hello. Sorry, I didn’t notice you there.” 

“It’s fine lady [Name].” Choi Han gave her a small nod. 

“Moooom…I want a treat too!” 

“I also want one!” 

“The great Roan Miru will get one too, right?” 

“Wait a second. Since when do they call you mom?” Cale asked in confusion. 

“Yes, yes. All of you will get one.” 

“Don’t ignore me.” 

Choi Han giggled as Cale continued to ask and get ignored by them. 

Fin 

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Master-List

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Extended Parting

Synopsis: After being separated from you for so long, Childe finally finds you again.

Foul Legacy x Reader Pronouns: Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Comfort Warnings: Mentions of blood, physical injuries, fear, pain, crying, allusions to being attacked

Original Request by Anon: requesting requesting! beep bop beep bop ! more foul legacy × reader hurt/comfort, perhaps? :3

hear me out- in the format of a scenario; just pure comfort, reader is perhaps sent of to a dangerous mission/commission while childe is away doing his own thing. when he is going back home however, he stumbles across a group of fatui, taking the reader hostage & hurting them. foul legacy's reaction to his "allies" hurting the love of his life? and how he would take care of the reader after, assuming the reader got pretty severe injuries (even though they're not fetal).

Im a big sucker for this big boi getting all soft when the reader is hurt, and i wanna see more of him just holding the bleeding reader in his arms while trying to comfort them

~ * ~

Two weeks, three days, seven hours, and eight minutes. That’s how long you’ve been apart, how long Childe has gone without being in your presence, and he’s hated every second of it. Important commission, hah! No commission could be so important that it took you away from him for this long- almost half a month! All of your other missions took you a week, tops, and even then he could barely handle it, missing you more and more as each day passed without a single word or letter. Of course, he admits, it’s not like Childe didn’t also have his own duties to attend to during this time, this extended parting. As usual, he was forced to store Ajax and Childe away, slipping on the mask of Tartaglia, the Eleventh Harbinger, and taking delight in violent diplomacy. But even fighting and bloodshed did little to satiate his longing for you; how much he wished to see your wonderful smile and that keen twinkle in your eyes, hear your lovely voice, cradle you in his arms and kiss your cheeks- Childe groans, burying his face in his hands. It makes him irritable, constantly yearning for you, and Foul Legacy is even worse. His Abyssal half is constantly clawing at the back of his mind, worrying his talons and whining as he asks why they haven’t seen you yet? Where are you? When will you be back? He wants cuddles something fierce, desperately seeking out the attention and affection you always give him only to find that you’re nowhere near. They’re both so lonely without you, only each other for company, and Childe has to physically bite his hand to prevent Legacy from simply snatching control of their body away and flying off to find you. With a sigh, the Harbinger wipes the blood from his blades, then his hands, and finally his face, ginger hair all wild and unruly. At the very least, today was when he would finally return home to Liyue. He never thought somewhere other than Morepesok could be considered home, but it turns out that “home” is wherever his heart is, and he gave it to you long ago to keep safe from everything that hurts.

Home… Childe’s mind drifts back to the house you both share, a small smile instinctively tugging at his lips. With a quiet snap of his fingers and a salute, his underlings are dismissed- they’ll be going back to the Fatui Headquarters in Snezhnaya. Childe, however, packs his supplies near the road back to the harbor city, waving the agents away, and the moment they’re out of sight his smile widens into a full-on grin, a delighted gleam in his azure eyes. 

Even just thinking about you seems to bring out the best in him, Foul Legacy chirping happily in the back of his head when Childe reassures him that yes, they’ll be seeing you again soon. If you’re done with that horribly long commission of yours, that is, which he’s sure that you are- even the most arduous never take up to three weeks. Despite being exhausted, he finds a spring in his step, dust swirling as his boots land against the dirt path. You, you, you- he’s going to see you again, his beloved and most treasured. Childe almost glows with energetic joy as he jogs, as if he never fell into the Abyss at all. His hand twitches, Foul Legacy begging and pleading to be let out after spending so long locked away, but Childe hushes him gently. You’ve said that you like it when he’s kind to Legacy and Legacy is kind to him- they are part of each other, after all, and you love both of them- so he tries to treat the monster as a friend rather than a weapon, and with a huff Legacy settles back down. Something faint and distant as the moon pierces the night, and Childe pauses, ears pricking. He tilts his head to listen, and for a moment he hears nothing but silence. Until- there, there! A scream! It’s far off, over the next hill, but unmistakably there. Even from a distance Childe can hear the desperation, the terror burning into his bones like a raging fire with a familiarity that makes him stop in his tracks.

No… no, it couldn’t be. It can’t be- Please, please let him be wrong- Childe’s feet carry him towards the sound, dread spiraling and twisting in his gut as another awful shriek rings out and he looks up, eyes widening. He was right. Oh, he was right, and he wishes he wasn’t, because it’s you. It’s you, gripping your weapon like a vice and covered in blood, expression filled with panic and fear and pain. It’s you, still in your adventurer’s gear, bag packed with whatever stupid, insignificant item the commission wanted. It’s you, surrounded by Fatui agents- not his, thank the Archons- the rest of them laughing and sneering. It’s you, hurt and scared and looking as if you’re about to collapse onto the ground and never rise. It’s you, and Childe’s veins freeze over with cold, splintering ice. You’re pressed against a ruined wall, swiping the blade in your hands at the soldiers, who merely snicker at your weakened attempts. The leader- one of those Electro vanguards with a giant hammer- smacks the weapon aside and seizes your arm, and you let out an involuntary yelp of pain as tears prick in your eyes. The yelp is all the motivation he needs, and Childe barely feels his restraint shatter like glass. They never even saw it coming, Foul Legacy throwing his spear and ripping the agents apart as fast as lightning, vibrant purple sparks searing the grass as he roars, driven only by wrath and fury. The vanguard who grabbed you so violently shouts in surprise and horror- then everything goes silent, apart from Legacy’s heavy breathing, claws dripping with blood. He exhales, curling his talons into fist with a tight crackling noise, letting out a low, guttural growl of rage. You bite down fiercely on your tongue, trying to stay quiet, but you can’t help but gasp in pain as the slashes in your body flare, and Foul Legacy’s anger burns away as quickly as a dying candle. He turns and rushes to you, chittering frantically, only to freeze when he sees you stiffen, petrified with fright. His chirps and trills lower to soft croons, gentle and sweet and familiar, crouching slowly to your height and holding out a hand. He tentatively inches forward, hand extended and palm up, claws curling delicately around your wrist when you desperately reach for him. “A-Ajax…?” Legacy’s Abyssal heart cracks, and he swiftly gathers you in his arms, whimpering and nudging his forehead against your cheeks as you cling to him and let out anguished, hitching cries. You suck in a breath when his talons ghost over a wound, and Legacy almost sobs with despair. Some part of him- the rational, trained soldier that is Childe- tells him to get you home, heal you, make sure that you’re well- he carefully gets to his feet, holding you close to his armored chest and adjusting your head so it’s pillowed by his lavender fluff. You shudder with pain again, and Legacy gently licks his tongue over the shallow scrapes on your face, cooing softly; with a flutter of his glimmering wings he takes to the sky, his arms cradling you like you’re made of crystal and gold.

He lands near your shared home not ten minutes later, hastily unlocking the door with the key he always sees Childe using. The house is quiet and a little dusty from being empty for so long, but your bed is as soft as ever as Legacy delicately lowers you down onto the mattress. Childe is the one who tells him what to do, again, guiding his claws to gently wrap your wounds with snow white gauze. None of them are fatal, and Legacy thanks his constellation with a grumbling sigh of relief. A quiet croon slips out when he sees you fading in and out of consciousness, sweetly cupping your cheek with a clawed hand- he’s shaking. Why is he shaking? He’s not the one who nearly died- but your hand comes up to weakly grasp his, and Legacy’s heart melts and breaks and patches itself up all over again.

Your lips twitch into a shaky smile, exhausted, your fingers resting on Legacy’s and soothing the minute trembles running through his body. The Abyssal creature- your wonderful, sweet Abyssal creature- blinks slowly at you, crystalline eye filled with tears that drip down his crimson face and pool in the divots of his mask as he fights to contain the sobs that threaten to break out, and when you reach up your other hand, covered in bandages, to caress his cheek, his breath hitches and he collapses into your arms, burying his head against your neck and weeping. In a whispered voice you coo and murmur and hum to him, repeated words of “it’s okay, I’m here, I’m okay”, and he tries so, so hard to do it back to you, his own sounds cracked and stuttering, something along the lines of “don’t leave, I miss you, I’m sorry”, or as close as he can say with a mouth made for biting and gnashing. Your hands lightly tug him closer- or rather, your hands tiredly loosen and he moves to follow them- until he’s close enough for you to press a soft kiss to his forehead. Legacy immediately purrs, tearful and whimpering, and your silent offer of lifting up the blanket is met with an instance moth monster at your side, curling around your body and holding you close. He’s careful not to squeeze you, trying to get as close as possible and mold his form around yours as you rake your hands through his fluffy coppery hair, drawing more deep, comforting rumbles from within his chest, the type he makes when you’re dreadfully ill.

Cats’ purrs are healing, so you’ve heard. Perhaps Abyssal beasts’ purrs are much the same. Slowly, your eyes begin to droop, and you yawn, exhausted and worn. Foul Legacy quietly nudges you, a croon of reassurance falling from his fanged maw, claws dancing over the wraps on your skin now stained brilliant red. It hurts, it hurts like fire- but you’re safe. Safe in your bed, and in Legacy’s arms, and the tension leeches from you and dissipates into nothing. You vaguely hear a soft melody, low and rumbling and familiar from when you’ve sung Foul Legacy to sleep, and the arms around you tighten ever so slightly as the sun finally dips beneath the horizon into the locked box of night. Two weeks, three days, eight hours, and thirty minutes. That’s how long Foul Legacy refused to let you out of his sight, even after your injuries had closed and healed.

[cactusisconfused]

Ok ok, so I have another idea. (Please ignore any grammar mistakes)

Ghost and soap are on a simple mission that’s been going well enough, at least in the sense that they’ve gotten what they’ve came for.

That is until they’re making their last rounds and ghost comes across two bodies, both dead sitting in their own pools of blood.

Ghost pauses and can’t his eyes off of them. Off of the boy with dark hair that looks no more than six. A mother, blonde hair and blue eyes.

And just for that moment, ghost is back in that house, in Christmas, where he lost everything. He hears soap behind him, muttering a “bloody hell” at the sight. Ghost shakes himself out of it, they have a mission to complete after all. He pushed through, doing his best to ignore how his mind seems to have slowly taken a backseat- dissociation he’s learned it’s called.

They get on their evac eventually and ghost ignored how it’s cold. In fact everything seems cold now. Soap is talking about something, ghost really tries his best to listen, to focus, but somewhere in the Scot’s words he hears a different voice. Joesph. Then another, his mother, calling out to him, quietly.

Always quietly.

Ghost doesn’t remember landing, barely blinking when he felt a hand rest in his shoulder. Part of him screamed to rip the hand off, but he didn’t, not when he saw pale blue eyes and that beautifully stupid Mohawk kneel down in front of him. Soap was speaking, ghost knew that. Could see his lips moving, but he could tell which sounds were real anymore.

Was the sound of conversations on their base real? Or was the fire crackling real?

Is Johnny’s voice real? Or is his mother’s voice that is real? Both call for him, he wishes he could answer both calls.

He watched distantly as soap moved to help ghost stand from his seat, then to walk down the halls of the base…or the halls of the house? Was Johnny here when it happened? The memory of that night continued to blur, soap would fit in. Laughing with his nephew, his brother mother and sister in law.

But soap is alive.

Is he alive?

Ghost doesn’t remember entering a room. The lights are off, only the light from the hall giving a soft illumination. He lets soap undo his gear, always a warm hand remains on him. Soap is speaking again, about what ghost had no clue, but he think somewhere distantly that he never wants to hear it go away.

Soap guides him into the far small bed for the two men but ghost doesn’t bother to protest, not that he could anyway. His mouth didn’t exactly seem to want to move. Soap didn’t mind. Johnny never minded. Johnny gently draws patterns into ghosts now bare chest, something to keep Simon grounded. He keeps talking, about everything, about nothing.

Simon doesn’t know when the other voices stopped, or when his head came to rest in johnnys chest, his heart beat playing on loop. He knows Johnny will ask in the morning, but for right now, he has Johnny.

Johnny who is alive.

[kirrrnz]

CAN’T GET OVER YOU !!

word count: 711

18+ content MDNI!! — fem!reader, reader called “baby” and “doll”, smut!!!!! with a bit of fluff, nanami x reader, not proofread :< might edit l8rrr ! enjoy ^_^

it wasn’t like nanami to express his emotions when shit happened to him.

but when you just got up and left him because he prioritized his work over you, he couldn’t help finding himself drowning in overdue papers and lying sleepless in bed for hours on end.

nanami couldn’t stop replaying the moment in his head, the way you yelled at him for not comprehending and how he just stared at you like you were spewing nonsense he couldn’t understand.

he regrets it. he regrets letting you walk out the door. he regrets not calling you for the past few weeks.

how did it take him this long to realize he needs you?

with that, he was gripping on the steering wheel, jaw clenched to hold himself from going way over the speed limit in the pouring rain.

he was rushing into your apartment building, soaking up the lobby.

nanami couldn’t even recall how quick he ran out the elevator once it reached your floor. he wasn’t necessarily out of breath, but his breathing was staggered.

he knocked, stood there with his body soaked from the rain, white shirt sticking to his skin. you opened the door, a puzzled look on your race because you weren’t expecting company.

you were wearing a t-shirt that was much too big for you and no pants, just a lacy, mesh pair of panties.

“kento? what’re you doing here? it’s like 10 o’clock.” you say once you’d connected the body to the face, you were shocked to see him, genuinely you thought he didn’t really care about you.

but here he was, soaked and dripping at your front door.

he just looked at you, his stoned expression quickly shifting to a soft, pleading one.

“i- i just needed to see you. baby, let me in. let me explain myself.” he was pleading, he didn’t care how desperate he looked or sounded.

he needed you back.

and his wish came true. barely 10 minutes after you two “talked it out”, he had you bent over your sofa, legs spread and face burrowed into one of the cushions.

your pussy was swallowing every inch with so much vice, and he made sure you knew that. made sure you knew how tight and good your insides felt.

how much he missed them.

he didn’t have to tell you much honestly, he was behind you grunting and huffing with every thrust. he was deep in there, the cushion was soaked with your tears, maybe even some drool.

you could hardly think with how harsh he was fucking you. you lift your head up and babble out some incoherent words. he laughs.

nanami lowered himself to bite against your ear lobe, his hands gathering themselves on your ass. “i’m sorry for being an asshole, doll.” he groaned into your ear in a breathless whisper, hands gripping the flesh on your cheeks as he hurried up his thrusts; leaving you absentmindedly moaning louder into the space of your apartment.

he couldn’t help the smile that tugged his lips at how he had you. he stood back up straight and grabbed your hair, crashing his hips with all his power when he felt how tight your pussy was squeezing him.

you stayed there and took it, grabbing the top of the couch. the state you were in was so embarrassing: mouth wide open, hair sticking to the drool on your face, eyes shut, and tears marks staining your cheeks.

when he pulled out then forced himself entirely in you, you screamed. finishing all over his shaft and leaving a ring around the base that he loved to see.

one thing about nanami kento, was that after care was never a problem. he carried you to your bed, cleaning you up gently with a rag. even putting a fresh pair of panties on you.

he debated staying. nanami stared at you as you started to fall asleep. at least he thought you were. but as he was heading towards the door of your bedroom, you spoke softly to him.

“you better not be leaving, kento.” and it made his heart flutter in a way he never felt before.

he was determined to not fuck up this time. it just felt so good to him that you were his.

[chvrrycola]

STRAY KIDS X CLICHE MEETCUTES - LEE FELIX

word count | 0.7k

warnings | none

now playing . . . just go by arlo parks

the other meetcutes

it was only 8:47, and you had already decided that today was not your day. your alarm had decided not to go off, leaving you scrambling to get ready for school in time. you missed your bus, and the next one had also decided to both be super late and jammed full, so you had spent your entire journey trying to keep your face out of the bag of the guy standing in front of you.

you had ended up arriving at school after the gates shut, so you were forced to wait outside until a member of staff noticed you and eventually let you in, at which point you started running to your locker to stash your stuff, hoping you wouldn’t miss any of your first class of the day. 

a quick check over the timetable taped to the door of your locker reminded you that this was the most intense day on your schedule, forcing you to heave books, folders and assignments for your first three classes out of your bag. you clutched them to your chest, and sighed heavily as you slammed your locker shut and immediately turned to speed to your class.

though, of course, this too could not go smoothly.

unable to process what was happening in the moment, the next thing you knew was that everything you had just hauled out of your locker was now splayed all over the floor of the corridor. sheets of paper covered the tiles and the sight of your books’ spines bent over themselves made you want to cry.

you dropped to your knees, sniffing and trying to keep your emotions in check as the weight of all your bad luck hit you full force. 

it hadn’t even occurred to you what you had bumped into, or even that you had bumped into anything. as far as you could tell, this was just another random incident that the universe had decided to stack on top of all the other shitty things you had already had to deal with today. 

you only really realised that there was anybody around you at all when a boy knelt down in front of you, apologising for his carelessness as he crawled around the floor trying to help you collect up your things. 

he wasn’t someone you knew, or at least you didn’t think you recognised him through your tear-blurred eyes. he smiled when he saw you looking at him, and apologised again, which you fiercely rejected, explaining that it was all your fault and you were just a little all over the place today.

‘oh, i hope you’re alright,’ he said, ‘i can help you carry this stuff to your class if you like, i have a free period right now.’

on any other day you probably wouldn’t have accepted, would’ve insisted it was fine and that you could handle it. but today you jumped on the offer.

‘that would be great actually, if you don’t mind.’ 

he shook his head and picked up the stack he had collected, following your lead as you began to walk to your classroom. you were still nervous about being last to go into your class, not wanting to attract attention to your already dishevelled appearance, but your nerves began to fade as you spoke to your new friend.

his name was felix, and, much to your embarrassment, he told you you had met once before, very briefly, when your friend had introduced him to you as her partner on a project. he didn’t seem to mind the fact that you had forgotten, but you still cringed at the fact that you had somehow managed to make this first - or rather second - impression even worse.

you didn’t have any classes together though, so it wasn’t too big of a failure on your part, but as you walked him through your schedule for the day you found a few similarities between teachers, including the dreaded mr. son who was taking your class right before break. 

felix had even managed to make you laugh by the time you reached your classroom, placing his half of your books atop yours as he wished you good luck for the rest of your day and, as you trudged from class to class, you were thrilled to see him waiting for you, leaning against the wall outside mr. son’s office, having already collected what your friend had advised him was your favourite drink from the shop down the street.

[mingsolo]

awful summer nights

wonwoo x reader (f) / angst, romance, friends to lovers, smut / warnings: alcohol mentions, cursing, unprotected sex, that's it I think, pretty light / wc: 5k — r: 21+

For most people, the hot air of mid June, when the sun was high and its rays shone bright almost all day long, was certainly a blessing. 

Certainly not for you.

Exhausted, despite not having done much all morning, you stretch out. Laying on the fluffy rug in your room, the fan on maximum power makes your hair blow up in all directions. You wish nothing more than for the sun to go to the other side of the planet. Also, the heat is making your mind dizzier, not letting you think straight about what happened earlier in the day. You take your phone and see the text message again, as you have been doing all morning:

‘See you tonight, I have something for you.’

“Jeon Wonwoo, you idiot.” you curse under your breath. He had been away the past weeks, barely responding to your texts. He didn’t mention where he was going or what for, and you got angry at yourself for thinking he was obliged to tell you.

A new text interrupts your thoughts. Glancing over it quickly thinking it could be another message from Wonwoo you feel guilty for being slightly disappointed it’s from Yeri, your best friend, and the host for tonight’s party. 

“Come down! We're going shopping.” Yeri’s text it’s followed by a picture of her leaning against her brand new pink convertible’s door, flashing a full teeth smile and her fingers framing her small face. You scoff, texting her back that you’ll be there in a minute. With the little energy you have, you put on your shoes and leave the apartment.

“Well damn, look at this!” you say, passing Yeri by and hopping straight into the shiny pink car. You have seen pictures of it already, since she sent everyone at least fifty of them from all angles, but seeing it up close was obviously more impactful. “This is Barbie's car! everyone will be looking as you pass by on this thing” you raved, hopping in and feeling the leather seats against your bare legs. 

“That’s the point sweetie,” Yeri smiles, getting in the driver's side and putting on her sunglasses. You laugh with her, feeling the excitement to ride on her new toy, but while Yeri is busy fixing her hair on the front mirror before getting going, your mind wanders back to Wonwoo.

You are head over heels in love with him and you shouldn’t. That wasn’t the deal. 

.

.

.

At the mall, you continue to drag your feet, wiping away the sweat over your brows thanks to the open roof, letting all the sunrays land on the top of your head. Yeri on the other hand seems fresh as a daisy, coming in and out of all clothing stores, not quite finding what she is looking for. 

“Yeri, the party is today, I can’t believe you don’t have an outfit ready yet” you grunt, finally sitting on a bench inside one particular store, facing the summer sets on display. 

“Of course I have mine ready, I chose it like a month ago” she answers, picking out a dress from one of the racks. 

You arch your browns confused. “So we here on your birthday, looking for random outfits” 

“No silly, this outfit is not for me” she interrupts you with the biggest smile ever, holding against her body a baby blue crop spaghetti dress, adorned with white flowers. “It’s for you.”

“Huh?.” you shove away the dress as she hands it over for you to try it on. “I’m not wearing that.” you refuse, now being dragged to the changing room.

“Come on! a gift for me, you will look so pretty!” she pouts and nags, using her baby voice that annoys you as much as it makes you soft for her. “There’s no way you will show up at my party in a t-shirt and shorts” she huffs, arching her eyebrow knowing exactly that’s what you were planning on doing.

“I already bought you a gift you know, besides what’s wrong with shorts, it’s hot!”

“Yeah, and this dress is pretty, lightweight and short! So no excuses, try it on.” She pushes you behind the curtain of the dressing booth and waits for you. 

Defeated you do as told. Just because it's her birthday you can’t refuse letting her get away with this. And what is wrong with looking cute for once, if it’s to please your best friend on her special day? You tell yourself as Yeri hops behind you, you look in the mirror, surprised  and scandalized at how good you look with such a short skirt and prominent cleavage.

“Well take it!” She signs, getting out of the changing room with an ear to ear smile.

“Fine.” you sigh, not really mad about it at all.

.

.

.

Fuck this heat. 

You huff and puff, wiping away the drops of sweat from your forehead, again. You stand across the street from where the party is taking place, on the other side in full bloom. Music blasting loudly as far as two blocks away, hanging lights illuminating every window, from the first floor to the rooftop. You spot friends of Yeri and other familiar faces coming in and out of the main entrance, everyone seemingly enjoying themselves despite being under the humid weather. 

Pressing the gift against your chest, you breathe in and out again for the last time before walking towards the party. The other gift, your outfit— was awkwardly revealing, but it helped let the air ease the heat against your skin. 

As soon as you step in from the stone tiled floors of the entrance, you see it’s even more crowded with people than you could imagine. Seemingly half city was here and you got anxious just knowing you had to walk in the middle of all these people. You make your way between the sweaty skin of everyone you pass by, pushing your way to the stairs desperately wanting to reach the upstairs patio. 

The stairs are also fully crowded by people coming down or like you, wanting to go up to the second floor. You press yourself against the walls to let people pass you, avoiding as much as possible to come in contact with anybody. The sensation of others touching your exposed skin was a hard pass in your book.

When you finally reach the second floor, you walk straight to the big balcony. With a final shove you get to the patio doors and find with relief that there’s just a few people outside. Your eyes look for Yeri or another of your friends, desperate to find a familiar face. But definitely not that face. Just not yet. 

“Y/n!” The squeaky voice of an already tipsy Yeri greets you from the other side of the patio, coming towards you with open arms. “My god you look too good!” your friend says loudly, making you spin over your heels, modeling the perfectly crafted outfit for her. 

“You do look great Y/n, like a doll.” the voice of Dami, another of your good friends, reassures Yeri’s statement. 

“I told you Dami! She should let me dress her more often” Yeri smiles again, taking a drink from one of the waiters and handing it over to you. You roll your eyes and just let her praise you, or more so herself about how good you look.

As Yeri and Dami begin catching you up with who and what’s going on in the party so far, a shiver goes down your spine, feeling a familiar intense stare on the back of your neck. Instinctively you turn over your shoulder, spotting Wonwoo looking at you— and also a girl you didn’t know speaking enthusiastically to him, arm intertwined with his. You look away immediately, trying to catch up with what your friends were saying. 

“Stop, I’m not your barbie,” you shove Yeri’s hand off from pinching your cheek, and take a sip of your drink. With your free hand you put the gift on her hands. “Happy birthday again, here’s for another year keeping up with your shenanigans.” you say, kissing her cheek with a loud smack. 

Yeri squeaks and thanks you again, not before reassuring that the best gift is that you look so pretty today. You brush over her compliments, awkwardly trying not to spin thanks to the short length of your dress, but trying not to think much of it. You did look good after all, and it made you feel nice that people were noticing. 

“Y/n, you ok?” Dami asks with narrowed eyes. 

“I’m fine, is just the heat… it’s making me dizzy” 

“Y/n doesn’t stand the heat,” Yeri pouts, “Sorry for being born this time of the year.” She mimics crying, and you push her lightly. 

“I’m going to freshen up, walking between all the people made me kinda nauseous.” 

“Want help?.” Dami asks.

“I’m fine Dam, just wait for me here, please don’t get lost or I will never find you again.” 

You excuse yourself and walk towards the door, looking for the upstairs bathroom, glancing over Wonwoo quickly again— watching as he hasn’t shaken off the girl from his arm. You try not to mind it, getting away from the patio. As soon as you reach the bathroom you close the door behind you. 

Who could be that girl? And why is she clingling over him? You shake your head. You have no right to be thinking this way. You swore that you wouldn’t be that girl. Getting jealous over him, as if he was your boyfriend. When he is not. 

What Wonwoo and you had was a friendship, arranged with certain special terms, for those days when both of you were in need of a certain type of company. “Fuck buddies.”, Yeri concluded when you finally confessed to her that Wonwoo and you occasionally slept together without compromise. “Yeah, fuck buddies.” you sighed at the time, realizing that’s not what you really wanted. 

But it was too late now to tell him you needed more from him, that you wanted him to be yours only. He had told you when all of this started, that if someday one of you got serious with someone, that was it, no hard feelings or resentment. And you have agreed, that was the deal. Now that you thought he might find that someone to be serious with, it was more painful than you thought it would be. They’re just talking, you don’t even know if she’s with him, you tried to calm yourself, but it wasn’t working.

It's just that, you really were so afraid of losing him. These kinds of relationships never work out once someone backs up. The friendship won't be the same as it was, and it pained you that it couldn’t be more than that either.

After splashing water over your face and cleaning the sweat over your skin, you take the phone from your purse and look again at the message from this morning. ‘See you tonight, I have something for you.’ Maybe the text wasn’t even for you in the first place. Your chest tightens. Trying to forget about the whole thing, you decide to just  get a drink or two and leave, there were so many people that Yeri wouldn’t even notice anyway. 

Before getting out you decide to delete the message to avoid looking at it again and again, when three dots appear on the screen below it. Your eyes are wide open, glued to the screen. Waiting. 

.

.

.

Wonwoo’s eyes get fixated on your back as soon as you make your way to Yeri and Dami. God damn Yeri, I swear. The birthday girl smirks at him once she notices him watching. He would have to thank her later for having you come dressed like this, knowing she did it to get to his nerves intentionally. 

“Y/n doesn’t deserve to be anyone’s fuck bud, so you if you want her to be with you for real, better buckle up.” Yeri had practically threatened him over text when she knew about the arrangement between the two of you. Wonwoo wasn’t really mad that you told her about it, you were best friends and he knew Yeri could be very intuitive, and persuasive. “I know, I know…” Wonwoo texted her back. He wanted to be more than that to you as well, but he didn’t know how or when to tell you. “What if she doesn’t want this to change?” He asked.

“Tonight, tell her and find out.” Yeri then told him she was choosing your outfit for the party, letting him know he was completely ruined. And hell, he was.

He can’t avoid getting fuzzy at the sight of the very short skirt barely covering your ass. How the thin straps of your dress lay onto your collarbones and tiny drops of sweat covers your chest. A drop or two roll past your cleavage.

Well fuck me. He swears to himself, as you spin on your feet per Yeri’s request showing a little of what’s underneath your dress. He notices the people checking you up shamelessly and his blood boils with a possessive feeling that makes him groan slightly under his breath. Wonwoo shook his head. She’s not yours. He didn’t like it, thinking of you as a possession. Yet the thought was present so often lately.

By his side, Jeonghan is ranting about something loudly, making his already drunk sister laugh uncontrollably. She clings over his arm as she has done since he got up here, and tells him something he can’t really pay attention to. 

For a moment you glance over his direction, as just as quickly you look away. He gulps down the knot on his throat and wishes Jeonghan’s sister wasn’t tied up with his arm. She’s a nice girl but is so drunk already, so he tries to softly unlink their arms but she is not letting him, and he doesn’t want to shove her off just like that. Wonwoo shoots glances at Jeonghan trying to make him take the hint and take his sister away, but he is just as drunk or even more so, and even if he was sober he would make him suffer anyway.

His eyes are locked again on the back of your neck. Seeing how you sip on your drink cautiously. Then you give Yeri something and kiss her heartily. Wonwoo smiles. The love for your friends is always showing. He likes to think he is one of them. He knows he is, unless your situation changes that for you. He needed to ask, he needed to know. 

Just as he is about to politely shove Jeonghan's sister off and walk towards you, Wonwoo watches you tell something to Yeri and Dami and quickly sprinting off the patio, glancing over at him before disappearing inside. 

“Sorry, I gotta go.” He finally and firmly takes Jeonghan sister's arm off him and walks between people trying to reach you before you decide to leave for good. 

Wonwoo notices you entering the bathroom, closing the door behind you. He sighs relieved. At least he knows there’s only one way for you to get out there, so he’ll wait so you can go to a place without people, and talk. His right hand goes to the inside of his pocket, toying with the contents inside, for a moment he is hopeful.

About ten minutes later anxiety takes the best out of him. He thinks of calling you, but decides on texting you instead, hoping you decide to come out and talk to him.

“Are you alright? I’m outside.”

You read the message a few times not knowing what to respond to. Why?. Wasn't he accompanied now?. You type in a response, but keep deleting what you write over and over. If he’s outside the door, what's the point?. You sigh out loud, nerves and anticipation eating you alive. It’s better if you just come out and talk, he surely wants to tell you about the girl and settle things over. 

Yeah, it’s better to deal with this quickly.

As soon as you open the door you meet his eyes a few feet from where you stand. Wonwoo is leaning against the upstairs. A soft smile draws on his face when he sees you. You try to smile back normally but you only manage to make a weird grin that makes you want to throw yourself down the stairs.

“Hi,” he whispers with that low tone you know so well. “You look amazing.” He twitches trying not to look so much down over your outfit, or the lack of it. 

“Thanks, you too.” you mumble, heart thumping feeling Wonwoo’s dark eyes over your body, despite trying not to. 

“Are you alright?,” He asks again, sensing something is wrong because your eyes are kinda puffy and you can’t smile back like you always do. 

You breathe in softly, gaining courage. “Can we go downstairs, where there’s less people?.”  Wonwoo hums and nods in response, taking your hand and leading you through the sea of people down the stairs— trying not to let anyone touch you too much. Your heart beats so fast that is the only sound you can focus on, despite the loud music blasting in the house. Quickly, he finds an empty corridor, away from all the people at the party in the main halls. 

“What happened?,” He says first, back leaning onto the corridor walls. “I can tell you are upset.” 

“Uhm, it’s nothing.” 

He gets closer. “Your eyes are all big and shiny like when you cry or are about to.” 

He knew you too well. And it was making you feel worse about what you saw upstairs.  Just ask him. Get this over with. “Wonwoo, is there something you want to tell me about?.” 

Wonwoo seemed confused, watching you look away at him, your shoulders stiffening. “Is there something in particular that you want me to tell you?.” 

You sigh, getting frustrated.

“Is it about where I have been the past week?.” 

“No! Well, yeah, that too.” you frown, remembering he went away to God knows where for a week and didn’t tell you about it, you had to find out by texting him, receiving a “I'm out of town.” in response. “Who’s your friend from upstairs?”. 

Wonwoo sighs, a faint smile on his lips. 

“Just tell me. ” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Just tell me if this is it, I promise I won’t make things difficult for you.” 

Wonwoo leans forward, so close that it sends shivers down your spine. Then he makes you jolt as he wraps his hands around your waist, tugging his chin on the space between your neck and shoulder. “What are you doing?.” you say, not really moving or pushing him out. 

“She’s Jeonghan's sister ,” He tightens the grip around your waist, facing you again, “Why would I be here with anyone else if I told you I wanted to give you something tonight?” He couldn’t deny being amused that you were jealous over some girl he just met. But again, that’s the confirmation he needs to know that you want him as much as he wants you to be his only. 

You look at him confused and hurt, watery eyes about to burst out with tears. “What do you mean? you were hanging onto her.”

“Nuh-uh, she was hanging onto me,” He smiles, “You know Jeonghan can be an asshole if he wants to, and he just shoved her to me hoping she wouldn’t bother him too much.” Wonwoo felt bad talking of Jeonghan’s sister as if she was a thing, but the reality was that as soon as you entered the rooftop patio looking so radiant, he forgot the name she had given to him minutes prior. 

“I’m not jealous,” you press your hand over his chest, trying to push him off, but with so little strength he is not buying it. “I shouldn’t be, right? We are not together.” 

Wonwoo hums, slightly hurt from your words. But it was true, you were not yet together. 

“Come with me, this hallway is not where I want you to have what I got for you.” You frown, as Wonwoo takes your hand and leads you back between the sea of people until you both are outside by the back door of the house. 

You look up to the rooftop, spotting Yeri and the rest of your friends laughing vividly and having a great time. The rest of the people spreaded outside the house, drinking and talking, seem to pay no mind to you two.  Wonwoo passed between some bushes, leading to a stone tiled path to the back garden, two little guest bungalows at the back. Yellow lights inside of them.

Wonwoo takes out what seems like a key, and enters the one at the right side. You follow behind him, eyes wide open.

“How do you have a key for this?.” you ask him as he closes the door.

“I asked Yeri to get it for me.” 

“Huh?, Yeri?” you were confused asking yourself if your best friend was with Wonwoo on this scheme of making you feel jealous over Jeonghan’s supposed sister or what was happening. “Wonwoo!.” 

Wonwoo shushes you, which annoys a little, but you get distracted by him placing you in the seat of the couch inside the bungalow’s small living room, sitting in front of you. He then takes out a little black velvet box from his pocket, opening in front of you. 

You look at what’s inside, taking out a shiny silver necklace. Your favorite charm hanging on it. This was the same necklace you had as a child, that you lost on a trip overseas with your parents on your high school graduation. You remember telling Wonwoo on one of those nights in his apartment, lying beside him, how much you missed having it. Sadly it was custom handmade and the little jewelry store that made them had closed long before you had lost it.

Your mouth hangs open as you admire the form of the charm, identical as you remembered it. “Wonwoo… How did you find the exact one?.” 

“I know how much this charm means to you, so I looked out for the owner of the store,” He said, as he took the necklace and turned you over to put it across your neck. “I just described it to him in detail just as you told me, and he remembered exactly what it was, I just had to wait until he was done to come back.”

“Wonwoo!” you jumped out as he finished hooking the clasp of the necklace and hugged him tightly.

“I wanted to tell you something tonight,” Wonwoo buried his head on your neck again, brushing it with his lips softly. “You are the one for me, I don’t want anyone else.”

You close your eyes, letting his scent envelop you, both arms wrapped around his shoulders firmly. His lips brush against your skin as he speaks, you feel a shiver down your spine, letting his words sink into your mind. 

Wonwoo doesn’t need you to say you feel the same, cause he knows. He‘s pressed against you, and you could feel him. His love, his desire, his passion. But this time it's slightly different from the before, because he doesn’t rush things out, he stays still and lets himself be embraced by you. After a moment, you slowly break the hug and look him in the eyes, dark gaze glossy of adoration. And you know yours are the same. He leans and traces soft pecks over your shoulder blades. “I’m sorry I was away,” He lifted his head and pressed his forehead against yours. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

You let out a sigh, feeling your chest tighten by realizing he had gone to get this for you, but with your heart blooming inside you started crying softly. You smiled and he did it too, eyeing your lips until he pulled you into a kiss. His hands slowly go down from your waist to the side of your legs, finding a path under your short skirt. 

“Wonwoo,” you hum against his lips. This was Yeri’s party after all and someone could come at any minute. 

“The little devil would kill me if I let you go right now, you think she gave me these keys just so we could talk?.” A lustful smile drawn on his lips, reading your mind. “The door is locked, and you must know how good you look in this outfit.” 

You put your hands on his chest, breaking apart from his face to ask him about what he just said. “Do you love me?.” 

Wonwoo paused his movements for a second, realization hitting him hard. Your pleading eyes about to cry out again, this time a different kind of tears waiting to roll down your cheeks. 

“I do love you,” He breathes, pushing himself against you. Hurried hands run along your waist and down the curves of your ass, his fingers playing with the waistband of your underwear. “I love you so fucking much.”

You then kiss him again, this time roughly, as he grabs you by your tights and lifts you until you wrap your legs around him. Without breaking the kiss he walks over the room at the back of the bungalow. Brownish curtains reflect the yellow light from inside. Wonwoo turns around and sits on the edge of the bed, placing you on his lap. You kept kissing him, hands messing his perfectly styled hair. He's going to undo his belt, and when that’s gone, his fingers are back on your clothed heat, brushing a finger along your already wet center. 

“Can’t believe you thought I could be interested in somebody else.” Wonwoo’s voice sounds huskier than usual, pride fueling his lust over your little jealousy. “No fucking way someone else make me look away from you.”

You buck your hips against his crotch, feeling the hardness of his length. You break the kiss and quickly remove Wonwoo’s shirt and throw it away. Knowing exactly what he wants to do, you lift your hips a little, giving him access to your center. Wonwoo brushes his fingers once more, palming you over you for a while, and easily sliding two fingers inside you. A moan, and then soft whimpers come from you as his fingers begin rubbing your clit. Both stop kissing, just looking at each other as he finger fucks you with a fast pace.  Your hips roll against his hand, and he can’t look away from how your eyes get heavy lidded, and you try hard not to close them. With his free hand Wonwoo pulls down the top of your dress, exposing your breasts and he begins kissing them. You throw your head back, the pleasure of his hot tongue rolling over your sensitive nibs and the noises he makes with his mouth as he bites and licks are driving you insane. 

Wonwoo’s fingers keep sliding in and out of you and the stimulation is almost bringing you to the edge, you only resisting the urge to come because you are desperate for him to fuck you properly. Again, he seems to read your mind because next thing he’s removing his fingers, making you whine by feeling the sudden emptiness. He stands up, moving you gently, even if he wants to be as rough as he can be.

Once he’s standing up, he bends you over the bed, putting you on hand and knees. He pulls your drenched panties down until they reach your feet and throws them away. He undo the buttons of his pants first and massages the curve of your ass for a second before aligning himself with your entrance. 

“This view.” He groans, licking his lips and caressing the side of your tights softly.

“Please Wonwoo,” you whine. the spiral in your lower stomach intensifies by his words. “Fuck me already.”Wonwoo chuckles, the tip of his dick already touching your clit. You whimper as he finally pushes himself inside you, his eyes shutting down by the sensation of your tight center receiving him so well. 

“Fuck, Y/n.” he groans, hands firmly pressing at the sides of your hips. You waste no time and, driven by desire, start rolling your hips rapidly. Wonwoo’s now thrusting inside and out at a fast pace that is making you both see stars and feel numb quickly. 

He bites his lip, trying not to be too loud, with every thrust. Every time he goes in and out of your squeezing pussy feels like it might make him come, but he holds on to dear life to keep on longer. He caresses the curve from your hips, your spine and shoulders, and his eyelids get heavy. The sound of your fast breathing combined with sweat beds rolling down from your back as he pounds in and out of you driving him crazy.  He then leans, chest pressing against your back. One of his arms slides under your breasts heading towards your clit, where he begins rubbing on your clit in motion circles. 

“Wonwoo.” you moan, the contact of his cold hand suddenly pressing on your heat making you shiver. “Hard. Fast, please…”

“Yeah?,” Wonwoo groans, pushing himself now harder and faster per your command. He listens attentively to every noise you make, as his fingers rub your clit, trying to keep the same pace. His chin is resting on your shoulder blades, and you lean to the side looking for even more contact. “Just say the words, love.”

He realizes you are looking for more of him and he leans, connecting his lips with yours. As you kiss messily and hurriedly, him going in and out, your soon release feels now even more intensely on your lower stomach. 

Your legs begin to shake, you know you won't last much longer if he continues to overstimulate every sensitive part of you. With a breathy moan you announce your high is crashing over you, and Wonwoo presses himself even more onto your skin. He tugs your hair instinctively, making you cry, and in that moment you come without warning, coating him entirely. Not much longer and he is done for as well. You can feel his load filling your walls up entirely.

“Oh… fuck” he mumbles, as he spills all inside you, still hugging you tight making sure nothing gets out. You collapse in the bed, and with the little strength he has, Wonwoo grabs you by the waist, falling down with you. 

He stays for a few moments on top of you, breathing heavily, moving aside when he has recovered control of his breath. You on the other side, stay chest pressed on the bed sheets, numb body unable to move an inch. 

“Let me clean you up,” Wonwoo’s raspy voice says as he gets up slowly and walks to the bathroom. You smile, eyes still closed, heart racing inside your chest. He comes back immediately after, and you roll over letting him take care of you. 

“You don’t have to,” you mumble, beginning to recover your breath. 

“I don’t see you putting up a fight,” He chuckles, cleaning the mess between your legs with a warm towel.  “Now that you are officially mine, you will get treated like a princess.” You reflect on his words. You don’t want anyone else to have him, and you are sure he is the only one you want, but Wonwoo has never struck you as the possessive type.  

Wonwoo folds the towel and puts it away, laying by your side, watching the dim lights of the built-in lamps on the ceiling. “A part of you is mine now, as much as a part of me is yours.” he whispers, caressing your face.

You press your body against him, wrapping your arm over his chest and kissing it softly. He hums and hugs you as well, both embracing the silence of the room a little longer, in contrast with the boisterous sounds of people partying just a few feet away.

[janovavalen]

✧AWKWARD CONFRONTATIONS || percy jackson x fem!reader

summary: percy jackson’s first days on camp were hell to say the least—fist day and he got bullied, but when he sneaks away to be alone he finds an interesting girl in the forest.

part one.

part two.

part three.

part four.

part five.

word count: 2402

warnings: reader is daughter of athena, sister of annabeth, horrid flirting, reader lowkey not felling percy for the first half’s of this story line.

THIS IS THE END OF THIS SERIES¡!

as percy rolled in his bead with immediate regret of waking up. he wished posiden decided he didn’t want him as a son anymore and drowned him in his bed. if that were to happen, he’d be beyond happy.

remembering the day before, what she said and how she said it. how desperate she was to leave him in the forest alone. his face growing red with embarrassment he slapped his hands over his face while aggressively throwing his body around in the bed, the blankets falling to the floor while he rolled over and groaned out loud.

just as he finished his tantrum, grover walked in with luke close behind. they had been trying to find ways to get an answer from y/n without pestering her for her feelings. grover said he’d hate to bug her about something she can’t explain or doesn’t want to, especially with them.

‘percy, why is your blanket on the floor?’ luke pointed out the obvious while his finger pointed at the dark blue blanket on the floor.

percy sat up in a rush while he looked between the blanket at them and nervously laughed with his face beat down red—‘o-oh y’know, just…pretty hot last night so i guess me sleeping didn’t want the blanket anymore.’ he told them while he stood up in a rush and picked the discarded blanket and placed it back on his bed.

‘right, uhm—so we were thinking at breakfast we talk to y/n, grover will first and i can second later today. grover talks pretty well with people so i don’t see why she won’t have a soft spot for him’ luke exposed to percy who’s heart beat in a very painful way when he thought of her or whenever her name was brought up.

‘um, right…yeah we can do that’ seeing percy’s unsettled face and body movement, grover walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder—‘percy, it’s okay. you don’t need to stress about it—‘

as grover began, percy shook his head in disagreement—‘no, no grover it is something i need to stress about, okay? she flat out rejected me and i already feel desperate when you guys say your going to talk to her…i mean what if she says she literally hates me, or what if she mentions how i tripped over a rock yesterday—a pebble!’ percy groaned once more as he placed his hands on his face.

grover and luke shared a look before smiling softly at percy—‘don’t think like that, she isn’t like that—well the pebble part yeah that could’ve knocked down some points, but hey…she won’t just reject you the way she did. i’ve seen y/n reject others and trust me she’s flat out told them she’s not interested and listed things they’ve done over time.’ luke revealed to percy who felt a sense of relief.

‘so percy, don’t think negatively about the situation, don’t worry…okay?’ luke added with a soft smile which grover gave one as well while percy thought it was a bit off on how they were both smiling at him like a kid that did something wrong and the parents said—“we’re not mad just disappointed”—giving them a small smile back he nodded his head.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ���　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

at breakfast percy sat with luke who sat across from him, his plate of breakfast with small portions of different things but a whole load of blueberries and strawberries. nibbling on small bits of each fruit, his eyes trained on grover and y/n who spoke quietly in the field.

he tried to read the body language from across the way but could only pick up how she’d straighten her back every now and again, her hand fixing her hair to place it behind her ear, her eyes would move form the table back to grover who spoke with his hands.

y/n seemed uncomfortable…and percy felt so bad for it because it was him that caused it. looking down at his plate and moving around the fruit and foods luke noticed and turned to see y/n sneak a glance at percy before turning back around.

‘come on…don’t look so beat down about it, not to excite you or anything but she just looked at you—‘

‘what?—huh!’ percy whisper shouted while he looked over at her only to see she was turned back around, he was a bit late but he knows luke couldn’t lie about something like that.

‘was it a good or a bad look?’ her questioned quickly.

‘it looked good’ he told simply with a shrug.

‘did she look like she felt bad or she was going to talk to me?’ percy asked once more. luke tried to think back on how she looked—her eyebrows frowned, her lips turned down a bit, her hands rested by her stomach as she picked at her fingers. —‘she looked like she felt bad, but also looked like she needed to talk to you’ luke told him.

‘oh my gosh, oh my gosh—what do i do if she does? i can’t just speak freely. oh my gosh, i’m going to throw up…’ percy groaned while placing his head in his hands once more.

luke laughed and wished he could’ve taken a picture but was interrupted when grover who sat down aggressively and abruptly—‘okay! okay…dude, your totally good’ grover cleared for percy who let out a dramatic sigh—‘how do you know?’ percy asked in a rush.

‘okay so, she said she was scared because she’d never actually felt something like that for someone and that when you admitted to liking her she froze up and didn’t know what to do so had to leave before she embarrassed herself, she said if she did she would’ve left camp’ grover repeated what y/n said to percy who sat close to him.

‘see what did i say? if she wanted to reject you, she would’ve’ luke smiled at percy whose face was red once more—‘okay but what do i do? like do u talk to her? or leave it alone—‘

‘she said she’ll talk to you, later today…after dinner’ grover revealed making percy’s world shatter, he was so nervous he wanted to throw up and die.

‘are you sure—‘

‘yes! percy it’s okay, it’s going to be fine just…don’t trip over a pebble again…k’ay?’ grover told him with a hand on his shoulder leaving percy to give a tight lipped smile and nod.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 🌊　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

percy never wished time would speed up more than right now. the whole day, percy had been sneaking glances at y/n. sometimes they’d reciprocate and sometimes he’d stare for too long where grover or luke would have to snap him out of it.

at archery practice, he stared so hard that the arrow almost shot someone’s foot who sat in the grass while they fixed their arrow, they let him know how they felt very verbally.

when they were sword practicing he would look at y/n and annabeth who practiced together on the hill, away from everyone as they always did—he almost got slashed across the face.

when dinner finally came around he purposely sat a table away down y/n, and when it came for grabbing their food, he was lucky enough to land a spot in line next to y/n—and annabeth too—but mainly y/n. she stood in front of him while he stood behind.

it gave him the time to see how tall she was, she was a little over the same hight as annabeth, but he was a bit taller—he’d hope he got the hight from his dad, if it was from his mom, he wouldn’t grow any taller for the rest of his life…a sad short old man who got rejected so hard—

‘hey percy’ a soft voice spoke. looking up to see y/n grabbing her food but her head turned a little to look at him, he stumbled across his words and looked between her e/c eyes.

‘hey, y/n…what’s up?’ he awkwardly asked with his hands holding his plate as they started to sweat.

‘nothing…grover told you didn’t he?’ she asked for clarity which percy nodded to—‘i’ll be at the lake, later…you don’t have to go or even talk to me…i understand if—‘

‘no, no, i want to, i need to—well not like that, just i'd really like to talk to you…so, yeah..’ he mentally abused himself by throwing rocks at his imaginary self in his head while he grew a bit embarrassed by tripping over his words so bad.

she softly smiled and walked away with annabeth who grinned at her.

hurrying to the table where grover and luke sat, he smiled at what just happened.

‘what just—‘

‘y/n talked to him, i heard it’ grover told luke who ‘ooed’ at percy who rolled his eyes and shoved him in the shoulder a little.

‘wait what do i—‘

‘just wing it…don’t think too much or you’ll make your head hurt, don’t overdo yourself but don't not do anything at all, you’ll be okay’ luke told him with a smile.

‘yeah and definitely don’t wear your hair like that’ grover told him with a shake of his head.

percy reached up to touch his dried out curls—‘what’s wrong with my hair?’ he asked sheepishly. luke and grover looked at each other before looking at percy who would fall victim to their male makeover.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 🌊　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

later that night when everyone was ready for bed and in their own cabins, percy walked out of his after being tossed around and changed several times. luke decided he’d wear a plain white shirt with jeans and grover helped him out on his curls since he had a set of his own.

his hair a little damp, but not enough to drip onto his shirt. his shoes being the same converse he always had. wiped his sweaty hands on his pants he took a deep breath and walked down and through to the lake where she said she’d be.

when he got there nobody was there, he must have beat her to it. sighing as he walked only to dock, he looked around before sitting on the edge of it, his converse touching the water slightly as he moved it with the tip of his shoe.

his arms on both sides of him as he looked down into the water. the night was quiet and dimly lit with the touches that were planted across the whole camp. with his legs moving slowly he thought of what could happen.

if anything bad came out of tonight again, he was going back home—

‘taking a late night swim?’ he heard from behind him. looking fastly with his head turned he was met with y/n who wore jean shorts and a white long sleeved shirt with black high top converse like his own. her hair was down and she wore no makeup.

she looked beautiful.

‘yup, heard the waters amazing after dark, sharks and crabs and other sea creatures come out’ he jokes while she shook her head, making her way next to him as she sat down with her hands on her lap, her fingers playing with each other.

the whole tension was quiet and very awkward between them. you could practically slice it with a butcher knife. clearing his throat while y/n looked at him, she began to speak.

‘i didn’t reject you yesterday…’ she started off quiet. he turned to her immediately and looked all over her soft glistening face that seemed to glow with the light of the fires nearby.

‘grover told me you felt like you were rejected, and was embarrassed about it all night and half of the day…i’m so sorry i made you feel like that, percy…it’s just—‘

seeing she was starting to feel bad and look uncomfortable, percy stopped her and held his hand on her hands that rested on her lap—‘no, there’s nothing to be sorry for. you don’t need to apologize for that—‘

‘but i do percy, i do. i push things away and expect them to stay away without any regard for how people might feel. i feel so bad because your an amazing person and…and i like you too.’ when she said this his hand didn’t move from hers but he found himself scooting closer as she spoke, his heart beating so fast he was afraid if they were in a cartoon he’d have that goofy heart animated while it pumped out of his body.

‘i like you to, and i was scared to admit it because i don’t want to hurt you in the future…i could never forgive myself if i did…and i just, i didn’t know what to say.’ she told him with a quiet voice, her eyes stayed on his while he shook his head and his eyebrows frowned in sympathy.

‘it’s nothing to be sorry for…and i understand how you feel. i’m just happy you told me how you felt instead of keeping it to yourself—granted i had grover talk to you and all’ he shrugged a shoulder while y/n laughed a bit her mood lifted.

the air got quiet nice more and percy mumbled—‘you look very pretty by the way…i don’t know if i said it but i just wanted to say it to you, well—you look pretty all the time to be honest i just don’t ever tell you but i wanted to now so you know’ he ranted again making y/n’s face grow warm as she smiled sweetly.

looking him in his eyes she blinked lightly before saying—‘you look pretty handsome too, i like what you’ve done with the gist it looks pretty this way’ she said, grabbing her hand from his and touching the slight wet but dried out messy curls. he blushed deeply and looked at her before smiling and looking out into the distance.

after a bit y/n and his converse touched the tip of the water, and not soon after she placed her head onto his shoulder, smiling like a idiot.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 🌊　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

from that week on percy made sure he had grover do his hair every day and even between the day throughout. and every day, y/n said how she loved it and sometimes would style it on her own.

[bo0zey]

Did I miss "back from the war" recreation or is that not happening

OK so i've been meaning to address this for a while because it’s actually something i've been genuinely annoyed/sad/upset about; my original plan to recreate the post was to go to riot fest & have someone take pics of me during MCR live in person (caption wouldve been something like ‘when will mcr--omg they;re Back from the Warfdskns’ lol idk). i ended up 2nd row from the barrier & i was like OMG bc i didn’t expect to get so close & i was like ‘WOW these r gonna b such GR8 PICTURES!!i;m so lucky!!this is gENIUS!’ & so my plan was literally going according to/even better than planned right?? i mean the fact that i was ~a few feet away from the stage n was ~1.5hrs away from seeing mcr LIVE??? my plan was going along SUSPICIOUSLY well..everything was falling into place TOO perfectly...it was almost to good to be true right??? IT WAS. everything went to shit & my plan fell thru during the last band before MCR when my body suddenly fell victim to the effects of being crowd crushed for >7 hours straight; i experienced syncope & was pulled over the barrier & out of the pit by security.

sooooo, you didn’t ‘miss’ anything; the post was supposed to be recreated at the concert, but the universe pulled an uno-reverse on me when it remembered i’m on the universal ‘Do Not Ever Allow to Be Truly Happy’ list lol. i meant to post an update abt my failed plan afterwards, but tbh the actual event in itself made me wanna fr kms, and i felt even guiltier/worse for being unable to fulfill my promise to u all bc i fr planned on recreating it at the concert. 'ok but u were still at the concert after u got pulled out’ ok physically yes but mentally N-Ooo. due to the hypoxia (lack of blood blow/oxygen to the brain) i’d obtained secondary to being crowd crushed PLUS the psychological trauma of being removed against my living breathing dying will from the pit (btw the psychological trauma has nothing to do with being crowd-crushed but im not gonna get into that turmoil rn lol), i was stuck in an altered mental state for the remainder of the concert. i was dissociated for mcr’s entire set until i woke up the next morning & it took ~3-4 days for my body to fully recover from the physical trauma of being crowd crushed.

i still plan on recreating the post eventually, but tbh it’s not rlly my top priority atm bc 1) i still can’t come to terms w/ the fact i lost my 1 n only chance to experience MCR live & 2) imo seeing MCR live was the perfect opportunity to recreate the post & that clearly didn’t work out for me sooo now i have no idea how else i can top that idea :( .

[calibrijack]

hope is restored im going back to physical therapy

[mildmayfoxe]

my fuckign !! parents are coming tomorrow

[fingertipsmp3]

Another thing that happened tonight is I incinerated a weed brownie for no reason 👍🏻

[trashpremiium]

taking care of myself not because i actually care about my own wellbeing but because im a massive quitter and don’t like when things are hard

[nezuscribe]

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?

warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it

word count: 10.9K (whoops)

note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3

jjk masterlist

never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn’t love you, but there’s a first for everything. 

you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights. 

his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to. 

and he seems to despise you.

you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore. 

he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you. 

but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back. 

you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three. 

but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed. 

he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything. 

after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up. 

and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you. 

ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans. 

you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him. 

not that it mattered now. 

all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.

you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip. 

whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.

any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry. 

he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away. 

you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else. 

“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes. 

“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left. 

it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer. 

sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up. 

for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity. 

but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from. 

“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples. 

“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone. 

you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged. 

he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies. 

he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle. 

it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak. 

“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife. 

if only you knew.

“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long. 

you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say. 

“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you. 

“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it. 

“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features. 

and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show. 

“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk). 

he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.

“just tell them the truth.” 

the truth. 

tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up. 

tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were. 

tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms. 

tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms. 

tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position. 

you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.

“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.” 

you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.

the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind. 

you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy. 

“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him. 

you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position. 

but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.

“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door. 

“i don’t-”

“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway. 

you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself. 

---

the feast of clans came earlier than you expected. 

you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered. 

you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury. 

“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.

“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.” 

he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside. 

“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating. 

you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen. 

“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate. 

“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such? 

“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”

gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you. 

“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement. 

“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”

the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away. 

you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking. 

“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless. 

gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite. 

“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic. 

“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”

“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.” 

you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind. 

a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.

“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”

“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly. 

“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this. 

“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”

your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.

“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it. 

“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you. 

you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around. 

“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile. 

“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response. 

“if you want to hide, i’ll-”

“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!” 

a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.

“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.” 

you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families. 

“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch. 

“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other. 

“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh. 

“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you. 

his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature. 

“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded. 

you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance. 

you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl. 

she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions. 

she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls. 

you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat. 

you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you. 

you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.

---

gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him. 

“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress. 

“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down. 

you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead. 

so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other. 

once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo. 

you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased. 

though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation. 

“what you saw last night-”

“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.” 

“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either. 

“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables. 

“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words. 

“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.” 

you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it. 

you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck. 

leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you. 

you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so. 

it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him. 

“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door. 

your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else. 

“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door. 

you didn’t answer, still, waiting. 

“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door. 

“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit. 

you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table. 

“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.

a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing. 

---

gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day. 

it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy. 

you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time. 

when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned. 

“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down. 

“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks. 

“you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet. 

“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you. 

your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis. 

you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.

sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders. 

myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing. 

until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window. 

“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.

his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw. 

he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance. 

“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her. 

the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had. 

“are you alright?” 

you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being. 

he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either. 

“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly. 

“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you. 

“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.” 

“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you. 

“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.” 

“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable. 

“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”

you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three. 

“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure. 

“you are my wife-”

“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. 

gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back. 

“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man. 

“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.  

he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint. 

he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks. 

“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.” 

you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self. 

“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you. 

“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint. 

he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw. 

“what do you mean?” 

you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin. 

“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”

“letters? what letters?” 

you glance at him, taking in his shaking form. 

“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”

his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing. 

“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.” 

the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement. 

“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks. 

“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.” 

you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words. 

“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you. 

“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations. 

“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face,  twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-” 

“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull. 

“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-” 

“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.” 

you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones. 

“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago. 

“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.” 

a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it. 

“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face. 

“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself. 

“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.” 

he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters. 

you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided. 

it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours. 

it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined. 

“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love. 

“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness. 

he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you. 

“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder. 

“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again. 

“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin. 

“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name. 

“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could. 

“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them. 

“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did. 

“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one. 

“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours. 

“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago. 

“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it. 

“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.

“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”

“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips. 

you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move. 

his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give. 

your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch. 

“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds. 

“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin. 

“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face. 

his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.

“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him. 

“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down. 

he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this. 

but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you. 

you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.

he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.

he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping. 

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most. 

“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.” 

he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye. 

his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck. 

it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be. 

his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall. 

“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response. 

“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more. 

his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more. 

he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit. 

“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision. 

you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo. 

“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.

“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt. 

you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over. 

when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces. 

he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest. 

“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?” 

he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you. 

“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.” 

you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you. 

“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that. 

“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.

“and then?” 

your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face. 

“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs. 

“and then?” 

“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.” 

“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking. 

“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain. 

“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves. 

“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.