#i wrote this at 2 in the morning before i actually like knocked out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miley1442111 · 2 months

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the problem with arguing

a/n: Hi, this is my first story, any constructive criticism is welcomed. This had not been properly edited nor read through because icba lmao :) also I wrote it for a fem!reader but I don't think there's much mention other than Jack calling reader 'mom' so... yeah :)

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader, platonic BAUteam x reader, motherly(If that's a word?)reader x teen!jack hotchner

summary: aaron and you are in a fight, but what happens when a meeting with a witness goes south?

warnings: criminal minds levels of violence, angst, fluff, couple fighting, reader in distress, reader getting injured, mentions of knives, mentions of being stabbed, mentions of being tied up, mentions of hospitals, mentions of killing, mentions of general injury, mentions of guns/shooting, minimal use of y/n.

1.6k + words.

“We’re here, we’ll update you if anything comes of it,” Morgan promises Hotch over the phone as we walk to the front porch of one of our witnesses. Something about his story is messed up and we were the unlucky ones who had to go talk to him. It’s a pretty house I guess, a little expensive for what a 26 year old man could afford, and what he would want to buy. It’s all fifties style, the entire estate is. Big-enough bungalows with pastel walls and inviting doors with a small porch, just enough for the entry-way and a chair. I knock on the door, exhausted from the past 72 hours. Aaron and I got in a fight before we got to Ohio, it was unnecessary, but we fought all the same. He was mad at me for giving Jack advice that led to a fight between them. I just wanted to kiss and make up 3 days ago but he won’t budge. Maybe it’s because he knows I’m right and doesn’t want to confront it or maybe it’s because I took it too far and overstepped. Jack calls me ‘mom’, I live with him, and Jack came to me for support, he wanted guidance and I gave him it. He was mad at his dad because he missed meeting his girlfriend. His girlfriend, Ava, was a lovely girl, I had been the one there when Jack brought her over for dinner, I was the one trying to suss out if they actually liked each other, and I was the one Jack sat down with for 2 hours after and told everything about her to. All because Aaron was too busy with paperwork in his study. Jack was hurt, which is difficult to do because he’s such an understanding 16 year-old boy. It was also hard because I saw both sides. I’ll be the first to admit that what Aaron did was wrong, but our job is hard and demanding, especially his since he’s the leader of our team… But Jack just wanted 2 hours of his time, not even, just a dinner. A dinner to meet his girlfriend, and Aaron still couldn’t make it.

I knock again as I huff.

“Everything alright?” Morgan asks, the regular playful glint in his eye.

“Tired, mad, over this job. You?” I sigh.

“Sounds about right,” He chuckles. “How’s Jack doing?”

A smile spreads across my face. “He has a girlfriend,” Morgan’s face lights up in a smile.

“My man,” He smirks and I chuckle. “You two met her yet?”

My face drops again. “I have, Aaron… couldn’t make it to the dinner though. She’s lovely, perfect for Jack. It's so funny, it’s just opposites attract. Jack is so sporty and outspoken and she’s one of the quieter, more into her studies kind of person.”

The door swings open and we’re met with David, our witness.

“You two know what time it is?” He yawns.

“Oh trust us, we know,” Morgan sighs. “Can we ask you a few more questions?”

“It’s 10pm at night? Can’t this wait ‘till the morning?”

“It’ll only take a few minutes,” I reassure.

He looks between us for a moment, then sighs. “Quickly.”

We walk inside and are immediately hit with an awful smell. I know that smell. That’s when I see it, a body.

And that’s when it all goes black.

I wake up in a new room, tied to a chair. I don’t see Derrick anywhere. I don’t see David anywhere. I’m all alone in this grey room. I don’t see a door but I notice a camera, and a screen in front of me. I see Penelope on the screen, then a sign above it with “Don’t make noise” scribbled. I look to my left and see a plastic window, I see Morgan through it, tied up too. He sees me.

“Y/n? Y/n?! Where are you?” Penelope squeals. I shake my head and she picks up her phone and tries calling mine, it rings and I feel something go into my side. I scream out in pain as I see the blood start trickling out of me. Penelope drops her phone, then picks it up, dialling someone else’s number.

I get switched to a joint call with Penelope, and the rest of the team, excluding Aaron.

“Y/n?” Spencer asks and I nod, sobbing in pain. Spencer runs off-screen, leaving Jj and Emily to stare in horror at me.

Spencer comes back with Aaron and we make eye-contact through the screen, and he starts breaking. He’s shouting orders at the policemen in the precinct, he’s shouting orders at the team, and he’s trying not to cry. I know that. I also know I’m the only one who knows that. He hides it pretty well but not from me, not after all of our years together. His eyes squint, his eyebrows furrow more than usual, he starts biting at the skin around his nails.

“We’re coming to find you. We will find you,” he promises me. I nod slowly as the pain in my side becomes unbearable as the knife is pulled out.

“Is Morgan with you?” Emily asks and I nod as I bite my lip until it bleeds to stop myself from making too much noise.

“Is he in the room with you?” Spencer asks.

I shake my head no. After what feels like an eternity of yes or no questions, they think they’ve located us.I hear banging on the door and then it opens. Spencer is standing there with an entire Swat team behind him. I shake my head to tell them to not make noise but they talk anyway and another knife is put into my leg, I don’t have the strength to stay quiet this time and another finds its way into my arm. I pass out.

I wake up in a hospital bed, an IV in my arm, Aaron on one side and Jack on the other. Aaron’s asleep in a chair on my left, I grimace, knowing his back will hurt.

“Mom?!” Jack exclaims as he sees me open my eyes. “Mom!” His eyes fill with tears as he gets up and wraps his arms around me on the bed.

“Jack,” I sigh in relief.

“You’re okay! You’re awake!” He smiles brightly, happy that I’m alive.

Aaron wakes up from the commotion and rushes to my side. “Honey?” He takes my hand and squeezes. “You’re okay.”

I smile at both of them.

“I’ll go get the doctor,” Jack smiles and he rushes off to find a doctor.

“Honey I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have-” He starts but I cut him off.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” he sighs, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Don’t go all soft now Aaron,” I joke.

“You make me soft,” He smiles and presses a soft kiss to my cheek.

Jack comes back in with a doctor. She tells me that I lost a lot of blood and that I will be out of the field for a few months, with 2 weeks of mandatory bedrest, then 4 weeks of physical therapy.

The next day, the team come in to visit.

“Hey,” Spencer smiles, walking in first. I’ve always been close to Spencer, he’s always felt like a little brother to me.

“Hey,” I smile and wince when I hug him, but I know it’s worth it. The rest of the team filter in, smiles on their faces.“So what happened after I went out?”

“Well, they got me, no injuries apart from a concussion,” Morgan says.

“We got the guy-” Emily starts.

“Aaron got the guy,” Spencer interrupts. “He saw him and just shot him-”

“And then he beat the crap out of him,” Jj says. “It was pretty intense.”

I nod along as they tell me the story, and then we just talk about whatever until Aaron comes in and says visiting hours are over. Spencer leaves me a few more books to read and Jj brings Jack to Ava’s house for the night. Aaron walks in with my dinner on a tray.

“Hungry?” He smiles.

“You shot someone for me?” I ask as he places my tray down.

“Yes.”

I roll my eyes and smile at him. “Is he alive?”

“No.”

My face drops. “Oh.”

“It was the combined bleeding and head trauma that killed him.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I did.”

I look at my food. “I understand you wanted to protect me-”

“I did that because he doesn’t get to live after doing this to you. Honey, you and Jack are the most important people in my life and I would do anything if it meant that you were safe and sound. Do you want to know how it felt to have what could’ve been my last words to you be ‘stop bothering me’? I was an asshole to you over the Jack situation because I knew you were right. I knew it wasn’t fair to not go to dinner when I was in the house. I knew it was important and it just felt too real. It felt like he was growing up and I just couldn’t take it because I missed so much of his childhood! So I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry that I said everything I said and did what I did, but I am not sorry about hurting that fucking monster,” He takes a deep breath. “Now eat up, it’ll go cold.”

“I love you Aaron, it’s ok. It wasn’t your fault, being a parents is hard.”

His eyes fill with tears and he looks at me like an injured puppy.

“Come here,” I smile and move over, allowing room for him to sit with me. He climbs into bed beside me and wraps his arms around me, being careful of my wounds.

“I love you,” he whispers as I slowly eat my food.

“I love you too.”

490 notes · View notes

peakyltd · 9 months

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New Endings

Part 1 | Tommy x Reader

A/N: I wrote this for @dearshelby 's 2K celebration. (Sorry that it took me so long to finish this Lora!) It was supposed to be just a one shot but it became so long that I decided to split it in two parts. It was also supposed to be fluffy but I completely lost track of that. I used the prompt: What you need me to say's gonna hurt you.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of abuse (not inflicted by Tommy and not described in detail), swearing.

Words: 3.4k

MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

Papers were sprawled over the big desk, the fountain pen in his hand was resting inches above one of them. The crackling of the fire was the only sound filling his office. He needed to finish this but his thoughts didn’t let him, still busy with processing the events of today.

He had left a meeting in the Midland hotel when he immediately recognized her from afar in the lobby. He still felt his heart drop at the sight of her. The mesmerizing smile she gave one of the receptionists filled his heart with the warmth he had been missing for so long.

He still remembered the day he let her walk out of his life, taking his heart with her.

After deciding to approach her, a man walked up and took her hand. Jealousy had taken the place of warmth in just a second. The ring on her finger told him enough. She replaced him with someone else, just like he did with her.

When the couple turned around, her eyes met his own. He could've sworn he saw her eyes lit up for a moment until her expression turned into a shocked one. Her soft beautiful voice called out his name and a small, formal “Hi.” And “How are you.” were exchanged until she told him they had an important meeting and that they had to go.

She never introduced him to the man on her arm. Although he wasn't sure if he actually wanted to be introduced.

“Dad? I can’t sleep.” A small voice shook him out of his thoughts. His eyes focused on the paper in front of him again, realizing the ink from his fountain pen dripped down on it, turning the letters into a big stain. A sigh escaped his lips before looking up at the little boy standing in his office, holding a blanket and a plush horse to his chest. “And why’s that, Charlie?” He asked his son. He took his pocket watch, wondering what time it was.

“Can I stay with you?” Charlie asked as he made his way over to his dad’s desk. “It’s 2 am, you can’t stay here.” Tommy remarked.

“I can sleep on your sofa.” The boy mentioned as he climbed on it. “Charlie, you should be sleeping. In your own room.” Tommy sighed as he got up.

“You should be sleeping too, you’re always here.” He argued as he laid down on the sofa. Tommy moved over to him, covering him with the blanket. “Why aren’t you sleeping, dad?” Charlie tried again.

“Because sometimes people have a bit trouble sleeping.” He explained as he sat down next to him. “Just like me?” Charlie’s question made his lips turn into a small smile. “Yes Charlie, just like you.”

“What’s letting you sleep better, daddy?” Charlie looked curiously at him as he hugged his horse.

Opium, booze, her.

“Thinking about the horses.” He answered as he stroked the boys hair. “I always dream about them.” Charlie smiled at him. “Do you too?”

“Yes, I do too.”

A knock on his office door got his attention. "Yes." The door opened, revealing Arthur and John. "Good morning Tom." The oldest brother greeted him as he sat down in the chair in front of his desk. John closed the door and started to pour himself a whiskey. "Indeed a good morning." He stated as he raised his glass before making his way to his brothers.

"You look tired." Arthur noticed the dark circles under Tommy's eyes. "He always does." John replied as he leaned against the desk, earning a glare from him.

"I'll keep it short. I got the deal, now I want you to keep an eye on the shipment.” He pointed at Arthur before moving his attention to John, a stern look in his eyes. “And I want you to deliver that package at the right address, today. Is it ready yet?”

“Of course it is. I worked really hard on it.” John smirked before taking a sip of his whiskey. “Good.” Tommy leaned back in his chair. “That’s it.” He sighed as he clasped his hands together.

Arthur’s eyes lingered a bit longer on Tommy as he stood up. It was worrying him to see him turn into ghost of himself more and more everyday. "Try to relax, yeah?" Arthur mumbled, knowing very well his words would fall on deaf ears. Tommy's straight face and the silence that followed confirmed it all.

“Oh, Tom. You never guess who I bumped into this morning.” John broke the silence as he stood up straight. “Well?” Tommy's toneless voice filled the room as he shifted his attention to the letters in front him.

“(Y/N), I accidentally bumped into her.” He answered as he finished his drink, placing the now empty glass on his brothers' desk. Tommy looked up at him, alerted by the mention of her name. “It was nice to see her again. Still stunning as ever.” John added, a small grin growing on the corner of his lips.

“Where did you see her?” Tommy asked him as John barely finished his sentence. "She left Greenwoods, told me she had breakfast there." John replied, narrowing his eyes as he looked at Tommy. "Was she alone?"

"Her fiancé joined her later." John responded. "Before you ask, I don't know who it is but I wonder if he really makes her happy. Our conversation changed in a weird way when he joined and she left pretty quickly after." He put a new toothpick in his mouth. "Why?"

“What else did she say?” Tommy asked. "I asked you something first." John simply stated, chewing on his toothpick. "John, what else did she say to you." Tommy snapped at him, irritated by the fact that he didn't get an answer right away.

John clenched his jaw as he glared at his older brother. "For fucks sake, I-"

"John, just tell him, eh?" He was cut off by Arthur who had put a hand on his shoulder. "Just tell 'im." He mumbled again, hoping to calm the tension between the temperamental brothers.

John sighed as he felt Tommy's eyes almost burn into his skin. "She's here for business. Told me she was doing well and just had a quick chat. That's it." He recalled the conversation. "Fucking business, eh? For how long is she staying?" Tommy questioned.

"Do I look like a fucking calendar to you?" John sneered as he felt himself getting angry by his brothers' interrogation. Tommy opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by John. "I have to go. I have to deliver a package."

"John." Tommy warned. "Fuck off Tom." He strided out of the office, slamming the door behind him and leaving Tommy and Arthur alone. "Maybe you should try to speak to her." Arthur carefully suggested.

Silence followed as Tommy glanced at him. "Go to the yard and talk to Charlie about the shipment that is coming our way."

A sigh fell off Arthur's lips as he shook his head slightly. "Yes Tommy." His voice a soft murmur as he turned around to leave the office. Tommy leaned back into his chair, his eyes staring at the door and his mind running.

"What's wrong with you now?" Tommy turned around to the direction the voice came from as he adjusted his coat. Ready to leave the office as his eyes met Polly's. Her body leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed.

"Not much more than yesterday." He stated as he put on his cap. "That's why John left your office like that this afternoon?" She wondered, not quite forgotten the contrast between his entrance and exit of the building.

"You know how he can be." Tommy replied, making his way to the door. "Yes, I do know how he can be when you press the wrong buttons. Just like I know how Arthur can be and how you can be. Now tell me what's going on." Polly blocked the door, looking up at Tommy.

"Pol, please." Tommy looked at her, an unfazed expression marking his features. She simply raised her eyebrow, her eyes never leaving his.

Tommy sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “I have to go.” His eyes held her gaze. Polly didn't move. He laid his hand on her shoulder and gently guided her out of his way. "Tommy, be honest to yourself for once." She retorded as she tried to stop him.

"I am, Pol. I am." Tommy mumbled, more to himself than to his aunt. Before Polly had the chance to stop him, he had already left the office. On his way to be honest to someone other than himself.

He stopped his car in front of a cottage on the countryside while looking for any sign of life. It seemed quiet and he hoped he didn't make the long drive for nothing. He excited the car and walked up to the front door, the sound of his knuckles hitting the wooden door disturbed the peaceful whistling of the birds.

Tommy waited but there was no one answering the door, he knocked again while glancing inside trough the closest window but it seemed like there was nobody at home.

As he contemplated on what to do next, the door opened. He looked up and was met with the person he was desperate to see. "Tommy? What are you doing here?" (Y/N) asked him while the color drained from her face, startled by his sudden presence.

"I want to talk." He admitted while he took in her appearance. His heart dropped in the same way when he had seen her in the hotel. She barely changed in those years although there was something different about her.

"How did you even know that I'm staying here?" She questioned him as she looked around to see if they were alone. Before Tommy could speak up she cut him off. "You know what, I don't even want to know. You can't be here." She blurted out, her eyes darting from him to the road.

Tommy noticed her strange behavior, it gave him a weird feeling. "It won't be long." He assured her as he stepped a bit closer to the door. "No, Tommy." She gasped slightly as she looked up at him. "Please, go."

"I'll go if you tell me that we can meet somewhere. Tonight." He countered although he didn't wait until tonight. Her gaze left his and found distraction on the floor. She bit softly on the inside of her cheek as she thought. A sigh escaped her lips. "Fine."

"Where?" She mumbled softly. "Midland hotel, 9 pm." Tommy offered but saw (Y/N) shaking her head. "No, not the hotel." She looked up at him. "The Garrison."

"The Garrison, 9 pm then." He confirmed as he watched her taking in her surroundings once again. Her gaze fell on him once more. "I'll promise I'll be there tonight." She assured before closing the door on him. Tommy swallowed harshly before returning back to his car.

As he leaned against the bar, Tommy's attention switched between the guests and the door, a whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. It was 9.30 by now and she still hadn't arrived. Maybe she didn't dare to tell him that she didn't want to come and was this just a trick to get rid of him. Maybe it was stupid to still trust her after all this time.

A lot of maybe's and what if's had been going trough his mind for years now, all without any kind of answer.

The door opened again and revealed the gorgeous woman he was waiting for. Her eyes scanned the place as she wrapped the fur coat tightly around her body. "(Y/N)." Tommy walked up to her. "Tommy." She gave him a small, shy smile as she looked him up and down.

"This way." He let his hand rest slightly on her back and lead her into the snug. He put his drink on the table and turned back to her. "Would you like something to drink?" He asked her while she took off her coat. "Gin with tonic water, please."

As Tommy got her the drink she looked around. The bar looked different from the last time she was here. Thinking back of the many memories that were made inside the building, made her feel at home.

Tommy's voice shook her out of her thoughts. "Like the decorations?" He asked as he closed the door, making his way to the table and put her drink on the table as well. "I- Yes. It's different. More gold." She replied, turning her attention back to the man in front of her.

"You're allowed to say that you don't like it." He assured as he watched her cheeks turn into a light shade of red. "I do like it."

"Just saying." He pointed at the the seats. "Please, sit down." He told her as he sat down across from her, taking a sip of his whiskey. Silence fell over them until their eyes met. "How have you been doing?" Tommy was the first one to break the silence with his question.

"I'm doing fine." She kept her reply short. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well." He answered. She didn't quite believe it, he looked different from what she had remembered. Something she thought she had already noticed it at the hotel but wasn't too sure of.

"John said you're here for business." He said while lighting another cigarette. She narrowed her eyes and her jaw tightened. "The Blinders are still keeping an eye on me here?" She scolded in annoyance. "Did they ever stop?"

Tommy sighed, blowing out some smoke. "You know it was for your own safety." (Y/N) sat up straight. "Was it really? Or was it because you wanted to control everything single thing?"

She remembered that it got worse with the day. At some point there was always someone with or around her to watch her, or taking care of as Tommy would like to call it. She knew that he meant well and he wanted to protect her but it was suffocating.

He took a sip of his whiskey. "You know the answer to that question." She shook her head as she looked away. "Listen, I'm only here for a few days, after that I'll leave."

"Is it for your fiancée's business?" He asked, moving the conversation back to his inital goal while taking another drag of his cigarette. Her eyes snapped back to his, a glare replaced her kind looking eyes. "Tommy, please. Is this why I'm here? To talk about business or rather about my fiancé?"

"We can discuss business later." He remained motionless. "I need to go." She said as she stood up, making her way to the coat rack. "John wondered if he really makes you happy."

She froze as she heard his words. "Does he?" Tommy questioned. She turned around to look at him. "John this, John that. Why aren't you talking to him instead?" She scoffed, her breath quickening.

"Does he?" Tommy asked again. She looked at him, her arms crossing as her fingers played with the fabric of her dress, not being able to answer his question.

He held her gaze a little longer before breaking it. "I guess I have my answer." He stated as he stomped out his cigarette in the ash tray. She took a deep breath, feeling a kind of sadness washing over her. "Why did you even want to talk to me?" Her voice was smaller than before.

"Because I knew I had to when I saw you again. That ring on your finger was supposed to be mine." Tommy explained.

"Supposed to be yours? I can't believe you!" She shook her head before meeting his eyes again. "You're the one who told me I was better off without you because your life was too dangerous. You know I didn't want to break up because of that but you insisted." Tears welled up into her eyes.

"Listen (Y/N) I-" He was cut off by her raised voice. "No let me finish."

"You were the one who just vanished after everything we've been trough. On top of that I found out you were together with someone else not even months later." She took a deep breath to try and remain calm. "And now you're saying that ring was supposed to be yours?!" Her voice betrayed her anger.

"I made a mistake by breaking up with you." Tommy admitted as he stood up. She let out a snort. "Only for breaking up with me?! I heard you were married and had a child!"

"That was years after you, not months. You know I tried to find you but you didn't want to be found, you wrote it meself." He defended as he slowly closed the gap between them. "I have the letter still."

"Don't you understand that you've hurt me?! I wanted to hate you but I knew the moment I would see you again I would forget all about that because I loved you. Something you failed to show many times." She yelled at him, finally able to put the anger and pain into words.

"Don't fucking tell me that I never showed you how much I loved you." Tommy's voice raised, it startled her but she quickly gathered herself together again. "I made that decision because I wanted to protect you!"

"Oh, please!" She scoffed, her body felt tense and her chest moved rapidly from the heavy breathing. "If you loved me you'd fucking fight for me!"

"I always did, (Y/N)! Always!" He yelled back at her as he watched her shake her head again. "Oh fuck off! There's no point into this conversation. You should go back to your fucking wife!"

"My fucking wife is dead." His harsh words hit her harder than she expected, no words were able to leave her mouth as her eyes softened.

"I didn't know." She breathed out. "I'm sorry."

"I tried to protect her like I tried to protect you but I failed. A fate I wanted to spare you." He explained on a calmer tone.

Tommy's gaze softened, his hand touched her cheek carefully. She flinched slightly at his action. "I am sorry." His voice was almost a whisper. Her eyes stared into his, they seemed so close to something safe and familiar but at the same time it was all so far away from that.

He moved his face closer to hers until their lips met. They both melted slowly into the soft feeling of having each other so close. His other hand found it's way to her waist as her hands rested on his chest.

Tommy gently deepened the kiss as he pulled her closer. (Y/N) melted right into him until realization struck her. If her fiancé would find out where she was or what she was doing right now, he would be furious.

She pushed Tommy away, the sound of the harsh contact from her hand on his cheek echoed trough the space. A gasp escaped her mouth, afraid of what his reaction would be.

The stinging feeling of his cheek made Tommy instantly snap out of the moment. He looked at her as he clenched his jaw, confused by what just happened.

"I"m so sorry. I- I didn't want to... I'm engaged Tommy." She stammered while reaching for her coat. "David will kill me if he finds out that I was with you."

"(Y/N)..." Tommy started as he watched her put on her coat. "Does he hurt you?"

She gulped, avoiding his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I saw how you flinched (Y/N) and don't even get me started on the anxious behavior when I stood in front of your home." This was the last thing she wanted to talk about. "It's not our home. We only use it for holidays." She tried to change the subject as she walked to the door.

"(Y/N)." Tommy called out her name. "What?" She snapped as she turned back to face Tommy. "I care about you."

Her eyes lingered a bit longer on him. "I'm sorry Tommy. What you need me to say's gonna hurt you." She decided to walk out of the door, leaving him on his own.

To be continued

PART 2

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders fanfic

503 notes · View notes

cottonlemonade · 21 days

Text

Plan B [part 2]

word count: 1490 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.

pairing: post-time skip Kuroo x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

part 1 for context

____________________________________________

Of course your staff had immediately informed you about the display from the day before when you came in the following morning. The barista even showed you a few snapshots he had taken with his phone and as much as you hated to admit it, you would have loved to have been there to see it in person. Pictures didn’t really do him justice, you thought. “Should I send those to you, manager?”, the barista asked with a knowing smirk. When you didn’t say anything but just stoically walked past him into the kitchen, you were glad when your phone buzzed a few seconds later and a small flood of pictures appeared in your chat. You cleared your throat and got to work.

Despite his regular appearances the last couple of weeks, the guy didn’t show up again the next day. Or even the day after that.

“Maybe he actually finally gave up?”, the waitress suggested with a shrug. She was counting the receipts while the barista helped you clean the espresso maker.

“I hope not. What else are we gonna do for entertainment around here?”

“How about your job.”, you suggested.

The barista let out a theatrical groan, which earned him a dish towel to the face.

At this point, a week had passed since the last time you saw the guy and although you found your thoughts wandering to his handsome smile every so often, you decided it was most likely for the better.

It was late in the evening and the café was closed for the day. The sky was gray and obviously brewing up something unpleasant so you wanted to make sure to send your team home as quickly as possible.

Soon enough, after hugs and waves goodbye, you locked the glass door from the inside and went to the kitchen to prep food for the next day.

You had just started to mash up a bowl of overripe bananas when a soft knocking made you look up and glance through the serving hatch.

The wind outside brushed past the shops with a low whistle and you could make out a very familiar shape in the dim light of the streetlamps.

More excited than you’d like to admit you made your way to the door.

“Sorry, I’m late.”, the guy’s voice was muffled through the glass.

You pointed to the Closed sign with a raised eyebrow. He put his hands together in a silent plea.

With a very big eye roll you grabbed the keys from your apron pocket and opened the door a handwidth.

“Hi.”

“Hey there.”

“I need a cake.”

“Goodbye.”, you closed the door again.

“Please!”, he called.

You shook your head and gestured to your ear to signal you couldn’t hear him.

He thought for a moment, then took out his phone and began to type something. A few seconds later he held the screen up against the glass.

Forgot to get cake for friend’s birthday.

You pulled a notepad from your belt and wrote “unfortunate” in response.

Low rumbling of thunder made you both look to the horizon. A few moments passed in which he threw you puppy dog eyes. You sighed loudly and unlocked the door again.

Not a minute too soon. With the click of the lock the first heavy raindrop hit the windowfront.

“Thank you.”, he said with a grateful smile.

“Don’t mention it. But you will have to live with what’s left of the day. The ones for tomorrow still need to be decorated.”

He followed you to the counter, having the decency to look apologetic as you waved him to come along further to check out the cakes in the fridge.

He chose a white chocolate cake with strawberries and you carried it back to the front to pack it up.

“How has your last week been?”, he asked as you worked.

“Uhm, I made my best cinnamon rolls yet and finally found my TV remote. So pretty good, I’d say. How about you?”

“Not as good as yours apparently. Pretty busy. I had to do some traveling and give a bunch of presentations. Sorry I couldn’t come by to bring up that counter you keep on the blackboard.”

You closed your eyes and made an indefinable noise. You'd have to talk to your staff about the concept of discretion.

“Technically, that means I owe you at least one.”

“Oh, please don’t.”

He swaggered closer and, leaning on the counter, considered you for a moment.

You held his gaze, expecting the worst.

“Wait, I… actually forgot what I wanted to say."

You tried not to smile but were betrayed by your pursed lips.

"Gotta be honest, of all your flirting so far that has been the best one."

He gave you a half smile.

"How about you don't see it as flirting. See it as me just being extra friendly to someone extra beautiful."

You scoffed but couldn’t stop a short sort of giggle escaping your lips.

After a moment’s pause he added, now with genuine sweetness, "Go out with me. Just once. I promise it'll be fun. And really, what's the worst that can happen?"

"Where do I even start?"

"Okay. But besides that, the worst that can happen is that we realize we don't have anything in common."

You looked at him, your head slightly tilted in thought.

"Like, what are you doing tonight after work?", he suggested.

"Well, I’m meeting some friends."

"What will you be doing?”

“A museum has a science night we wanna check out.”

“Oh! Really?”, he asked excitedly, dropping his flirtatious manner completely. And sure enough this little piece of information carried you through the subject of scientific fun facts to books to hobbies and so on. The rain had lessened significantly but an hour later he was still there, sitting on a chair at the kitchen island, talking while you worked, peppering in little compliments here and there but keeping it mostly pleasantly fluffy.

When you eventually parted in front of the café, Kuroo hesitated, obviously thinking about how to say Goodbye. In the end you both settled for slightly awkward smiles and went your separate ways.

He had an extra spring in his step as he arrived at the restaurant, incredibly late but incredibly happy. His friend accepted the cake with a tipsy, somewhat off-key belt of “Happy birthday to me!” and pointed to a free seat next to Kenma.

"Someone's looking chipper.", his former setter commented and accepted a slice of birthday cake, “Why did you leave me here alone?”

“You’re hardly alone, Kenma-kun.”, the older one said vaguely, "I had to pick up the cake first. I only remembered when I was already at work."

"So… is it from that little café?"

Kuroo shrugged, but was unable to hide a grin.

His friend lifted a brow. Originally, Kuroo hadn’t meant to talk about it. About how he didn't expect you two to actually have so much in common, about how funny you were, how smart and how gorgeous you looked even after a long day at work. How you practically made him beg to get into the café at all and how easy it was to talk to you once the ice was broken. It took him a few minutes to finally stop gushing.

"Sounds like a very promising night.", Kenma said approvingly, hoping he’d finally be free of his friend’s whining about why you wouldn’t go out with him, "So you got her number, then."

Kuroo's dreamy expression fell at once. "Oh.”

The sun glistened on the streets still soaked from last night’s rain but the air smelled fresh and you hummed to yourself when you thought about the previous evening. As you unlocked the cafe’s front door you heard someone calling your name and turned around.

Your stomach dropped when you spotted Kuroo on the other side of the road, waiting to cross safely.

“Good morning.”, he said, a little out of breath but with a winning smile.

“Good morning. What brings you by so early?”

“I have a full day today so I wouldn’t be able to come by otherwise.”

You tried hard not to look too pleased.

“I was wondering, if - I mean, I forgot to - Could I have your number?”

Pretending to think about it, you opened the door.

“Do you want that on a to-go cup?”

“That would be easier to brag with.”, he said, nodding thoughtfully and stepping in behind you.

While you prepared his usual, Kuroo watched you closely and you weren’t sure if the pink in his cheeks was from his jog here or something else.

When you handed him his tea a few minutes later he stood there, looking you up and down with his cheeky grin.

You squinted in suspicion.

“You look even cuter than usual today.”

“Get out before I charge you double.”

He lifted the cup and winked. “Talk to you later.”

____________________________________________

#kuroo x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsurou x chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #chubby reader #haikyuu x reader #hq kuroo #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x you

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citadelsanchez · 2 years

Note

hahah what if Rick gets drunk and reader if taking care of them and he just slips that he likes them? and compliments them and just kinda goes off?(then denies anything happened the next day when they ask?) I just think about that a lot tbh sdkj

You got it! Wrote this at 3 am and couldn't think of a better bit than the hair thing, go easy on me asfjkxc. Also did it in y/n fashion again. Hope you like it!

~~~~~~~~~

"Alright Rick, I may be alone in this opinion, but the way you're staggering and drooling on the floor tells me you need that bottle confiscated" you sigh, miserably attempting to snatch the alcohol from Rick's fingers.

"Hey s-s-sh-ut the fuck up Y/N, y-y-y-you're being ridiculous. I'm a-alwaaays drunk" Rick retorted, successfully pulling away the bottle away. He laughs before teetering again, placing his hands on your shoulders to balance himself.

You look up at him with a slightly annoyed expression. "Rick, I've been trying to get you to bed for 2 hours. Please just stop being stubborn and follow me."

He pokes your shoulders playfully now, "Oooooh, really? Into bed for w-what cause I think I'm down."

"Into bed for my sanity, please."

He scoffed in response, beginning to walk off into the Smiths' living room but knocked over the table near the wall instead.

"Rick, Jesus Christ," you tug on his arm and he bends down slightly, clearly fighting sleep to the best of his ability. He puts a hand in your hair and starts twirling it in his fingers slowly.

"How do youuu get it s-so bouncy?"

You're confused for a second and then stifle a laugh, as you've never seen Rick this vulnerable and... affectionate? before.

"I- uh, it's just volumizer" you respond.

He looks at you still in a dazed wondrous state. "It's pretty. And I-I don't like that wo-ORRD but you know, I guess I co-could tell you that now. I always n-notice it firSSTT when I see you," he burps out.

You feel a slight warmth in the pit of your stomach. Rick has always been playfully flirty with you here and there, but has never expressed any kind of genuine sentiment like this before.

"Thanks Rick, that's.. that's sweet of you."

"I-I-I mean like I actually think you're cu-cute like a little baby, i-it's weird," he goes on.

"Okay, tell me more, but let's go in here okay?" You gently place your arm under his and steer him towards his bedroom. He rolls his head to the side and gives a small "okay" in response.

You manage to drag him into his room and take his lab coat and pants off and get him onto the bed. "Ugh, see wh-what I mean, it's sick..ening" Rick slurs out, staring up at you.

"What?" You ask, sitting on the bed beside him.

"H-how fucking caring you are. G-god I just want to be around you aalllllll the time. I always hope it'll-it'll rub off on me b-but I don't think anyone could be as go-good natured as you."

Your cheeks burn red as you study his face, his head still bobbing while blinking at you slowly.

"A-and I know that I'll deny this sh-shit later but Y/N you're a saint. B-beautiful and delicate. And I've s-seen a lot o-o-of fine specimens b-but I think you're the truuee definition of a goddess."

Your mouth hangs agape a little as you realize that he's serious. He's not just spouting some speech, he's telling the truth. The unfiltered truth. Only drunk Rick does that, and you've only seen it twice before.

"Um, well- thank you Rick, you're uh, not so bad yourself. I've always-"

"Hey, shh, this was my confession t-time, not yours. J-just lay with me, pleaaseee.." you can see his eyes start to flutter shut as he holds an arm out to invite you into an embrace.

You lay your head on his chest and he wraps his arm tightly around your body before you both drift into a deep sleep.

----

In the morning, you awake to an empty bed and glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It reads 11:54 am. You're beginning to recall last night's events as Rick walks in, fully dressed. He clears his throat.

"So you wanna tell me why uh, you're in my bed?"

You snicker at this. "Oh, Rick, you suddenly don't remember?"

"Remember what? If we screwed, th-then clearly not. Must not have been that impressed sweetie."

"Nope, we didn't. Buuuut, you did basically praise me all night" you smirk.

"Not a chance," Rick laughs and crosses his arms sternly.

"You did though. And I know that for the smartest man in the universe, your memory isn't that bad. Even in a hangover," you tease now, desperate for him to admit to his vulnerability.

He sits on the bed beside you and leans to get in your face. "Are you that desperate for my attention that you're making things up?"

"Hmm, I guess so. Anyway, I've got to go get dressed and volumize my hair, we'll talk later," you smile as you get up to leave.

Before you go, you catch a small look of shock on his face and a quiet "shit" escape his mouth.

#rick sanchez #rick sanchez x reader #rick and morty #rick sanchez x oc #rick and morty season 6

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kaiapaia · 8 months

Text

the choice of hercules

Pairing: Mainly Gojo/Reader, hints of Geto/Reader

WC: 6,361 (I have no explanation for myself)

Content Warnings: This does contain NSFT smut. There are no pronouns for the reader, but they are described to have breasts and a vagina during the smut. The reader is also hinted at losing their virginity during the smut. There are also themes of yandere behavior from both Geto and Gojo, but it gets pretty overt towards the end.

This is a part 2 of my piece The Fall of Icarus, that I wrote for @strawberrystepmom 's It Takes a Galaxy collab. You can find part 1 here. I do recommend reading it, as there will be lore and references in this that won't make sense if you haven't read part 1.

Speaking of lore, I really do play fast and loose with the canon for both Star Wars and JJK in this one, so I would not recommend reading this if you're looking for accuracy from either series.

Once again, thank you to the marvellous Miss Kendall for hosting such a fun collab, and encouraging me to take this from an outline to an actual finished piece. It really is an honor to participate in a collab with and hosted by such amazing and talented authors.

Minors and ageless blogs, DNI. If you don’t have an age in your bio or pinned I will block you.

In the darkest hours of the night, during the increasingly frequent evenings when sleep eludes you, you find yourself silently wishing that you had the strength to walk away. You can picture it; the weight of your saber leaving your hand as you surrender it to the masters, and the weight that would leave your shoulders as you walk away from the Temple for the last time.

Those thoughts fade like frost in the warmth of the morning light. You take your time getting dressed, making sure that every layer sits perfectly. When you look in the mirror, you wonder who you would be without the armor of your robes and the title of Knight. You are willing to concede that the Order is not perfect, but for all its flaws it is your home and the only family you have ever known. The thought is a comfort in the wake of the despair of the night, and you know in your heart that no matter how deep the despair gets you will not walk away.

Perhaps this is the attachment you have been warned about since you were a small child- the feeling of craving a home and the security that comes with it that you would do anything to keep it. You wonder if it makes you loyal, or just greedy. You reflexively reach for your comlink, preoccupied with the question you want to ask Geto.

Then you remember Geto left, and you let your arm fall limply to your side.

You reach up to the phantom space where your pendant used to rest, the memories of your last meeting with Geto playing in your mind. Part of you wonders what would have happened, if you had taken the offer he had laid so temptingly before you.

The details of Geto’s fall have become a closely guarded secret. Those files have a high enough security clearance that even you can’t access them. Gojo, who will normally tell you anything, just smiled when you asked and ruffled your hair, telling you not to worry your pretty little head. All you were told is that Geto was responsible for the death of an entire village, and you only have the confusing images left by your Force premonition to go on.

You know something happened. Your premonition confirmed that much, and was further strengthened by the state Geto had been in when you saw him in that alley. The dark side leaves a mark on those who come into contact with it. You are still haunted by the sight of his eyes, glowing gold in the dark shadows of the alley.

The only information that you’ve been able to glean in the months since is that Geto has been sighted with two young girls, and you’ve heard rumors that he’s started some sort of cult somewhere in the Outer Rim. For a moment you entertain the thought of getting in your ship and setting out to find him, but you are pulled from your thoughts by the sound of a knock at the door. You glance at the clock on your desk and realize that you’ve missed breakfast; someone must have come looking for you. You know it’s not Gojo, he would have just let himself in. You take a moment to recenter yourself, soothing your roiling emotions with the Force, then go to open the door.

A young man with dark hair and white robes stands on the other side. You recognize him as Gojo’s new Padawan, and a new recruit to the Jedi. He had been discovered only a few months ago, and the overwhelming strength of his power made him dangerous to leave alone. Gojo had volunteered to take the young man under his wing and train him, much to the chagrin of the Council, but that was to be expected from Gojo.

Yuuta pulls his hand back from where he had been about to knock again. “Ah, good morning! You weren’t at breakfast, so Master Gojo wanted to check on you- he would have come himself, but he was summoned to the Council, so he sent me instead,” he says, smiling and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Good morning to you too, Yuuta. I’m sorry you had to come all this way. I merely lost track of time thinking about a case,” You pat him gently on the shoulder and move to step past him into the hallway. “Since I lost track of time, I’m afraid I’m late for my duties. Excuse me.”

Before you can move past him, he grabs your wrist to stop you. “Master Gojo told me you’d say that. He also gave me specific instructions to make sure you went to the kitchens first and got something to eat before you go to the archives.”

“Ah, that does sound like him,” you smile ruefully and gently pull your wrist out of Yuuta’s hold. “Well Yuuta, would you like to accompany me? I’ve been meaning to talk to you about our upcoming trip, and this is as good a time as any. I’m sure you must have questions.”

He brightens and falls into step alongside you. “I do have some that I’ve been hoping to ask before we leave. What is Dantooine like?”

“The planet is mostly grasslands, so the view from the enclave there is like looking out onto a moving sea of green. The window from my old room there faced the sunrise, so I used to wake up before dawn to watch the sun come up and turn the clouds pink and the grasses gold,” you smile wistfully. “You can also see the brith playing in the clouds, and if you’re quiet you can get close and watch the piket graze the tops of the trees.”

“Oh, one thing you should be wary of when we go,” you turn to Yuuta. “The kath hounds on Dantooine are dangerous, and easily provoked. If you run into one, do not underestimate it.”

He looks at you, puzzled. “I thought I was just going to study at the archives there?”

“You grew up in the underbelly here on Coruscant, didn’t you?” When he nods, looking confused, you explain. “It’s important for Jedi to explore many different types of environments, and Dantooine is about as different from Coruscant as you can get. The planet is peaceful, without the pollution and constant noise, but it can be just as dangerous. Part of your training while we’re there will be learning how to navigate an environment that is unfamiliar.”

When his pale face gets even paler, you reach out and reassure him, both physically and through the Force. “Don’t worry, Yuuta. You won’t be alone while you’re doing this. I’ll be there to help, every step of the way. Think of it as a part research trip, part camping trip.”

Some color returns to his cheeks, and you see him unclench one hand from the sleeve of his robe. “Ah, that’s good. Master Gojo likes to ‘let me figure things out for myself’, and I usually learn something, but I also usually end up seeing Master Shoko at the end of it.”

Yuuta’s comlink buzzes. “Oh stars, I’m late for sparring. Maki’s gonna kill me,” he mutters to himself, reading the message.

You shoo him off with a gesture. “Go, go. I’m sorry for keeping you. I’ll see you in a few days when we leave.”

“Thank you!” he gives you a quick bow and turns to run down the hallway.

“Good luck!” you call out after him. You watch him run for a moment, before turning back to your current mission of getting something to eat. The halls are quiet, with the comforting sounds of running water, murmuring voices from the classrooms, and the distant sounds of saber blades crashing providing a backdrop to your walk.

You are startled out of your reverie by a voice.

“It’s good to see you smiling again,” Gojo looms from the shadow of a nearby pillar, looking uncharacteristically serious.

“I smile all the time,” you cross your arms defensively, watching Gojo warily as he approaches. Slowly, he walks you backwards, until you hit the smooth stone of a pillar. He plants a big hand on the pillar next to your head, while the other comes up to cup your chin, one thumb tracing the curve of your bottom lip.

“Those aren’t real,” he says dismissively. “I missed seeing your smile actually reach your eyes. What were you and my darling apprentice talking about that made you so happy, hmm?”

You know he probably heard you, but you decide to indulge him in whatever game he seems interested in playing today. “He asked me about Dantooine. You know, the trip you asked me to take him on in a few days?”

“Do you miss it that much? That just talking about it makes you glow like this?” he swipes a thumb over the ridge of your cheekbone. His eyes are covered by his blindfold right now, but you can still feel them on you, following every movement of your face.

“It was my first home, Gojo. Of course I miss it,” you uncross your arms and make a conscious effort to relax. “My duties have kept me away for a long time, so it’ll be nice to go back, even if it is only for a few days.”

Reaching out with the Force, you try to get a read on Gojo. He’s closed off at first, but when you make contact he opens himself up to you, just a bit. You get a taste of an anxiety so potent it makes your stomach churn, and the pieces click into place for you.

The last time one of his friends had left on a mission, they didn’t come back.

Sighing, you reach up and thread your fingers through his silky white hair. You scratch gently at the nape of his neck, in the way that makes him practically purr when he seeks you out and throws himself down into your lap, demanding your attention after he gets back from a long mission.

“I know where my duty is, Gojo. It’s just a few days, and then I’ll be back.”

He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll come back.”

“I promise. I’ll make sure your Padawan comes back in one piece too,” you try a joke, attempting to lift the mood a little, but Gojo ignores it. He folds himself down even further, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his head into the crook of your neck. You feel more than hear him whisper something as he tightens his arms around you.

You let him stay like that, his tall body folded down to wrap around your smaller one. It’s only when you hear the approaching voices of other Jedi that you begin to untangle yourself from him, pulling your fingers from his hair and pushing at him gently to try and persuade him to let go. He tightens his grip in response, and you swat at the back of his head.

“Gojo! What if they see us?” you hiss at him, pushing more insistently.

“Would that be so bad?” he pulls back a little, just far enough to see your face.

��This is crossing a line and you know it. It would risk both of our positions if someone saw.”

He finally pulls away from you, and the small window he’d opened for you in the Force shuts abruptly. He steps back, putting an appropriate amount of distance between you two, and reaches out to ruffle your hair. “Take care of yourself, starlight,” he says as he walks away, giving you a cheerful two fingered salute as the other Jedi come into view.

You watch him leave for a moment, waiting until he turns a corner before you continue on your way to the kitchens. Your mind is racing, replaying the interaction in your head. It’s not out of the ordinary for Gojo to do this, but it is strange for him to be so clingy out where you could get caught. Normally he seeks you out either early in the morning or late at night, finding you in either your quarters or your small office in the archives, where he occupies as much of your personal space as he can and demands your attention for however much time he can hide away from his responsibilities.

Your mind keeps circling back to the words he whispered into the crook of your neck: “If you don’t come back, I swear I’ll find you.” He’d left the door to his emotions open, but you didn’t need to look to know he’d been talking about you, and also Geto. His regret for not being able to save his best friend in time haunted his steps as closely as his own shadow.

You could feel your own regret begin to creep closer, and you shook yourself physically and mentally. You’d spent enough time thinking about loss and regret today. You grabbed a quick meal from the kitchens and made it to your office, throwing yourself into your work.

That seemed to set the pattern for the week. Yuuta started seeking you out on his own, asking questions about the history of the Jedi enclave on Dantooine, and about the history of the Order in general. It seemed Gojo had taken a very hands on and practical approach to Yuuta’s training; his lightsaber forms and piloting skills had progressed far beyond anyone’s expectations. However, his education was a bit lacking, and you were happy to fill in the gaps and provide the young Padawan with anything he desired, whether it was information, guidance on Force techniques, or simply a quiet place to meditate.

Gojo also began seeking you out more often, pulling you into dark corners just to hold you for a moment in between his meetings and assignments. He laughed off your questions, simply saying that he just wanted to spend time with you before you left. Even though he was demanding your attention in riskier and riskier places, and you knew he was hiding something, you found yourself unable to say no to him. Physical contact was rare amongst the Jedi, touch limited to a friendly hand on the shoulder or a brief touch in passing.

There were moments that you found yourself craving the warmth of Gojo’s touch, the way the world narrowed to just the space of his arms. The more he touched you, the hungrier you felt- you knew you were walking a dangerous line but couldn’t find it in yourself to stop. You reasoned with yourself that it would just be for this week, you’d both get it out of your systems, and then things would go back to normal after you returned from Dantooine. So you let yourself indulge, ignoring the specter of Geto’s words from the last time you’d seen him.

The night before you are set to leave for Dantooine, you wake up in a cold sweat. Your thoughts are a garbled mess, caught halfway between the waking world and dreaming. All you know is that Gojo needs you, right now. You’re still close enough to sleep that the world feels fuzzy at the edges, but you manage to throw a robe over your sleep tunic and make your way out into the dark and empty halls of the Temple. There’s no moon tonight, meaning that the halls are lit only by dim sconces, leaving you to fumble your way in the dark. You can feel Gojo’s presence drawing you in, like the crushing gravity of a black hole.

You make it to his door, tapping out a code that you know so well it’s muscle memory. The door slides open and you practically fall into the room, looking frantically for Gojo. He’s in his bed, locked in the throes of a nightmare that has him convulsing in the thin sheets of his bed. The dim lights of the hallway shine on his sweat-slicked skin, making it gleam like alabaster before the door slides shut again, leaving you in blackness. You let the pull draw you to him, catching yourself on the edge of his bed. You almost fall forward, planting a knee on the edge of the mattress and resting your hands on Gojo’s chest.

“Gojo, wake up,” you call, voice hushed but urgent. When he doesn’t respond, you push harder, shaking him as gently as you can. You open the Force connection between you two, and are rapidly overwhelmed by a deluge of images and sounds. You push through it, using your ability to try and calm the storm that is raging in Gojo’s mind. You catch some flashes of his dream before he wakes, coming to consciousness with a jerk. His eyes snap open, glowing electric blue in the darkness as he activates his powers in a self defense reflex. Your eyes meet for a second, his wide and wild as he begins to register where he is.

He reaches a shaking hand up to you, trembling fingertips tracing the curve of your jaw, the line of your neck, and the delicate wings of your collarbone left exposed by the skewed collar of your sleep tunic. “You’re here,” he breathes, the panicked fight bleeding out of his body. You don’t respond, letting him calm down and also trying to sort through the fragmented flashes of his nightmare you’d seen before he’d woken up.

Your attention is immediately drawn back to him when he sits up, a flash of movement and a blur of motion before you feel your back hit his mattress. His fingers are entwined with yours, pinning one of your hands to the pillow above your head. You can feel his other hand slip beneath your robe, the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of your sleep tunic as he runs his hand up and down your side. He leans down, and his hot breath on the sensitive skin of your neck sends a shiver down your spine.

Gojo nuzzles your neck, tracing the line of it with the tip of his nose. He’s babbling something, but his voice is low enough that even in the quiet of his room you can’t quite hear what he’s saying. He seems to realize this when you stay silent, and he drags his head from the crook of your neck. “Please, let me have you, starlight. I need to feel that you’re alive,” he begs, eyes blown so wide that the luminous blue of his eyes is pushed to a thin ring around the cavernous black of his pupils. A thought echoes in the back of your mind; this is the first time you’ve seen Gojo without his blindfold since Geto fell.

Whatever had pulled you to his room has worn off, leaving you slightly dazed but aware of where you are. You cannot blame it for the feelings welling up under your skin, threatening to burst with each brush of Gojo’s skin. You know that the Code dictates that you should push him off, go back to your room, and meditate to drive this attachment away. You move to do so, and your leg brushes up against him. He makes a punched out sound, caught somewhere in between a filthy moan and a sob. You freeze, hands on his chest.

“Don’t go,” he pleads, voice thick with an emotion you are afraid to put a name to. “Please, starlight, I need you. Let me take care of you.” He drops his head to yours and reaches for one of your hands, pressing it further against his chest. You can feel his heart pounding, racing like the engines of the speeders he loves to fly so much. “Please, stay.”

There are two thoughts at war in your mind. One is the Code, a creed you have had memorized for so long recalling the words is as easy as breathing. You know what the Code dictates, what it demands from you. From both of you. You also know what it has taken from you.

The other is the fact that you are getting a second chance at something you’ve wanted more than anything- a chance to be close to someone you love. That thought stuns you for a second. Geto was your first love, a secret that you buried deep after he fell and swore to never dig up. You’ve been scared to face your feelings for Gojo because of that. You know what your feelings are, but have hidden from them out of fear, fear that they will lead you astray from your duty, from the oath that you swore when you became a Knight.

In the face of Gojo’s desperation, you feel ready to voice those feelings. The closed door and the darkness around you makes you feel bold, finally ready to face a truth you’ve been hiding from for months now. Mind made up, you lean up, closing the scant few inches between the two of you to press your mouth to Gojo’s. He makes a broken sound, his hand moving to cradle your head as he presses closer to devour your mouth. He wastes no time pulling you as close as possible, tongue plundering your mouth.

He sinks his teeth into your bottom lip before pulling away, resting his forehead against yours. He nestles himself between your thighs, hips making small, jerky movements against you, as if he can’t control himself. “It’s been unbearable, starlight,” he moans. “To have you so close and not be able to do anything. If only you knew how often my last thoughts at night are of you. I see signs of you everywhere, and each one makes me crave you in a way I can’t endure.”

Gojo trails kisses from your lips down to your jaw, nipping at the corner of it and tugging at your earlobe with his teeth. His mouth keeps travelling down, biting and sucking at your neck. A soft moan stutters its way out of your mouth, and he shivers against you. “That’s it, starlight. Let me know how good I make you feel,” you feel his breath, cool now against the sheen of saliva on your skin. You feel him bite down, hard enough to leave a mark, just below where the collar of your robes sits against your throat. “There we go,” he murmurs, kissing the mark. “A secret for just us.”

He retreats just far enough to give you space to shed your robe and sleep tunic. He touches every inch of exposed skin, hands and mouth on you like he cannot bear to be separated from you for more than a moment. He moans low in his throat when your breasts are revealed, pushing you back down into the mattress to bury his face in the soft mounds. You moan again as he sucks a nipple into his mouth, the sound high and sweet in the quiet of his room. The vibrations against your nipple of his answering moan make you squirm against him, and you thread a hand in his hair, unsure if you’re trying to keep him close or push him away.

He releases your nipple with a pop, blowing teasingly against the spit slicked peak and laughing low in his throat when you squirm against him again. “You taste so good, starlight. I can’t think about anything else,” he moans against you. He slides a hand down, teasingly dragging his fingers down your skin to your folds, where he swipes a finger through the wetness that he finds at the apex of your thighs. He teases your clit with a finger, tracing nonsensical shapes over it until you’re panting breathlessly underneath him. He slides a finger in, and you cling to him at the sensation of him inside you. He adds a second finger, slowly working you open, moving his fingers and rubbing his thumb over your clit. You can feel something twisting in your gut, a molten heat that spreads from your center to the rest of your body.

“I wish I could do this for longer, but I need to be inside you, starlight,” he murmurs. He brings his hand, still slicked with your wetness, to his shaft. He strokes himself a few times, before lining himself up at your entrance. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yes, Gojo, please,” you beg, dragging your nails gently down his back.

“Say my name,” he growls, pushing into you slowly. There’s a prick of pain as he enters you, but he reaches down to rub your clit and lets you slowly adjust. Once you open your eyes again, he grabs your hand and twines your fingers together, pressing into the pillow next to your head as he starts to move.

“S-satoru!” you cry out, arching your back at the sensation of him inside you.

“That’s it,” he encourages you, using his free hand to hike one of your legs further up on his back, opening you up to him. You can’t control the noises you’re making anymore, clinging onto him as he pounds into you. Gojo doesn’t seem to be faring much better, squeezing your hand and scattering mindless kisses wherever he can reach as he sinks into you. “Come on, cum for me starlight.” He bites at your neck, and with a twist of his thumb on your clit you find yourself coming apart at the seams. Your back arches and you clamp down on him, pulling a deep stuttering groan from his chest. You feel him twitch inside you, and as your body relaxes you feel a rush of warmth inside you. He finishes with a long moan, dropping his head to rest in the crook of your neck.

Gojo loops his arms around you and rolls over, letting you rest on his chest. You feel him press a kiss to your hair as he rubs a soothing hand up and down your spine. You move to get up, but his arms stay fixed around you. “Don’t leave,” he begs softly, his wide blue eyes staring up at you from his mussed sheets. You’ve gone this far, you decide. What’s a little further?

“Okay,” you whisper, nestling back down against his chest. He hums happily and pulls you closer, and between the gentle caress of his fingers, the warmth of his skin, and the beat of his heart you find yourself drifting back to sleep. This time, your rest is peaceful, unmarred by dreams of any kind.

You wake early, before the sun has risen. Gojo is still asleep, one arm loosely around your waist. You take in your state of undress, and spend a moment thinking about what to do next. There’s no future for the two of you together. You know this. For that to happen, you would both have to abandon your duty, and you know Gojo is as unlikely to waver in his duty as you are to walk away from yours. However, you can’t bring yourself to regret anything. Slowly, as to not disturb him, you climb out of bed and grab your clothes. You dress quietly and turn back to Gojo before you leave, coming over to stand next to his bed.

“Goodbye, Satoru,” you whisper, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. Then, you walk away, shutting the door quietly behind you. You are quiet as you return to your room. There’s not much to do to prep for your trip, but you find what you can do to keep your hands and mind busy in the short time between now and your departure.

Yuuta greets you in the hangar, but seems to sense that you’re not up for conversation this morning. You finish your flight prep together, and take off a little before you’re scheduled to leave. As you leave the hangar, you see a flash of white hair on the ground. You know he’s down there, but you choose not to look, focusing on the sky above you and the stars beyond.

One hyperspace jump later, you and your temporary apprentice land in the Dantooine enclave. Once you step out of the ship, you are greeted by the familiar sights and smells of the first home you can remember. The enclave smells like sunlight on warm grass, and old parchment and ink. It feels like coming home.

You are greeted by Knights you remember from your days in the creche, and introduce Yuuta to them. They are instantly taken by the young boy’s earnest charm, and you leave them to exchange pleasantries for a moment as you walk, taking in the familiar sights. Your comlink buzzes, but you choose to ignore it.

The both of you settle into your new environment quickly. Yuuta blooms like a flower under the doting care of the older archivists who are overseeing your work for the week, and spends every moment he can outside. After the first day, you introduce him to the wonders of the sunburn ointment the archivists of the enclave make for people who spend as much time out in the sun as he has. Your comlink has been buzzing regularly since you arrived, and you’ve taken to leaving it in your quarters, trusting the enclave masters to let you know if any important messages come through for you while you’re in the archives.

Four days into your trip, the enclave gets a ping from a distress beacon deep into the plains. You volunteer to investigate, bringing Yuuta along to help him with his field experience goals. In the interest of urgency, the two of you share one of the enclave’s speeder bikes, and you track the beacon to a grove of blba trees far to the north of the enclave. You leave the speeder bike a safe distance away, and reach out with the Force to try and assess the situation. Strangely, nothing appears when you cast your net, which sends a cold feeling trickling down your spine. Making a sign to Yuuta to be quiet, you approach the grove.

The beacon is embedded in the ground, flashing and beeping in intervals. There are no bodies around it, and after further investigation, not even signs of conflict. Your feeling of dread intensifies; either this is a simple prank or a trap, and your instincts are telling you it’s the latter.

“Hello, little light,” comes a smooth, deep voice from behind you. You straighten, and turn. Geto stands behind you, dappled in light and shadow underneath one of the trees. His hair is longer, and he’s clad in unfamiliar robes. A strange saber hilt is strapped to his waist, though he makes no move to draw it. “I have been waiting for this reunion for a long time. But before we can be properly reacquainted, I must speak to your young friend here.”

Geto turns to Yuuta. “Greetings, young Padawan,” he calls from across the glade. “I am glad to finally meet you. The rumors I have heard about you are simply fascinating.”

You step in between them. “Stay back, Geto,” you warn, hand on your saber.

“I came simply to talk,” he raises his hands in a placating gesture. He looks over your shoulder, where Yuuta is watching warily. “My name is Suguru Geto, young one. My goal is to liberate those blessed by the Force in our wide universe. Those blessed with gifts like ours should have people at our beck and call, instead of being at someone else’s disposal, don’t you agree?”

“We have our gifts to defend the weak,” Yuuta recites, taking a step back.

Geto clicks his tongue. “So new to the Order, and already reciting their scripture. Think, young Padawan, how many more people would we be able to help, to save, if things were different? Don’t you wish Rika could have been saved?”

You hear Yuuta’s gasp, though he tries to hide it. “That’s enough, Geto.” You draw your saber, finger on the ignition. “Don’t make me fight you.”

Geto ignores you, continuing to look at Yuuta. “Will you join me, Yuuta Okkotsu? All I want is to make the galaxy a safer place, one where young ones like you don’t have to become soldiers, and one where girls like Rika simply get to live.”

You hear Yuuta waver. You refuse to sway his emotions- you know this is a choice he must make on his own. He takes a step forward and your heart drops for a moment, before you hear the sound of his saber leaving his belt.

“I’ve heard stories about you too, Suguru Geto,” Yuuta says, leveling his saber at the man. “I’m not sure that your vision for the galaxy is not one that Rika would have wanted to live in.”

“What a shame,” Geto shakes his head. “If you will not join me, then take a message back to your Masters. Either they bring you to Malachor within a month’s time, or I will unleash what I have learned in my time in the shadows on both this enclave and the Temple on Coruscant.”

Your blade ignites with a hiss. “That won’t happen,” you level your blade, the tip pointing steadily at Geto. “Yuuta,” you call the Padawan’s name without breaking eye contact with your former friend. “Take the bike back to the enclave. Tell the Knights there what happened.”

“I can’t leave-” Yuuta begins, but you cut him off.

“Go, Yuuta. It is my duty to protect you and the rest of the enclave. Tell them what happened, and return with reinforcements.” You feel the boy’s emotional conflict, and you use your abilities to bolster his resolve. He hesitates for another moment, before nodding and clipping his saber to his belt.

“I’ll be back for you!” he calls over his shoulder as he darts to the bike. The engine roars to life and you hear him take off over the plains.

The only sounds in the glade now is the wind rustling through the tall grass, and the hum of your lightsaber, still ignited and leveled at one whom you had once sworn never to raise a blade against.

“What a loyal dog,” Geto shakes his head. “This is not quite what I had in mind for our reunion. Though if you insist we come to blows, I will indulge you.” He unclips his strange looking saber from his belt, and the scarlet blade roars to life with a crackle. You set your feet in your stance, lifting your blade to meet his as Geto comes flying at you. There is a sizzle and crackle as the blades cross, sparks flying in your vision as you stop his swing.

You push back, using a blast of Force energy to break his guard and swing at his weak spot. He manages to leap out of the way of your blow, his robes fluttering on the wind. Your blades crash together, his scarlet saber crackling with a strange energy. It shoots off sparks that burn your hands and face, and you find yourself on your back foot, trying to guard against his powerful swings.

In an attempt to regain some ground, you take a risk and drop under one of his swings, the sparking blade flying just past the top of your head. As you stand up, you position your saber in the path of his momentum, hoping that you’ll at least be able to wound him.

Geto chuckles. In a flash, he’s caught your saber hand, twisting your sword arm off to the side as his momentum carries you both to the ground. “I taught you that move, little light. I appreciate your resolve, but I will not be felled by such a trick.”

You watch his gaze drift lower, to where the collar of your robes has loosened. “Oh, what’s this, little light?” his free hand nudges aside your collar, revealing the shadow of the mark Gojo had left on you several nights before. “Who could have left this on you, little light?”

Geto powers off the saber he has held to your throat so he has clear access to your neck. He leans down, delicately sniffing along the skin that still bears the marks from your night of passion. “It was our dear friend Satoru, wasn’t it? I can practically smell him on you,” Geto purrs. “I did tell you to indulge, I suppose. I wish you would have waited, I wanted to indulge in you first.”

“What’s your game, Geto?” you ask. You wiggle your fingers, trying to subtly get a grasp on the hilt of your saber.

He clucks his tongue at you. “Now now, none of that,” he grabs your saber and clips it to his own belt, out of your reach. “I told you my plan- I want the boy. I’ve given those fools at the Temple everything they need: a reason to doubt a boy they already fear, and now I have you. You think Satoru wouldn’t give up that little apprentice of his to get you back?” Geto strokes a hand down your neck, pressing his thumb into the healing bruise just under your collar.

“I suppose the question now is, would I give you back for one apprentice?” he muses, looking down at you. He slides his hand up, grasping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “There’s something about you that just makes me want to keep you, my plan be damned. I doubt you’d mind, you’d just be trading one pretty tower for another. Either way, you’re very important to what happens next, and I can’t have you trying anything that would only end up hurting you. So, sleep, little light. You’ll want the energy for what comes next.”

Geto’s smile is the last thing you see before your eyes close, the power of the Force command dragging you under. You feel him lifting you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin, and then the darkness takes you.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #tw virginity loss #tw yandere #gojo smut #jjk smut #if you got this far mwah thank you ily #thank you for indulging my delulu #kaiawrites

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dumplingsfordays · 9 months

Text

modern au - roommate hcs !

ft. Kazuha, Scara, Xiao, Zhongli, Diluc, Albedo

I'm backk~

I haven't wrote in a little bit so I'm sorry 😭

Anyways this is a random idea I had, idk how well my thoughts are gonna translate into words but we'll see ig

Also idk if you need a warning for this but Diluc's has a mention of man titties so... do what you want with that ig

Reader's gender not specified, and this is not proofread!! Apologies for any mistakes, feel free to message me and I'll fix them :)

Image credit!

But as always, thank you for reading <3

++++

kazuha

- omg this man 😭😭 he is (imo) the best roommate you could ever have.

- he'd probably be super nice when you two first meet and stay that way!!

- he wakes up at a fairly good time too, and if he knows that you're sleeping, he'll try to be as quiet as possible.

- he does his share (and often a little more, if he has time) of the chores consistently.

- kazuha even follows a schedule on when to do certain stuff - he writes it down in a calendar in the kitchen

- he does like to cook when he has some free time, and they don't always turn out amazing but the smell will have your mouth watering.

- his room is super neat!! It's very aesthetic and a little minimalistic, but not overwhelmingly so.

- and it's always clean!!!!!

- he mostly hangs around either in his room or the living room on a couch. Sometimes he'll come into your room, but he always knocks!

- he respects your privacy too 😍 this man is a treasure, treat him well

- he doesn't mind hanging out with you!! If you're into makeup, he actually likes to go makeup shopping with you and just chill while you pick out some stuff :)

- everyone thinks you're partners when you guys hang out, but kazuha doesn't seem to mind 🤭

scara (sorry it's a bit short, never rlly written anything abt him before 😭😭)

- he's a little turd but you still like him, and he gets confused because why haven't you moved out yet????

- he probably spends like 80% of his time away from the house (apartment? wherever you guys live basically), but he still manages to do his chores on time

- HIS EYELINER SKILLS. IK THIS IS A LITTLE IRRELEVANT BUT THEYRE SO GOOD OMFG

- anyways, he really likes watching movies super late at night, so when you join him 20 minutes in with popcorn, it's sort of a bonding time for you two

- he doesn't cook, so he orders takeout a lot... and what really surprised you is that after a week or so of living together, he started to order for both of you because "you were whiny that I didn't get you anything"

- (he actually does it bc he's trying to say thanks for putting up with him :))

- he goes to bed super late and wakes up super late. You have to deal with this by not making ANY noise when you do stuff in the morning or he will be very grumpy for like 2 days (you learned this the hard way 😭)

- on days when he's friendlier, he'll bring you stuff like plushies when he gets back. He'll say that Yae or Yoimiya asked him to give these to you, but you doubt that those two gave you twelve stuffed animals in the span of a month.

xiao (another short one 😭 just like his height)

- I mean... He's okay?? He just sits in his room a lot and I headcanon that he's kinda sorta a gamer so

- he doesn't mind doing chores for you if you can't, but he'll do them a little late because he's like that

- this man SIMPS for Chinese food, like I'm not joking. He doesn't know how to make it, but before moving in w you he searched up Chinese restaurants and that's one of the reasons he moved in lmao

- you guys don't really see much of each other a lot... but you always, always go on grocery trips together. Why? Because he seems to consistently forget the shopping list that you wrote down for him at home, on the kitchen counter, and if you go shopping for him, he complains that you didnt get the things he asked for (but he doesn't write you lists 👀)

- he does have his sweet moments too. If you play videogames, he'll play with you if it's multiplayer. If it's not - no worries, you'll both play it, sitting side-by-side.

- if you're not into videogames though, he does like learning stuff, especially from you. He thinks that you're a good teacher, and even if it's you teaching him how to make coffee (because he doesn't know and wants to learn), he'll keep persevering through it just for you.

- oh boy. Room time.

- his room isn't that bad, if you can look past the giant pile of Monster cans in a trashcan below his desk. It's often dark, with the blinds down, and if you're walking down the hallway, there's a 90% chance that you'll see green led lights shining through the gap beneath his door.

- speaking of his door, it's covered in those signs that say stuff like 'warning! no stupid people beyond this point' or 'dont touch me until I've had my morning Monster'. If you couldn't tell yet, he's obsessed with Monster.

- he streams on twitch, and he's pretty popular, so you'll hear screams of disappointment coming from his room quite often.

- but one sight that you'll never forget is when you went to bring him apple slices (did I mention that he likes apples??), you opened the door to him standing in front of his monitor in a maid dress 😭. According to him, this was a dare that his viewers had him do, and that you better not mention this to anyone!!

- he was so red when he was explaining it though 🤭🤭 you, being the kind soul that you are, swore on your heart to keep it a secret :)

zhongli

- omfg you KNOW this man likes having meals with you. That's such a random thought but hear me out.

- when you eat, he eats with you at the table. Even if you made something only for yourself, he'll whip something up for him and eat with you.

- ANYways he likes to save money so much that his room only consists of a mattress on the floor, a coffee table for a desk, a beanbag in the corner, and a bookshelf that is practically overflowing with books. You take pity on him, of course, and buy him another bookshelf, which he now treasures :)

- probably has a lot of plants around the house/apartment, and he takes care of them as if they were his children. There isn't a day when there isn't a bouquet of flowers sitting on the dinner table.

- if you're allergic to pollen, though, he'll make sure to buy plants, not flowers, like China Dolls or aloe vera or cactuses, whichever you like best 🤭

- he LOVES reading!! Whenever you come downstairs, you'll see him reading, and if you're interested, he'll recommend it or books like it. He does wear reading glasses and he looks really hot in them but don't tell him I said that

- he probably takes forty-minute showers, and the shower is chock-full of hair products. 2-in-1 shampoo?? Zhongli's never heard of it. He may be (nearly) broke, but he takes care of his hair.

- tbh I think he likes to bake bread. Idk if COVID is a thing in the modern au, but if it is, then he was probably one of the people that searched up 'how to make banana/sourdough bread' and fell in love with making it...

- I like to think that he has a nice and neat schedule for each day, and his sleep schedule specifically is so freakin amazing. He goes to sleep at around 9-10, and wakes up at 6am sharp 😭

diluc

- he also likes tea before bed (and any other time of day really). He loves the different scents of the tea and it calms him a lot, so be prepared for a ton of afternoon tea parties with him :D

- ok so we know that Diluc is super rich and stuff but let's just pretend that he roomed w you to save money-

- he works out. A lot. Usually in the morning and around 8pm, and he always goes to this super fancy private gym or whatever.

- and he KNOWS that you go 'ooga booga man titties' mode whenever you see his chest so that bastard is almost always shirtless

- "Diluc why are u shirtless??" "It's hot in here" "...it's like 65 degrees. How tf are you hot"

- no but he's nice though, don't get me wrong. He'll help you do stuff around the house that you can't and he always seems to be there to help. Can't reach something? Diluc's there. Can't open something because it's too heavy? Diluc's got you.

- he'll do chores, just not very well. Can't do the dishes manually at ALL, and if you do have a dishwasher (which he buys on the third day if you don't), he will fall to his knees and thank the gods.

- he has a 10-step skincare routine. His skin is flawless and you are a little jealous, but if you really want to use some of his products, he won't mind :)

- he can cook (but not desserts/pastries lmao). He's super good with the grill, if you want grilled meat or fish or veggies or anything, really. But if you don't want it grilled, he's just as happy to make it using another method!!

- super good at board games, he's especially amazing at monopoly. Nobody can beat him, and he's proud of it >:)

- you've never been in his room for some reason, but you expect that it's very modern and monochrome, with hints of red (obvi).

- he usually has kinda red eyes in the morning, though, and when you asked about it he said that he likes going for night drives, but you were a little suspicious

- you stayed awake one night and you could hear him exit, but no car noises 🤔 you still wonder on what's he's doing so late almost every single night...

- also speaking about cars, the neighbors are always shocked that there's a lamborghini parked outside of your residence (house, apt building, what have you) lmao

- they're always like "do you have a rich bf?? Who is he??" and you're like "nah he's just my roommate :D"

albedo

- this man!!! He's so big brain!!!

- he'll definitely help you with studying for literally anything. Computer science? He got you covered. Bio? Sign him up. Hell, even art? He's super good at it so he won't mind teaching you!

- but when I tell you that he consumes a lot of coffee, it's a LOT. Like 4-5 cups a day. You wonder how, and even if, he sleeps.

- he makes really good coffee too! He bought one of those super cool ones and the coffee he makes is legendary. No wonder he drinks it so often!!

- he barely eats simply because he has so much work, and you essentially have to force him to come downstairs. You make him eat lunch and dinner, and occasionally breakfast if he can. He's super grateful for it, because he sometimes doesn't realize his hunger until he sits down at the table and his stomach growls like a bear-

- he loves classical music, especially Debussy, and it's always playing in his room. You started warming up to it, actually, and now whenever you hear Debussy, you think of Albedo.

- speaking of his room, it's... kinda messy, actually. Think paper and pencils and eraser shavings everywhere. He does clean it up like two times a month, but the papers always reappear within a couple days.

- he really likes art, and he'll hang some of his faves around the house/apartment :) it honestly makes the whole space feel cozier

- does his chores VERY last-minute, but he feels bad about it. You always tell him that it's nothing to worry about, that he still does them, but he insists on trying his best to do them earlier, which you appreciate :D

- he actually uses you as an art reference sometimes, only if you're free for an hour though. He doesn't like paying for models to come in and pose so he saves money by asking you... or at least that's what he says 👀

- your main bonding time is when you go in his room (or vice-versa) and just chill. He likes your company more than he'd like to admit, and you sometimes catch him staring at you from across the room when you're laying on his barely-used bed.

++++

note : sorry if some characters are a little ooc 😭😭 I'm not too good at writing Diluc n Scara so... OH ALSO I would've included Ayato too but I feel like hes not really the type of person to room w someone (well bc he would def flaunt his wealth by buying a private mansion or smth)

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berryhobii · 6 months

Note

I love your masterlist! I definitely can see myself visiting it frequently lol. Your work has so much return value I feel! If you don’t mind I would like to request something :) I feel that most writers like to do the “Yoongi and studio sex” scenario and I would love to see how you go about writing it. Like adding your own style and taste. It could be like Producer Yoongi x Producer/Artist Reader or even as simple as an established relationship but either way I just want see how you would write it 😩. No rush and if you don’t feel like doing it I completely understand lol I know you have a few other things you are working on. 🫶🏽

Thanks so much for request! I actually had 2 ideas for this but I went with this one. I’ll probably post the other as well once I make a few changes to it . If you haven’t already read Reconnect, please do! It’s another studio sex fic I wrote about Yoongi. Please enjoy and leave feedback if you want!🩵🩵🩵

“That’s good, y/n. We got that in one take. Good work.”

You gave them a a thumbs up. “Thank you.” Removing your headphones, you placed them on the microphone before stepping out of the recording booth.

You met your manager on the other side of the door who handed you a water bottle.

“Let’s take a lunch break. We’ll start on your new OST after.” She said. You nodded, giving a bow to the producers working with you and thanking them for their hard work.

Once alone in the studio, you went over to your purse to retrieve your phone, finding a text message on your screen from 10 minutes ago from your fiancé.

Sweets💕

Wanna have lunch?

Did he even have to ask?

You grabbed your purse, exiting the studio and starting your walk down the hall. As you traveled, you admired the multiple records that line the walls, smiling when you caught a few of yours. It’s been a long journey from where you started to where you were now.

Starting as a street performer barely making ends meet, your dreams seemed impossible to reach. You worked multiple part time jobs just to keep your teeny tiny apartment. Your parents had tried tirelessly to convince you to go to school and maybe marry into a stable family that could support you but that’s not what you wanted. Singing was your passion. It was what you were meant to do.

So when you were scouted during one of your performances by a major label, you could have jumped for joy(you did alone in your room later). Your luck was finally turning around! Trainee days came and went and you were ready for debut. You climbed to the top quickly with your angelic vocals, dominating the charts and becoming the jeweled voice of your company. You were most known for your multiple OST’s for dramas and television. You even had some producer credits on a few tracks. The career you lived was very fulfilling and joyous for you. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Luckily, fame and fortune wasn’t the only thing you got out of your career.

Stopping in front of a familiar door, you punched the code on the pin pad in, waiting for the beep before it opened.

“Knock knock.” You called once you peeked your head inside.

In a huge rolling chair, there your fiancé sat. He had his headphones on so he didn’t hear your voice.

Closing the door softly behind you, you creeped up to his desk. He seemed to be mixing some beats together, pale hands working over his keyboard. On a regular day, you’d scare the hell out of him but you were feeling incredibly good today so you just waved your hand in his peripheral.

He didn’t startle, simply turning his head to look up at you. His smile was sweet as he moved his headphones to around his neck.

“Hey. Ready for lunch?”

You leaned your butt against his desk. “Yup. What ‘cha working on?”

He leaned back in his chair, gaze running up and down your body. With the weather getting hotter, you’ve been wearing more skirts and dresses. He didn’t get a chance to see your full outfit this morning since you left before him. Under the haziness of sleep, he felt you press a kiss to his forehead and promised you’d see him later.

A part of him is a little happy he didn’t see you because he wouldn’t have let you leave the house without getting a taste of that sweet little pussy, especially if he were to see you in that tiny denim skirt.

His eyes traveled up the thickness of your ebony thighs up to the simple tank top you wore. With your jacket shoot for your new album already done, you were trying out new braid styles. This time were French curl braids in a light brown color. He honestly loved them, the full curls towards the ends made you look all fluffy and cute.

He patted his lap, beckoning you forward and how could you deny some intimate cuddles with your fiancé?

You pushed yourself off his desk, moving to sit on his lap. His chair was big enough for you to comfortably rest your knees on each side of his thighs. His hands immediately gravitated towards your ass, pulling you closer and your arms wrapped around his neck.

“Just some beats for my mixtape but I’m not feeling super inspired. I might go see if Namjoon needs any help. What about you? Are you done for the day?”

“I finished the last song for my album.” You informed. His eyebrows raised in acknowledgment.

“One take?”

You grinned. “You know it.” He lifted his hand to give you a high five, eyes staring at you with pride and adoration.

“That’s my girl.”

“Hmm. I like the sound of that.” You pressed a light kiss to his lips and he tried to chase you.

A light spank to your ass cheek. “Yeah?” His soft lips kissed at your collarbone, hands feeling up your ass and running up your back. His hands pushed your skirt up, letting out a groan as he gripped your full globes in his palms.

“Fuck. This ass is amazing.” He grunted, making a noise when he met bare cheeks. “Were you walking around with just panties under this?”

You shrugged one shoulder. “I was only recording today.“

“So you walk around with your bare ass out?” Not that he didn’t love it. Just meant easier access for him.

You jumped a little when you felt his fingers graze over your clothed heat. You also felt something poking you….

“Min Yoongi.” You sighed out his name with feigned annoyance, running your fingers through his hair. You couldn’t deny the rush that went down your body. It’s been a little while since you two have had some alone time. Your busy schedules often conflicted and when you did get home, you’d shower and pass out before anything could really start.

“Come on, baby. Just let me eat it. I’ll be quick. I swear.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah right. You only say you swear when you know you aren’t gonna take it seriously. If you were serious, you’d promise.” You knew him way too well. You learned the hard way about Yoongi’s secret meanings. Does he know how many meetings you’ve been late to because he swore he’d finish quick? You almost missed that opportunity with Cartier because he wouldn’t budge from between your thighs.

While sex with your fiancé was amazing, he liked to prolong your love making which meant quickies practically didn’t exist between you two. His stamina was unmatched, a sharp contrast to his sluggish and slightly indifferent personality. If he got started, there was no way you’d be done by the time lunch was over. And you were incredibly weak to his charms so you knew you’d fold and let him continue.

“Come on.” He urged, pressing a kiss to your weak spot on your throat making you sigh. Your nails scratched at his undercut. He recently got it done and you were obsessed. Although, you did miss his longer hair but this was a wonderful alternative. “I’ll do anything.”

“Welllllll, I guess we can miss lunch if….”

“If?”

“If you make dinner tonight.”

He leaned back a little to stare into your mischievous eyes, that adorable smile on your face. He couldn’t say no to you. Well, sometimes.

“I’ll make you whatever you want. So please?” You loved hearing him be all needy. It stroked your ego a little to know just how desperate he was for you. It was hard to resist.

“Fine. Hurry. These panties are uncomfortable.”

A deep groan rumbled in his throat and before you knew it, you were being hauled up on his desk. Your hands fumbled to stabilize yourself, a laugh bubbling in your throat.

“Someone’s horny.” You bit your lip.

His dark eyes stared up at your from between your legs making a tingle go down your body. He looked ready to devour you and something told you he was about to.

“Always for you.” He mumbled, running his hands up the insides of your thighs, placing some soft kisses and bites to the skin.

Your panties were off in the next minute, your bare cunt on display for him, already glistening and wet. Truthfully, you’ve been horny since you started walking to his studio. Thank goodness he was just as desperate for you as you were for him.

Yoongi wasted no time in diving between your thighs, licking a stripe up your slit to your sensitive little pearl. You sighed, finally getting a little relief.

His tongue danced on your clit, flicking the tip of the muscle against you.

Your hand buried in his hair, holding his bangs back so you get a good view. His eyes were closed, savoring the sweetness of your cunt. Yoongi doesn’t think he’s ever been more obsessed with pussy until he met you. You were always ready for him, ready to spread your legs whenever he wanted you.

“Ahhhh, Yoongi.” You hissed when he delivered a harsh suck to your clit.

He moved to grip your thighs, pulling your dripping cunt closer to his mouth before going absolutely crazy.

He rapidly shook his head back and forth against your pussy, slurping and sucking like a man starved.

Your moan was loud, the heels of your wedges digging into his upper back but you were careful of his shoulder. The fingers you tangled in his hair kept him buried in your core.

“Yoongi! Fuck!”

He pulled back from your cunt, lips and cheeks glistening with your arousal. “I love this juicy fucking cunt.” He growled before diving back in, sucking your clit between his pink lips. The sound of his gruff voice propelled you right to edge of that pleasurable cliff.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum. Oh my god!”

He didn’t relent, focusing all of his attention on your bud and that was enough to hurtle you into orgasm. His eyes lifted to stare at you, his own cock hardening at your pleasured face—mouth dropped open, cat like eyes misty. You were stunning.

His movements slowed, licking you through your orgasm until you shuddered as overstimulation prickled at you.

Pulling away, he waited for you to come down, massaging your shaking thighs until you were ready.

“Damn.” You panted. “You do that too well. It feels….illegal almost.”

He grinned. “Why thank you. Now could you please sit on my cock before I explode.”

“Gladly.”

Pants around his ankles and you facing away from him in his lap, you rode his cock like a seasoned professional. Your hands were braced against his desk, feet held together and head dropped forward as his cock stretched you open.

Yoongi gritted his teeth as your slick walls slid up and down his cock. He couldn’t take his eyes away from your plump ass and creamy cunt, the wet slap and squelch of your movements sending him into a frenzy.

His palm came down on your ass, a gasp coming from your throat at the sting. “Y-yoon….”

Both of his hands gripped your waist, pulling you down harder onto him. “That’s it, baby.”

You were already close again, his cock rubbing up against every sensitive spot inside of you. Every inch of your skin was covered in sweat, your legs quivering from exertion. Thank goodness for all that Pilates and yoga or your knees would have given out a long time ago.

Yoongi thrusted his hips up to meet yours, a loud moan passing your lips as his cock hit deeper.

You felt him move and you were hauled to your feet, one of his hands pressing your chest into his desk. Your stiletto nails clawed at the wood, leaving slight indents as he began plowing into your squishy cunt. Drool leaked down the side of your mouth leaving a puddle against his desk.

You bit your lip hard enough to bleed, knees shaking as your orgasm neared. His balls smacked against your throbbing clit with each thrust, sending little tingles through you.

Yoongi tossed his head back, hips clapping against your ass, his spine tingling and balls drawing up as he felt ready to cum.

Your hands reached back to spread both of your ass cheeks, giving him a better view of his cock penetrating your walls. He could have cried from how perfect you were.

“Shit….cumming baby.”

“I want it, Yoon. I’m gonna cum.”

A few more thrusts and both of you were hurtling off the edge. Yoongi held you hard enough to bruise, pushing his entire cock into your convulsing walls. You scrambled to grab something on his desk, his keyboard and a few pens clattering and falling to the ground but you’d worry about that later.

Hot spurts of cum filled splashed against your walls, your cunt milking him for everything he had. He huffed as he gave you a few more weak strokes before pulling out and flopping down to his chair. You remained bent over on his desk, trying to catch your breath.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he reached out for you. You sighed at the feeling of his warm hands gently rubbing at your skin.

“I’m fine. I’m starving though.” You lifted yourself up on shaky legs, mentally cursing yourself for keeping your shoes on. It’s like you wanted to fall over.

He watched you carefully, gulping as milky white streams began to leak out of you, running down your legs and he felt his cock twitch again.

You did say you two could skip lunch if he made dinner…..and there was still 10 minutes of lunch time…

A hand on your back pushed you down to your previous position, a squeak a surprise coming from you followed by a moan as you felt his lips back on your clit.

“Min Yoongi! I have to go back to recording!”

Using his hands to spread your cunt open, he licked his lips at the sight of your pink opening winking at him and pushing more of his cum out.

“I’ll be quick. I swear.”

#bts #bts smut #bts x black reader #yoongi smut #bts fic #bts imagines #askberryhobii

108 notes · View notes

daisynik7 · 1 year

Text

Primetime

Part 3 of Dirty Thirty

🎶 Baby it's a prime time for our love, ain't nobody peekin' but the stars above. It's a prime time for our love, and heaven is betting on us. 🎶

Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

cw: Switching POVs (Kishibe third-person, reader second-person), vaginal sex (cowgirl, doggy, missionary), nipple play, spit play, cunnilingus, spanking, breeding kink, daddy kink, lots of fluff, pet names (princess, baby)

Word Count: ~6.5k

Summary: You and Kishibe are officially a couple. These are the little moments that all lead up to the big one.

Notes: I did it. I wrote a Part 3; I hope you all like it! Title inspired by the song “Primetime” by Janelle Monae ft. Miguel, definitely recommend listening to this to set the mood right! Please read the first two parts, linked below! Likes, reblogs, and comments are all super appreciated, would love to hear what you all think!

Part 1 - Dirty Thirty | Part 2 - After Last Night | ao3

Kishibe doesn’t know how to be a good boyfriend.

It’s been almost a month since he and his girlfriend started dating. This morning, he displays a photo booth picture at his cubicle. She convinced him to do it while they were at the beach boardwalk this past weekend, and of course, he couldn’t refuse her. He never can, despite being opposed to corny shit like that. But even he can admit that the photos turned out decent.

Nobody is at their desk unless they’re filling out paperwork, so he doesn’t think anyone will notice. However Himeno, one of his current protégés, is keen, observant, and a goddamn nosey pest.

“Master, is this your girlfriend?” She points at the photo strip, a hint of excitement bubbling behind her typically calm demeanor.

Not wanting this to be a bigger deal than it needs to be, he casually answers, “Yes.”

“I see.” There’s a clever smirk on her face, as if she’s plotting something cheeky to say. He’s surprised when instead, she comments, “That is a very nice picture.”

He grumbles in response, not used to small talk involving his personal life.

“How long have you been dating?”

“Almost a month.” He pretends to be preoccupied with organizing all his forms, avoiding eye contact, wishing for this conversation to end.

“What are you doing for your anniversary?”

This gets his attention. “Huh?”

“Your one-month anniversary. What are your plans to celebrate?”

Finally, he meets her gaze, setting aside his stack of papers. “People celebrate that?”

“Well, couples do, yes.”

He stares at her, unsure how to react. It’s been decades since his last relationship, probably during grade school if he’s remembering correctly. Obviously, the standards have changed since then, but to celebrate a month of dating? It seems trivial to him. Then again, he hasn’t had a serious girlfriend as an adult. It’s going extremely well between them, and he doesn’t want to mess this up, especially only after a few weeks into it.

Too proud to ask his junior for advice, he takes his lunch break to eat a bowl of ramen while scrolling through his phone, searching every article he can find on how to celebrate anniversaries. He finds a few ideas that he can get on board with, and some he completely tosses out the window because of how fucking ridiculous they are.

By Friday night, the actual day of their anniversary, he has a plan. A little before 6:00 PM, he buzzes her in and waits for the familiar knock on the door. When he opens it, she greets him with a warm smile. “Kishibe.”

She wears a modest dress, having just come from the office. Overnight bag in hand, ready to spend another weekend here at his apartment. Once inside, she drops her belongings and wraps her arms around him. “Hi.”

He returns her embrace, inhaling the pleasant scent he yearns for on the days they’re not together. “How are you?”

“Tired. I’m ready for a nice, relaxing weekend with my boyfriend.” Every time she calls him that, his chest swells with an odd sensation. He hasn’t gotten used to it yet, but it’s not unwanted. In fact, he quite likes it.

As she removes her shoes by the door, he sneaks into the kitchen to retrieve the bouquet he purchased earlier from a local florist. Thirty red roses, one for each day they’ve been a couple. He read online that this is considered romantic.

He walks towards her with the bouquet in his grasp, her eyes and smile widening at the scene before her. “What’s this?”

“Happy one-month anniversary.” He thrusts the roses forward, hoping she takes it. She continues to stare at him with a big grin on her face.

“What?” He’s blushing now, nervous that this is all wrong. “Say something.”

She grabs the flowers, lifting them towards her nose to sniff. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

He clears his throat. “We also have reservations at your favorite restaurant in an hour.”

At this, she lets out a small squeal. “Really? You didn’t have to do any of this,” she says, face still buried in the flowers, clearly enjoying this.

“I wanted to.”

She sets the roses down on the counter, stepping towards him to tug playfully on his tie. “You really are the sweetest. I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything. I’m such a terrible girlfriend.”

“The worst,” he smirks, sliding his hands around her waist.

“Can I make it up to you?” She kisses him, slow and passionate, using his tie to pull him deeper. “Show you how sorry I am?”

He plays along, knowing exactly where this is leading. “You better be sorry. I’m pretty upset.”

“I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me, then.”

“We’ll see.” They walk to the couch in tandem, gazing into each other’s lust filled eyes.

When he’s sat, she straddles him. “Do you remember the night we first met? We were right here on this couch.”

“How can I forget?” He roams up and down her back, the fabric of her dress silky on his calloused fingers.

“Well, my memory is a little hazy. Remind me.” She guides his hands to her chest, kneading her breasts.

“You’re being very naughty right now,” he mutters in his low voice. “First, no gift. Now this. Seems like you want to be punished.”

“Yeah, I do. I need to be punished. I’m a very bad girlfriend.” She peers at him with a desperate expression, eyes gleaming with desire. He can’t help but falter under her gaze.

“Fuck, you’re asking for it.” He lifts the hem of her dress over her ass, feeling for her panties. Sliding his fingers beneath the lace, bunching it in his fist it to bury between her ass cheeks, exposing her beautiful bottom. Perfectly bare for a good spanking. She sucks in a breath, anticipating it, aching for it. He presses a gentle kiss to her ear before delivering a loud smack, focused on the jiggle of her supple flesh upon contact.

“Fuck, baby. Do it again,” she demands, grinding on his lap.

He repeats, this time on the opposite side, massaging the tender skin after. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She presses her forehead to his. “You never do. Don’t worry.”

They kiss as they strip their remaining clothes. Soon, they’re completely naked on the couch, her on his lap, kissing along his neck. He reaches his fingers towards her pussy, caressing his thumb on her clit.

“Baby,” she whines. “I want you inside me. I want to ride this cock until we both come.”

“Then do it, sweetie. I’m all yours.”

It’s reminiscent of their first time. They were hasty that night, desperate for a quick fuck with a total stranger. Indulging in wicked fantasies they both needed satiated. This time, it’s more intimate. He pays attention to the sound of her heartbeat, the warmth in her cheeks, goosebumps forming on the most sensitive spots of her skin, the angelic sounds coming from her lips. Memorizing it all until it’s ingrained in his mind.

His cock is sprung against his abdomen, already leaking precum at the tip. He grabs hold of his erection, rubbing the head onto her puffy clit, tapping it loudly. Wet slaps spurring her to rut into his lap faster. Her hands are clasped around her tits, fingers pinching at her hardening nipples, erotic as ever in front of him. It’s a captivating sight he’s seen before, but always marvels, still in disbelief at his luck one month ago when he first laid eyes on her.

He strokes himself, spreading precum along the shaft, though it’s not enough. “Spit on it, princess. Get it wet for me.”

She nods, bowing her head to dribble a warm stream of saliva down onto his cock, coating his dick. Slick enough, she lifts up to position him at her entrance, sinking down gradually until she’s sat on his lap again, wiggling her ass to get herself comfortable.

He hums, relishing the sensation of being nestled inside her precious cunt, holding her in a snug embrace. They stay like this for a moment, him sliding one hand around her breast, kissing her nipple.

“Kishibe,” she breathes out, eager for more.

He sucks it plump against his lips, flicking his tongue on it, listening for her pleasured moans with each lick. His cock twitches inside her, still hard, surrounded by her wet heat. The temptation to fuck her is almost irresistible; however, seeing her in this blissful state is too marvelous to rush.

“Baby, fuck,” she whines, as he works on her other tit, pulling it taut with his mouth. It’s his favorite, witnessing her unravel on top of him. And tonight is a celebration. It makes it all the more special.

Releasing her, he leans back, holding her sides once more, watching her slowly rock back and forth on his thighs. “Go ahead. Ride me. Fuck me till we both come. You can do it.”

Using her knees for leverage, she rises slightly, keeping just his tip inside, them sinks back down, repeating so that she’s bouncing on his cock steadily.

“There you go. Use that cock, baby. Just like that,” he whispers, staring at his dick disappearing into her pussy. He stays still, letting her do all the work, resisting the urge to slam his hips into her. He wants to savor this, indulge in it as long as he possibly can.

Cupping her face, he teases her lips with his thumb, slipping it inside her mouth for her to suck on. She holds his wrist, sticking it further down her tongue, spreading her saliva around him. He pulls it out, a string of shiny spit connected to her lips as he reaches down to touch her clit.

“Ah, Kishibe. That feels so good,” she praises, riding him faster.

“You’re getting close, I know it. Come for me, baby. Make us both come.” He holds her close, tongues slipping into each other’s mouths, messy and wet. His thumb toys with her swollen clit, her wanton moans vibrating against his lips. His abdomen is clenched tight, ready for release. He wants to spill inside her, give her his all, just as she does for him.

Unable to resist any longer, he grips her bottom, holding her in place. He starts thrusting up into her, feet planted firmly to the floor, couch squeaking with every plunge of his hips. She’s tight around him, slick already creamy on his shaft, her fingers rubbing fast on her bud to reach her climax faster. Her high-pitched whimpers and obscene squelches of arousal spur him on, driving him further and further off the edge. They come together, cum filling up her pussy until it’s leaking between them, the sticky aftermath evidence of their passionate love making. They catch their breaths, Kishibe relaxing on the couch as she slumps over him, face buried in his neck. Soon, she starts giggling. He can’t help but join.

“You really are a terrible girlfriend, making me come right before dinner,” he teases her.

“I had to do my part after you planned such a lovely evening.” She sighs happily. “I’m so lucky to have a thoughtful boyfriend.”

“It’s really nothing,” he waves off.

“It’s definitely something. I’m truly so lucky,” she reiterates, nuzzling comfortably against him. “So lucky.”

A while passes before he reluctantly suggests, “We should get ready soon.”

“Wait. Let’s just stay like this for another minute or two,” she murmurs, clinging to him tighter.

He chuckles, thankful she suggested it, because that’s exactly what he wants to do too. “Okay. Whatever you say.”

“Happy anniversary, Kishibe.”

“Happy anniversary, princess.”

~~~

The first time Kishibe tells you he loves you, he’s drunk.

He has an assignment outside of the city, food and lodging included, staying at a hotel with his protégé, Himeno, who you’ve met several times in the three months you’ve been dating. You’re well acquainted with her, so much so that you even have her number, in case of emergencies. However, she often texts you anyways just to chat, which you don’t mind at all.

On the last day of his mission, he informs you that he’ll be out for drinks with his partner and a few other members of Public Safety. It must have been a successful job, considering there were no deaths, either civilians or devil hunters. It’s always a relief, knowing that Kishibe has survived another day.

You lie in bed, scrolling through the myriad of texts you’ve exchanged with him over the past week. Although he considers himself a man of few words, he never fails to send you a message whenever he can, whether it’s a good morning text, a quick check in, even a snapshot of what he’s eating that day. Tonight, he barely contacts you, busy celebrating with his comrades. You can’t blame him, but there’s no denying it; you miss him.

Being in your own bed on a Friday night, in the dinky apartment you share with your not-so-stellar roommate, is a feeling you’ve happily become unfamiliar with. You wish you were in Kishibe’s luxurious king-sized bed instead, snuggled in his strong arms, being kissed and licked all over. His gruff voice hot in your ear, whispering sweet nothings that make you melt.

Without thinking, you send him a text, simply stating I miss you. You don’t wait for a reply, distracting yourself with a show, surrounded by blankets and pillows to fill the void left by his absence. When did you become so needy?

On the verge of sleep, the vibration and ping of your phone stirs you awake. It’s almost 11 PM. Your heart flutters, hoping it’s your boyfriend. You’re surprised to see Himeno’s name on the notification.

It’s a picture of Kishibe, slumped over at a table, clearly drunk. His other colleagues pose beside him, some waving peace signs, others sticking their tongues out, all of them holding beers. You chuckle at the image, happy to see all of them smiling and lively. Even if your boyfriend is intoxicated out of his wit’s end, at least you know he’s alive. Death is a new fear you’ve inherited since being seriously involved with a devil hunter. You spend every waking moment together, treating it like it’s your last, because you never know if it is.

As you admire the photo, you suddenly get a call from the sender. “Hello?” you answer.

Himeno’s voice is soft through the speaker. “Hi there, friend. Did you like what I sent you?” You imagine her leaning on the wall outside the bar, preparing to smoke.

You laugh. “I do. Thank you for that. I hope he’s not giving you too much trouble.”

“On the contrary, he was our source of entertainment tonight.” On the other end of the line, you hear the drag of her cigarette.

“Really?”

She lets out a puff before answering, “Yes. He wouldn’t shut up about how amazing his girlfriend is.”

A rush of heat surrounds your cheeks, either from flattery or embarrassment. “What?”

“He kept gushing on and on about you, it was non-stop.”

“That doesn’t sound like Kishibe. Are you sure you’ve got the right one in there?”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she chuckles. “To be fair, he’s had quite a lot to drink. And his tolerance has turned to shit. What’s up with that?”

You’ve recently noticed the subtle changes in his drinking habits. His flask stays on the dish rack all weekend, coincidentally whenever you’re visiting. He rarely orders liquor when you’re out to dinner. He only indulges in a bottle of wine the two of you share occasionally over a home-cooked meal.

“I don’t know,” you answer, not wanting to admit anything on Kishibe’s behalf.

You hear her hum in response, taking another hit of her cigarette. “I think it’s because he’s happy. He doesn’t need to forget anymore because he’s got you.”

The words hang tight in your throat, leaving you speechless.

She giggles faintly, aware of the depth her statement holds. “Anyways, I called in case you want the address to our hotel. Master is staying in the room right next to mine. Given the state he’s in, he may need his lovely girlfriend to take care of him.”

You think about this for a minute, still reeling over her touching sentiment just a few seconds ago. Before you can refuse, she offers, “I’ll call you a cab and charge it to work. Consider it a service you’re fulfilling for Public Safety, assisting our highest ranked Devil Hunter.”

Eventually, you agree, thanking her for the idea. She chats with you a while longer as you hastily pack a gym bag with all the essentials, excited to reunite with Kishibe. You hang up with her once you’re out of the apartment, cab already waiting for you. Ten minutes to your destination, you text Himeno your status, allowing her time to bring him back to the hotel to meet you.

You’re waiting in the lobby when you hear the doors open to see Kishibe hunched between Himeno and another colleague. Her face lights up when she sees you, prompting her to nudge him in the ribs. “Hey, Master. Guess who’s here?”

He lifts his head up slowly, eyes completely blitzed, as he rasps, “Huh?”

You approach them, grinning from his ridiculous expression. It takes a while for him to process, blinking rapidly, as if correcting his vision. When he finally realizes it’s you, he stands up a little straighter and whispers your name.

“Surprise,” you say, waving in front of him.

He repeats your name again, removing himself from his coworkers to wrap his arms around you. The smell of liquor is intense, indicating just how drunk he really is.

“I guess our work here is done,” Himeno smirks. “I think Master is in good hands now. Let’s go, Arai.” She passes you the key card to the room, giving you one last wink before they leave towards the elevators.

“Kishibe, let’s go to the room now,” you tell him, his body drooped over you.

“Don’t leave me,” he whines, voice husky from inebriation.

“I’m not, we’re going to your room together,” you explain, rubbing his back. “Can you walk with me to the elevator?”

He nods languidly, dragging his feet beside you as you make your way up to his room. Inside, he immediately shrugs his overcoat off and collapses into bed face first. You sit at the end of the bed, patiently removing his shoes from his feet.

In the bathroom, you soak a small bath towel in warm water, wringing out any excess liquid. You grab a fresh bottle of water from the mini fridge and crack it open, pouring it into a glass for easy access. Kishibe grunts into the pillow as you sit beside him, rolling him over so he’s face up. When he sees you, he grins. “Am I dead?”

“Of course not, sweetie,” you answer, placing the warm towel on his forehead, gently pressing your palm on top.

“Then why is there an angel here with me?” He lifts his arm to point at you.

“You’re so ridiculous, you know that?”

He reaches for you, tugging at your sleeve. “The only thing that’s ridiculous is how fucking beautiful you are.” He lays your hand on his cheek, nestling into your palm like a puppy. It’s a side of him that you’ve seen brief glimpses of, but never to this extent.

“You’re drunk,” you tease him, tapping your thumb at his chin.

“Drunk in love,” he replies, chuckling to himself.

Love. Maybe you’re both too old to put such meaning into words. There’s no doubt that it’s there, never admitted out loud. Why bother saying it when it’s so obvious?

You caress his cheek, tracing the scar that you love so much. He’s told you the story behind it more than once, each time, a new detail added that you tuck away into your treasure box of him in your brain.

You love everything about him. His past, his present. Flaws and perfections, or the lack thereof. He’s rough around the edges, definitely not sugar-coated, even a bit intense. His immense strength is hidden beneath his stoic demeanor, reserved specifically to hunt devils, never fully revealed to you. Still, you feel safe with him, as if all potential dangers are thwarted in his mere presence. You’ve heard it enough to know that he’s a force to be reckoned with, a serious outlier in a job where young people die and growing old doesn’t exist. He’s the exception.

And you’re the same for him. A life beyond the confines of devil hunting. An escape that doesn’t involve a bottle. A chance at normalcy in a world where nothing for him is normal. It almost never happened. The first night you met, he warned you about his lifestyle, watched you walk away for your own sake. And now, you’re the exception.

He gazes at you with half-lidded eyes, still intoxicated, but fully aware. Smiling, he whispers your name. “I love you.”

You stare at him, startled by his candid confession. The words are on the tip of your tongue, easy and effortless, because you truly feel it. But you don’t say it back, thinking he’ll forget this conversation in the morning. You want it to be special, not in the midst of his drunken stupor.

So, you keep quiet, gradually removing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt, and loosening his belt. After you change and brush your teeth, you return to him, coaxing him into drinking water, which he does, before you both settle under the covers, cuddling. Eventually, he falls asleep, you following him soon after.

In the morning, you wake up to Kishibe caressing your cheek, delicately petting your temple. He’s turned towards you, shirtless and smiling. “Good morning, princess.”

You bite your lip, happy to see him. “Good morning.”

“You surprised me last night, didn’t you?” He pulls you in closer.

You burrow your face against his bare chest, last night’s booze almost completely worn off. “You can blame Himeno for that. She’s very convincing.”

“I’ll make sure to thank her. Somehow, she knew that I needed you.” He cradles you, kissing your forehead. “By the way, you owe me something.”

“What?”

“You know what.”

You look up at him. “You remember?”

“Of course I remember.” Pressing his forehead to yours, he whispers, “I love you.”

The second time Kishibe says it, he’s completely sober. And this time, you say it back.

~~~

When he asks her to move in with him, he almost doesn’t go through with it.

It’s a Sunday morning. They’ve been dating for six months now, spending most of their time in his apartment, snuggled in his king-sized bed. She often complains about her place, the typical grievances of an adult woman living with a roommate she doesn’t particularly get along with. But it’s not her woes that convince him to ask her. It’s his own selfish desires.

He wants to wake up every single morning to her pretty face, to that warm smile that ignites every nerve in his body, that cute laugh that plays like the most majestic melody in his head. He doesn’t need drugs or caffeine to give him that energy boost. He needs her.

Today is different than other Sundays. She warned him the night before; she needs to leave early to attend to some roommate business. They’re having issues with the refrigerator, and she, apparently, needs to be there to deal with it.

They cuddle in bed, enveloped by blankets and body heat, kissing each other softly. This usually leads to something steamy, but not today. When she pulls away to get ready to leave, he’s disappointed, enough that he mutters, “Don’t.”

She turns to face him with a confused expression. “Don’t what?”

He pauses, doubting himself if this is the right moment, so he keeps quiet.

She returns to the bed, hopping on top of him, palms at his cheeks. “Don’t what, sweetie?”

“Don’t leave,” he musters, through gritted teeth.

Giggling, she nuzzles her nose against his. “You know I have to.”

“You don’t. Not if you live here with me.”

“Are you asking me to move in?”

“Yeah, I am.”

She squeals, smile incapable of being any bigger. The reaction he was hoping for. “Took you long enough. I can’t believe I get to live with you.” She kisses his scar, then his forehead. “My baby.” A smooch on the lips. “My new roommate.”

He keeps her there, kissing her deep, tongue slipping inside her mouth. She moans into him, grinding her hips on his lap.

“I’m taking this as a yes, then?”

She nods, sucking on his lower lip. “Mm-hm.”

“Don’t you have to meet your roommate soon?” he reminds her, slipping beneath her shirt to fondle her breasts.

“I don’t fucking care anymore. I’m going to be living with my boyfriend soon. She can get mad at me all she wants.”

He never gets sick of hearing her call him that. Her boyfriend. He’s hasn’t been anyone’s for the longest time. It feels good to be hers. “Are you still sore from last night?” He reaches his other hand down to rub her clit over her panties.

“A little bit,” she answers, scattering kisses along his neck.

“Let me eat it then,” he whispers, sucking on her ear lobe, slipping past the fabric to slide his finger up and down her folds. “Ride my fucking face. Give me my breakfast in bed. Want to eat this pussy until I’m full.”

It’s safe to say that the relationship with her old roommate is properly ruined this day, in favor of her new one.

~~~

Kishibe is the first to mention having kids.

A year into your relationship, he tags along to your niece’s birthday party. The mother, Hina, who is your best friend, has already met Kishibe on multiple occasions, but never in a setting like this. A children’s party is another level of crazy that even the insane devil hunter himself might not be able to bear.

After the usual round of greetings, your niece, Maki, immediately stands in front of him to peer at his face, curious. In his gruff voice, he greets, “Happy birthday, Maki,” proceeding to pat her awkwardly on the head.

She continues to stare at him, a glint of suspicion in her expression. “Are you an FBI agent or something?”

For some reason, he decided to wear his work attire to a children’s party. You’re trying to contain your laughter as he clears his throat to answer her. “Actually, I am a devil hunter.”

Maki’s eyes go round. “Devil…hunter…?”

“Yup.”

Without taking her gaze off of him, she starts yelling for all her friends, who come running immediately, all marveling at Kishibe. He glances at you, brows twitching slightly in concern. All you can do is grin at him, knowing he’s in for it.

For the next hour or so, the kids take advantage of this opportunity to entertain their premiere guest, challenging him to see how many of them he can carry at once, demanding to be shown his “special” moves, even go so far as to gnaw at his overcoat, acting like true devils. He takes it all in stride, his stoic expression cracking occasionally into the tiniest smile.

You sneak him a few slices of pizza as he bicep curls three of the kids, including birthday girl Maki. Before he eats, he gives you a smooch on the cheek, indicating that he’s actually enjoying himself.

From the other side of the room, you sit next to Hina, who’s carrying her other child, baby Kenji. You’re playing peek-a-boo when your friend asks, “So, do you think you and Kishibe will ever have kids?”

“We haven’t even talked about marriage yet, we’re for sure not thinking about kids.”

“You two don’t talk about that stuff?”

It’s been a year now since you’ve been with Kishibe, and it’s still going extremely well. You’ve been preoccupied with enjoying the relationship that you haven’t thought to discuss important matters yet. You shrug and answer, “No, not really.”

“Well, don’t you think you should bring it up?”

You think for several seconds before answering, “We’re taking it one step at a time. We’re fine where we’re at now.”

She gives you a look, as if she wants to say something else, but she ends up dropping it. Maki’s voice rings out from the living room, calling for her. “Oh shoot, can you hold Kenji for a bit? Maki needs me.”

You agree, holding your arms out to cradle him. He peers up at you with the whimsy and wonder that most babies radiate. You smile, finding a comfortable position to hold him in.

“You’re a natural.” You look up to see Kishibe standing in front you, a birthday hat on his head, probably forced there by the rugrats.

“And you’re a hit,” you reply, grinning. “The kids love you. Are you having fun?”

He removes his hat to place on you instead. “I don’t mind it.” He hovers over your face to give you a playful pinch on your cheek.

Kenji starts to fuss, to which you focus your attention back to him, cooing until he’s peaceful again. From your peripheral, you spot your boyfriend watching you intently.

“You’d make a good mother,” he states, quietly.

You look up at him, surprised by his statement. “Really?”

“Yeah. You look good like this,” he comments, nonchalant, as if he’s playing it off. You remain silent, still unsure how to respond.

Then, he comments, “I think we’d be good parents, you and I.”

“You do?” You beam at him, impossible now to contain.

“Yeah. We’d be great,” he reiterates, gazing at you with a soft, loving expression.

On the drive home from the party, Kishibe rests his palm on your thigh as he steers with the other. There’s a new vibe between you now, knowing that you’re both on the same page about having children. He actually seems excited about it.

Back at the apartment, after you put away all of the leftovers from the party, you both retreat into the bedroom to change. While you’re stripped almost bare, aside from your bottoms, he approaches you, hugging you from behind as he kisses your nape.

You giggle, craning your neck to face him. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he whispers, grazing your ear with his lips.

“About what?”

“Making a baby with you.” His voice is low and sultry as his hands glide to your waist, slowly slipping under the elastic of your pajamas.

“Are you serious right now?”

“Mm-hm.”

His fingers find your pussy, rubbing the fabric against your clit. The other hand tugs your pants past your ass, causing them to fall to the floor, bunched at your ankles. You let out an exasperated moan, almost annoyed at his timing, but most definitely turned on. You lift your feet to shove your clothes away, reaching behind to palm his erection. Of course he isn’t wearing clothes, clad in only his boxer briefs, which are tight around his growing bulge. You’ve been ambushed, and you don’t know whether to be worried or horny. Probably the latter.

Within a minute, the two of you are naked on top of the bed, not bothering to lie under the covers. He kisses you all over your body, starting at your needy lips, dragging his tongue down to abdomen to nestle his face into your plush stomach. Seconds later, his mouth is surrounding your clit, swishing his spit, swirling his tongue, your whimpers filling the room. You spread your thighs wider, grabbing onto the top of his head, binding his hair into a fist to pull him off when it gets too sensitive. Though he never lets you, always relentless when he eats you out.

When you come, he slurps on your slick until he’s satisfied, dipping his tongue deep into your pussy walls, collecting every drop of you into his mouth. Once he’s finished, he climbs on top, kissing you on the lips, still wet with your arousal, tasting it for yourself. You wrap your fingers around his hard cock, stroking him before he stands at the edge of the bed, pulling you towards him to position himself in front of you. You hear him open the bedside drawer, retrieving the regularly used bottle of lube, the snap, squelch, and click a familiar sound.

He guides his dick into you slowly, pulling away at the slightest resistance, only to thrust back in gently. Your cunt squeezes around him as he fucks you, bent over your chest to suck on your nipples simultaneously. Without warning, he releases you from his mouth to hoists your legs up onto his shoulder, cock plunging farther into your pussy.

Surprised, you cry out, “Kishibe!”

His eyes are wild, an animal in heat, fucking you harder and deeper. “I want to fuck a baby in you just like this. Breed you until you’re round in your belly.” He slides his palm over your stomach, stroking around your navel. “Right here.”

There are tears in your eyes from the pleasure, your throat dry from the excessive moans he’s drawing out from you. All you can do is take it.

“You fucking love this, don’t you? I’ll be such a good daddy to you and our baby,” he grunts.

You nod your head erratically, babbling, “Fuck, I want that so bad. I want that so bad, daddy.”

He chuckles, breathing staggered. “You like calling me daddy now, knowing I’m going to breed you. Knowing I’m going to give you my fucking seed.” He’s hitting your sweet spot over and over, fingers rapidly toying with your clit.

“Fuck, right there!”

“Daddy’s hitting it good, huh? Giving it to you so fucking good. Gonna fill this pretty pussy with all of my daddy cum, isn’t that right, princess?” He huffs filthy words at you, completely immersed in whatever carnal instinct is controlling him in this moment.

You tremble all over, skin hot with passion as you climax. He pumps his cock into you, spilling his load until his balls are emptied out. He pulls out slowly, watching his creamy cum leak out of your slit, enjoying it like a masterpiece that he helped paint.

He lies beside you, both of you calming down from your orgasms. “Was that too much?” he asks, rubbing your belly again.

“No. It was great,” you reassure him, smiling as you cover his hand with yours, entwining your fingers. “Didn’t think you’d have a baby fever all of a sudden.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t sure I wanted kids. Not since recently.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because now I have a chance at a life like that. I never knew that was possible for me until I met you.”

Your heart swells at this, blinking your eyes to rid any residual or oncoming tears. You lean close to kiss him softly on the cheek. “I love you, Kishibe.”

“I love you too, princess.”

~~~

He proposes on a sunny afternoon in the middle of the week during spring. Cherry blossom season.

A few months ago, on a whim, they went ring shopping, for shits and giggles. She got her finger sized, which he noted, and she gazed at a particular ring for a good two minutes, a twinkle in her eye that was unmistakable. He knew that was the one, just as he knows that she is the one.

He bought it two weeks later, and since then, it’s been in his pocket, rolling around in there for months now. He’s been close a few times already, grazing the box with his fingers, ready to whip it out during an especially romantic moment. Still, it never felt right.

That is, until today.

They’re both on their lunch breaks, walking off their meal at a nearby park, fingers interlaced seamlessly. This has become routine for them, something they’ve become used to. But every time, he craves it more and more. The intimacy of it. The normalcy of it. He’s getting accustomed to feeling human, and not solely a devil hunting machine. And it’s all thanks to her.

It’s been two years now, living together in domestic bliss, practically inseparable, aside from their day jobs. He’d carry her around in his pocket if he could, or he’d shrink himself down to be in hers. Either way, he wishes they were always with each other.

He’s become a man dependent on a woman. If you’d ask him three years ago if he’d ever become like this, he’d scoff and deny it. Now, he doesn’t bat an eye to admit it. He’s fucking needy, and unashamed about it.

They are by no means perfect. A relationship without flaws doesn’t exist in the real world. They argue, as regular couples do, but never going to bed angry. No matter who’s right or wrong, they both listen to each other and talk it out. What he loves about her is that she’s neither a dream nor a fantasy; she’s real. Perfectly imperfect, just as he is. He never has to worry about waking up and finding out it was his imagination all along. He knows she exists by the way her body feels around him, the warmth of skin against his, the lingering scent of her shampoo on the pillows and sheets. Bits and pieces of her scattered through their apartment, mixed with traces of him, combining into a beautiful, cohesive mess.

Kishibe never considered himself a sentimental person, not until her. Now, everything has meaning. Nothing is too little or insignificant to cherish. Movie stubs, blurry polaroid pictures, a Dirty Thirty! sash and sparkly tiara still hanging on the corner of the vanity. It’s reminders that their time together has never been wasted, especially when life can be cut short in any moment.

They find a park bench to sit at, watching soft, pink petals float lazily through the breeze. She rests her head on his shoulder, observing all the blossoms falling from the trees. “I wish we could stay like this forever. I don’t want to go back to work.”

He squeezes her hand, hoping his palms aren’t sweating. “Me too.” It’s rare for Kishibe to be nervous, but for some reason, he is. In his pocket, he feels for the vechalvet box, housing the ring. Second guessing himself if this is really right.

“Let’s run away. Quit our jobs and live off the grid,” she teases. It’s not the first time she’s joked about it. They often do, wishing they could neglect the responsibilities of the real world to indulge in each other endlessly.

“Why don’t we get married first. Then we’ll plan our escape.”

“We’re practically married, aren’t we?” She nuzzles her cheek against him. “I already consider you my husband.”

He swallows hard, adrenaline coursing this his veins. The moment finally here. “Let’s make it official then.”

It’s a Wednesday afternoon, as mundane as the last, when Kishibe asks her to marry him. It becomes the most special day of his life because she says yes.

--------------------

End Notes: Thank you all for reading this Kishibe fic! I hope you enjoyed reading just as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)

Taglist: one of my fave people on here @liliorsstuff-blog! thank you for always showing me love and supporting me, love you! 💜

#kishibe #kishibe csm #chainsaw man #kishibe smut #kishibe x reader #kishibe x you #kishibe x y/n #chainsaw man smut #csm smut #csm kishibe #kishibe brainrot #chainsaw man kishibe #dirty thirty #primetime

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readerlovr · 5 months

Text

For Richer or for Poorer

Pt. 2

Pt.1

This past week has been the hardest I have ever worked. Growing up seeing my dad and brothers work, I always knew was difficult, but doing it yourself is on another level. So I can only imagine what the boss feels. It’s Friday so luckily it’s the last day of the week for us.

Although Mr. Beresford has two meetings today which I have to attend. As I am organizing my planner for next week, I get an email. It’s from one of the companies we have a meeting with saying they can no longer meet at 3, and can only meet after 5. I would normally look skeptical because the normal work day ends at 5, but Mr. Beresford stays in his office long after I leave for the day. Before I send the company a confirmation, I check Mr. Beresford’s agenda and I see that he has a free period between 5:30 and 7. So I gather my notepad and walk my way to Mr. Beresford’s office. Once I’m there, I knock, then crack the door.

“Mr. Beresford, your 3 o’clock rescheduled for a later appointment, so I put you down for 6.”

“Thank you, Ms. Y/l/n.”

I close the door as I go back to my office, and send the company the confirmation for 6. They respond swiftly saying that they will be here at 6. I mentally prepare myself for a long day after the normal work hours.

I wonder if Rachel has any tips on my note taking, so I decide to speed dial 5.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Rachel I was wondering if you have any tips on how to take notes for the meeting. I have been taking notes this past week but Mr. Beresford didn’t seem to need them. But because there is two meetings today, he might need them to recollect the specifics the different meetings.”

“Yeah of course.” She gives me the spill of how she used to take notes, but she says Mr. Beresford did not like the way she took notes, because she wrote it in her own understanding instead of his.

“Okay, because we have another meeting after the one that starts in 15 minutes. And it’s after 5 o’clock, so I definitely need to take notes to the best of my ability. Or his I guess.”

“Get used to that.” She says with a sigh.

“What taking notes? Or staying after 5?”

“Well, both actually.”

“I have to stay after 5, everyday with him?”

“Well, yes. Haven’t you been doing that so far?”

“No, I have been leaving around 5:30.”

“Y/n, no. The assistant stays with the boss until he tells you to leave.”

My father has had assistants but he never kept one long enough for me to see how they were supposed to behave.

“Oh no. Why didn’t he tell me?”

“I don’t know, he probably thought you’d just know given your father has a business.”

“My father did everything on his own.” I say curtly. I hate discussing my family and their success, the reason why I left is to start my own. So when someone brings them up, I try to be tight lipped about them.

“Also, it wasn’t in the job description.”

“It’s not, but it’s commonly preferred.”

I think for a bit. I feel bad that I possibly left Mr. Beresford to do everything alone. I never suspected I was doing anything wrong. Every morning when I entered after giving Mr. Beresford his coffee and breakfast, notes he took from the previous night was sat on my desk.

I look over at the time and see it’s 5 till the meeting.

“Hey Rachel I have to go.”

“Okay, talk to you later.” She says before promptly hanging up.

I grab my notepad and get up to walk down to the conference room. When I get there I notice Mr. Beresford and a couple of our staff is already seated. I quickly take the seat on Mr. Beresford’s left. Once I sit, he looks up from his laptop and smile.

“Mr. Beresford.” I say greeting him.

“Ms. Y/l/n.”

I look around at everyone else engaging in their own conversations. I scoot a bit forward closer to Mr. Beresford.

“Why didn’t you tell me I was supposed to stay after with you everyday?”

“I supposed you knew. And if not you’d figure it out eventually. Plus I’ve been used to-“ he pauses and looks back down at his computer, “working alone.”

Just as I about to ask what he meant the company we are meeting with walked in. Mr. Beresford stood up, which caused me to follow suit. We all greeted each other by shaking hands.

Once everyone was aquatinted and seated, Mr. Beresford walks to the other end of the table with no chair.

“Shall we get started?”

_________________________

I tried to take notes most accurate to Mr. Beresford’s. Mimicking his note taking style from the one he leaves on my desk every night. Based on the meeting details, I could give him the notes at the end of the day so I have enough time to tweak it if I see something unfitting.

It’s now 30 minutes until the 6:00 meeting. We had lunch at 3 since the meeting was pushed back. Although, I like to work better with a snack so I decide to go downstairs to the donut shop to get a donut and a coffee. After I gathered my purse, I knocked on Mr. Beresford’s door.

“Mr. Beresford, I’m going downstairs to get a donut, do you want anything?”

He doesn’t respond. After a minute of waiting, I knock on his door again, then open the door and peek in.

“Mr. Beresford?”

He looks up at me from his computer with a stoic look.

“No thank you. I am not supposed to be eating that stuff.”

I notice he seems a bit down so I don’t push him on it.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

I am back within 10 minutes. I finish my coffee before I make it back to my office. As I’m walking back I contemplate either going to my office or Mr. Beresford’s. I decide on Mr. Beresford’s office of course. I knock on the door once again. He doesn’t respond like normally but I decide to turn the knob anyway. As I come in the room uninvited, he looks at me confused.

With my donut in hand I decide to sit in a seat in front of him.

“Hi.” I say before taking a bite of my donut.

“Hi?” He says confused. He continues to look at me confused as of to say, why are you here.

“What?” I question his confused look.

He shakes his head. “Normally people don’t just come in my office and sit down. Just to say hi.”

“Well I’m not normal people. I’m your assistant so I can do that.” I say with a smile.

He smirks a bit before changing his face to serious.

“Look. I know I met you before the job interview. And I gave you a well deserved compliment based on your looks, but our relationship needs to be strictly professional.”

What he said caught me off guard. I wasn’t trying to come onto him. Even though he is insanely good looking. I just wanted to start a conversation given he was so busy this whole week.

“Oh.” I say as I nod and start to get up to leave.

“But-“ he says as he sees me get up. “You can stay. At least until the meeting starts. We can walk down together.”

“Okay.” I say with a small smile. I don’t want to say the wrong thing because I don’t want him to think I am trying to build a relationship that’s not professional.

“So, why don’t you eat donuts? Is it your diet?”

He once again looks down at his computer. I know he was down earlier but I thought he was okay now. Before I was able to apologize for prying he answers.

“Yeah, it’s my diet. I actually haven’t had a donut in 5 years.”

“Really?”

He nods and looks up at me from his computer. I give him a cunning smile and hold up my donut.

“You want a bite?”

“No, I’m okay.” He says chuckling.

“Come on. It’s a bite. What is a bite gonna do?”

He looks at me for a couple seconds before he lightly nods. He motions his fingers for me to bring the donut closer. I stand up to bring it close enough for him to take but instead he bites it straight off the donut. My heart skips a beat with his held eye contact on me. As he pulls away I have to mentally tell myself to act normal. I sit back down trying to shake that hot memory out of my head. I look up to him and he’s still chewing. I wait a couple seconds after he swallows it and I’m met with silence.

“Well?”

He starts smiling. Like a real smile, not a smirk.

“That was really good.”

“See I told you. You just have to trust your smart assistant sometimes.”

He smirks and huffs out a laugh. I check my watch and realize it’s seven till 6.

“Oh, we have to go.”

I stand up and he follows after me down the hall. It’s just us when we enter the conference room.

“Where is everybody?”

“Well the staff isn’t required to stay after 5, so we’re just waiting on the company that we’re meeting with.”

We continue to wait for exactly 7 minutes before Mr. Beresford stands up.

“Where are you going?”

“They’re late. I’m leaving.”

“Wha- leaving? Just like that?”

“Yes, just like that.”

As he moves to walk out the conference room door, the company walks in the door.

“Shall we get this over with?” The man who comes in first says, throwing his coat at the woman who came in after him.

Mr. Beresford looks back at me before turning to the man who spoke.

“Mr. Johnson, we are not going further with this merger.”

“Why not? I put in a lot of money for this deal.” The man named Mr. Johnson says.

“You can keep your deal, and you can keep your money. I’m all about creating jobs for people. I need my partners to be punctual as well as considerate. Because if not, I know you will treat your employees the same way. And so far from what I’ve seen,” he gestures to the woman behind him, “you are not very considerate to your employees.”

I don’t know why, but that whole scene made me have a heartbeat in my core. My mouth is agape. I have never seen anyone respectfully decline a disrespectful person regardless of their money.

“Come on, Ms. Y/l/n.”

I immediately jump up to stand beside him. He puts his hand on my back as he guides me out of the room.

“You can see yourself out.” He says as we past them out the door. Just before we leave, I give a sympathetic look to the woman.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, people like that really get under my skin.”

“Don’t apologize. You did the right thing.”

He looks down at his feet as we continue walking together.

“Could you… come back to my office with me. I like the company.” He asks seemingly nervously. I smile up at him before nodding.

“Sure let me just get the rest of my things.” We reach my office door and he goes inside of his. I gather my purse and previous notes. I stay in my office a bit longer than suspected, checking and responded to thank you emails on Mr. Beresford’s behalf. I’m finished about 10 minutes later and I start to walk to Mr. Beresford’s office. I knock on the door, and there wasn’t an answer like usual.

“Mr. Beresford, it’s me.” Still no answer.

I open the door expecting him to look up at me from his computer, but he wasn’t there. I know he didn’t walk out of his office because I would’ve saw given that my office is right next to his corner office.

“Mr. Beresford?” I ask looking around the office. I notice that his chair is a bit pushed back than normal. I walk over to his chair to see why and immediately my heart drops. He is passed out on the floor behind his desk.

“Oh, shit! Mr. Beresford!” I kneel down to feel his forehead I don’t feel it being warm. I fumble for my purse to grab my cell to call 911.

I tell dispatch what happened and what building and floor were on. They had an ambulance out here in minutes once they found out it was Clay Beresford. When the officers get here, I have Mr. Beresford’s head in my lap so it wouldn’t be on the hard ground. They remove him off of me and put him on a stretcher.

“Be careful with him. I don’t know what happened.” I say with a shaky voice.

One of the officers that is not carrying him turns to me.

“Ma’am, calm down. We know how to deal with a heart transplant patient.”

Once he says that I am stunned.

“A what?”

“4 years ago Clayton Beresford, had a heart transplant from his mother after the whole doctor team tried to murder him. It was on the news for weeks.” He looks at me like the information he gave me was so obvious and everyone else knew about it.

“Wha-“ I can’t even process what he just said. As his assistant why wasn’t I notified of his condition. 10 million questions run in my head but I realize as his assistant I should be with him also. I find the stamina to get up on my shaky legs and follow them to the elevator. Once we get outside I climb in the ambulance after they put Mr. Beresford in it. I stare at Mr. Beresford seemingly lifeless body, and it scares the shit out of me. I grab his hand and hope everything is okay.

Once we get to the hospital, he gets put on an IV. And i have to wait in the waiting room while they check to see what’s wrong with him. I rock in my chair nervously wondering what I’m going to do if he doesn’t make it out of this. He was just starting to become my friend even with him saying he wanted a strictly professional relationship. As I am thinking to myself as Beresford was called. I stood up and walked to the doctor.

“How is he?”

“Mr. Beresford is doing just fine.”

I let out a long relieved sigh.

“He had a small relapse due to his heart transplant.”

“Do you know what caused it?”

“We can’t be sure. With heart transplants, this could be caused by anything. Did he recently have any changes of diet, or exercise?”

I shake my head no, trying to think. Then suddenly it clicks.

“I gave him a bite of my donut. Do you think that what caused this?” I say devastated. I can’t bear a man’s life almost ending because of me.

“I’m sorry, but that’s a very real possibility. It’s the most probable possibility given that everything was fine until tonight.”

I look around and cover my mouth, knowing that I almost killed Mr. Beresford.

“Can I see him?”

“Of course but he’s resting right now. It might be a little while before he wakes up.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

She puts her hand on my should in sympathy and walks me to his room. Once I go in I see him sleeping on the bed with 3 different tubes attached to him. I put my hand over my mouth as I sob looking at him. I did that. I walk over beside his bed and sit in the seat that was there. I grab his hand and wait for him to wake. As I wait, I dosed off to sleep still grabbing his hand.

__________________________

He starts stirring which wakes me up. I squeeze his hand tighter with purpose letting him know that I was here for him. He squeezed it back but his eyes are still closed.

“Mr. Beresford.” I whisper as I stand up to get closer to his face. He hums and opens his eyes. He looks around confused before his eyes land on me, shocked.

“What happened.” He says groggily.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shakes his head in confusion.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your heart?” I say before I full on sob right in front of my boss. “It was my fault, I’m so sorry.”

He looks at me confused still.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, take a breath.” He says and he grabs my other hand with his other hand. “What happened?”

“They say you had a relapse because of the donut I gave you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you to eat it.”

“Hey. Y/n, I am an adult. You didn’t push me to do anything. I ate it because I wanted to.”

I am too hysterical to realize that was his first time calling me by my first name.

“Do you want me to call anyone?”

He looks into my red, puffy eyes then looks forward.

“I don’t have anyone.” He says softly.

I don’t know what he means by that but he’s gone through enough so I don’t push him on it. It seems like I’m the only one going to be here from him tonight. I start to sit on the bed next to him slowly waiting for any signs of his uncomfortably. He nodded for me to continue to sit, still having both of our hands holding. I look him in the eyes and my eyes start to water again.

He wipes my tears with his fingers.

“Stop it. It wasn’t your fault.” He says as he tugs my hands so I can go closer to him. He pulls me into a hug, which causes me to have to lay on his chest. I carefully avoid the tubes attached to him, not trying to mess him up further.

“I’m going to be okay.”

We stay like this in silence for a couple of minutes.

“I thought you wanted to keep a professional relationship.” I joke through a sad voice.

“Screw that.”

______________________________

That sure took a turn. 😬

#clay beresford x reader #clay beresford #x black fem reader #x black reader #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen

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rpgchoices · 9 months

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Dark Urge fixed some of the problems I had with act 3

This post has SPOILERS. BIG SPOILERS for both Baldur's Gate 3 and Dark Urge. If you check my tag dark urge I previously wrote an act 1 + act 2 summary of what to expect from it, without any spoilers. Without spoilers, very briefly: expect to have a past you cannot control (of course), your character will say some messed up stuff, you can give in the urges or resist but there are at least two scenes you have no control over, you do get loot for giving in the urges, the story has more mystery and lore, act 3 is the culmination of Dark Urge story too and you can have a happy ending.

Now with SPOILERS

I will go over the acts and write down what extra content happens when you compare Dark Urge to Tav, with BIG SPOILERS. If you want to see why I think Dark Urge is so much better for the story, skip everything and go directly to act 3. A general big change is that as Dark Urge you automatically get the "Baldurian" dialogue because you are from Baldur's Gate.

Act 1: In act 1 there is little Dark Urge content but an introduction. I kind of wish the game had just gone with DU (Dark Urge) instead of Tav directly, to hide the secret better, but I also like Tav a lot and I don't always want to play as an ex-murderer. Still, if you roleplay well the idea is that DU has these violent urges and think they are caused by the tadpole. So you will have to ask your companions about it, and the suspicion remains for half of act 1, at least until you give in the first obligatory urge. The narration oftens tells you that DU wants blood and carnage, wants to feel life slipping away and, well, wants to murder, and you can give in these urges (ex. attack people, bite someone's toe off, kill Gale?? or at least cut his hands) or avoid these urges. Everything else is exactly the same, a part from the fact that DU has a REASON for being on the Nautilus. While Tav is just one of the random people the Nautilus has taken, DU is the one who was put there on purpose.

There are two big events in act 1 and some smaller ones. You can kill a squirrel, but it did not trigger for me, so I don't think it is an obligatory event, but you will kill a bard. Alfira will come to your camp after you sleep a n amount of nights, and she will want to join your party. This happens even if you had not met Alfira in the game. During the night DU will brutally kill her and at this point you can hide the body, or confess your crimes, up to you how open with them. I always chose the option to confess. If you confess immediately you will have a group chat with your party and you can defend yourself (ex. I don't know how it happened but I must have been the one who killed her), or you can wash the blood and then volunteer the information the next morning when the body is found. There is actually a metagaming way to save Alfira… when you get the night scene, reload to the save before, go to Alfira, use the incapacitate instead of the killing option (in actions) and knock her out. Because she is knocked out, the next night a new bard NPC will come to your camp and will be murdered, but not Alfira.

After the murder you will meet the butler. It is immediately clear this is a magical being, and he knows you. He knows DU likes to kill, and he is surprised if DU refuses to give in the urges or even feels guilty for what he had done. You will also get an amazing cloak that turns a character invisible after a kill (it is great for Astarion's sneak attacks).

For the rest of act 1 there is little more content. You can talk minimally with your party about what happened or your urges, but that is it.

ACT 2: In the underdark and during the mountain pass there is no real content, but stuff starts happening at Moonrise Tower. You will meet characters who suddenly knows who you are. They are pretty cryptic about it, but they talk to you as if you were one of them who suddenly disappeared. It really feels like coming, well, almost home. Ketheric remembers you, even the jailer remembers you. There is also a cat in Moonrise Tower who is scared of you and if you talk with them DU WILL kill the cat, so be mindful to avoid talking with cats in the Tower. The skeleton dog from Ketheric room? He also remembers you and your smell.

When you put your hand in the cracks of the wall and hear the brain you will also get new and different dialogue.

After you meet Isobel, you will see your butler again and he tells you that to have a real gif this time you will have to kill Isobel. The quest will be there but you do not need to complete it. If you do not complete it, the butler will come back at night after the Moonrise Tower fight. This is where he asks you to kill your lover (in my case it was Astarion). He tries to convince you and if you say no, this is also where you find out that you cannot really control the urge - you will have to pass a wisdom check to take enough control to wake up your lover and tell them what is happening. At this point, they will tie you up because you are not in control anymore. You can pass 3 wisdom checks to try and thank them, or you can give in the urge but it does not look like there is any difference here but dialogue. The next morning you will have an extra talk with your lover and the party as well.

At this point it looks like the butler abandoned you because you failed your Dark Urge quest.

Another small thing, while under Moonrise Tower you can explore a bit and you will find one of the pod that smells like your blood and other small traces and hints to the fact that someone wanted to get rid of you and that is why you ended up on the nautilus.

Act 3: Act 3 is where most of the stuff gets resolved and things really come together. Orin targets you because you are family, you are her brother. She hates you because you were the Bhaal chosen one. My favourite part is that this really explains why the Chosen three's plan is failing. You were supposed to be Bhaal's chosen, not Orin. Multiple characters (Gortash and Sarevok) comments on how you were such a better Chosen because Orin is fickle, that is why she turns against Gortash. Gortash and Orin against each other always confused me during my Tav game, mainly because it felt so unexplained - like, they were so close to their goal, why is everything crumbling? Because she was never supposed to assume that role. She grew jealous of DU, chosen of Bhaal, and got rid of him by inserting the tadpole in his brain and discarding him.

When you talk with Gortash you also gets even more insight. It is clear that Gortash likes you, that is why is asking for an alliance. Not to a random adventurer called Tav, but to his old ally and friend. You and Gortash basically devised the whole plan, YOU took the crown, you were a fundamental part of it. And suddenly you stopping it (or taking control of the brain) for me had so much more meaning. While playing Tav I always wondered why is Tav even in charge, but when I played DU it really seemed like this was THEIR mess to fix. The confrontation at the temple of Bhaal is the end of the DU storyline which also wraps up why Withers was even with you.

You confront Orin and after you kill her you will meet your father Bhaal, who will ask you to become his chosen again. You can agree, and then at the end you will be able to claim the brain in Bhaal's name. But if you refuse, and give in the guilt for having murdered so many people (before your amnesia), Bhaal will take back his blood and leave you dead on the ground. At this point Withers will come in (and we know Withers is Jergal, the god of death before the Three) and will revive you. You will be born anew, your past is lost because the urge in you had been taken away but the memories with it. You can ask him about those memories too and he says that he can show you the names of your victims if you so desire. You are also a blank slate, a new person born from what you have learnt in your journey instead of your past. So yeah, you can have a good hopeful ending.

More importantly, this fell so well in the themes of BG3 especially the ones of being born again, changing and gods fighting for their chosen. Like Selune and Shar were fighting for Shadowheart, your character was also in the middle of a play of gods. Given Withers was with you since the start, it really feels like he was aiding you not at random, but because you were an escaped chosen one who could be stolen from Bhaal. And being born again and getting rid of your master/tormentor/powerful god/dictator fits so well. ALL your origin companions are in a certain measure subjected to absence of freedom or imbalance of power.

(Also before the Bhaal mission, but after the lover's personal quest you will have the option to break up with them and worry about the danger of killing them, which gives you an extra cute scene).

After the Bhaal mission there is no more content for DU and everything else seemed the same!

#dark urge #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers

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rc-writes · 10 months

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𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 | 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢

pairings: benny weir x reader

warnings: one curse word i believe, not much of benny actually in it sorry

part one

a/n: well look who wrote benny hcs not at 1am for once lol (finished this before 10pm) anyways, these hcs are more of you (the reader) getting your turn to have your realization moment. which because of that benny isn’t actually in this all too much. i hope you all enjoy it anyway!!

you had called benny the day after you were let out of the hospital and asked if he wanted to hang out

he quickly said that his grandma was making him clean the whole house so he couldn’t come over

and then quickly hung up

this was very strange because 1. he didn’t go on a rant about how much he did not want to clean 2. he wasn’t even allowed to do more than dusting anymore

last time he tried to spell the house clean and somehow the bathroom was full of chickens

and to add to the strangeness you spotted benny with ethan in ethan’s backyard later in the day

you definitely weren’t spying

another weird event happened when the school week began

usually you and benny would sit next to each other in english but on monday morning he was sitting on the other side of the room

when you questioned him he was quick to say that the teacher moved him for some reason

on any other day you’d just brush it off because teacher’s like to move kids for no reason sometimes

but since benny was acting weird you decided to ask the teacher after class and it turns out benny was the one to ask to move

now you were more confused as ever

not only has benny avoided you twice, but he had lied to you twice

a couple different thoughts ran threw your head at once

maybe he’s trying to distance himself so it doesn’t hurt him as much if you were to get hurt again?

does he still feel terrible that he couldn't prevent you from getting hurt and thinks you blame him?

or worse, is he upset that you did something wrong and by getting yourself hurt someone else could also have gotten hurt?

you know that the last option would be completely out of character for benny but you couldn’t let the thought fully leave

this was when you decided to question ethan again

and once again he pretended like nothing odd was happening

even after half of an hour of nonstop questioning he would fess up

you then decided to just go ask benny himself

once you got to the weir household you were met with a “sick” benny who didn’t have time to talk because he “didn’t want you to get sick”

you might have believed him if it wasn’t for the fact that before you knocked on ethan’s bedroom door earlier you heard them both video chatting while playing a video game

and benny did not sound at all sick at the time

but you decided to just drop the matter and sulk back home

maybe this weird thing would be over in a few days?

maybe there was a completely reasonable reason as to why one best friend was ignoring you and another was covering for them?

unfortunately for you it was a week later at this point and nothing had changed

you’re wrist being almost completely healed was the only thing you seemed to change

safe to say you were upset

so here you lay on your bed watching the ceiling fan go round and round

you missed your best friend

you missed benny

the benny who would have been knocking on your door with a box full of games before you even finished saying you were bored over the phone

the benny who you had known to be an amazing friend since you met him back in middle school

hell you couldn’t even remember the last time it had been this long since you had a full conversation with him

what would you even do if you didn’t have him in your life??

it was at this moment, with this thought, was the exact moment a bomb had gone off in your head

“that can’t be true”

“what a crazy thought that was”

“pfft there’s no way that was a true thought”

“ha ha real funny”

“that doesn’t even make any sense”

“ha ha right?”

“right??”

there was no possible way you actually had feelings for your best friend, right?

but what if you did?

no that’s crazy, anyone would be upset if their best friend had suddenly stopped talking to them

but why did it feel like you missed more than just a best friend?

now as any person with more one than one good friend you had to go tell ethan about this whole mess of a situation you just got in

well after you spent a few hours spiraling

ethan being the good friend he was decided to not reveal benny’s similar secret to you

which he did get very close to just telling you, but he then remembered benny swore he’d “accidentally” say the wrong spell too close to him if he did and decided against it

cue ethan being just so done with life because now he has to deal with the both of y’all being oblivious idiots

#mbav #mbav headcanons #benny weir #benny weir headcanons #benny weir imagine #benny weir x reader #my babysitters a vampire #my babysitters a vampire imagine #my babysitters a vampire headcanons #my babysitters a vampire x reader #mbav x reader

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cuddlepilefics · 2 months

Note

Hi, it's me who wrote salembutnotthecat about writing a sickfic for The Rose fandom. So, my prompt is: Woosung getting carsick when going home after working the whole day recording a song in the studio. He decided to take a taxi to go home (Inspired by the actual situation when he got drank, took a taxi and had to stop it as soon as arriving on the Hannam Bridge. He got off and threw up everywhere.) but this time he gets sick not because of drinking but maybe he ate something wrong or got a fever. He gets too exhausted to drive so he takes a taxi instead... I just have this idea but you can alter the details in any way that is comfortable for you to write! If you haven't listened to The Rose yet, please give them a listen. They're amazing! Thank you so much. :)

Hannam Bridge

Prompts: Motion sick + professionalism failure + visibly ill + totally drained @monthofsick

TW: emeto, real person fiction

I have listened to The Rose and so far, my favorite song is "Sorry", "Red" following close on #2

Fandom: The Rose

Sickie: Woosung

No one’s POV.:

Woosung had already been exhausted when his alarm went off that morning. It felt like he hadn’t slept a wink but he knew that he had a full day ahead of him and couldn’t afford to roll over once more. His head throbbed when he set up, making him wince. Maybe a nice, hot morning coffee would ease his headache though it might not be the best idea to have one, considering he had to record a new song today. Woosung didn’t really feel hungry for breakfast, so he only got himself a cup of coffee, sleepily sipping the hot drink as he read over the lyrics on his phone. Before heading out, he knocked back a painkiller to soothe his headache, knowing he wasn’t supposed to take it on an empty stomach but he couldn’t bring himself to eat anything.

It was a decision, Woosung soon came to regret. His stomach was in knots but at least, the headache had improved a little. He’d spent the next few hours practicing the song and record it after lunch, so he could still hope his stomach would settle down till then because right now, there was no way the microphone wouldn’t pick up the rumbles. The other members all had their individual schedules today, which was usually fine but right now, Woosung wished he wouldn’t be alone but that couldn’t be helped. At least, Dojoon had texted, asking if they wanted to grab lunch together, since they both had their breaks scheduled at the same time. Woosung couldn’t imagine forcing any food into his stomach but maybe that was exactly what he needed to do to help it settle if the problem was coffee and medicine on an empty stomach.

By the time lunchtime rolled around, Woosung felt defeated. He didn’t like the way his voice sounded on the new song and didn’t know how he was going to record it later but decided that was a problem for his future-self to figure out. Dojoon frowned when the other plopped into the seat opposite him. “You good?”, he asked the leader, who tiredly rested his aching head in his hands. Woosung nodded but admitted: “Tired as hell and I have a headache.” – “Mhm, you’re pretty pale”, Dojoon commented. In his opinion, his friend looked visibly sick but he didn’t want to call him out. “Drank some coffee and had some pain meds this morning on an empty stomach, so it’s been a little unsettled all morning”, the older sighed, his stomach growling as if in confirmation, “I’ll just order some plain rice to calm it down and repent for my coffee-sin.” That made Dojoon laugh and although he felt so unwell, Woosung was glad he had gone out for lunch.

The rice had done little to settled the singer’s stomach, sitting heavily as he made his way to the studio. After getting set up, Woosung put on his headphones and winced at the pressure they applied on his head. Had the booth always been this stuffy? No matter how uncomfortable it was, he reminded himself to act professional and tried his hardest to do well as they started to record but it was hard. Every inhalation threatened to make his stomach cramp up and with his shallow breathing, his voice came out flat and forced. “Stop straining, your voice sounds forced”, came the producers voice over the speaker. Woosung nodded and gave a thumbs-up to show he had understood the instructions. That didn’t mean he’d manage to change anything about it though.

Somehow, today didn’t seem to be his day, Woosung acknowledged when the producer asked what was up because he usually did so much better. They agreed to take a five minute break during which he sipped some water and tried to quieten his racing mind screaming at him to be more professional. His hands trembled when he got behind the mic once again, the pressure mounting to do better. Woosung started to sweat but he didn’t know whether it was the stress or the lack of ventilation in the recording booth, that was already making him feel a little lightheaded.

Hours later, Woosung was finally done. No, he wasn’t satisfied at all with the way it had turned out but his throat hurt and his head throbbed, so he knew it wouldn’t get any better if they kept at it longer. Besides, he felt guilty for how long he was keeping the producer just because he couldn’t get his lines right. He had completely failed at being professional. The producer didn’t seem to be all that upset though, far more understanding than Woosung would’ve expected. While he packed up his belongings, the other even went to get him some tea from the break room, telling him to get home safely.

Too tired to drive himself home, Woosung called for a taxi and sat outside, sipping his tea. Getting some fresh air seemed to help temporarily and he weakly collapsed into the backseat, voice scratchy as he told the driver the address. If Woosung had felt like the recording booth had been stuffy, the car was a wholly different level. Within only a couple of minutes, he was sweating buckets, his stomach churning with every turn of the road. Of course, getting carsick would be the cherry on top of his already shitty day. Dreading the weird, fluttery feeling in his stomach, Woosung clutched his empty paper cup. He hoped he’d make it home without getting sick to his stomach, his throat already sore from singing all day.

They had just pulled onto Hannam bridge when Woosung’s stomach took a turn for the worse and he begged the driver to pull over, already gagging over the paper cup in his hand. For a moment, he got caught in his seatbelt as he tried to get out of the taxi but managed to free himself before pitching forward, the tea he had just finished splattering onto the pavement. Stumbling to the side of the bridge, Woosung clutched the railing and tried to brace himself against the dizziness. The next heave had him bent at the waist, acid burning his throat. His heart was racing as he retched up another bitter wave and struggled to inhale afterwards, his stomach immediately lurching again.

Woosung was glad that his hood had slipped forward over the upper half of his face when he had first bent over. Hopefully it’d conceal his identity because the thought of fans recognizing and watching him in such a pitiful state was enough to make his stomach turn. On the list of things he had hoped to never have to experience, getting sick in public was pretty far up. At least, it was already dark, so he could convince himself of his anonymity. That was the only comfort he found as his throat strained with dry heaves, body too exhausted to get anything else up.

Even when the heaves slowly tapered off, Woosung couldn’t bring himself to let go of the hand rail, his head spinning as his heart kept beating out of his chest. It was hard to imagine getting back into the stuffy taxi but he knew he didn’t really have a choice, since he didn’t want to waste the driver’s time and also because he truly wanted to curl up in his bed and be miserable in the privacy of his room. Staggering back to the taxi, Woosung gulped and forced in a shaky breath.

When he plopped back into his seat, he found a plastic bag and a bottle of water there, the driver sympathetically offering him a mint, which he gladly accepted, the taste on his tongue keeping the nausea at an all time high. Woosung dropped his head in his hands, totally drained. He could feel his blood pulsing in his head and it was only now, that he noticed how his cheeks had become damp with tears. His flushed cheeks felt hot against his hands and by now, he was pretty certain that he was running a temperature. There was no way his day could go so wrong if he wasn’t sick.

Woosung didn’t have the energy to check though, already glad that he managed to drag himself from the taxi to the safety of his own bathroom, where he promptly found himself retching up a mouthful of bile from the exertion of having to get upstairs. Merely rinsing his mouth and using some mouthwash, Woosung splashed some cold water on his feverishly flushed skin before stumbling to his room and crashing on his bed. In his haze, he only just remembered typing a message to their manager. The words barely coherent and with lots of typos, it was obvious how miserable he felt, already falling asleep with his phone in his hand as soon as he had hit sent.

#fanfic #fanfiction #sickfic #sick #emeto #tw emeto #tw rpf #novemetober #the rose

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sugurus-fave-monkey · 4 months

Text

Teaser pt 2

(Still a WIP but I’ve hit a block and wanna take my time with the actual smut)

So I wrote a little more and I’m just going to post what I’ve got going on for now. This has a decent amount of spice tho. Part two here

TW: MDNI/ 18+, Satoru Gojo x Suguru Geto, no actual sex acts yet but mentions penis’, angst, PTSD, death mentioned, kissing, neediness, blood mentioned (taste), bro I just want them to be together, Gege when I catch you, not edited, not proofread, hoping to finish it over the weekend.

NSFW under the cut

The night air was cold on his skin as Suguru Geto leaned out his dorm window, trying to find enjoyment in the form of a cigarette. As he exhaled, his left hand came to rub at his eyes, the bags beneath them seemingly a part of him, just like his skin. Just when did everything go wrong? How much more of this could he take? After pitching away the rest of his cigarette, he adjusts the towel on his waist, and closes the window. He sits down on his bed, and runs his fingers through his still damp hair.

Maybe he’s being punished? He should have been more aware of his surroundings after him and Satoru were ambushed. Perhaps he shouldn’t have even offered that girl a life, maybe had he not said anything, he wouldn’t have watched her die. That’s all he sees whenever he closes his eyes, her, and that man, the smug look on his face. When he manages to sleep, he is plagued by nightmares, the girl, screaming at him, Satoru’s body, broken and lifeless, and that man, Toji Fushiguru, no, not a man, what had he called himself? A monkey. The only time Suguru had felt real fear in his life, was caused by none other than a filthy fucking monkey.

He felt like the higher ups were trying to isolate him. Satoru, the only person he felt true friendship with was always being sent on solo missions, while Geto was left to exorcise and consume the curses. The curses, the only form of company he had. Sometimes he would let one out, late at night, alone in his room, just to feel the presence of something. He didn’t know how to feel, he didn’t even know if he could feel anymore, he had spent so long choking back silent tears. His emotions got the best of him at first, and he turned the overwhelming sadness, the emptiness into rage, and when that didn’t help he discarded those emotions, in fact he discarded all emotions.

A soft knock on the door startled him, and he had to ground himself back to reality. He check the alarm clock on his nightstand and saw that it read 3:17 a.m. He sighed and decided to ignore the door, which only resulting in whomever was there knocking louder.

“Yo! Suguru! I know you’re in there, let me in.” Of course.

Suguru rolled his eyes before responding, “I’m trying to sleep Satoru; we can talk in the morning.”

“Nah, I can tell that you’re awake, lemme in, it’s important.” Satoru demanded. “Besides if you don’t I’ll just stay here and pound on your door all night and wake everyone else up.”

Geto stood up, and crossed the room to the door, before swinging it open. “What do you need?”

Satoru threw up his hands and smirked. “You gonna let me in or?”

Geto moved out of the way,, and Satoru walked in, kicking his shoes off before perching himself on the chair at the desk. He quickly scanned his best friend, noting his lack of clothing, and dripping hair.

“Trying to sleep my ass.” Gojo scoffs. “Anyways, we’ve go a mission together, there’s this village, and apparently there’s been some weird activity going on, so I’m tagging along with you.”

Geto turned his head towards Gojo and raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by tagging along?”

“Well, I kinda overheard Yaga talking about assigning you that mission solo, and I wanted to come with, since it’s been a while since we’ve had any missions together…” Gojo trailed off.

Geto could instantly tell he was lying, and glared at him.

“Ok, maybe they actually asked me to go with you, but either way! We get to work together again!” Gojo explained.

“So they think I’m incapable of handling a mission solo, and you need to be there?” Geto questioned.

“Suguru… they think you’re a liability, and as much as I hate the higher ups, and disagree with that, I just-“

“So in case something goes wrong, in case something inside me snaps, they want you to be there to put me down?!” Geto had heard enough, the anger he thought he buried rising to the surface.

“N-no,” Gojo stammered, while he stood up, closing the distance between them, his cool demeanour lost. “I don’t know what it is, they just need someone to keep an eye on you. You’ve been off Suguru, and don’t give me that bullshit about a summer cold, something’s going on with you.”

“Tch. I’m fine Satoru” Geto spoke. “I don’t need-“

Before Geto could finish speaking Satoru’s lips were on his own, his eyes widening. He had thought of doing this many times, but was never quite sure how to go about it. Geto parted his lips, allowing Gojo’s tongue to snake into his mouth, swirling his own tongue with Gojo’s. It was as though every wall he had built came crashing down at that moment, Geto wrapped his arms around Gojo, pulling him into an embrace, while Gojo runs his fingers through Geto’s hair.

When they pull away for a brief moment, Geto swears he can feel his heart pounding in his chest. He brings a hand to Satoru’s cheek, cradling it, before pulling him back into the kiss. He’s rough, taking charge this time, biting on Gojo’s lower lip, causing the white haired man to inhale sharply. Geto forces his tongue into Gojo’s mouth and groans when Gojo sucks on his tongue. Geto kisses him passionately, lustfully, hungrily, almost as though he wishes to consume him.

Geto lowers Gojo to the bed, using one hand to support himself, and he trails kisses over Gojo’s neck, feeling himself grow erect. Gojo can’t help but squirm under him, wrapping his legs around Geto’s waist. Geto trails his fingers under Gojo’s shirt, feeling his muscles contract, one finger brushing over a nipple, before his thumb joined, pinching it. Kissing was no longer enough, Geto needed to taste him, and so he sunk his teeth into his neck, and began to suck on the tender skin, relishing the taste of copper as Gojo’s skin began to bruise. He stopped for a moment, to pull Gojo’s shirt off, and continued tasting the other man. His lips found their way to Gojo’s nipple, and he started licking at the bud, smirking when Gojo whined and rutted his hips up.

Gojo could feel himself coming undone, and he hadn’t even touched Geto yet, in fact he wasn’t planning any of this at all, the kiss was an impulse he had been feeling for a while, and finally acted on. But now he longed to feel his best friend inside of him, he was usually the one to take charge, and control the situation, but he wanted nothing else but to be ruined by Geto. Gojo’s aching cock twitched at the thought of being fucked by Geto, and as he watched the man’s head going lower and lower on his body, he didn’t know how much he could take. As Geto effortlessly undid his belt, and lowered his pants, leaving only his boxers, Gojo grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him up. Geto looked questioningly at him.

“I want you to mark me.” Gojo breathed.

Geto cocked an eyebrow before trailing his tongue upwards, over his abs, and to his pecs. As Geto bit down again, Gojo groaned, he fist clenching around Geto’s hair. Gojo watched as marks formed on his body, some bleeding, others just barely bruising. He used his hands to guide Geto’s head closer to his own, before Geto’s lips came crashing down, and Gojo used his tongue to probe Geto’s mouth. Tasting his own blood drove him mad, and he needed more, so much more.

#jjk geto #jjk smut #geto smut #geto suguru #jjk satoru #satosugu #satoru gojo #gojo x geto #geto x gojo #gojo smut #suguru geto #jjk gojo

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holdinbacksecrets · 2 years

Note

i second hannie soccer player bf au lol! <3

nearly there… here’s college jeonghan part 2. part 3 will finally feature ~soccer and get us one step closer to boyfriend >.< part 1

tw: mentions of blood

jeonghan saved you the seat beside him. it’s not something he’s ever done before; you’re usually early enough to slide into it without a second thought, but today is off. it’s easy for him to tell as you trudge into the lecture hall.

you rub your temple as soon as you’re seated, not realizing he removed his bag from the plastic just before you fell into it.

“rough morning?”

“you could say so.”

“does it have anything to do with our midterm paper?”

“is it kicking your ass too?”

“actually, i wrote it two weeks ago. our soccer schedule is complete marbles over the next couple weeks. it was easier to knock it out early.”

“complete marbles?”

“yeah, like bonkers or crazy. i don’t know, my sister says it, rubbed off on me.”

you smile, feeling fondness bloom. he hasn’t seen your smile since last friday when he noticed you in the stands at his game.

your intrigued hum is the only response he receives as the professor’s greeting quiets the room.

moments before class begins, jeonghan taps the edge of your desk, earning your attention swiftly. “let me know if you need a second pair of eyes.”

your laptop comes to life. its light coats your face and captures specks of amber in your eyes. “i thought you’re about to be busier than marbles?”

jeonghan bites his lip, and you realize how terribly you fumbled his words.

“writing a ten page paper and reading yours once it’s finished are two different things. i’ll text you my email.”

“thank you, jeonghan.”

your sleep deprivation serves as a darker cloud than the ones rolling past the window, pouring rain across your campus, darkening the pavement, and challenging the fountain on the north end as water threatens to spill over and flood a flowerbed.

jeonghan wants to say something else, tell you not to bother because he’ll send you a copy of his own notes, but that would be too much for one day— for one class.

he’s still figuring out what exactly is going on here because he knows about your roommate’s crush on seokmin, but is there another reason why you join her at every home game? is it more than friendly support?

he was hoping to see even the slightest glimpse of excitement from you this morning, whether it matched the handful of royal blue bows worn throughout the hall or be a shirt with your school’s name stitched into its cotton. his number on a jersey you can purchase at the bookstore was the best case scenario, but that would be marbles.

your next class is close to jeonghan’s. now that he’s switched to liberal arts, the two of you are seeing far more of each other.

“have you decided on a major yet?”

“not quite. i was thinking about anthropology, but my roommates gave me shit for that, asked what the hell i would do after graduation.”

“really? i didn’t take you as someone who bends so easily.”

“why’s that?”

your fingers wrap around the straps of your backpack, catching a loose thread on a hanging nail you hadn’t noticed in your morning rush.

“you seem so sure of yourself, so autonomous. our university has two hundred majors in the school of liberal arts, so i can’t say anthropology is without a doubt the right choice for you, but you like it. you like your red hair too right?”

“sure.”

“would you dye it back because your roommate said it looked like someone dipped you in gochujang?”

jeonghan’s lips spread into a smile, and you wonder if there’s a rainbow hanging above his head, if the clouds are parting.

“no, i wouldn’t.”

sunbeam.

“exactly.”

you reach the steps of Snow Hall, and jeonghan nods toward the stone building. “this is me.”

“and that’s me,” you reply smoothly, motioning to the hall covered in vines and moss.

“i’ll see you tonight? unless you plan on locking yourself up in your bedroom to write a midterm.”

“are you crazy? those soccer stands are far too tempting.”

“the soccer stands, huh?”

you smile before feeling a sudden pain from your finger, drawing your attention away from jeonghan. specks of blood appear where your nail had been snagged, and you take a step back.

“mhmm, i have a thing for cold metal. i’ll see you tonight.”

you’re moving away too quickly to catch his goodbye. it’s silenced by the resonant conversations of students walking by.

your finger is covered in blood by the time you make it to your seat. without a bandaid in sight, you have no other choice but to suck it away.

surely jeonghan had a bandaid in his backpack. he probably has an entire first aid kit beneath his books, right beside a few spoons, and extra blue bows in case a certain someone in his environmental ethics class ever needs one.

like a precognition, your phone vibrates: the administration office on the second floor has bandaids and lollipops. i’d stay away from the lollipops, though. pretty sure they expired in 1995.

#jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan reactions #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan drabbles #jeonghan blurbs #jeonghan oneshot #jeonghan fic #jeonghan imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff

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tightjeansjavi · 11 months

Text

Endings Create New Beginnings

Burning in a Hopeless Dream | The Prologue: Part 1

(Joel Miller x f!reader)

A/N: I’m actually amazed with myself for writing this as fast as I did. I wrote this as a reader, but this is the prologue for “Burning in a Hopeless Dream” so this is Joel x Gwen but 100% can be read as a reader as well. These two have truly been living in my head rent free all week. I’m so happy I finally have written a prologue for this story that means so much to me. I’ve hinted at Joel, Tess, and Gwen’s initial meeting, but never truly dived into it till now. I also stated this a couple posts back, but Gwen is canonically bisexual.

Happy reading ♡

~word count: 3.0k~

Summary: after losing your lover, and friends of 5 years, you find yourself running straight into Joel Miller, and his partner, Tess Servopoulos. You don’t know it then, but your life is about to drastically change forever.

Warnings: canon typical violence (briefly described but still graphic) death of reader’s lover and friends, mentions of raiders, lots of internal thoughts, angst, trauma, grief, fear, reader throws a knife at Joel’s face, Tess wants to kill the reader (for obvious reasons) Joel uses a fear tactic to get the reader to trust him, Joel is a little mean, Joel empathizes with the reader but also finds her to be useful, Tess isn’t too happy about it, dark themes, no use of y/n no descriptions of the reader (+18) minors dni!

October, 2017 : 14 years after outbreak day

~Do I speak my truth or do I filter how I feel? ~

You still remember the sound of howling wind whistling against your ears. Rain coming down in torrential downpour. Your vision blurred through the sheet of rain, and salty tears. Blood was pounding in your ears. Heart racing in the cavern of your ribcage. Fear. Fear lingered in every corner. Every crevice. Fear was constant. Fear of the unknown. Fear of tomorrow. Fear of losing the ones you loved most. Killing your parents was hard enough as it was. Their screams, their snarls, still haunt your dreams. The dead look in their cold eyes, glassed over. You still remember the sob you let out when it was all over. Surrounded in a pool of your dead parent’s blood. Crimson, flowing like a river. I’m so sorry. You remember whispering through the thick, neverending silence. Why couldn’t they just tell you that they were infected? Why did they hide it from you? You had no choice. It was you, or them. Survive. Survive. Survive.

Run like hell. Run. Run. Run.

So you did just that. You fucking ran. Far. Far. Far from what had been your home for nearly a decade. You had nothing but a worn backpack on your shoulder, and your knife. The handle was carved with your initials. You had no plan. No strategy. Nothing but the thought of survival in your mind. There was no time to mourn the loss of your parents. No time could be wasted.

You ran and never looked back.

A band of misfits is what you called yourselves. Lost souls. Grief stricken by the cordyceps. 5 friends. 5 human beings that deserved so much more than the world had given them. Five children, forced to grow up. Forced to survive. You were all family. Bonded over your own losses. 5 survivors, 2 unbeknownst lovers.

5 years of friendship. 5 years of love. All ripped away from you one cold, rainy, October morning.

You never experienced love like this, till you met her. It was just a crush, at first. Stolen glances, hidden smiles. Fingers brushing, eye contact, soft breaths. Skin set aflame. You’d do anything to keep her safe. Even if it meant risking your own life, for the sake of her own. How would you feel if you knew that trying to keep her safe would be in vain. Hours before your life as you knew it would drastically change, you were out patrolling with your lover. It happened all so fast. The clicker charged, knocking you to the frost covered grass. Your ears were ringing, pain shot up your spine, wind knocked from your lungs. Your knife was out of your grasp as you screamed. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.

You waited for the inevitable moment for your life to end. It never came. Your lover ripped the clicker from your fallen body, screaming as she tackled the creature to the forest floor. Her own knife buried deep in the jugular. Blood spurting across her face. It happened in a blink of an eye. She was bit. She was bit as the clock ticked. Tick tick tick. She was bit, but reassured you she wasn’t as she offered you her hand, pulling you up gently.

“Are you bit?” You frantically asked her. You hugged her so tightly. The fear of losing her was becoming all too real.

“I’m not bit baby. I promise. I’m not bit.” She lied. Kissing you softly, holding your face gently in her palms. Thumbs lightly brushing your cheekbones, eyes fluttering shut.

You believed her.

The raiders were closing in fast. 20 men. 20 violent men. 20 men with only one thing on their minds. Kill. Kill. Kill. Cordyceps weren’t the only thing to fear in this post apocalyptic world. The biggest fear of them all was man. You were outnumbered with a slim to none chance of surviving. Little weapons, and no plan. No escape, and death on the horizon. You felt like you had let them down. Your friends. You let them down. You let her down.

“Listen to me. You fucking run. You run like hell. Do you hear me? You run, and you don’t look back.” She was holding you by the shoulders, fingers trembling, hands shaking. Her time was running out and you had no fucking clue.

“What? No! NO! I’m not leaving you. I’m not fucking leaving you! I’m not leaving them!” You yelled through the howling wind, using the thick evergreens as cover. You could hear shouting in the distance, gunshots. Screams.

Her fingers tightened their hold around your shoulders. Tears blurred her vision as you quickly began to brush them away. She was studying your face in those last moments together. She wanted to remember every detail of your face. Every last detail. “We’re outnumbered! If you don’t go now, you’ll die! You protected us for this long. You did so well baby. So fucking well. Now, you go before it’s too late!”

“Come with me. Please. Please come with me. I’ll keep you safe. I promised you I'd keep you safe!” Your own tears were blurring your vision. Your fingers trembled along her cheekbones, forehead pressed against hers.

“I’ll only slow you down. I’ll only become a burden. You’ll die if I come with you. I have to give you the best fucking chance you got. I’ll distract them. I’ll keep you safe. You have to let me go. You have to survive, okay?” She wanted to tell you. It was on the tip of her tongue. I'm bit. I’m dead regardless. Bullet to the skull, or torn apart. I’m long fucking gone. She wanted to tell you. She kissed you instead. Crushing her lips against your own. Tasting the mix of your salty tears on her tongue. You held each other close as the wind howled, and the rain pelted down around you.

Her lips soon detached from your own, pushing you away. It sent daggers through your chest as her hands roughly shoved you from her. You were shattered.

“GO! GO NOW! RUN! FUCKING RUN!” She screamed as you scrambled to your feet, boots sloshing in the muddy earth.

She pushed you further, and further away. You took one last look at your first love. One last look, one last goodbye, before you turned on your heel and ran like hell.

Your heart screamed at you to turn back around as you heard her blood curdling scream pierce through the storm. Your feet only carried you faster as the wind whipped through your ears. Bullets whizzed past your head, chipping away at bark along the trees.

Run. Run. Run.

Your lungs were on fire, adrenaline pumping through your veins, blood pounding in your ears. Your muscles were strained, screaming at you to stop. The shouts became distant till they were no longer detectable. You kept running. You didn’t stop. You kept going until you stumbled upon two strangers that would change your life forever.

You didn’t think twice as you threw your knife at the man's face. The blade whizzed through the pounding rain and fierce wind. Your blade struck home. Slicing through the man's brow. The skin was thin, delicate, and easy to cut. He barely registered the knife whizzing past his face. He felt his blood trickling down his brow, and weathered cheek. It happened in a blink of an eye.

I’ll fucking kill you! You remember the woman beside him screaming through the harsh wind. Her gun cocked in your direction. You had no weapon. No plan. No escape. You waited for the moment a bullet would strike through you. You waited for the echoing gunshot. You just hoped death would be quick. You didn’t want to suffer. Please don’t let me suffer.

The bullet never came.

“Are you crazy Joel?! She just tried to fucking kill you, and you want me to spare her?! She threw a knife at your face for fuck sakes!” The woman yelled at him as he demanded her to lower her gun.

“Lower your gun, Tess. Lower your fuckin’ gun!” The man yelled.

Good. They were distracted. Now was your chance to escape. Now was your chance to run till your legs would inevitably give out.

Joel pushed his partner firmly back with his arm. His eyes were locked on hers, brows furrowed. His attention turned to you. He wasn’t sure why his smidge of humanity decided to show up now. Why didn’t he let Tess kill you? You tried to kill him. It would only be fair if she stuck a bullet between your eyes. You looked like you had been through hell. Alone, frightened, and all the more lethal. Determined to survive, no matter what it takes.

You took a few timid steps back. Your eyes were brimmed with fear. This man was going to kill you, you were absolutely certain of it. This was it. You weren’t going to be able to escape. You could try and overpower him, sure. Who were you kidding? This man could snap you like a fucking twig if he wanted.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you.” You heard him say. His arms were held up, showing you that he didn't have any weapons. Showing you that he wasn’t an immediate threat.

You scrambled back when he got too close. Slipping in the muddy grass as you fell to the forest floor. You quickly pushed yourself along your elbows, using the adrenaline you had left to try and escape.

“Hey, listen to me. I ain’t gonna hurt ya. Even if I was, you wouldn’t be makin’ it out of here in one piece.” His southern drawl was deep, and his cinnamon brown eyes were warm. You expected them to hold a cold stare on your trembling form. Instead, they held pity? Sorrow? Empathy?

You let out a scream when his boot pressed down on your ankle firmly. He didn’t do it to hurt you. He did it to try and ground you.To stop you from making a fruitless attempt to scramble away. It made you feel like a cornered animal. He thought you had some serious guts to throw a knife at his face like that.

“Get away from me! Get away!” You seethed through your teeth as you tried to free your ankle from under his heavy boot.

“Stop tryin’ to fuckin’ fight me and I won’t kill you, girl. You ain’t got any weapons. Nowhere to run. You won’t make it very far.” The man crouched down to your level, lowering himself on one knee while his boot stayed heavily planted over your ankle.

“Fucking kill me then! Get it over with. You’d be doing me a huge fucking favor if you did.” You let out a choked laugh that sounded more like a strained sob.

“Are you bit? Hurt anywhere? What the hell were you runnin’ like hell from?” The man asked as his eyes locked on yours, brow raised.

“I’m not fucking bit.” You hissed. “Men. I was running from fucking men. A group of raiders. 20 strong, and heavily armed.” Your breath was shaky as your eyes stayed locked on his. Blood was still trickling down from the fresh cut along his brow. The man didn’t seem to care about the open wound. He held the least bit of concern for the blood dripping down his face.

“Raiders? Were you in a group? How many?” He was offering you his hand to take. You refused. You didn’t want his help.

“Five, including myself. They’re all dead.” You deadpanned.

“Lone survivor, huh? Gotta say, you have one hell of an aim darlin.’ You wanna live another day? Take my fuckin’ hand. I’m only gonna offer it once.” The man sternly spoke as he held his outstretched hand to you.

You wearily looked over his shoulder at the woman, who you assumed was his partner. She looked furious. You met his gaze once more. “She wants me dead.” You stated the painful obvious.

“She does.” The man said with a slight nod of confirmation.

“Why won’t you let her just kill me?” It was a fair question to ask.

“Cus’ anyone that’s got the fuckin’ balls to throw a knife at someone’s face like that, deserves to live another day. You didn’t even hesitate. Feel like it would be a waste to let someone with that kinda grit die. I suggest you take my hand. Those raiders are still probably out there, and they’ll do far worse than just kill ya. Trust me, I used to be one. So was she.” He gestured to Tess who was standing close by. “You think they’ll kill you fast? Oh, no. They’ll torture ya first. You’re a pretty thing too, so then they’ll have their way with you. They’ll be rough, unforgiving, and you’ll be on deaths fuckin’ doorstep by the time they’re finished with you. You’ll be beggin’ them to kill you, and they won’t. You’ll suffer if they get a hold of ya. Her and I? We’re not good people. We’ve done bad things, but I ain’t ever put my hands on a woman. I ain’t like them. If you still choose to die, I'll make it quick, painless. You won’t feel a damn thing. Or, you swallow your fuckin’ pride and take my hand. Your choice.” This was Joel’s final offer.

His words weighed deep in your brain. You could choose to not take his hand, run like hell, only to be captured by those monsters that called themselves men. Or, you could take his hand and live another day.

You found yourself reaching for his hand without a second thought. Your clammy palm wrapped around his rough calloused ridden one.

“Atta girl.” He gently helped you to your feet. “I’m Joel, and the woman over there that wants to kill ya? That’s Tess.”

All you could do was meekly nod. You still couldn’t understand why a total fucking stranger was sparing your life.

“You have got to be out of your goddamn mind, Texas. We are not about to fuckin’ take this girl back with us after she tried to fuckin’ kill you.” Tess was shooting daggers at you, arms crossed over her chest.

So, he was from Texas.

“We’re takin’ her with us. Don’t care what you have to say ‘bout it. Ain’t gonna leave her out here to die. Besides, she’s got guts. She might be a good asset for us.” Joel attempted to reason with his partner and spin this in his favor.

Oh, so he was totally doing this for his own benefit. Like you were some pawn..to their operation? Whatever the hell that was.

“Yeah? So when she tries to fuckin’ kill us in our sleep, you gonna still let her live?” Tess scoffed.

“She even attempts to kill one of us, I'll let you kill her. Sound like a good deal to ya? Bullet between the eyes, slit her throat, break her bones. However you wanna do it, but only if she tries to kill us.” Joel wanted to instill fear in you from his threat. He was dead serious. You could tell just from his tone alone. This was no game to play.

“Fine. You hear that, girl? You fuckin’ try anything on us, and i’ll gouge those pretty eyes out of your fuckin’ skull.” Tess sneered.

An unpleasant chill traveled down your spine at her words. You weren’t sure who to be more afraid of. Joel, or Tess.

You averted making eye contact with Tess as you grabbed your knife from the forest floor, tucking it into the holster around your thigh.

“You ever been to a QZ?” Joel asked you as his partner walked ahead of him.

“No. Never been to one.” You adjusted the strap of your backpack along your shoulder, following his lead through the dense cover of evergreens.

“Well, it's a complete shit hole. FEDRA fucks in almost every corner. Word of advice, don’t get yourself thrown into lockup. Anyway, Tess and I are smugglers. We bring in all kinds of shit. Weapons, drugs, supplies. You fuckin’ name it. Risky business, but we’ve grown quite a reputation. No one fucks with us, usually. You’ll earn your keep eventually. I imagine you’ve got a lot more to offer than just a pretty face.”

You wanted to scoff and roll your eyes at his remark. You refrained only due to the fact that you presently owed your life to this man.

“You ever get thrown in lockup?” Your eyes were locked on his back as you trailed behind him.

“Couple times. Got most of those dickheads wrapped ‘round my finger. Helps when you’re bringin’ pills in. Who taught ya how to throw a knife like that?” He glanced over his shoulder at you. He half expected you to run by now. He was pleasantly surprised to see that you hadn’t. Smart girl, he thought to himself.

“I did.” You responded with zero hesitation.

“No kiddin?’ You just picked up a knife one day and threw it? Bullshit. S’alright. You don’t gotta tell me your secrets or nothin.’ I’m pretty good at keepin.’ to myself anyway. Never caught your name though darlin.’

“Yep.” You mumbled.

“Ah. Wanna remain mysterious, huh? Like I said, I ain’t gonna pry. You’re probably a bit shell shocked anyway. We got an apartment in the QZ. It ain’t much, but by the looks of you..probably a hell of a lot better than what you’re used to.”

You were shell shocked. It was written all over your face. You had lost the one person you truly loved, lost your friends, and escaped death twice now. Joel didn’t need to know all of that. He just could see right through your defensive facade, and you fucking hated it.

“S’alright darlin.’ We all got our own skeletons in our closets, and I know a survivor when I see one.” He murmured softly.

What skeletons did Joel have in his closet? You couldn’t help but wonder.

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