#somebody might have already have drawn it even

[viva-el-belt-libre]

I had a vaguely InuYasha related dream this night and I feel like i need to share this concept with all fanartists out there:

Modern AU Miroku with an undercut.

[bigfatbimbo]

Can you do a Alastor x married reader? (No smut please just wholesome and gore shit)

omg i didn’t know if you wanted Alastor with a reader who’s already married to somebody else or if you want reader who’s married to Alastor.

Initially i thought it was the ladder so that’s what i wrote. If you wanted the first option you can drop another ask and i’ll write that too!

✧.* He goes absolutely crazy for your wedding anniversaries, like i’m not kidding. He would probably do really extreme borderline insane grand gestures

✧.* like say you like nirvana he would probably hunt down kurt kobain and steal his soul just so you get a free concert

✧.* that was a ridiculous example but the gestures are seriously that crazy 

✧.* His love language would probably be gift giving and acts of service. He’s the type to unexpectedly get you flowers or chocolates because he doesn’t really know how else to express his affection towards you.

✧.* On your wedding day, your first dance would probably start slow but then halfway through the song pick up the pace and have like an electro-swing type beat. 

✧.* I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t tell you about it either, just all of a sudden started spinning and dipping you. 

✧.* as you know, he is SUCH an attention whore and his jealousy gets even worse after you two get married. He wants your eyes on him at all times and throws a little tantrum anytime someone else has your attention.

✧.* Luckily you know him well enough to figure out when this happens. Maybe even call him out on it, that’ll get him going.

✧.* If you do end up saying something about his jealousy, especially if it’s in a teasing way, watch his grin tighten and his eyes widen before shaking his head slightly. Obviously trying to hide how much you just caught him off guard.

✧.* He’ll probably say something like “Oh, my dear, you know me far too well.”

✧.* Kisses aren’t as common as they are in other peoples relationships, not to say they don’t happen. Usually he’s the one to initiate it as he’s not that big of a fan of physical touch.

✧.* But he’ll wait until you two have a moment alone and lean down to kiss you.

✧.* Although if he is in a touchy mood, however rare that scenario might be, he will show you very discreetly. maybe you two are just lounging in bed and he’ll gradually scoot ever so slightly closer too you until your practically squeezed together.

✧.* Maybe you take the hint and start to hold his hand, or even rub his back. He wouldn’t say how much he liked it but maybe even let him lean on your shoulder.

✧.* Brother has mad parental issues and misses his mommy so he actually would love feeling taken care of like that.

✧.* More on his jealousy, he will ABSOLUTELY WITHOUT A DOUBT kill for you. Whether it’s someone who just had your attention for a little too long, or someone who just plain annoyed you, they’re a goner. OH, and it will not be fast. it will be drawn out and slow because this bitch is absolutely crazy.

✧.* He loves to dance so much that’s probably the most common form of physical touch between you two. 

✧.* Alastor also has a terrible habit of just talking AT you. Usually you humor him at listen even if it feels like he’s talking to himself more than you. Buddy just thinks the things he has to say or super important so you just nod your head and smile.

✧.* If you’re especially known for being Alastors wife then people will absolutely steer clear of you. Actually, a week into dating he probably already sent a message to people who even thought of messing with you. Yeah, it doesn’t happen often anymore.

✧.* He also likes it when you cook for him. It reminds him of his childhood and probably makes him happy. 

✧.* He will DEFINITELY join it and help you cook because my boy loves that quality time!

✧.* Maybe you and him happen to be disliking the same demon and decide to kill them together. Literally power couple shit right there, taking turns beating the shit out of some disrespectful bitch. 

✧.* Probably kissing whilst that’s happening too to be honest.

a/n: OMG IM NOT VERY PROUD OF THIS TBH!! I swear usually i’m better at writing but i literally just don’t like Alastor very much? I don’t know he just doesn’t do it for… well anyways bc of that it might be a little out of character.

[nezuscribe]

𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖑𝖊𝖋𝖙 𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊

summary: when a disease turns the world into an apocalyptic landscape, you join a group in order to survive. you find yourself drawn to a certain blue-eyed man for no explainable reason. though the two of you have your own pasts to deal with, the two of you grow closer and closer together. after all, it seems as though you’re the only lovers left alive

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

genre: post apocalypse au, strangers to friends to lovers, slight angst, fluff, smut, some hurt comfort, inspired by some of the events from the last of us

word count: 16k+

warnings: 18+ mdni, some heavy-ish themes, mentions of suicide, smut, heavy making out, fingering, vaginal penetration, cum eating, slight begging, gojo is a teeny bit of a dick but overall just doesn’t know how to handle emotions

note: i did take some inspo from the last of us, so if you see something you might recognize, it’s because i most likely based something off of it. nothing too major though, but the infected here are like the ones in the game/show. i don’t want any comments saying i stole the idea bc i stg i’ll just combust 

also a thank you for @jadeisthirsting​ for beta-reading again, love her!

You were glad that chocolate bars survived the apocalypse. 

Those, along with chips (you don’t look at expiration dates anymore), crackers, and protein bars seemed to stand the tests of time. 

The abandoned convenience store was harshly run down. The glass was shattered, and you could hear the crunch of shards underneath your boots whenever you walked up and down the aisles. Vegetation took reign in most of the area, and vines grew alongside the walls and the counters. Weeds sprung through the cracks in the floor and long blades of grass peeked in from the outside. 

A lot of the aisles were already ransacked from those who came before, but you had to admit that this place was in much better condition food-wise than all the others you had seen. You loaded your cart with whatever you could find; cereal, bars, chips, instant ramen, jerky, really anything that wasn’t perishable by your standards. 

You also made sure to stock up on medical supplies while you were here. Antiseptic, rolls of bandages, needles for stitching, medical tape. You were able to find a bottle of disinfectant and some rubbing alcohol, so you spent a couple of minutes cheering over the small victory. 

The rays of sun that peeked through and washed out certain parts of the store a quiet orange made it seem more serene than it actually was, and you took your time as you leaned on the cart handle, walking slowly as you tried to pretend like you were just shopping for amenities like you would years ago, without the fear of the outside world trying to hunt you down the moment you stepped out. 

Under your breath you hummed a soft tune, letting your fingers run over the empty shelves as you looked around. 

Many opened boxes littered the ground. None of them were to your benefit so you just stepped over them, tapping something on your arm to keep your mind busy. It was only noon, so you had a couple of hours to waste before it got dark.

Though you had the hunting rifle near you in case anything popped out in front of you, you liked to pretend that there was no danger when you rounded a corner. It saved a little naive part of your mind to imagine that everything was normal when you knew that it wasn’t.  

“...yeah, no, no, I agree, I just…” 

You stopped in your tracks, air hitching in your throat as you went rigid upon hearing the muffled voices. 

“I heard the bunkers in Kyoto and Osaka fell…radio transmission,” It was a female voice, that much you could make out. But assessing the sound of feet shuffling on the floor and the other sounds, you knew there had two be at least two people, maybe even more. 

You couldn’t even remember the last time you had heard somebody speak. You tried to remember, raking your mind for when it was, and it must have been months ago, maybe even a year, and that was just a small encounter. You doubted the guy even saw you. And this is far worse, they closed and you have nowhere to hide without making a sound. They could be raiders or scavengers. One of them could be infected without the other's knowledge. Millions of thoughts ran through your head as you tried to rationalize with yourself.

“What happened to the one in Nara?” This time it was a male voice, and much closer than before. They were probably only a few aisles away until they reached you. You could feel your heart beating uncontrollably fast, rattling against your ribcage as your mind faltered on what to you. 

“They’re not letting people inside. They deter anybody unless you have a pre-bought cabin there.” The first woman replied, and you could hear some glass clanking as she kicked an empty beer bottle (from what you could deduce), across the floor. 

“How do you know so much?” Another male asked. Three so far, you made a mental note as you tried shoving all your food and things in any pocket you could find, shoving the big bottle of rubbing alcohol down your shirt to nestle on your bra. You didn’t risk your life trying to find this place just to have some strangers take the things you so desperately need.

“They play messages on the radio at night. If you didn’t go to sleep so fuckin’ fast you might hear something useful.” The first girl said, but there was no bite to her voice. She even chuckled, and you swore one of the other guys laughed too. 

“Why can’t we just stay where we are? We haven’t seen any infected here.” Four. This time it was another girl's voice. So far, two females and two males. You were severely outnumbered. You doubted you were that skilled, even in all your years, to surpass four people.  

Deciding to leave a few bars behind, you gingerly moved past the cart, making sure not to make a sound as you tiptoed across the broken bottles and glass. You held your breath and tried to hold onto your jacket, not wanting anything to fall out. 

You tried to phase out whatever they were saying so you could stay focused. You squinted your eyes as rays of the sun blinded you when they peeked through some cracks in the ceiling. You shuffled slowly and precisely, your heart quite literally beating in your throat as moved around the debris on the floor. 

You could see the double doors, both open as you let out an inaudible sigh of relief when you saw them, a promise that you weren’t going to die right here when-

CRUNCH.

You stopped, eyes slowly falling down to the comically large piece of glass under your foot, now shattered into a million pieces as you stop breathing. You wait for abated second, thinking nobody heard until you heard some clattering coming from behind you. 

“What the fuck was that?” One of the girls asked, her laughter long gone from her voice as her question rang through the store. 

“I don’t know…wait here…”

You could run, it wasn’t that far to the door, but you were frozen in your place. It was like when…you couldn’t even think about it. Your mind blanked, your limbs not moving despite your brain willing them to do something, anything.

It felt like that day all over again, the weakness and fear that overtook your mind and body as you shook, your legs cramping, your hands shivering as your eyes darted around, your lips clamped between your teeth as blood roared in your ears. 

You wondered if you’d been faster or more agile something may have gone differently. But really, no matter what you were wouldn’t have altered the fact that you saw a blur of clothes from your peripheral, craning to look to your right as your eyes meet bright blue ones. 

Your brows furrowed when the two of you locked eyes, your chests moving up and down as you looked at the weapon in his hand, drawn out, pointing at your head as you blinked, mind going into overdrive as you let out a heavy sigh of air.

He looked angelic and you wanted to smack yourself for that being your first thought. His hair was artic white, tainted a bright yellow as the sun shined over him. He had a sturdy jaw and a tall frame. Long and delicate fingers clutching onto a weapon, getting ready to pull it out the moment he saw you. 

Sure, you could blame it on the fact that you hadn’t seen a man for over three years, but you knew that even despite your blurry and confused judgment he was better looking than most of the guys you’ve seen most of your life. 

There were a few seconds where neither of you said anything, not really knowing what to say as you shifted ever so slightly on your left foot, not knowing if you ran to the door he’d shoot you in the process. 

“Satoru?” A girl came in from behind him, looking at him and then to where his gaze fell until she saw you, a small aurora of surprise taking over her features. 

“Stay with Geto,” The man said, his voice harsh as his eyes narrowed on you, his face unreadable but cold nonetheless as his focus never left your every tiny motion. Taking in all of your features, your clothes, your skin, your eyes. Anything that could give away that you were infected. 

Your eyes darted from him to the girl to his side, not knowing who to look at. The person with the gun pointed at you or the one who stared at you as if you were an artifact, a token she hadn’t seen before. 

“I’m not a threat,” You say after a couple more seconds of unbearable silence, your voice hoarse from barely using it anymore. You rub at your throat, wincing a little as you put your arms up to show that you have nothing in your hands, “I swear I’ll just leave and nothing else.” 

The girl stayed where she was, gnawing on her lip as she shoved the man's arms with hers. 

“She seems fine-” 

“Seems doesn’t mean she’s not infected.” He snapped, never taking his eyes away from you as he pulled his elbow away from her grasp. His voice had a bite to it, sending chills that traveled down your spine. He had no emotion on his face, clear of anything human. 

“I-I’m not infected.” You retaliate, taking a tentative step forward, watching as his grip on his gun became tighter, and taking a step back as he pushed the girl behind him. You put your arms up again, worried you were playing with fate as you slowly and carefully put your bare arms under a ray of light, making sure he could see your actions. You tugged on your sleeves, pulled down the collar of your shirt, and showed him your calves, anything to prove that you weren’t bitten. 

“See…?” 

You waited, his stare jumping from your face to your arm, different gears in his head turning as he debated what to do. 

“‘Toru, she’s not infected,” The girl said, trying to nudge his hand so he’d lower the weapon, “She’s right, she’d be in pain right now if she was.” 

But he didn’t move, his jaw ticking as he shook his head, seemingly still not believing you.

“How do I know you all aren’t infected?” You snapped, angry, as you tried to hide the quiver in your voice. They could be and they’re doing well to hide it. 

“We’re not.” He said, his voice steady, confident, and not carrying any trace of a lie.

“What’s taking so long?” Another voice joined the three of you, a man, the same in height as the one in front of you as he clasped a hand on his shoulder, his brow cocking in surprise when he saw you. His hair was a stark black, pulled into a bun behind his head. Some strands had escaped and fallen out. He seemed far more easygoing than the man next to him, though. His eyes were brighter and his smile was genuine. He looked over to the side as the girl shrugged, worry lacing her features as he drummed his fingers in her arm. He looked back at you, giving you a tiny smile, “What’s your name sweetheart?”

“Doesn’t matter if you’d just let me go.” You said, your voice mirroring the white-haired man, the new guy’s lips pulling into a little grin as he let out a deep laugh.

“Drop the gun ‘Toru, she’s fine.” The new guy said with a laugh, stepping forward as you took one back, your lungs squeezing together tightly as you went to grab the weapon strapped on your back.

He raised his hands as you had seconds ago, trying to show that he wasn’t intending any harm as he took another step forward. The playful look he had on his face melted away, forming to something softer as he took in the cuts that littered your cheek and knew, the way your eyes darted from his hands to his face to detect any danger. 

“Hello,” He started with a careful smile, not wanting to scare you off, “I’m Geto, but my friends call me Suguru,” He pointed to the girl behind him, “Vera even calls me dumb bitch-”

“Only when I’m mad!” She argued, shooting you an apologetic and embarrassed smile when she realized you were there too, and he snorted, continuing. 

“And the blue-eyed freak is Satoru. Anna’s back there, somewhere. Swear we don’t mean any harm. He’s just,” He glanced behind him at the man who was slowly lowering the gun, his face still clearly telling that he was weary of you, “Cautious.” 

He held out his hand, far larger than yours, for a shake. 

You tilted your head to the side, eyes squinting a little bit as you tried to make out just what he was trying to do.

But you dropped your hand from grasping onto the leather strap of your weapon, your fingers stretching, itching for some human contact as you debated for a little bit. Surely but slowly you brought your hand to his, softly clutching it to see a smile overtake his features. 

“Y/n,” You reciprocate with a small smile of your own, your chapped lips not used to the feeling. His fingers were long as they overtook yours, calloused, but human. They gave yours a gentle squeeze, almost as if he could tell, and you have one back. Something that you never realized you had missed up until this very moment, “My name’s y/n.”

He said your name once under his breath to commit it to memory. 

“You going anywhere specific?” He asked, his hands crossed across his chest as he waited patiently for you to answer. 

You swallowed dryly, in desperate need of some water as you pointed somewhere north. 

“Heard there’s a camp somewhere in Takayama…you?” 

He chuckled, nodding as if he couldn’t believe your words, looking behind him as the girl you guessed was Vera let out a small laugh too. The blue-eyed man, Satoru you deduced, stayed stoic, not giving anything away.

“By any chance are you talking about that one camp that has running water ‘n shit?” 

You nod, not trusting your voice anymore as you blink. 

“Nice,” He cocked his head in the direction of his group, the second girl, Anna, now walking in to see what the fuss was about, “That’s where we’re going too. Or at least, trying to. Care to join?”

You quickly learned that this group was different from your old one. 

They were serious, sure, but everybody was given the predicament. They were on guard at any sudden noise, guns drawn and ready, but they still acted like you guess they would have back in their old lives. They made jokes, laughed at each other's stupid mistakes, and spent the days and nights filling the silence with whatever they could. 

It was jarring, really, seeing how your old group of six never laughed nor had a moment of naïve fun, but you were far more fond of this than that.

“Damn, so you’re the youngest one here then?” Geto asked one day as you five trudged through an abandoned city. You looked up, mouth parted in slight awe as you took in the strange sights; abandoned skyscrapers, some tilting over a bit. Many were severely destroyed by the bombings. There were large craters on the ground, concrete slabs, and building chunks that fell into them. Geto nudged your side, snapping you from your trance as he waited for you to answer.

“Oh, um, yeah, I guess,” Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment, “Only by a little bit though. I was about to graduate high school when it started and I guess that was like what, five-ish years ago?” You couldn’t distinctly remember, time had just become a construct after so many months.

Vera and Anna had begun talking about how old they were when it started, and you had gotten roped into the conversation. 

“You’re the baby of the group now!” Anna exclaimed, pinching your cheeks with a giggle as you laughed softly, looking down at the cracked concrete beneath your feet as your backpack thumped on your back with every step you took, “It's good though,” She whispered in your ear, “You can use it to get out of chores.” You snickered at that, rolling your eyes but thankful for the tip.

You found out that Anna was only a couple of months older than you. Then came Geto, who was a year older than you two, Vera was around as old as him, and Gojo was two years older than you. 

“Wait, so you’ve been traveling alone all these years?” Anna was the one to ask as she walked closer to you, her brows pinched together in confusion, 

You could have sworn it was an unspoken rule not to talk about the past unless somebody brought it up directly.

“No, no,” You shook your head as your nose wrinkled at the thought, “I was part of a bigger group. But we,” You looked away, at nothing in particular as a sharp pang ran through your chest, “We split up a while ago. That’s when I went solo.”

She nodded in understanding, pulling her hair back as she tied it up, fanning her face at the heat. The sun was beating harshly on your face, sweat prickling at your hairline as you squinted through the bright light.

“Was it hard?” Anna asked, clearly not picking up on your reluctance to the subject. 

You swallowed, feeling like a part of your chest was heavier than it was seconds before as you cleared your throat. 

“I, well,” You shrugged, stammering a bit, “A little bit, but I learned how to-”

“How’d you get your food?” She cut you off. You could tell she wasn’t trying to do any harm, her eyes shining with childish curiosity but it didn’t do anything to hide the fact that it quite literally felt like your throat was closing up. 

“I would hunt or find whatever I co-”

“So you like being part of a group?” 

“Yeah-”

“Did it ever get lonely?”

“Anna,” Gojo cut her off, his voice not loud but commanding enough to get everybody's attention, speaking for the first time in what seemed a couple of hours, “Calm down.” 

Her eyes darted from you to him, finally noting the overwhelmed expression that you were trying your best to hide as she muttered out a quiet sorry. She moved to talk to Vera, and you were thankful that it wasn’t awkward as you went back to looking at the buildings. 

You gave him a small nod, grateful, but he only blinked, looking away as he went back to listening to whatever Geto was telling him. You huffed out a small embarrassed laugh, not putting much thought into it as you kicked a pebble across the ground, feeling the wind tickle your cheeks as you tried to hold back the sting of tears in your eyes. 

Gojo didn’t say much, even after you joined their group, and Vera told you it was normal and not to take it to heart. So you didn’t try to talk much with him, not wanting to push and prod at any of his boundaries. But he was nice otherwise, in his own ways. He took the night watch, letting you guys sleep, and insisted that he was fine with it. He was attentive, always giving the rest of his food to Anna when she complained about how hungry she was. He was cautious, as Geto would put it, but you couldn’t blame him. You were cautious too.

Did it ever get lonely? Her question rang through your mind. It was stupid, you’ve only known her for a short amount of time. Hell, you’ve only known these people for a couple of weeks but it felt like she had dug a hot iron into your chest with the simple query. It was pathetic, really, but it was that thing where the more you tried to stop yourself from crying the worse it became, and that seemed to be true right now. 

You fell behind a little bit, not anything much, but enough so that you were by yourself as you looked up. You found it easier to control your emotions as you blinked back the tears, not wanting to wipe them away in case anybody noticed. In front of you, you could hear Vera and Anna arguing about something minuscule, smiles still on their faces as they playfully banter back and forth. 

The wind began to pick up a bit, your eyes watering even more as you blinked back the fat tears that were threatening to fall and roll down your cheek, biting your lip as if that could make it stop.

“Everything alright?”

Your head whipped to the side to where the voice came from, a little surprised to see Gojo walking next to you. His hair was tucked behind his ears, hands in his pockets as he waited for your response. 

As you blinked in shock a small tear fell, and you quickly wiped it away with the back of your hand, no use in hiding it now as you nodded, lips quivering a bit as you sniffled. You could count the number of times he had spoken to you on a single hand, so you hid it by looking away. Your cheeks heated up under his heavy stare, not used to it, especially from him. 

“Y-yeah, I’m good.” You said as you exhaled shakily, not having the guts to look at him as you just stared directly ahead of you at the three heads of the other members of the group. But you weren't good at masking the lie as you watched from the corner of your eyes as he pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to you. 

Looking at his outstretched hand you saw a tissue and your eyes darted to him in questioning. 

“It’s not poisoned, y’know.” He told you, his voice slightly less monotone as you let out a watery laugh, tentatively taking it from him as you whispered out a hushed thanks. 

You blew your nose as quietly as you could, feeling bad as you threw it to the side of the street you blinked again, hoping this time you could do a better job of controlling your pesky and fragile emotions with somebody next to you.

There was a silent beat as neither of you said anything, wringing your fingers together as you tried to look for an explanation for all this. It was stupid, childish, and downright embarrassing, but you still couldn’t find the words to justify anything.

“Anna can be like that. You learn to live with it.” Gojo finally said, interrupting your train of thought as he spoke. You could tell he was slowing down his pace to match yours, his long legs taking shorter steps and you almost laughed at the sight. 

“It’s okay,” You said, rubbing at your eyes again as your nose wrinkled again, “I’m just not used to being…”

“Bombarded?” He said, finding the right word as you nodded with a small chuckle.

“Yeah… that. I know it’s stupid. I don’t even know why I’m…” You trailed off, wiping at your eyes with your palms as you took in a shaky breath, “It’s just been a while since I’ve talked this much, so I’m still trying to get used to it…sorry.” You let out a little hiccup, missing the way his lips almost pulled into a smile at the sound. 

“Don’t apologize,” He said, shrugging as he kicked a piece of broken asphalt across the sidewalk, “It’s not your fault.”

You went to open your mouth to say something back but Geto waved his arms, motioning the two of you to the rest of them as he pointed to something on the ground. 

“Oi, Gojo, come check this out. I don’t know if this is a cordyceps or a regular mushroom.” 

And you glanced at the man next to you one more time but he was already jogging forward to see what the fuss was about. It didn’t matter much, it shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t stop the way your little heart fluttered pathetically at his words. You quickened your pace, shaking your head at the thought as you joined the group once again.

But as much as you tried you couldn’t get his final words out of your head. It’s not your fault. How you wish it were true. If only he knew, he’d probably eat his own words. Swallow them up so that they were never spoken into existence because it was your fault. But you couldn’t say that now. 

You hated that time between day and night more than anything. 

When the crickets chirped and the sky became darker than it should have, casting a shadow over the ground. The stars were freckles across the sky and the light breeze didn’t distract you from the fact that clickers could be a stone's throw away from you without you ever realizing it. 

The abandoned apartment complex they decided to spend the night in was definitely in better condition than the ones surrounding it, but even with the extensive search you guys did up and down to make sure it was clear of any danger, you still felt a little nauseous as they set up base in the lobby. 

Your sleeping bags were sprawled out on the marble floor lined with dirt. You had your backpack next to you, your gun within arm's reach. Next to the fire was an array of cans to pick from, but you weren’t hungry, not in the slightest. You could barely stomach anything after Anna’s bombardment of questions that left you a quiet mess, and being surrounded by people in the dark just made it worse.

“Hungry?” Vera held out a can of preserved peaches but you shot your head, biting back the sick that made its way up to your throat at the thought of eating. You could feel her eyes burning on the side of your face but she didn’t press any further, eating as the two of you listened to Geto talk about his plan for reaching the camp in Takayama. 

He was the more animated one of the two males. He talked with his hands, his face contorting in different ways as he conversed with Anna. Gojo sat on the side, watching the flames dance across the rocks, his blue eyes lit a color you’ve never seen before as he listened in his own way to the conversation.

“I saw you earlier,” Vera whispered as she leaned in closer to you, throwing the empty can aside as she wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin, pointing to Geto so your attention could stay on him while you listened to her, mostly not to draw any attention from the others as she tucked her hair behind her ear, “Talking with Satoru.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, looking at Vera but she nudged you to look back at Geto, continuing. 

“I know he’s not the easiest person to warm up to,” She said with a shrug, picking at her nails as he glanced at you with a soft smile, “He used to be, before all this. I can’t really blame him for being on guard-” You nodded in understanding and she softly chuckled at your response, “But he cares.” 

About what? You wanted to ask but didn’t want to prod too much. 

“So you knew him before?” This was an easier one to answer, and she nodded, cracking her thumb as she rested her head on her arm. The light from the little fire Geto made casted red and orange shadows on the highlights of her face, and she seemed younger here (she wasn’t even old). Her wrinkles were gone, eyes were less full of stress.

“Yeah, he lived near us. Us, being me and Geto.” She quickly said to save you the confusion. Huh, you thought to yourself, no wonder they were so close.

“So you all grew up together?” 

“Yeah,” Her lips pulled into a soft smile, eyes creasing around the edges as she sat in thought, “From elementary school up until university. Geto and Gojo were even doing pre-med together.” 

You almost wanted to laugh at the thought. 

“I know, it’s weird. I can’t even begin to think of what they’d be like as doctors. But their parents wanted them to do it, so they just went along with whatever they said.” 

“What were you doing?” You asked, not even trying to focus on Geto anymore, finding her stories far more interesting. After some time you quickly learned that Vera had much to say when she wanted to, she was just selective when she did. 

“I was planning on becoming a teacher. It pissed my parents off, but I liked it.” Her words were soft, almost as if thinking about it brought back better memories. And you bet it probably did, a future she once wanted now far away from her reach. 

“And Anna? Did she grow up with you guys too?” 

She shook her head, stifling a yawn as her eyelids drooped a little bit. 

“No, we met Anna along the way. She and Emi were close though,” She said, rubbing at her tired face, dragging it down as she tried to fight the sleep threatening its way through her body. 

Emi?

You watched as her eyes widened slightly, looking over at you to see if you caught the name and she sighed in obvious disappointment, mad at herself for the slip-up. Mumbling something along the lines of shit to herself as she blinked quickly.

“Don’t - don’t ask,” She shot you a look and you dared to go against it, her face once lined with empathy turned stone cold, threatening even as her voice loomed its way through your bones, “Don’t say anything about that. Okay?” 

You nod, muttering out a soft ok, almost too scared to answer her loudly as she nodded, clearly not happy with it but knowing there wasn’t much else she could do. 

So you didn’t press it, pretending like you heard nothing as you nodded along to whatever Geto was saying. Though nothing could hide the fiery spark of curiosity that came with the new name, one you had never heard here before. 

You wondered why she tried to hide it.

That night you couldn’t sleep. 

You’d toss and turn, turning your pillow around to see if it would make a difference, but nothing was able to lull you into a tranquil state of being. 

The apartment would creak and groan sometimes, the stories above you stable enough not to collapse, but weak enough to freak you out from shutting your eyes as you stared at them. The crystal chandelier overhead was overrun by dust, and it would sway a little when the wind from outside picked up.

After a couple of minutes, you gave up, huffing in annoyance as you rubbed at your sleepy eyes, wishing they would just work with the rest of your body and sleep, but that was a pathetic attempt and didn’t work.

You got up, careful not to make a sound and disturb anybody sleeping around you, and looked around, looking for somewhere to sit that was safe and peaceful enough to help ease your mind. 

Moving as if you were about to step on a bomb, you found the reception desk, the paint peeling, and the wood corroding. It gave you a good view of the main apartment entrance, so you felt more comfortable there having a view of almost anything. 

Resting your back on it you let out a heavy sigh, your chest moving as your head fell back, thudding against it softly as you played with your fingers. 

“Why’re you up?” 

You almost yelped but controlled the urge as you jumped in your spot, eyes darting around till they found a faint mop of white hair to your left. He was prodding at the last embers of the fire with a metal pipe, moving them around as they made soft crinkling sounds with his every move. You wondered to yourself, both in shame and worry, how you had somehow failed to miss that.

“Were you watching me?” You whispered, wincing as you tried to lower the volume, scoffing at that being the first thing that came to mind. 

“I am on watch duty.” He said, his voice tinged with a bit of sarcasm as his brow raised a little bit. You could barely make him out with your limited vision, but you could tell from where he was standing that he was only a couple of feet away from you. 

“You didn’t answer my first question.” He reminded you after a beat of silence, his voice low as he tried not to wake anybody up. 

You yawned, shrugging as you picked up a rock not to your thigh, moving it around in your hand as your fingers ran along its smooth and imperfect crevices, its cool touch calming you down a little bit. 

“Can’t sleep.” You responded after a bit of thinking, but it really was the truth. Maybe a simplified version of it, but it caused him to let out a quiet scoff, obviously not satisfied with your lazy response. 

“Insomnia or bad dreams?” 

You laughed a bit, your lips quirking at the edges as you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. 

“You would have made a spectacular doctor.” 

He took in a sharp breath of air and you laughed, stifling your giggle with your hand. His reaction telling you he obviously didn’t want that knowledge to be spread around. 

“Swear to god, that’s all she told me though.” You say, holding up your hands as if a pledge of your honesty though you doubted he could even see it. You heard him snort, obviously not buying it but not saying anything about it as he pushed at the coals around a little more. 

A small rush of wind moved the dust and twigs next to you, the whooshing sound somewhat tranquil as it filled the silence. It wasn’t awkward like you thought it’d be, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was a place right in the middle, but it was better than your past three interactions with him. 

You tried to squint, trying to make out his features. He was attractive, that much you could admit. Even if you met him before seeing a man became a rare occurrence you would have had the same thought. His frame was sturdy, lean, and tall. He filled out his clothes rather nicely, and his face was passive and a grimace away from forming a scowl, but you could tell he once used to laugh a lot more if the smile lines told you anything. 

You wondered if the name Emi had anything to do with him losing his smile. 

“Tell me something about yourself then.” 

A shocked laugh threatened to bubble out of your throat at his sudden statement. 

“W-Why?” You stuttered out with a laugh, confused as you shifted where you were sitting, tilting your head a little bit to the side, wishing he’d move so you could see clearly just who it was you were talking to. 

“You know too much about me,” He said as if it was obvious, shrugging his shoulders as he set the metal pipe down gently to not make any noise, “I don’t know anything about you. Other than you can’t sleep and are learning to talk more.” 

A part of you wondered if he was being genuine or trying to be snarky. 

But you just snorted, rolling your eyes at the absurdity of this as you threw your hands, looking up as you thought for a second for something interesting yet boring enough to shut him up so you could have some quiet time. 

“I can only eat semi-sweet or dark chocolate. Milk’s a little too sweet for me.” 

You could hear a snort in response, probably the first you’d ever heard from him as he shuffled around a little bit, his shadow moving a little bit closer to where you were sitting. The ray of moonlight illuminated part of his face, his white lashes fluttering against his cheeks as you watched him rest his chin on the palm of his hand. 

“Seems like we’re complete opposites there,” He admitted, his lips threatening to tug into a smile, but he controlled it as if he didn’t want you to see that part of his hidden emotions.

“Then I’ll give you any milk chocolate bars I find.” 

He huffed, a part of his lip caught under his teeth as he considered the thought. 

“Is that good enough for you?”

He shook his head quickly, comically as you sighed, some sleep finally settling in as you rub at your forehead. You could feel the headache coming from a mile away. 

“Need something more personal,” He retaliated, moving a little bit so that he wasn’t putting all his weight on his arms, his toned chest moving as he resituated himself. You tried to not make it obvious that you were staring, “What’s your favorite color?” 

“Well now you’ve gone too far,” You say with a little laugh, the most genuine one you’ve had in a while. You miss the way his face almost mirrors yours, the edges of his lips threatening to pull up into a grin as you smile. “I like yellow.” You finally answer, your smile faltering as you think back. 

“Any particular reason or do you just like the color of piss?”  

“I had this perfume bottle, I got it for my birthday when I was twelve. The actual perfume smelled disgusting but the bottle itself was this glass-stained yellow, a soft yellow that I haven’t seen anywhere else.” You explained, bringing one leg up to your chest, and wrapping your arms around it to steady yourself. 

“What about you?” He shook his head, waving his pointed finger around, clearly not answering a question yet. 

“No, still on you. Where were you when this all started?” Gojo asked, and the jump from the previous question to this one took you off guard. If you were counting correctly he had two more facts above you than you did for him, but you indulged him, having nothing better to do with your time. 

“At home. I was watching TV with my dad when they broadcasted that signal,” You paused, the memories flooding back as you tried to blink them away. The car, your neighbors who were already infected, “You?” 

For a second you thought he wasn’t going to answer but he shifted, running a hand through his hair as he whistled quietly, thinking.

“I was in a lecture hall.” 

“For your doctor lectures?” 

He chuckled, for the first time since you’ve known him, shaking his head as he eventually nodded, knowing that you were probably never going to give up the information. You watched as he rested his chin on his palm, the new angle giving you a better view of him and you felt your cheeks heating up under his gaze. 

“Yeah,” He couldn’t fight the smile anymore, his face turning softer as he smirked, “For my doctor lectures.”

“Go sleep,” He said after a heavy beat of silence, his voice softer as he watched you wipe at your eyes, a big yawn escaping your mouth as you blinked tiredly, “It’s almost morning.” 

You shake your head, wondering why a part of you was disappointed that he was right. As you stood up, wiping the dust from your pants as you shuffled your way around some bricks, finding your way back to your sleeping bag (with more difficulty than you’d like to admit), and threw it over your body. You could feel his eyes burning on your back, but you shut your eyes and pretended that you were asleep.

A couple of weeks after that night and you wondered if you had somehow passed a test.

While he still didn’t speak much to you, he wasn’t cautious nor weary when he did. 

Gojo still didn’t laugh or smile much, but his little grin was less guarded when you spoke to him. Maybe it was to save you the pity of your awful jokes, but a part of you felt happier knowing he warmed up to you a bit.

“You just haven’t heard these puns yet,” You argued one day, pulling out the book you found when you scavenged through an abandoned store about a week ago. It had water damage and some of the words you could barely read, “Okay, okay, what about this one? 3.14% of sailors are Pi-rates. Huh?” You looked up at him, wiggling your eyebrows only to see him with a disgruntled look, staring down at you as he shook his head in disappointment. 

“None of these should have been published.” He argued, and although he sounded disgruntled, there was an edge of him holding back a laugh. 

“Oh, I like this one!” You exclaimed with a giggle, Vera looking back at the two of you as she smiled to herself, nudging at Geto so he could see too, “What do you use to cut a Roman Emperor's hair?” He didn’t say anything for a second so you lightly kicked his shin, waiting for an answer.

“I don't know, scissors?” You grinned, shocked at how close he was.

“Almost, the answer is Ceasers,” You revealed with a giggle, showing Gojo the book as he sighed, rubbing at his forehead in faux annoyance. You put the book in your back pocket, careful when you fold it, wanting to save the rest for later, “Don’t worry, I’m saving the best for last.” You patted the pocket as he laughed, excusing himself as Geto called for him to check something out on the map. Your foot almost slipped when you walked on some grass, wet from the rain last night, and his hands soft out to grip your elbows, steadying you as you thanked him. Your skin felt like it was on fire from where his lingering touch was, and you looked away, hoping he couldn’t pick up on the embarrassment. 

“Y/n, can you come here for a ‘sec?” Anna called your name, ushering you over as you looked around to see her walking a little bit behind you. And you made your way over to her, readjusting your backpack as your shoulder sunk a bit from how heavy it was. 

She offered you a small smile, though you could tell she was thinking a lot of things through. You noticed that when that line appeared down the middle of her brow, it meant that she was deep in thought. That, or she was mad. But with the way her fingers danced on her arms in discomfort and her eyes darted around the rest of the group, you wanted to bet that she was going through it.

“What’s up?” You finally asked, just hoping there weren't any more questions about how difficult it was traveling alone.

“I’ve seen that you and Gojo have gotten closer, w-which is great! Don’t get me wrong!” She sputtered, shooting you a quick grin that didn’t quite meet her eyes, “But I feel like I should let you know…” 

When she didn’t finish you raised a brow, wondering what could possibly be so bad. 

“Do,” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she shook her body, deciding to just get it over with, “Do you remember that one night? In that apartment lobby?” 

You almost laughed. How could you forget?

“Yeah…vaguely,” That was a fat lie. It was all you could think about in these following weeks. Your conversation with both Vera and Gojo plagued different parts of your mind for different reasons. 

“Listen, I couldn’t help but overhear ‘Ver, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but…” She trailed off, gnawing on her lip as her eye twitched, “I heard her say Emi and I know she brushed it off but I feel like you deserve to know about it. You’ve been with us long enough so that I can trust you with this.”

Was it really that easy? You didn’t say anything, hoping the slight excitement and anticipation on your face wouldn’t scare her away as you gave her the time she needed until she continued. She took in a deep breath and started.

“I’d known Emi for a long time now - gosh, probably over a decade at this point. She was nice, but she had her own flaws, but she was my only friend so I ignored them. When this,” She motioned her arms around you, “Whole thing happened, she was the only one I had. We were planning on going to a quarantine zone in Tokyo but it fell almost immediately, so we just went wherever we could.

“We met up with those guys a couple of months later. Maybe two, two and a half years ago?” She thought back, shaking her head because it wasn’t important to fixate on, “And they took us in. They were all really nice, including ‘Toru.

“After a while, he and Emi got closer, and for that while, it was just a fling that would pass the time. But they cared for each, it was pretty obvious. Or from what she told me, it sounded like they did. But,” She bit her cheek, playing nervously with her fingers as she looked up at you, “it was hard. They fought. A lot,”  She gave a humorless laugh as she looked back on it, “Day in and day out. They fought over the smallest of things. I swear, I don’t know how-” She stopped, apologizing as she got back on track, “Anyways, what I’m trying to get at is that one of these fights got bad. I can’t even remember what it was about. Food? Maybe clothes? Doesn’t matter. It got big and they said some shit neither of them meant, but Emi left. She said she was leaving, but nobody believed her. She always said shit like that. But she did, she left and we didn’t see her for a couple of days.

“‘Toru was really worried, never seen him so scared before. He went out looking for her and came back a week later. He told us she was bitten, late in the stages of infection. He said he had to…” She trailed off, voice catching in her throat and you quickly looked for a tissue, as she gratefully accepted it.

“I see the way you try to make him laugh, I know, but Emi took that part of him. He wasn’t the same after she left, and I don’t think he ever will be. So just - don’t get your hopes up when you’re around him, okay?”

“I, um, okay…?” But you didn’t even know what you were agreeing to. You just knew that Anna nodded, thankful that you heard, and the two of you made your way back to your group. Maybe it was the way your face had lost all the laughter it had just a couple minutes ago, or that Anna somehow managed to see what you were trying to do, but Gojo glanced at you, his brows furrowing together in slight worry. 

You don’t know why the information affected you so much. It could have been just from how shocking it was to hear it, or the fact that Anna could tell that you were trying to get him to smile more. It made sense, the more you thought about why he was the way he was, but you still felt a part of you crumbling at the thought. Even if you never met Emi, you couldn’t definitely feel her presence after she was gone. 

What? He mouthed, altering his steps so that he could weave around Geto to get closer to you. But you shook your head, reassuring him to stay where he was as you gave him a curt nod and a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. 

It’d be over soon, you told yourself. After you get to the camp in Takayama, it’d be big enough to go your separate ways. You’ll forget the last five years, forget everything you’ve gone through, and start something new.

If not, you’d rather just get bitten and get this hell over with. 

“What’d she tell you?” 

Gojo cornered you when they were all asleep, the tall trees surrounding you casting shadows over his face. You didn’t light a fire this time, Geto saying it’d be safer if you just used flashlights instead. You knew the infected had bad eyesight, relying on sound more than anything, but that didn’t mean raiders couldn’t see. 

There was no point in lying, he’d sniff it out immediately if you did, so you shrugged, glancing to the side as you blindly moved around leaves, trying to be quiet to get away from the group in case any of them were awake. 

“Nothing important,” You muttered, glad it was dark for once so that he couldn’t see your reaction and vice versa. 

“Bullshit,” His voice was low, your eyes slightly widening in surprise at his reaction, “Wouldn’t have been nothing if you looked like that afterwards.”

Though you could barely see anything, you could feel his presence. He took up a lot of space, and you could practically feel how his hands were only a little distance away from yours. His fingers were inches away from your wrist, and you knew that because when you moved you could feel the light indent, a slight burn as if he’d set your skin aflame. 

“Nothing important to you.” You specify, crossing your arms across your chest as you heard him scoff, his jaw ticking as he prodded at his cheek with his tongue.  If only your past self could see you now, arguing with a man who you thought only ever had two emotions he used on and off. 

He waited, hands on his hips as he tapped his foot impatiently on the ground, hanging his head down for a second until he looked back up. 

“Green.” 

You pause, brows creasing as you huff out a laugh. 

“What?” 

“Green,” He repeated, “That’s my favorite color.” When it dawns on you what he’s doing you have to contain the giggle that slipped past your lips, covering your mouth when your hands as you continue to laugh. 

“Why’re you laughing?” He asks, his voice genuinely confused as you laugh more, holding onto a tree trunk to steady yourself, “W-what?” But you hear the soft inflection of a laugh in his voice now, almost as if he is trying to control it as you wave your hands, trying to make it stop but you just hit his hands in the process.

“So you refuse to tell me and you hit me in the process?” Any seriousness has dropped from him completely and you laugh through your hands, trying to apologize but your cheeks hurt. It wasn’t that funny, really you don’t know why you’re reacting this way, but it’s that feeling when you start laughing, and it grows out of control for no reason. 

“I-I’m sorry!” You wheeze out, trying to find his hands to apologize but he brings them to your mouth. It was dark so you couldn’t see, but his eyes darted around, suddenly realizing how loud you were being. 

“Sssh, be quiet.” He hissed out, and you giggled again, licking the palm of his hand as he gave a muted yelp, bringing it close to his chest as he wiped it on his pants. He looked back up at the outline of your shadow, glaring. 

“You’re a fucking child, y’know that?” He groaned, but his words didn’t quite match what his face was because his eyes softened at the sound of your laugh, carefree as you failed at trying to control it. 

“Admit it, I’m funnny,” You drawled out, laughing as you hunched over a little bit, waving your finger around somewhere near his face, “You’re laughinggg because I’m funnny.” You stated, tugging on his fingers playfully, and he snorted, gently swatting your hand away as he sighed. 

“You’re insufferable is what you are.” Is what Gojo finally landed on.

“Tell me something more personal and I might tell you.” You poked his chest, repeating his own words back to him as you leaned back on the tree. You had no intentions of revealing what Anna told you, but you wanted to see how far he’d go to know. 

“You’re impossible,” He muttered, running a hand through his hair, debating whether or not it was even worth it to tell you something when he knew damn well you weren’t going to give any information up.

“I’m scared.” He heaved in a sigh and you cut him off with a chortle. 

“Everybody’s scared-” 

“Of ending up alone.” He finished, brow raising as your laugh quickly died down, some fort of satisfactory grin that didn’t mirror the gloom in his eyes made its way onto his face as he asked, “What? Cat got your tongue?”

“No,” You quickly say, rubbing at your jaw as you take a set back, easing on the trunk as you duck your head down in embarrassment, crunching some dead leaves under your boot, shame riding up your bones as you lamely shrug, “Just wasn’t expecting that.” You mutter, looking up at him from the corner of your eye. 

He chuckles, taking a step closer, his breath hitting your cheek. 

“What? Expecting me to say spiders? The dark?” You can feel his slender fingers a hairs distance away from your arms, careful not to touch you, but still close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of him. 

“No,” You shudder, both from the cold and from him, “Thought you were ‘gonna say med school or something.”

He lets out a big groan, hands gingerly gripping your elbows as his head falls on your shoulder, fighting his smile as you laugh again, muffling it with his coat as you gently pat his back. 

“Where do fruits go for vacation?” Your hand stalled on his back, feeling his slumped form take in a deep, steadying breath. 

“Where?”

“Pear-is.” You heard him mumble something on your shoulder, giggling as he shook his head in mock dismay. But this was different than all the last times, you could tell. His back shook a little, and he refused to look up. 

You didn't comment on the tears that began to stain your shirt, or his quivering chest every time he breathed. So you wrapped your arms around his back, squeezing a little bit, feeling his arms snake around your waist as he tugged you just a little bit closer. 

Even though it didn’t feel like a lot of time had passed, it had almost been six months since you began traveling with them. The journey would have been far faster if any of the cars worked, but Takayama was only a few weeks away. According to Geto. 

Gojo walked up next to you, shoving something in the pocket of your coat. You look at him from the side of your eye, digging it out to see a chocolate bar as he looks away, a little smirk on his face as you lightly elbow his side. 

“Can literally hear your stomach begging for something,” He teased, his face stoic but his voice lighthearted as you laugh, grateful even if you didn’t show it as you opened it up, noting that it was dark, telling him thanks with a mouthful of chocolate. 

“Want some?” You offered, holding the bar out as he declined, shrugging, “Suit yourself.” You muttered, mouth full of the sweet as you finished the rest of it. He felt his eyes lingering on your lips stained with the chocolate as Gojo dryly swallowed, averting his gaze as he looked somewhere else, his cheeks colored light pink. 

“I think we’re the chosen ones,” Geto stated, walking around freely as he pointed to all of you including himself. Your group made it out of the forest a couple of days ago, so he’s been living his life, trying to enjoy the run-down towns as much as he could before you went into the forests again until you reached Takayama. 

“God, you’re so fucking stupid Suguru,” Vera said, shoving past him as she rolled her eyes, taking a bite out of her protein bar as she shared a knowing look with you, the two of you laughing as Geto tried to explain himself. 

“No, no, hear me out. Aside from me, you and ‘Toru, y/n, and Anna come from different places. But we all somehow found each other, and as a group, are going to the chosen place.” He concluded, wiggling his eyebrows as everybody else just groaned as he went on another one of his tangents. 

“No, really, think about it,” He tried to catch up to her pace, walking backward so that he could also look at all of you when he spoke, “We’ve all been picked through natural selection. These past five, six, years and we survived them. We-”

He stopped, and all of you stopped in your tracks when you heard the dreaded sound. 

Clicking. Groaning. 

“Oh fuck,” Geto stopped, everybody, drawing out their weapons as you tried to figure out where it was coming from. Your heart was rattling inside your ribcage, your hands fumbling as you tried to find your gun. It had been so long since you’d encountered an infected that you were naively beginning to think that they had just disappeared. 

“It’s okay,” Gojo muttered, glancing over to you as he held his hand on yours, trying to calm your shaking down a bit, “You’re ‘gonna be okay.” He was so sure of it that you almost believed his words. 

But long gone was the carefree attitude as the clicking got louder both in volume and in amount. 

“Shit,” Gojo looked over to Vera, “How many d’you think there is?” The clicking got louder, your fingers trembling over the trigger as you looked at the abandoned city hall, finally locating where it was coming from. He told you that she was the best shooter they had, and she was far more confident in taking clickers and runners down than anybody else was.

“Too many,” She called back, eyes darting from everywhere, looking for somewhere to escape from, “Fuck, we ‘gotta split.” You guys were in an alleyway, stuck between taking the road and going through a hole in one of the walls. But from where you could tell, taking the road was only going to direct you toward the infected. The wall still gave them an opening to wherever you guys planned to run from, so in some way, you were cornered. 

“What?” He called out, taking a step back, his brows furrowed in confusion, “No way, we can’t-”

“Listen to me. Here, take my map,” She threw it over to him and he caught it, mouthing confusion but she shook her head, “Suguru and I can hold them off for right now, but you take Anna and y/n. If we can’t find-”

“We’re not going to fucking leave!” He shouted back, raising his voice to be heard over the number of infected, his cheeks tinged pink as you nodded, not trusting your words as you felt your stomach churn. 

“If we can’t find you, meet us in Takayama! Don’t look back, just keep running north!” She motioned down the street, “I can radio with Anna, don’t worry!” She was trying to shove him but he wouldn’t move. 

“Vera, I’m not leaving you guys-” But he was cut off by an animalistic roar, everybody’s attention shooting back to the noise, his words dying down in his throat as you saw a glimpse of the infected. 

You would never get over the way they looked. You thought you’d be used to it by now, but it never fails to make your hands clammy and you're overall nauseous. They had large fungi popping out of their cranium, their clothes all battered and bloody. They ran so fast that you wondered if they were created just to outrun the human race, but now wasn’t the time for it. All you could hear was their and Vera’s screams. 

“Satoru,” She took his arm, holding it in a tight grasp as her eyes darted from him to them, seething from between her teeth, “Take them. Don’t - don’t regret it like you did last time. You couldn’t… but…you can save them. Go. Please.” 

He glared at her, eyes hiding a different meaning than what his face showed, nostrils flaring but he stopped. He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, muttering out a barely audible I’m sorry, looking at Geto as he gave him a small nod, holding his position down as he waited to buy you guys some time. 

He grabbed your wrist, urging Anna to follow him as Vera and Geto began to block you guys.

“W-wait, no, no, let go of me!” You tried to wrangle out of his iron grip but he was insistently dragging you away as you kicked, your eyes welling up, fear overtaking your body as they ran, coming closer and closer to the five of you as Gojo tried to lead you through the hole in the wall.

“Go with him, please, we’ll be okay,” Vera urged as Geto began firing, memories, similar moments cursing through your mind as you got the worst sense of deja vu. You almost felt like collapsing had it not been for Gojo’s steady hand, leading you away. 

You cried out for them one last time but he already pulled you through, Anna not too far behind as you held onto him for support, your mouth open as you looked back at him, slowly beginning to realize what happened. 

A couple of hours later and you couldn't feel your legs, wordlessly putting Gojo in charge of finding a house to stay at to stay the night. 

It was in some run-down town, but many of the homes are still standing. It was probably some of the best pieces of architecture you’ve seen so far, meaning that most of the paint was still on and the furniture wasn’t entirely moth-eaten.

The one Gojo picked was at the end of a cul de sac, seemingly standing unharmed. Vines grew uncontrollably from the sides, and the house was caked with dirt, but you’d take it. He scooped it out, making sure there weren’t any infected hiding in any of the dark rooms, but he gave you two the okay signal and you camped out there for the night.  

It was stocked with water and canned food, some chairs knocked down and carpets scrunched up as if the previous owners were trying to leave in a hurry. All the rooms seemed fine, and you just picked a random one as you threw your bag in, not caring as you made your way downstairs to where the rest of them were. 

You found them in the living room, the shutters closed, hints of the afternoon sun peeking through. Gojo glanced over at you, his eyes running over your body, quickly scanning to make sure you weren’t hurt.

You made your way to a chair, rubbing your hands over your face as if that could wake you up from this living nightmare. 

“They’re okay. They’re gonna be okay.” Anna said, more to convince herself than the rest of you, nodding as she said it again, but with no confidence. It wasn’t night yet, but Vera still hadn’t radioed in, anticipation deep in your throats as your wall stared at the portable radio Anna placed on the coffee table. 

Gojo sat there, his legs spread out, an elbow on each knee as he rubbed at his mouth, eyes distant, lost, as he stared at nothing. 

You could only imagine how he feels. No matter the sorrow you felt, he felt it tenfold. You’d only known them for a couple of months, a year at most, but he’d known them their entire lives. His shoulders sunk as if the guilt he was feeling was already pushing down on him. 

Even though you didn’t know much about Emi, the hurt he carried from her was visible and inevitable. You didn’t know just how much something like this would change him if he’d ever forgive himself if something were to happen to them. 

You cleared your throat, not able to bear it anymore as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. 

“Despite whatever happens, I just wanted to say thanks for getting us out. I don’t think I could have walked, let alone fought, so…thanks.” You address Gojo, watching as Anna nodded in agreement, shooting him a smile that quickly died down when she saw his face.

He dropped his hands, his eyes shining with a different sort of gleam as you took a step back, your brows and eyes squinting at the odd look. 

“Vera and Geto might be dead. They might be dead because I was too fucking scared to stay and do anything to help. We don’t know where the fuck we are… and you’re thanking me?” 

You stuttered, confused as you shared a glance with Anna as she slowly moved from her seat. 

“I-I, well, I’m not trying to undermine what they did,” Your head tilted, your voice gentle, knowing that he was surely dealing with every possible ounce of guilt and anger under the moon right now, wishing you just stayed quiet. But you’d already opened your mouth so you had to continue, “I’m just saying thanks because you helped us. That’s all-”

“Help,” He repeated, giving an emotionless laugh as he stood up, shaking his head as his hair followed his every movement, “I ran away. I didn’t help.” 

“‘Toru, she’s right, just - just calm down, come on,” Anna interjected, her eyes darting from him to you, offering you an apologetic smile on his behalf. 

“She has no idea what she’s talking about. Fuck,” His voice broke, looking away as he tried to wipe his tears, “It’s like….” He didn’t finish but you knew he was going to say It’s like Emi, judging from the way Anna tried to comfort him. 

“You’re,” You said slowly, not wanting to anger him any more than he already was, “You’re right. Most of the time I don’t know what I’m talking about, but I understand, and I know it’s not easy and-”

“You know? You know? Fuck y/n, what do you know? What could possibly make you understand?” You’ve never seen him like this, never had the honor of having his words cut you, sawing at your skin until they made you bleed. 

You scoffed, not knowing if he was being serious, but he stared at you waiting for an answer. 

“Let me see,” You give a meaningless laugh, wiping at your eyes, trying your best to not cry in front of him, not wanting to show him that his words didn’t affect you the way that they truly did, “I thought I was allowed to understand after my dad killed himself. Or maybe it was when my friend tried to kill me because I ate her fucking can of tuna,” You paused, choking on a sob, “O-or when my group left me in the middle of fucking nowhere, saying I was dead weight,” You sniffled, your voice wavering as you shook your head, pointing a finger at Gojo’s chest as you stared at his blank face.

“Just because you’ve been through shit doesn't mean that I haven’t. So - so don’t tell me that I don’t understand, because I do. It’s just, I don’t go treating people I know like shit just because of it.” A tear trickled down your cheek, hanging on your chin before it splattered on the ground. 

Your chest heaved, hands trembling as you heard Anna mutter a muffled oh my god. You didn’t want pity, you didn’t want any of their sympathies. But after so many years of carrying it around silently just for him to say that you don’t understand opened up the floodgates. 

You went to say something else, opening your mouth before you shut it again, lips wobbling as you shook your head, ducking it as you made your way for the stairs. You tried to zone out Anna’s calls for you to come back as you found the room you assigned yourself and shut the door with a loud slam, rattling the house.

Anna came by, asking if you were hungry, but you just brushed her off, saying that you’d come down to eat later. 

It was true, you couldn’t stomach anything right now, but you didn’t want to see anybody after that. 

You paced around the room, doing anything to occupy your mind and get rid of the thoughts coursing through your head. You packed your bag, which wasn’t even yours, you wanted to guess that in the rush of leaving you accidentally packed Geto’s because yours sure as hell didn’t have a pack of cigarettes and condoms in it, (you’d put all your money on the fact that him and Vera were hooking up), unpacked, and re-packed it. You folded some clothes lying around, washed your face with the water from the bottles you found, and tried to freshen up. Your eyes were still a little puffy and red, but you knew it would go away quickly. 

You looked through the closet and did anything you could think of. You didn’t really have the heart to take anything, knowing that somebody cared for these things at one point, but you snooped around, having nothing better to do. 

From what you could deduce, a teenager probably lived in the room. Band posters were plastered on the walls, the bed had some stuffed animals still left on it. You could remember the initial broadcast saying to take only what was necessary, so it made sense why the closet was mainly empty but the other aspect of the room seemed untouched. 

You looked at some of the books they had, pulling them out of the shelves as you read the titles. Some you knew, some you didn’t. The window adjacent to the bookshelf showed you an outside view of the neighborhood, the moon shining bright as you relied on that and your flashlight to move around. 

As you went to put a book back you heard a knock at your door, startling you as you dropped the book on the ground. You grumbled in annoyance, glancing at it and then back to your book. 

“I’m still not hungry,” You called out, bending down to grab it as you sighed, “But thanks,” You put it back where it was, wiping at your face as you navigate around the bed, going to open the door to let her in, “Hey, have you heard anything from…” You trailed off, not expecting to see a taller figure in Anna’s place. 

You met his eyes, the same ones that managed to knock the air out of your lungs. His gaze softened upon the sight of your face, but you wouldn’t let that dictate your feelings. No, you refused. So instead, you quickly gathered yourself, squinting your eyes as you went to shut the door, not quick enough as he was able to wedge his foot in between, whimpering a bit as you still tried to slam it shut with it in the way. 

“Ow, fuck, wait,” His hand gripped the side of the door, and you rolled your eyes, sniffing once as you let him open it himself, knowing that he’d just find another way inside if you blocked this one, “Listen,” He invited himself in, a hint of pleading in his voice as he looked at you, “Anna got Vera’s message. They're,” He sighed, his shoulders sagging a bit, “They’re fine. Little shakin’ up, but they’re gonna be okay. Said to meet up with them at the camp.” 

Your eyes and mouth slightly opened, your anger with him disappearing for a second as you smiled softly to yourself. 

“That’s great,” You breathed out, not knowing how to handle this, almost all the stress leaving your bones as you gave yourself a moment to relax, “Great news.” You gave him a curt smile, glancing at the door, wondering if that was all he came here for. 

His eyes traveled from your face, stalling on your puffy lids as he slightly grimaced. He looked around the room, noting all the décor, posters, and memorabilia. You could tell he was struggling to find something to say, opening his mouth only to close it just as quickly. 

“Thanks for letting me know,” You start, your hands hovering over his chest as you try to push him out, “But I wanna be by myself right now, so…” You nodded to the door, waiting for him to get the hint and go.

“Are you leaving?” He asked suddenly, his brows furrowed, creasing down the middle as glanced at your face at your packed bag behind you. You saw his lips trembling, hands moving up to gently cup your elbows, almost as if he needed to, or else he’d crumble over. 

“What?” You look back confused as to what he was talking about, shaking your head, “I was jus-” 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, so so sorry sweetheart, I swear, I d-didn’t know you went t-through all that shit,” His voice cracked, his legs moving faster than his body as you backed up against the bed, alarmed at his sudden change in mood, “Even if I did, I-I should never have said that to you. I’m so fucking sorry, please, I didn’t mean anything I said. I was talkin’ out of my ass and being the biggest fuckin’ dick ever.” Gojo’s voice trembled as if he was on the verge of tears as you almost tripped, glad the bed was behind you as you fell onto it, the springs squeaking at the sudden movement. 

You watched as a giant of a man sank to his knees, grabbing your hands and holding them to his chest as his eyes watered, his lip wobbling as he almost pleaded for you to look at him and to hear what he was trying to say. 

“Look, I’m really, really sorry,” He crouched down, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, “Please don't leave. I’ll shut up for the rest of the way there and you’ll never-” 

“I’m not leaving,” You say with a small laugh, confusion laced in your voice, “I was bored so I packed. ‘S not even my bag, think I got Geto’s or Vera’s on accident.” You shrugged as you watched his face change. Morphing as he shut his mouth, his hands still trembling as realization washed over him, slowly only leaving embarrassment. 

“Really?” He asked, still not letting go of your hands you nodded slowly, heart beating rapidly in your rib cage as you waited for him to say something else. 

“Oh...” He the relief on his face is replaced with something different, “Okay,” He took in a deep breath, slowly letting go of your hands as he looked at the floor, some of his hair falling in his face as he finally looked back up, giving you a small apologetic smile, “Sorry, I didn’t…” He couldn’t finish, moving quickly to stand up, mumbling something to himself as he went for the door, stopping seconds before he opened it. 

“‘Toru?” 

His fingers danced over the doorknob, not turning back despite his every nerve telling him to look back at you. But deep down, he knew that if he did, it would all come crumbling down. That the wall he built so highly for himself would crack, and he’d have to face the realization that he cared for you. Cared so deeply for you that seeing your face, your eyes puffy from crying because of his words would be worse than if a scolding knife was to pierce his heart. Because no matter how hard he tried to convince his feeble mind that you didn’t matter to him, you did, and he could no longer hide behind a mask and pretend that you didn’t. 

“Now that I think about it I think you would have made a shit doctor.” You say, crossing your arms across your chest as you watch him turn around, his lips red, looking like he’d been repeatedly chewing on it. 

His hand fell from the doorknob, taking three quick steps to get back to where you were, his hands quickly going up to hold your face, eyes scanning yours as if waiting for you to say anything. But you couldn’t, not with the way he was staring at you. He always did a spectacular job of whisking your words away from a single glance. 

“You drive me crazy,” He muttered, his nose almost touching yours as your hands traveled slowly up his back, feeling your heart beating in your throat, “Whenever I see your face,” His thumb runs over the corner of your mouth, eyes falling on your lips, “I don’t what to do. And then you open your mouth and I don’t know if I want to laugh, cry o-or kiss you. And,” He sighed, a hand going behind your head so that you could look up at him, “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Without your gorgeous face, your pretty eyes, your laugh, your kind, kind heart. I’ll spend a fucking lifetime making up for all the shit I’ve done if it means you’d forgive me.” He was a breath away from your lips, if either one of you were to make a single movement it’d be over.

“Relax,” You say with a little laugh, your lashes fluttering on your cheek as you take a step back closer to the bed, “I’m not gonna make you grovel or anything. But if you’re offering something as forgiveness…” You trail off, not knowing how to word words as you push his head closer to yours. Your fingers play with his hair, tangling them back and forth to make little curls, your head moving on its own as you try not to give a stupid giddy smile. 

He leans in, finally closing that pesky gap between the two of you as you let out a little gasp until you melt against his chest, slowly working your lips against his. 

It’s hot, you don’t know how else to describe it. Weeks, months even, of pent-up tension are adding up here at this moment. 

He’s so gentle when he cradles your face, afraid you’d crumble away if he held you with any more pressure. But his kiss is anything but, aggressive and fast, not wanting to slow down as he tried to commit the feel of you to memory. 

He nips at your lips, now plumper and shiny with spit, pulling away slightly as he cradles his face to yours. His hands tug you into his body, cradling your jaw as he smiles, his eyes lidded as he looks down at you. 

Your hands are on his chest, slightly tugging at it as his smile grows, his cheeks all blushed out as you giggle, somewhat intoxicated by the feel of him. You’d imagine what he’d be like, sure, but the way he kissed or looked at you was nothing your imagination could have ever conjured up.

“Swear to god, if I ever say stupid shit you slap me, okay? Knock some sense into me,” He muttered, holding your cheeks, looking at you as if you had strung up the moon and the stars, and you probably did if you told him so. 

“‘M not gonna hit you, maybe just tell you some stupid puns till you realize what you’ve done.” You tease, watching as his head disappeared, your laugh turning into a muted moan as he licks a stripe across the expanse of your throat, gently biting down on your pulse point as he soothed it with a sloppy kiss. 

“‘Toru,” You can get out, collapsing on the bed as he gingerly pushes you onto it, feeling lightheaded as you watch him kiss down your arms, your hands, any area of naked skin he could find. It was exhilarating the way his lips felt on your skin. 

“You ‘wanna take that shirt off f’me?” He muttered, hands traveling up your stomach, nimble fingers dancing under the cup of your bra, “Or d’you want me to stop?” He’s slow and patient as you quickly shake your head, already getting to work at shedding off anything stopping him as he chuckles slowly, the sound just causing you to grow even wetter. You expertly unhook your bra from your chest, watching as it falls down into your lap, suddenly aware that your top half is fully bare to him. 

But he doesn’t say anything, his body almost malfunctioning at the sight of your bare tits. You almost go to cover them, conscious of his heavy stare, but he gently grabs your wrists, pushing them aside as he moves closer to you, his breath hitting your collarbone as he stifled a groan. 

“Fuck,” He says, not even fully paying attention as he quite literally goggles at your breast, his fingers tugging at your nipples, thumbing at them until they’re slightly swollen, letting his hands run over them as he feels his cock straining in his pants, “S-shit, you’re so fuckin’ perfect.” He whispers, glancing up at you only to see your head thrown back, finger grasping his as you try to make him work faster, pushing them down to the buttons of your jeans as he chuckles, patting your waist once as if to tell you he understands. 

He gets to work, quickly getting them off of you, your underwear with it, eyes darkening as he notes your slick between your two puffy lips, gripping onto your thigh with every possible amount of self-restraint he has. 

“If you don’t hurry up I’ll just tell you a bad pun n-now to get it over with. Fuck just - just touch me already!” You threaten, glaring at him as he snorts, fingers traveling up to cup your cunt as you suddenly gasp, your teasing tone dropping at the euphoric sensation.

“Where?” His thumb slowly rubs at your clit, using some of your slick as he goes at his own pace, enjoying how you paw at his biceps, gripping onto them with every ounce of strength you could muster, “Here?” He asks, using two fingers to pry your pussy lips apart, nearly coming in his pants as he did so.

“This what you want, sweetheart?” He asks, his pointer finger traveling up your slit, gathering all of your wetness as he groans, slowly pushing it in, testing your limits as you let out a wanton moan at the feeling. 

“Yes, yes!” You cry out, your hands gripping the sheets. He doesn’t need to be told twice to know that you’d probably wring him out to dry if he doesn’t pick up his pace. 

But he wants to be slow, not wanting to hurt you as he pushes it in, inch by inch, until he curls it, your eyes rolling back, holding onto his wrist for dear life as you wait to adjust to it. 

“F-feels so good, hmm!” You squeal, your lips barely opening as he pushes the second one in, your words cut off by another moan, whining for him to go faster. You’ve been deprived for so long that you can’t even feel embarrassed at the needy way you yearn for him and his skilled fingers and touch. 

You’ve only ever been with one guy before, and he knew nothing about the female antonymy so you don’t really have much to compare him to, but Gojo knew what he was doing. He listened to your every sound, noting which places made your toes curl and eyes cross, becoming more and more familiar with your body. His white hair fell into his face as he paid attention to you, glancing up at your face every now and then to smile, wanting to make sure that you were okay. 

“Yeah? You’re squeezin’ me so much, fuck,” He starts pumping them in and out, the motion enough to make you go crazy, whining out pathetically as he picks up the pace a little bit, his thumb going to find you, “This pussy’s fuckin’ perfect, fuck, and she’s mine, y’hear?” He asks, only pumping into you faster, his thumb on your clit mirroring his ministrations as you cover your mouth with your hand, not wanting to be so loud that your cries could travel through the walls. 

“F-fuck, just yours! Promise!” You say, agreeing to anything he said, babbling nonsense as you feel your stomach clench, your back arching as he takes in the beautiful sight of you sprawled out like this, wanting to take a mental image to commit it to heart.

“Hmm, ‘Toru, I’m gonna, fuck, gonna…!” You can’t even finish your sentence, mewling at the way his relentless motions never stopped. 

It’s only a couple of seconds before you cry out, his other hand clamping to your mouth to muffle your moans, seeing white as you fall back onto the mattress, your chest heaving with every breath you take as your orgasm runs through your body. It was the most intense thing you’ve ever felt, your walls clamping down on his fingers as you creamed around them, your legs shaking as you moaned out his name. 

He stops, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he watches you struggle to catch your breath. 

“So fuckin’ stunning,” He says under his breath, bringing his fingers shining with your essence up to his lips as he sucks them clean, his eyes fluttering shut at your tangy taste, “Taste amazing too, sweetheart.” He takes his fingers out of his mouth, crawling up to your body, tapping on your lips so that they’d open. He pressed his fingers on your tongue, watching as you sucked on them, your eyes never leaving his. He moans, taking them out before he almost embarrasses himself by coming on the spot. 

But he stops when he feels his pants tighten around his crouch, wincing because he clearly didn’t think this through enough. His dicks feels like a heavyweight in his pants, and he can feel the strain. 

“What?” You sit up, worry lacing your features as you balance on your elbows, “What’s wrong?” You're now freaking out inside, thinking that he’s starting to regret this, or that he was drunk off the euphoria and now the realization is settling in.

“I don’t have a condom, and the only ones were in-”

“Geto’s bag?” You say with a chortle, pointing your chin at where the said bag was sitting, “Yeah, I know.” 

Gojo chuckles, patting your cheek as he presses a kiss to your lips, almost not wanting to break away as he tastes everything on them. The chapstick you put on that morning, the chocolate he gave you. Fuck, he can even taste your cum on them, and you have to give his chest a little nudge so that he doesn’t forget what he was going to do. 

He’s agile as he goes through the pockets, almost doing good at shedding off his clothes, grinning in triumph when he finally locates the pack. It gives you some time to really take in his features, gnawing on the inside of your cheek as your eyes rake over his torso, his defined chest that shines with sweat. You try your hardest not to linger longer on his dick, your mouth going dry at the sheer length of it. Despite him prepping you just a few minutes ago you still wondered how you’d be able to take him. 

“If you stare any harder you’re gonna make me blush.” He says, smirking as you discover you’ve been caught in the act. But the way he laughs boyishly at you quickly looking away makes up for it. 

“If you weren’t so pretty I wouldn’t be staring.” You counter, tracking him as he makes his way back to the bed, ripping the condom wrapper with his teeth as you swallow, moving so that your head rests on the board behind you as he grinned. 

“Me?” He cocks a brow, taking a couple of seconds to put the condom on his dick, his mushroom tip leaking with pre as she sucks in a breath at the feeling, hoping he wouldn’t nut too fast and embarrass himself when he was finally in you, “I’m gonna need you to take a hard, long look in the mirror then sweetheart.” 

You giggle, your eyes wrinkling around the edges as your cheeks glow. He moves above you, his own face plastered with a goofy smile at the sound of your laughter. He’d bottle it up if he could, save it for the days when he really needed to hear it. 

“No! I really mean it, you’re like, so fuckin’ hot, liked unbelievably hot.” You smile as he pecks your lips, grinning against his as he shakes his head in adorable defiance. 

“And I really mean it too,” He counters, his nose pressed against yours as you can’t help but bring him in for another kiss, your tongues meeting each other as he laps up your taste, kissing you so harshly that it knocked the wind right out of your lungs. 

When he pulls away a line of spit is connecting your lips to each other. Yours are swollen, almost bruised, but you welcome the slight sting, knowing what it was all for. After all, his are swollen and pink, so you slowly became drunk at the sight of it. 

His eyes travel to your tits and down to your stomach, gripping your waist as he kisses your collarbone, his hand gingerly rubbing up and down your skin, causing goosebumps to lie in their wake. 

He lined himself up with your entrance, your breath hitching in your throat as you felt his tip prod at your walls, and he groaned at the feeling, only imagining what it’d be like when he finally pushes through. 

“J-just fuck me already,” You whisper, your words circling through the two of you, “Please.” You add, and he shakes his head, knowing you’d never have to ask him when your honeyed words drove him to a near point of insanity. 

“Don’t have to beg sweetheart,” He says, pushing himself fully in, the two of you moaning out loud at the feeling.

You clamp down tightly on his dick, and despite him going in as slowly as you could he could feel you clenching around him. Your walls stretched to accommodate his size, and the slight pinch mixed with the godly feeling of having him fill you up almost caused you to pass out.

“Shit,” He can barely get it to pass his lips, finally bottoming out in your as your legs circle around his back, pulling him closer to your sweaty body as he places a hand near your head for leverage, “You’re so fuckin’ tight, squeezing me like that.” 

“Mmm, s’cause you’re so b-big,” You whine out, your nails raking down his back, leaving angry red lines. He stills, clenching his teeth as he tries to calm down, slowly pulling out before he slammed back into you. 

“Fuck!” You moan, holding onto his waist as he pistons into you, his dick shining with a mix of your own cum and wetness, glimmering in the limited light the moon offered. 

His hips slanted against yours, balls hitting your ass as he moved fast, like something in him just snapped, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. His dick could reach that part in you that just made you see stars, hitting it repeatedly until you swore your back could take it. 

“Oh, god, you feel so fuckin’ good, fuckkk,” He drawls out, his head falling into the crook of your neck, panting as his hands curled in the sheets, “You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me sweetheart,” He moaned against you, pressing sloppy kisses wherever he could. He trailed down your collarbone, all the way until he suckled on your breasts, pulling away so that he could give each equal attention. They glimmered with his spit, your areolas swollen from his constant motions. 

“Umph, ‘Toru, s’too much, o-oh!” You cried, the new angle he was at reaching even further and you questioned just how empty it was before him. He dragged through your walls, his thumb down at your clit, rubbing little circles as your eyes shut, too heavy with lust and you couldn’t even look down anymore, gripping onto his arms to stay afloat. 

“Just like that, perfect,” He talked you through it, one hand on your tit, the other busy with your clit, looking down to see his dick disappearing inside of you, going feral when he watched you becoming undone because of him, “Fuck, you’re such a good girl for m-me, y’know that right?” And you dumbly nodded, not able to speak, unintelligible words tumbling out of your mouth instead.

You didn’t expect your release to build up so quickly just after you had your last one, but Gojo was too good, an expert in knowing what places would scratch you in just the right way. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, your legs wrapping around him as you pulled him in even closer, tilting your head up so you could bring him in for another wet kiss. 

“M’gonna, fuck ‘Toru, m’gonna…” But you couldn’t finish, moaning against his lips as you came on his dick, his thumb not slowing down on your little nub as your legs shake from the feeling, eyes crossing as he smiles at the way you clamp down on him. 

“There you go, fuck, you’re so tight, fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna,” He tries to slow down but he can't, “Shit, shit, shit,” He stops, shooting his load into the condom as his hips stop, his chest heaving manically as he almost collapses onto your chest, your tits pressing against him as he takes a second to catch his breath.

The two of you can’t say anything, your hands wrapped tightly around his neck as you try to loosen up your body, your hair damp, the room stinking of sex and sweat as you try to come back to your senses. 

It doesn’t even feel real, but you watch through hooded eyes as he rises, pulling out of you as his dick hangs limp. He tugs the condom off, hissing at the feeling as he ties it, chucking it at a trash can he found near the desk as he looks back at you, giving you that same debonair smile that still managed to make your heart race despite everything. 

You throw a hand over your face, trying to hide it as he chuckles, giving your hips a firm squeeze as he kisses the side of your ear.

“I’ll be back, gonna get you some water ‘n clothes.” He says, tugging on his pants as he throws on his shirt laying across the floor, not bothering with any boxers as he winks at you, chuckling at the way you groan in embarrassment, tugging the covers over your naked body as if he hadn’t just seen you in your birthday suit. 

“And bring me some chocolate!” You call out, peeking your head out as he nods, shutting the door behind him as you look around, still trying to fathom what just happened. 

He reappears minutes later, one of his tees in hand, and a bottle with a bar in the other. He makes do with cleaning you up with a towel he found, wetting it with some water as he gently rubs it over your sensitive skin, apologizing when you wince, kissing the spots that are still tender. 

You're almost tapped out, too tired to see the lovesick look in his eyes when he pulls the shirt over your chest, laying you back down on the pillows as he rubs at your forehead, thanking his lucky stars for being able to see you look like this; so carefree and happy. 

There’s a lazy smile on your lips as you tug on his hand, not doing much work as you pull him closer to you. Although the bed wasn’t made to accommodate more than one person, he’d be damned if he let this opportunity slip through his fingers. 

“Did you watch Star Wars?” You ask sleepily, holding his hands as you play with his fingers, hearing him snort at the fact that you were still keeping this up. But you still wanted to make him pay, even if he just gave you two of the most earth-shattering orgasms you’ve ever received. 

“Used to, why?” He turns you over so you could face him, bringing up one of his fingers so that he could carefully trace out your features. 

“‘Cause Yoda only one f’me.” You barely get out, giving a little giggle as he pretends to hate it, still kissing your cheek as you slink against his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart lulling you to sleep. 

He follows you shortly after, his soft snores filling the room as you two sleep soundly. But in the dark, before he lets the sleep take a hold of him, he promises himself that he’d never let you go. He’d take you to Takayama, or wherever the fuck was necessary to keep you safe. He wouldn’t let you cry again, wouldn’t want to see the tears that stained your cheeks because he swore he’d never been in such pain seeing you like that. You were his other half, and no amount of cheesy puns, terrible jokes, or loving questions was going to change that fact. Because he knew that once he held the world in his arms he wouldn’t trade any fucking thing to let it go. 

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hello! I love your writing so much! It always gives me such a good chill and I absolutely adore the way the words all flow together! May I request a hero trying to escape from a villain and when the villain finally catches them there's a bit where they lift the hero's chin with a sword?

"Ah, good," the villain drawled. "You managed to apprehend our little runaway."

The hero grunted in pain, as the guards threw them down onto their knees. Their gaze darted around the room - a war room of maps and schemes too high up on the table for them to see properly, the dulled silver of the guards uniforms, and the perfectly polished leather boots standing not far ahead of them.

"Though not," the villain said, "without a little bloodshed, I see? Take yourself to the infirmary tent. I can handle him from here."

The hero's jaw clenched. They kept their head bowed, doing their best to keep their face obscured.

"My lord," the guard said.

As the room emptied, the hero tested the tightness of the ropes binding their wrists and ankles. They strained for the knots. No good. Before they could even start to rise, the villain had drawn their sword with a soft shick and pressed it to the hero's throat in one swift move.

"Suddenly shy?" the villain asked. "I was expecting spitted defiance and glares. Maybe some elegant spiel at what a monster I am and how I will never get away with this."

The hero said nothing.

The villain hummed, using the tip of the blade to tilt the hero's head up.

The hero braced themselves as their gazes met.

The villain froze.

The hero's lip curled; a smile most mocking.

"Guards!" the villain yelled.

The guards returned immediately from outside, even as the villain's attention stayed locked on the hero's face.

"Would you like to tell me," the villain's voice was silken, dangerous, "why you've captured the wrong person?"

"I - my lord?"

"This is not the prince. Do you not know your own prince?" the villain asked.

"But they - they wielded the royal blade, my lord - they -"

Power, dark and ominous, ripped through the room like a thousand shadowy swords appearing in the air.

The guards fell silent.

"Fooled ya," the hero rasped. "Sucker."

"Go to where you found them," the villain ordered. "The prince can't have got far-"

The guards stayed silent. They didn't move. The smile on the hero's lips grew a little more.

"What?" the villain snapped.

"They put up - that is - the fight and the chase went on for some time, my lord." The head guard sounded strained. "Any of their tracks would have been destroyed by our own. The prince is long gone, my lord."

The power struck in an instant.

The lead guard dropped, dripping blood from a thousand blade cuts. The hero managed not to flinch. Somehow.

"Would somebody like to try that again?" the villain asked.

"We'll find him, my lord," another guard said, pasty with sweat. "We'll go and look now."

Most of the guards left, on that hopeless errand. Someone dragged the head guard's body out. His blood was already beginning to turn inky.

The hero felt light-headed with a mixture of triumph and terror, as they eyed the villain over the hilt of their sword. The villain studied them in turn.

The running, after all, had been genuine. Escape had always been the plan. Still. They supposed the ruse had fulfilled its purpose either way, just so long as no one was stupid enough to come back for them.

"Who are you?" the villain demanded.

The hero shrugged.

The villain pressed the blade in a little harder. "Who. Are. you."

"I'm your tailor's assistant."

"...excuse me?"

"I help mend your clothes and the clothes of your soldiers," the hero said. "Thrilling, isn't it?"

The villain stared at the hero like they thought they might be joking. They weren't.

"You were skilled enough with a blade to fool my highest ranking officers."

The hero shrugged again.

The villain used the blade to tilt the hero's head the other way. "You really do look remarkably similar to the prince, on first glance."

"Bet you regret killing your own men in a strop now."

The villain draw the blade down again, opening the smallest wound. Blood pooled in the hero's collar bone, shimmering a faint, barely there silver.

"You're one of the king's bastards," the villain said.

The hero resisted the urge to swallow.

The villain's eyes narrowed, liquid shadow, as they seemed to consider their options, before a truly terrible smile flashed across their face. Charming. Beguiling.

They looked up at their guards.

"Take our little runaway to my quarters. Do make sure that they're secure this time, won't you?"

They definitely should have ran faster.

[infinitydivine]

Your Fated/ Destined Lover ❤️🫶🏼

Hello everyone, I am back again with a new PAC reading. Thank you all for loving my previous PAC, I appreciate it.

Choose your pile intuitively. Take what resonates and leave the other things. If you think this reading is not for you then choose another pile. If still it doesn't resonate then this might not be your reading. There are four Piles.

If this resonates with you, DM me to book a reading with me.

My Paid services Thank you for your support PAC Readings

Pile1-Pile2

Pile3-Pile4

PILE 1 ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

Hello Pile 1. Your person is someone who has recently completed a Karmic cycle. They are coming out of successfully completed Karmic cycles and have learned the lessons. They are very well-accomplished person. Might come from a wealthy background, but it seems to me that they have it all when it comes to earthly and materialistic things. They are often seen as someone very experienced in every aspect of life, especially in their professional life. But whatever they look like from the outside, they are generally an open-minded and loving person. Emotionally very stable. Even though they wear their heart on their sleeves they don't let their emotions control them. They have a warm essence to them which attracts many people to them.

Continued in Ko-fi post........

PILE 2 ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

Hello there Pile 2!

You got the same first card as Pile 1, if you are drawn to it you should definitely try it. Well, your person has recently completed a cycle of karmic lessons and has learned their lessons. They have ended a cycle. They are accomplished and well-rounded. They will make you feel complete because some of you might have been feeling kind of insecure within themselves lately?

They are someone who undergoes transformations continuously. They will not be the same person they used to be before. If you know them personally you will get what I am talking about. They constantly undergo multiple transformations that make them who they are right now. They are someone who is not afraid of changes. They might change their appearance a lot too. They are typically resilient, adapting to new phases of life with an understanding that change is a natural and necessary part of growth. This person often has a deep emotional strength, providing them with the ability to navigate through life’s transformations with grace .

Continued in the Ko-fi post.......

PILE 3☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

Number three, some of you might be coming from a difficult past. This person will be the new hope for you. They will bring new opportunities in material or financial aspects. Might be you will be partnering with someone new in the business ventures and then you will meet your future partner. They will be the beacon of light and positivity you are looking for in challenging times. They have the essence of optimism around them which will inspire you when you need them. They look like somebody who takes care of themselves a lot. They might be into skincare and healthy routines. They shine like a Star. Okay so for someone specific I am getting that this could be someone you already know or They are in the Public eyes/A Celebrity, Influencer.

Continues in the Ko-fi post.....

PILE 4 ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

The one word that I immediately heard was- straightforward. They prioritize their own mental and emotional health above all. Doesn't like to give a crap about what anyone thinks of them. They might look calm from the outside but have many turmoils going inside them at the same time. Their presence often radiates peace and detachment from daily life. Their presence can be uplifting and inspiring, providing a fresh perspective on emotional and artistic expression.

Continues in the ko-fi post...

[n3ptoonz]

'Anyone But You'

Pairing: Sub!Zero/GN!Reader (see what I did there)

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 1 (2023)

Warnings/tags: Smut, explicit. Rivals to lovers trope, very story and dialogue driven but there is smut at the end, handjob, Bi Han is a good boy, overstimulation, canon typical violence, Bi Han is a complex man in love, reader is a pyromancer, kinda proofread this took so long to write holy fuck

EDIT: I FREAKING FORGOT i was referencing THIS picture. starts wreaking havoc

Word count: 3.4k

Explicit content under the cut

"Just what I needed." Bi Han grumbled, his usual scowl apparent on his face at the sight of you approaching him. He always hated how much you were able to match his skills. Deep down, he might have respected that, but your attitude is what holds him from admitting it.

"Just what you wanted." you said, flashing a shit eating grin at the man in front of you. "Lord Liu Kang sure has his ways of bringing the gang back together."

"Another reason I can't stand him." he said, this time louder and shamelessly. He didn't even care if someone were to hear him nearby.

"What's the assignment for today? He hasn't given us an impossible task in a while-"

"He wants twelve of us to investigate Shang Tsung's laboratory experiments in Outworld and get samples. Problem is, it's heavily guarded by his minion freaks in and outside."

Despite him cutting you off mid-sentence, you just rolled your eyes and looked at the drawing he held up. He didn't make any eye contact with you until you took it from him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, voice filled with growing irritation. "Give it back."

"You weren't holding it right, so instead of asking you to flip it, I just took it. Quit your whining I'll hand it over once I get a good look at them."

He groaned, crossing his arms and waiting for you to finish. You really inspected their faces, impressed with how detailed they were.

"This isn't art class-"

"These are some really well drawn freaks of nature. Whoever did this captured their essence." you said, your tone genuine this time. This took Bi Han aback a bit, but not enough for you to notice. His eyebrows rested from his natural scowl upon hearing your indirect-direct compliment.

It was him who drew those atrocities with the finest ink from his late father's office, but he would never admit that. To be honest, he wasn't too fond of his own work and just passed it off as somebody else's from his clan.

He cleared his throat and took the paper back from your hands, "Yeah, yeah, just be ready to leave by sundown." he said, walking off to talk to the rest of the fighters in the group. When he took the paper, you noticed he had some black ink spots on the tips of his fingers, but you didn't bring it up. He's already constantly on edge so teasing him about something he actually put effort into was out of your forte.

It was nearing sundown and everyone was geared up including you. You grabbed your mask and choice of weapon, quickly putting on the all black uniform given since you all were heading out at night. Heading over to the table with the plans and formatting of the area, you could hear Bi Han discussing what's to come within the next 48 hours.

"This mission is going to be long, so listen closely. When we get there, we are to ambush the entrance to clear it of the guards occupying it. Then we wait to see if any alarms will set off before continuing into the corridor and clearing that too."

You listened to his plan, and to be honest, you didn't quite think going in with an aggressive approach would be effective.

"I feel like we should stakeout the front and sides to see the patrol patterns. If we just go in there setting shit off, surely we'd be fighting off an army of mutations, and who knows how long that would take."

Bi Han slowly raised his head, furrowing his brows. He always hated when you chimed in with something opposing his ideas, even if they almost always made sense.

"It would be easier to take them out when we get there. Plus, look at who we have on the team; our best twelve. I'm sure taking out some mindless freaks won't be hard." he said, glaring at you from the other side of the table. You placed your hands down and leaned forward, refusing to back down simply because he was in "in charge."

"Covering more of the area instead of running in blindly is more effective. We have 48 hours to get this done, what the hell are we storming the place for?"

"Because we have the reinforcements. Are you so incompetent that you question such a basic concept?"

"I think you forget, Bi Han, the last time we attempted to take down a semblance of organized criminals with just a few of us, not twelve--mind you--, a few of our people nearly got rag dolled to death. We had to retreat after taking a beating as soon as we arrived," you said, leaning in closer.

"It's ultimately up to you, but if you so much as get ran at by a gang of lab experiments, I won't be helping you."

Bi Han could only keep glaring at you behind his mask, the cryomancy in his veins creeping up as he gradually gets more aggravated. You were right, and that pissed him off, but he decided to leave that alone so the mission could just start already.

He watched the other members' reaction to you guys' interaction, and it looked like they agreed with you.

"Fine." he grumbled, "We keep watch to catch their patrol patterns, and attack once each group has established such. There's no need to report it since we'll be acting tonight. After that, we meet back here to report what we've found after looking around." he continued, pointing to a section of the laboratory.

"And make sure you take out everything you come across. Let out any prisoners too, but only after the fact so they don't get torn piece by piece by these abominations." you added, seeing Bi Han just nod and fully stand up, finalizing his statements and putting the plans in his pocket.

It didn't take long for you all to surround the general area, getting a closer look where the different parts of the lab would be. Albeit it didn't take forever in a night to get there, you and Bi Han had been bickering the whole time. Sometimes it was playful on your end, other times it was generally just annoying you how mean he was. If not for the rest of your members breaking it up, you'd have been arguing the whole way there.

Everyone else has split up for efficiency purposes...and to get away from you both.

You hid behind a tall bush that was easy to see through, watching for anyone and any thing that came by. Bi Han was nearby doing the same thing. You picked up on a couple of patterns that they patrolled in.

"I wonder if Shang Tsung is in there." you said to yourself, but loud enough for him to hear.

"He doesn't drop by at night. It's the whole reason we came at this time, don't you remember?" he said turning to you, his voice right back to his tone of irritation.

"Do you have to be an asshole all the time?" you turned to him and met his eyes focused on you behind his mask, "I wasn't even talking to you. Plus, I tune you out at any given opportunity."

He didn't respond immediately. Just slowly turned back without another word.

"You know, I'd be more willing to actually listen to you when you aren't calling me a moron."

"Maybe stop being a moron and I'll be a little more nice to you." he quickly replied, remaining away from your gaze.

You rolled your eyes and stood up, tightening the bandages over your knuckles.

"Why the hell do I even try with you? I too wonder just what Lord Liu Kang was thinking to put us together. Figure this shit out on your own." you said, getting low before moving to a different spot.

As Bi Han was about to respond, he noticed a suspiciously placed patch on the grass that you were approaching. In his mind, he figured you saw it already and wasn't going to say anything. You had gotten on his last nerve once again, so why would he help you?

You heard a faint voice calling out in the distance that was gradually coming closer. You looked in that direction since you recognized the voice; it was one of the guys running towards you and Bi Han and waving his arms.

"Trap! It's a trap!" he yelled, but he was still too far to hear. "Retreat!!"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Before you could even process the sound you were hearing, the surrounding area was set off by mini land mines while the building stayed in tact. You were able to dodge the patch that went off, but the aftershock caused everyone to be blown back a long distance from the laboratory, which eventually knocked you out from impact.

-

"Ugh, where am...I...?" you leaned up, wincing from the pain on your back and legs. The air around you was dusty, hazy, and heavily polluted by whatever the hell was in that debris. You looked around and could really only see the ground and the trees as far as your vision went before it looked light gray again.

You got up with the strength left in your body, aiming to find someone, anyone. Wandering around for so long caused you to have to pay attention to a body wound from the adrenaline dying down. You checked it out and realized it wasn't so bad, so you used pyromancy to close it up for the time being. It hurt like a bitch, but it worked.

You made the emergency call sound for anyone on your team to hear, still nothing. You tried again, only to hear heavy breathing and curses following after it.

"God damn it!" you heard, immediately thinking it had to be...

"Bi Han?" you called out, still holding onto your side while you walked towards the voice with high caution. Silence filled the air. This stubborn fucker...

"I know it's you, hard ass." you said, walking just close enough to see Bi Han leaning on a tree while holding onto his side. You'd be more concerned if he didn't not answer you on purpose.

Upon seeing your face, he was clearly not in the mood for your presence, especially at his most vulnerable state. The man was beaten up and in genuine pain, unable to tend to his own wounds, let alone stand.

Once you stopped in front of him he just looked away. He was embarrassed to say the least. Everyone else is usually hurt and he had to watch over/take care of them. But this time his own rival stood before him, just as beat up but still able to walk around.

"Who were you expecting to be here?" you asked.

"Anyone but you." he replied, clenching his jaw.

"That's no way to talk to someone who could help you. The other members are probably scattered somewhere looking for us and each other, but nowhere to be found." You paused in between sentences to see if he'd have anything to say, but he didn't budge not one bit. You noticed a deep gash on his arm and dried blood around where his ribcage would be under the uniform.

"Let's make this simple. We cut the rivalry bullshit so I can help you, or I can leave you to it while you likely just bleed out. Your call, Grandmaster." you watched his face twitch at the sound of his title. His mask not being on his face freaked you out sometimes since you could fully see his face and every expression on it.

"How could you help me?" he asked, putting emphasis on "you" as if it was impossible. You lifted your shirt halfway to show him the wound you patched up.

"I just sealed this with heat. It still hurts but at least it's not bleeding anymore. For yours it would probably take longer and a little more heat to seal but it's the better option." you said. The look on his face stilled in contemplation. He really couldn't stand the idea of being in debt to you.

"You know what, I can go, don't wanna piss you off-"

"No! Please...I need help. I need your help." he groaned out in pain when he leaned forward in desperation. You kneeled in front of him with a half smile.

"Don't utter a word of this." he said, slowly taking his shirt off to reveal the wound that stained his sculpture of a body. Lord have mercy...

"Wouldn't dream of it..." you said, moving closer next to him and getting to work. "I'll do your arm too."

You watched as he wanted to say something, but simply didn't. Like a lump was caught in his throat.

"You're welcome." you mumbled. You were so focused on his wound while simultaneously keeping your composure, you didn't notice the very, very slight blush forming on his cheeks. The feeling of your hot hands on his cold skin, and the look of pure concentration in your eyes had a different feeling coursing through his body.

He cleared his throat and looked off in the distance, a quiet, but genuine "thank you" finally coming from him.

-

It's been a couple weeks since. Everyone found their way back and managed to heal in due time. Since the mission was nowhere near successful, Liu Kang wanted you all to reside at the Lin Kuei temple to continue with altering plans after getting a thorough rest.

After helping out in the infirmary for a while, you realized Bi Han hadn't shown up so much outside of leading his clan in their daily routines. You left the room and looked around for him everywhere asking if anyone saw him recently. One of his clan members overheard you and let you know he mentioned he wasn't feeling well as of lately, so he's been going straight to his room after their sparring sessions.

You took it upon yourself to make a cup of tea, heating it with your own hands before heading over to his bedroom. The closer you got there, you could hear him talking out loud. He seemed to be babbling something over and over again before he realized he was getting loud. You stood outside his door and eavesdropped carefully, wondering just what the hell he was saying.

"Ah, fuck," he kept repeating everytime he exhaled, which just gradually became raspier and more strained.

After knocking two times it didn't take long for the sound of shuffling and him asking who it was outside of his door at this time to fill your ears. You sheepishly answered back, letting him know you brought tea since you heard he wasn't feeling well.

He quickly opened the door and pulled you in without a thought, closing it behind you before looking at you with an expression you've never seen before. This man looked stressed as all hell, but not the work kind; the faint pink on his face let you know it was a different kind of stress.

"Look what you did to me." he said, pointing to his face which was gradually getting hotter at the sight of you. He took the tea out of your hand and placed it on his dresser before grabbing one of your hands. "You need to fix this."

You couldn't help but smile mischievously at him. He was indirectly begging you to fulfill his needs, but you couldn't let him have it that easily.

"I'm confused, what are you asking of me exactly?" your feigned confusion only riled him up more and he was on the verge of being a sputtering mess.

"You-" he paused. "I...need you. Your touch."

"My touch?" you asked, walking closer to him and feeling his grip loosen just a little bit.

"The heat that comes from your hands. It...felt nice. And the way you looked at me that day has been occupying my mind since."

You tried not to show it on your face how in utter shock you were at his confession. He looked away before speaking again.

"Please." he whispered as he briefly closed his eyes. His quiet plea was louder than anything he's ever said to you in all the time you've known him.

With no time wasted, you grabbed his jaw and kissed him, feeling him stiffen from getting startled before melting into your touch (no pun intended).

Pushing him to sit on the bed, you had never seen a man like him just look so...submissive. And the fact that it was Bi Han, because of you, had you thinking your life was complete.

His bun came undone and let his hair flow free. You softly grabbed the back of his head and massaged his hair, letting him feel the heat emitting from your palms. With the other hand you undid his belt and there it was. His bare body before you, and his dick half flaccid.

One grab at the base nearly made him fall limp. Your warm hands caressing his hair and shaft was likely the trick to make him cum right here right now. It didn't take long for that feeling to swell up inside of him, making him harden way faster than he expected.

"Look at me." you demanded, watching his eyes flutter open. If his cheeks weren't a deep red before, they sure are now. The pace of your hand quickened, but not too much to watch the friction. "You're going to cum when I tell you to. Not beforehand, understood?"

As he nodded you could feel his breath hitching. You never tore your eyes away from his even upon hearing the sound of slick getting louder with every stroke.

"See? I knew you could be a good boy, Bi Han."

He grunted at his senses heightening to the sound of your voice, his name, and being called a good boy all in one. He couldn't hold out for much longer now.

"Please-" he whispered. Nothing like a cold glass of man begging in the afternoon.

"Please what?" you stopped your hand, squeezing around the tip. You reveled in the way it looked like he was about to cry real tears.

"Please- Ah, I'm so close-"

"What do you want me to do about that?"

"Move your hand, fuck-" he started to lose sense of his surroundings as soon as you lightly pulled on his hair. You finally gave in, the look on his face and the utter desperation on display made you hot all over (no pun intended)

You didn't expect a small cracking in his voice to appear. With this you only egged him on further to express just how good you make him feel.

"Cum."

And that is exactly what he did. The moment he started to get loud you covered his mouth with the hand that was in his hair. Did you ever think you'd hear Bi Han whimper and sniffle just from your warm hand gliding up and down his shaft? No, but it made everything that lead up to this point worth it.

You didn't stop stroking. You couldn't stop. His eyebrows were upturned and he looked like the perfect bottom bitch. If you told anybody about this, albeit you wouldn't dare, nobody would believe you. You had the Grandmaster of the Lin fucking Kuei under your palm, literally.

As he kept cumming from overstimulation, ice crept up to his elbows. It's like he lacked control from the amount of pleasure he received. He definitely needed this to say the least.

He finally calmed down, and you slowed your hand to a stop. Luckily he only got it on his abdomen and not his beloved robe otherwise you wouldn't hear the end of it.

You sat next to his tired form, looking at him from the side and tucking his hair behind his ear.

"You really put the 'sub' in Sub Zero." you said, reaching up to have him face you again. Hesitant at first, you leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips to see his reaction. He just stared at you, but this time his face was relaxed, not a frown line to be found. A smidge of a smile on his face.

"You're cleaning this up."

-

a/n: thanks for reading! my asks are open! <3

[tieronecrush]

꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter three: sugar & spice

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 9.6k

a/n: loving my prof. javi and thank you endlessly to @northernbluess for beta-ing <33333 love ya!

“Hey, angel.”

The signal isn’t great when you pick up the phone, an unfamiliar number piquing your interest as you sit on the floor of your bedroom painting your nails. The phone is pressed between your ear and shoulder, and hearing that low, raspy timbre through the cracking line brings a smile to your face and a stir of excitement in your stomach.

No, stop, stupid brain. He’s someone you’re seeing for work, you shouldn’t blur the lines with him when you have other arrangements.

“Hi, Javi.”

“What are you up to, cariño?”

The simple question brings a smile to your face, leaning back against your bedframe. You picture him in his own apartment, probably on his couch or in his bed; imagining his apartment is warm, with leather furniture and sharp edge surfaces — a balance of the firm and clean-cut facade with the worn softness of his gentle personality.

“Mm, painting my nails.”

“What color?”

“Burgundy. Like a reddish purple kind of color.”

“Y’know that’s my favorite color, angel. Bet it looks very pretty.”

“Are you gonna say that about every color I use for my nails? Something tells me we might have this conversation many times,” you giggle and can hear a breathy laugh from him.

“Maybe so. But I don’t think I’d be wrong, you’d look pretty in anything and with any nail color, querida,” you can hear shuffling on the other line, a faint sigh slipping from lips, “Any chance you’re free Friday evening, angel?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure, let me check.” You carefully stand from the floor, leaving the bottle there and walking over to your desk to look over your open planner. Skimming over the day, you see you have a date with a different man scheduled already, pouting to yourself.

“What’s the verdict, cariño?”

“M’sorry, Javi, I actually have something that night,” you confess, quickly following it up, “But I’m free Saturday if you are.”

“That works perfectly for me. Just selfishly wanted to see you sooner,” he runs his thumb across his bottom lip, knee bouncing out of nerves against the floor as he sits on the edge of his bed, “I’ll call you later this week to give you details?”

“That sounds perfect, Javi.”

He desperately wants to keep you on the line, to have your voice in his ear for a bit longer, so he’s scrambling a bit on what to ask you. The first thing that comes to mind spills out, “How’s the essay coming along?”

Palm to his forehead and rolling his eyes at himself, he relaxes only a bit when he hears you laugh, “Professor Peña making an appearance…It’s going alright, I think. I guess we’ll know when I get the grade back.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to really ask that but I couldn’t think of anything else at the moment.”

“S’alright. Just like giving you shit when I can,” another laugh from you, he can hear you moving around your room, “What do you really want to ask me? Or are you only trying to keep me on the phone to track me or something like you do to your criminals?”

“Oh yeah, that’s just it. You caught me, cariño,” he chuckles, exhaling through his nose and smiling to himself like an idiot, “But really, I do want to keep you on the phone. I like the sound of your voice….Sorry, that might have been too weird.”

“No, no, not weird. It’s sweet…” You try to hold in your smile, attempting to calm the flips your stomach is doing from hearing that from him.

“Good, that’s good. Cause I liked telling you.”

It’s another half an hour before you are finally ending the call, nails all painted and even your toes too, checking the time and following up Javi’s answer to one of your questions.

“I think I need to go to sleep. M’sorry, I have a bedtime of a child during the week,” you laugh faintly, waiting for him to speak.

“No need to apologize, angel. Get some sleep, have some nice dreams. Thanks for staying up to chat with me, sweetheart.”

“Night, Javi. I’ll see you in class on Wednesday.”

“Can’t wait. Goodnight, angel.”

Scanning your eyes across the path down below, you easily spot Javi from your vantage point at the top of the stone stairs. He waves to you when he meets your eyes, waiting at the bottom for you with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. You make your way down the stairs in your muted paisley slip dress, black tights on your legs, and a shrug cardigan across your shoulders.

The staircase descends to an entrance for the San Antonio RiverWalk, a path throughout downtown lined with bars, restaurants, shops, and more. Javi had asked you here, saying he wanted to do something simple and spend time with you.

Why does he have to be so effortlessly romantic?

You are not supposed to have these kinds of feelings for him. It’s work, it’s a job.

At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

Javi grins when you make your way over to him, dressed in jeans, a button-up, and a green jacket with tan trim. He drinks you in, reaching a hand out for you to take and pulling you closer.

“Hey, angel.” His voice rumbles from his chest, low volume straining it slightly. With so many people around, he’s desperate to keep you all to himself.

“Hi, Javi.” Your smile widens as you squeeze his hand, inching ever so slightly closer.

As soon as he smells the notes of your perfume — vanilla, jasmine, and amber — his shoulders relax and warmth spreads throughout his bloodstream. It’s soft like cashmere and comforting like a hug, even in the short time he’s been exposed to it up close. With a kiss pressed to your temple, he gets one last inhale before pulling away, nodding toward the left to start walking with you hand-in-hand.

He asks about your day and intently listens as you recount your chores from today, one of which included taking your car in for an oil change. You’re explaining how they offered to get your brake pads replaced too, keeping your car overnight, and giving you a quote of a few hundred dollars over what it should normally cost for it all.

“That’s some bullshit, cariño. Send me the number of this place and I’ll take care of it. Shouldn’t be paying that much for simple repairs.” Javi clicks his tongue as he shakes his head, dropping your hand and wrapping an arm around your waist as the two of you maneuver through a crowd.

He takes your hand again once you clear the crowd, asking about your plans for Sunday. The conversation evolves as the two of you wind your way along the river, not paying much attention to how far you’re walking or anyone else around you.

“Y’know, you have the whole seventies-cool-guy-look down. Were those your golden years?” You snicker quietly as you tease him, slowly swinging your hands between you. He gives you a reprimanding look, not being able to hold it for long as his own smirk seeps in.

“You’re trouble, mi maltenida. With a capital T.” He hooks his arm closest to you over your shoulders, bringing your arm connected to his across your chest and pulling into his side. “Are you making a joke about my age, sabelotodo (smartypants)? You aren’t acting like you’re embarrassed to be seen with me so it must be at least tolerable to you.”

Javi nudges the side of your head with his nose, grinning through a kiss pressed to your scalp. You shrug and glance to your left at him, holding in your own smile, “Hey, I didn’t say anything! I only asked if they were your golden years. I didn’t say anything about your age or if I liked the clothes or not.”

“Sure, angel, sure. The power of intention is always there. And for the record, yeah, they were my golden years. Until now, maybe.”

Now? He must mean cause he’s a professor at a university and a retired DEA Special Agent.

Javi’s heart is thumping in his chest, and he has a small worry that you can feel his pulse with your hand in his. Listening to your footsteps click in sync against the stone path, he inhales your scent again and calms down.

He definitely feels like his time with you is pretty golden right now. What a change from what he felt like a year ago.

“Now? Enjoying your life as a professor that much?”

“Yeah, you could say that, cariño.”

The two of you had been wandering for a few hours now, chatting and drifting in and out of stores. In a bookstore, Javi insisted on getting you one of the novels that you had picked up and talked to him about wanting to read, calling you his ‘maltenida’ once again when you were protesting his purchase. Once you caved, he grinned and went to the counter himself, carrying the bag for you as you continued to walk.

“You hungry, angel? Or want to get a drink?” Javi rubs circles into your lower back, looking at you with a soft, closed smile.

“Hmm, guess I could eat, yeah. Should we walk around and find somewhere?” You start to glance around for something that catches your eye, feeling yourself being led off the path and up to a set of stairs to the street.

“Do you trust me, angel?” His voice vibrates in your chest, lips brushing against your ear and sending a tingle across your nerves.

“I trust you, Javi.”

“Good girl. M’glad to hear that,” he winks and moves his hand to take yours, interlocking your fingers, “I’ll take us somewhere you’ll love, promise.”

It’s about five minutes walk away from the river, further into downtown before Javi veers off to the left. You’re right along with him, stumbling a little to keep up with his wide gait; he slows when he notices you always a step behind, smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry, just excited to show you.”

Squeezing his hand in reassurance, you shake your head, “No need to apologize. The rush is keeping it all very exciting.”

The two of you share a quiet laugh before his steps completely slow to a stop in front of an unsuspecting set of double doors, labeled with numbers and letters that are reminiscent of library catalogs — the nerd in you realizes that it’s the Dewey Decimal system.

“What is this place?” A confused expression contorts your face, scrunching your nose and drawing your brows together in a pinch.

“Why am I gonna ruin the surprise now, angel? C’mon, you’ll see.” Javi holds the door open for you before following you inside. A hand is kept protectively on your back over to the staircase, stacks of books that look as if they’re stolen from a library lining the walls and the wide staircase. Ascending up to the second level, you comb your eyes over the open floor plan, Javi stepping over to a host’s stand to your right.

It’s dark, warm mood lighting illuminating the space minimally. Each small table has one of those built-in desk lamps you recognize from the outdated furniture in the university library, worn and stained wooden floors and tables fill up the restaurant area. The bar is made up of old bookshelves, still filled with books at the front and every chair or stool or booth is softened leather of all different jewel tones — emerald, sapphire, ruby, and amber.

If you were to ever design a restaurant, it would surely be something like this. It's a mix of that book, paper smell with delicious food being made, and there’s a quiet hum of chatter and music that isn’t overwhelming.

It’s the “if you know, you know”, off the beaten path kind of place. 

And Javi wanted to take you here. He knew you would love it, he was excited to share it with you.

Again, with the being so fucking romantic and sweet and cute. Makes you want to smack his gorgeous face and walk away from it all so you don’t have to feel these feelings.

“They’re getting a table cleared now for us, angel. Should be a few minutes, you want to sit at the bar and grab a drink?” Javi saddles up next to you, grin tugging up one side of his mouth and exposing the dimple on his right cheek.

For a minute, all you can do is take in the sight of him. Groomed brown locks with the hint of an unruly curl at the nape of his neck. Quaffed mustache, likely trimmed today for the occasion of meeting up with you. Wide, rounded soft brown eyes that are looking at you with all the patience and affection in the world. Plush, pillowy lips that sit in a constant pout and make you want to kiss them all the time.

God, he’s fucking beautiful.

Why does he have to be such a good man too? Can’t he be an asshole for your sake?

“Y’alright, cariño? We can go somewhere else if you want, just thought you might like this place and—“

Cutting him off with a hand on his cheek, you smile widely, shaking your head, “I don’t wanna go, this place is wonderful. I love it….Thank you for bringing me here.”

He replicates your grin and shrugs off your gratitude, leaning in and kissing you chastely.

“Let’s go get a drink, mi maltenida.”

Javier gives you the last seat at the bar, leaning against the surface standing next to you, chest facing toward your seat and neck cranes to the side to grab the bartender’s attention. He’s got a hand on you constantly: roaming from your back over your waist and down to your hip before coasting along your thigh and doing it all in reverse. He orders for you, remembering what you got the last time you two were together and ordering his usual whiskey. After the bartender walks away, he turns to face you and his mouth forms a small ‘o’ in realization.

“I didn’t even ask if you wanted anything different. M’sorry, angel. Did you want to try something else? I’ll grab the bartender again.” He already turning away before you can answer, your hand reaching out for his that starts to extend up in a wave to the server.

“S’totally fine, Javi. Cálmate.” His eyes snap to yours at the sound of your accent being pulled out for your basic Spanish knowledge, a wide grin crossing his face.

“Aye, mi maltenida sabe español? Qué? (Oh, my sugar baby knows Spanish? What?)” his voice slips easily into his accent, the words effortlessly falling off of his tongue in his first language, “Eres la mujer más hermosa del sitio. Puedes entender lo que estoy diciendo, cariño? (You are the most beautiful woman in the place. Can you understand what I’m saying, darling?)”

“Um, un poco? I have the most minimal understanding and am terrible at speaking. I’m in a level 200 class right now and struggling to keep up,” you chuckle, taking a sip of your drink once the glasses are dropped off by the bartender.

“You don’t sound half bad to me, angel. Takes some practice to really get into it, but I’m sure you’ll be much more comfortable with it by the end of the year,” he smirks and leans in, lips close to your ear, “Plus, I can tutor you. One-on-one. Qué te parece? Puedo enseñarte mucho más que tu profesor.”

“You’re going to have to clue me in here, Javi. No entiendo.”

“I asked ‘How does that sound?’ And then I said ‘I can teach you much more than your professor.’”

“Oh, is that right? And what would you teach me?” You match his smirk, scooting to the edge of the stool with his hand gripping your hip a bit harder than before.

“Mm, cosas sucias.” His tongue peeks out to swipe along his bottom lip as he eyes your own mouth, translating without your request. “Dirty things. You want that, angel?”

A nod from you grows his smirk before you’re fully inching closer, pressing your lips to his in a slow, sensual kiss. There’s a bit of a push and pull before he wins out the upper hand, slanting his mouth against yours with quiet exhales.

Another thing to be angry about with this man: he’s a great fucking kisser.

Javier is the first to pull away, leaving you with one last quick peck before he sips his drink, glancing over his shoulder when the host comes by to seat you both. Javi backs up, helping you off of the stool and leaving behind your empty glasses on the bar. You walk next to him, following the host to a booth toward the back. Javier takes a seat on one side of the booth, expecting you to take the other. He’s surprised when you smile shyly, stepping toward his side and sliding in next to him. Backing up toward the inside, he bites back a wild grin at your move, cheating himself toward you.

Damn, he should’ve thought of that move in the moment. But to be honest, he’s glad you’re the one who made the move.

The reassurance calms his constant buzz of nerves, relaxing him as you now look to be the shy one.

“Is this okay? Probably should’ve asked,” your voice is gentle, well-mannered as you question him. Javi scoots closer, stretching an arm onto the top of the booth behind you and circles the knuckle of his index finger featherlight on your shoulder.

“More than okay, angel. Trust me.” He can’t help the grin on his face when he leans in, kissing you lightly and feeling your own smile against his lips.

With another inhale of your perfume mixed with your shampoo, he presses a kiss to your temple before turning to the menu on the table, looking it over with you.

“Gonna get the same thing, cariño?”

“Nah, I think I’m going to try one of their specialty cocktails. They're all named after books, it’s so fun.” Glancing at him, he can see the joy in your eyes and it makes his heartbeat double, looking back to the list.

“Well, which one are you going for?”

“I think I’m gonna do the Gin Eyre. It’s got a dash of sweetener, lemon, mint, and some orange bitters it says. Sounds good.” A faint chuckle slips from your lips, combing over the list. “You should try this one, Javi. The Catcher in the Rye. S’got whiskey, and then sherry, orange liqueur, something called Torani Amer, and bitters. I think you’d like it.”

You meet his eyes and he shrugs, “I dunno know, angel. Whiskey is my favorite but I’m more of a no-frills kind of guy when it comes to my drink.”

“Oh, c’mon, it’ll be fun. I’ll buy you a different one if you hate it. But you can get whiskey at any bar, this place is the only place that’s gonna serve a drink named after a Salinger book,” you plead and pout your bottom lip, fluttering your lashes as Javier tries to hold out. After another moment he sighs and rests his chin on your shoulder, squeezing you closer when his arm wraps around you.

“That look is pretty devious, cariño. How am I meant to say no to that?” He raises his eyebrows and presses his lips together when you laugh, smirking at him with a small lift of your shoulders.

“Guess you’re not supposed to say no.”

“Mhmm, devious, mi maltenida. Devious.”

At that moment, your server comes by to take your order, you giving him the drinks and telling Javi to order whatever food looks good to him. Once everything’s put in, you turn back to him while he leans into the corner of the booth, gently coaxing you closer.

“So if you’re gonna be my tutor, can you answer one question I have?”

“Course I can, ask away.”

“What does ‘mi maltenida’ mean? I’ve heard you say it a few times to me but I have no idea what it means but it sounds bad cause it’s got ‘mal’ in it.” Fingertips graze along his thigh closest to you, his arm around your lower waist coasting up and down your side a few inches.

“S’not bad, necessarily. Sure, it probably has a negative connotation in some circumstances but I mean it as something cute,” he clears his throat and pauses the roaming of his fingers, “Mi maltenida is my sugar baby.”

“Javi! I don’t wanna be called that, that sounds so bad.” Arms crossed in front of your chest, your touch leaves his thigh and you move to face forward with a pout.

“Hey, cariño, I said it didn't mean anything bad. I mean it as a term of affection. You’re so sweet and I like reminding you.”

“Doesn’t feel sweet. It literally has the word bad in the spelling of the word.” You pout more, and when Javi takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, he turns your face up to see genuine upset in your eyes.

“M’sorry, cariño, I was just teasing when I started calling you that. I won’t anymore, promise.”

“Is there something better out there? I like being something to you, just not something like that…” you trail off, not bothering to repeat the translated words. They make you feel dirty, like your feelings in your chest and your stomach right now, your nerves and excitement around this man, aren’t genuine when you reduce your relationship down to that. It makes you feel icky, that dark turn of your insides tugging the corners of your lips down.

“Hmm, what about mi bebita? That sound better to you?”

“What’s that mean? Little baby? I don’t know about th—“

“Babygirl. My babygirl,” Javi kisses the corner of your lips, his own smile peeking through. The press of his lips trails along your jaw and to your ear, until he can speak to you with a low, reverberating roll of his voice, “You wanna be my bebita? Would that make you happy?”

His voice is spreading heat along your neck and down your spine, settling in a syrupy pool between your legs. A languid nod rolls your head, Javi’s fingers once again turning your chin to face him.

“Can I hear you say it, please?”

A quiet clear of your throat pulls your voice back, responding to his request, “I wanna be your bebita.”

He hums with a satisfied smirk, closing the gap between you two to press a light kiss to your lips. Pulling away with a quiet smack of his lips, his hand drops to the top of your thigh and rubs gentle circles toward your center.

“Such a good girl for me. You gonna let me take care of you, bebita? That’s all I wanna do for you. Whatever you want, bebita, you can have from me.”

Underneath the skirt of your dress, you can feel your panties sticking to the wetness gathering there. As you’re nearly about to spread your legs and let him have you right there, the server returns with your drinks and food.

Javi pulls away from you, hand on your thigh possessively when the waiter checks you out from his higher vantage point. The burn of his stare crosses over your chest and your legs, bare from the mid-thigh down. The lick of his lips instantly makes you feel like prey, turning into the booth toward Javi to hide yourself even a little bit. At the discomfort of the wandering pair of eyes on you, your legs cross at your thighs and trap Javi’s hand there, one of your own holding onto his wrist.

There’s a clipped ‘thank you’ from your man at the table once everything is delivered, dismissing the younger guy and slipping his hand from between your thighs. There’s no acknowledgement made of the moment, only Javi running his hand across your back soothingly and picking up conversation about something else, immediately taking your mind off of the uncomfortable interaction.

Turns out you were right, and Javi loves the drink you asked him to get. The two of you share both of them, enjoying the picky bits that Javi chose from the menu. Conversation is easy, as always, and the room falls away around you as you get wrapped up in each other.

A small tug in his gut brings him to ask, “Did you draw in class a few weeks ago?”

You pause your search for the perfect fry, looking up at Javi with your hand frozen, “Uh, yeah, I think so….I kind of doodle in every class, it helps me focus. I can stop if—“

“No, no need. I was asking cause, well, I found one of your drawings after class a few weeks ago. It was at the desk you use and it was of me, I think.”

A quiet groan rolls from your throat, shoulders slumping as you shake your head and resume your fry search.

“God, that’s so embarrassing. Please tell me you threw it out.”

“No, fuck no. I kept it. Sits in my desk drawer and I take it out whenever m’thinking about you. Think it’s cute that I was your muse for the day,” he chuckles with a wide grin, leaning into the corner and admiring you with tender eyes.

“You kept it? As in, you still have it? Why? We weren’t even really anything back when I did that.”

“Told you, bebita, got a big ol’ crush on you.”

It’s another couple of hours and only a few drinks later that the bartender makes their rounds to announce closing. Your conversation took most of your attention for the evening, gently taking Javi’s wrist and checking the time on his watch.

“God, I didn’t even realize how late it was. Feels like it’s only been like an hour since we got here,” you laugh quietly as Javi signs the check, leaning over and pressing a supple kiss to his lips, “Thank you for tonight.”

A couple more kisses are shared before he leans back, smiling softly at you, “Thank you, bebita. I really like spending time with you.”

You slip out of the booth first and watch as Javi stands, groaning quietly before his hands find you again, wrapping you up close to him as you both make your way out of the bar.

“You need a ride home, angel?”

A tingle settles in the back of your neck, blossoming across your whole body as you look at him with your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Actually, I was thinkin’ that maybe we could keep tonight going. Maybe you could show me your place?” Eyebrows raised, you wait for his response as it slowly registers for him, an eager nod bobbing his head up and down.

“Yeah, yeah. Definitely. My place.”

Javier knows he drove as if he was in the streets of Colombia again; speeding when he could and on the edge of his seat, nerves fried from the excitement and adrenaline he felt.

But there isn’t a part of him that regrets it, opening the door to his apartment and letting you in ahead of him. You glance around the space, setting your bag down on the kitchen counter next to you as he walks up behind you after locking the door.

Hooking his arms around your waist, you turn around to face him, biting back you grin as he meets your eyes. Fingertips coast across your back, palms moving to your hips and tugging you to press against him.

“What d’ya think of the place, hm?”

“S’nice. But you haven’t given me a tour, wanna see your room.”

“Yeah? I’ll show you, bebita.” He smirks as he meets your lips with his in a heavy kiss, hands at your hips gripping tighter and starting to walk you backward. A muffled whimper parts your lips enough for him to lick into your mouth, both moaning as your tongues meld together. All the way back to his bedroom, he hasn’t taken his lips from yours. Crossing the threshold, he pulls his lips away, trailing heady kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

You stretch back and gasp with a sharp inhale as he bites at the base of your neck, nipping and soothing the marks with his tongue. A glance around his room proves you right from your guesses about how he keeps his space: minimal decoration, one or two photos strewn around, and warm wooden furniture with dark toned bedding and soft furnishings. It’s welcoming, but a bit sad that he doesn’t have much expression. The difference between his and your place is a bit astounding.

What will he think when he sees yours?

When he sees yours? God, no one has ever been to yours out of all your arrangements and with one night with him you’re going to already be calling him to come over. 

It feels a bit out of your control at the moment, your imagination running wild with feelings that are tamped down inside. Something snaps back into place in your mind, closing that part off and begging you to get some control of the situation. Lacing your fingers in his hair, you pull him out from the crook of your neck, smirking at him and kissing him, leading with much more fervor than before.

He bends to your guide, letting you lead him back to his bed, sitting down at the edge when his knees hit the mattress. Pawing at your waist, hips, and grabbing handfuls of your ass, Javi groans against your lips and pulls away only enough to speak.

“Can I take this pretty dress off, angel?”

You nod, a soft ‘yes’ breathed out in response before the material is being pulled over your head and tossed to the side along with the small shrug cardigan you were wearing. Javi’s eyes drink in your body greedily, standing before him in some off-white lingerie. His tongue swipes along his bottom lip, hands moving of their own volition as they run over your curves and thighs, settling under the cups holding up your breasts.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, bebita. Did you wear this for me?” Hands squeeze your breasts over the lace, a whimper involuntarily sounding at the feeling of his hands on you.

“Yeah, yeah I did. Thought you would like it.”

“Mm, I love it, mi bebita. But I want to take this off of you, can I? I wanna see you, amante.” The band of your bra guides him around to your back, fingers tracing over the clasp.

“You have to take this off then.” You tug on his button up under the jacket he still has on, letting him unclasp your bra and slide it down your arms to discard where your dress ended up. Before he can make any move for your newly bare skin, you lift your arms and start to unbutton his shirt. Javi shrugs off his jacket while you work his buttons, grabbing you by the swell of your ass and pulling you down to straddle his denim covered bulge.

“God, babygirl, wanted you so bad. Y’know I couldn’t get my dirty thoughts about you out of my head, every single class,” his voice gets muffled as he nibbles at the crook of your neck again, making you giggle smugly.

“Is that right? What would you think about?” The last button slips through the hole, allowing you to push the fabric off of his shoulders and leaving it to fall back onto the bed. Your own hands roam across his sturdy, solid chest and broad shoulders, down to his soft tummy. Leaning in, your own lips work at his jaw, starting a slow roll of your hips against his hardness.

“Fuck…” he exhales before his head falls back, voice rumbling from his chest and coated with arousal, “Thought about—Thought about what kind of sounds you’d make for me, if you tasted as sweet as you act…Thought many, many times about what that mouth of yours would look like around my cock…”

Even his words cause you to whimper, chastising yourself internally for the hold he has on you. Peeling yourself away, you stand up in front of him, folding over to kiss him sweet and slow before you drop to your knees.

“I can show you what it looks like, Javi, if you want.”

No one else has made you ever feel like this, and it is terrifying.

And you’re going to whatever you can to disarm this feeling inside of you.

“Oh, hell yes — I mean, yes, please. Quiero verlo, por favor (I want to see it, please).” Javi can hear how desperate he sounds in the moment, aching for some relief and salivating over the view of you on your knees in front of him.

Inching closer, you spread his legs apart to settle between them. Featherlight kisses pressed against his thighs and up to his crotch, shuddering out a breath as your lips ghost along the outline of his cock. You rub your cheek against the bulge, whining to yourself before nimble fingers open his belt buckle, pop the button and drag the zipper down on his jeans. He helps you out by lifting his hips, your hands hooking together his jeans and briefs to tug them down to his ankles.

Javier kicks one of his ankles out, looking down at you, licking your lips and smiling up at him. His brain short circuits as he watches you move your head over his cock, dribbling saliva onto it before wrapping your hand around and starting slow, teasing strokes.

“Knew you were a pretty man, but you really are pretty everywhere,” he exhales sharply when your thumb circles the head of his cock, shaking his head at your devious smirk.

“Y’like it, bebita? S’all yours. Lemme feel that little mouth of yours.”

On the next downstroke you make, you flick your tongue against his tip before taking it in your mouth. He shudders out a quiet moan, keeping his eyes glued to you as you take a few more of his inches and swirl your tongue around him.

“You look even better than I imagined sucking my cock, angel. Fucking hell, babygirl, jus’like that.” He exhales content when you have most of him in your mouth, cheeks hollowed out. Your hand continues to work around the base of him, a rhythm being built with the bobbing of your head.

“Mm, such a good girl. Taking my cock so well, bebita, feels so good…” Javi’s hands itch to touch you, one running down the column of your throat before it snakes around to the nape of your neck. The other brushes baby hairs from your face, smirking down at you. “Think you can handle all of me, angel? Your mouth feels so fucking good, I want all of it. Want to feel me hit right here…”

His words are punctuated with the hand at your hair trailing down to your throat, gently running his thumb back and forth over the center of it.

“Can you take it? Be my good little slut?”

It’s not the first time you’ve been in this scenario and been called something of the sort, but it is definitely the first time that the words shoot straight to your cunt, flooding between your legs. A whimper is stifled around his cock and his eyebrow quirks, hand petting at the back of your neck.

“Does mi bebita like being called my little slut? Mi zorrita (My little slut)? Knew you were gonna be so good at sucking my cock when I first saw you in your little plaid skirt and that tight fucking t-shirt of yours. And with those glossy plush lips of yours. You wanted to get my attention didn’t you?”

In response, you hum and take him all, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. You hold back a gag, tears filling your eyes as you breathe through your nose and dig your nails into his thighs.

“Oh, fuck yes! Fuck, fuck, yeah jus’like, angel. Oh, so good for me, bebita. So fucking good.” Javi’s hips jerk off the bed, pushing him further into your throat and hitting harder at the back of it. You really gag around him, the sensation causing a loud moan from him and his head rolling back. The hand at your neck clutches tighter, thrusts of his hips moving him subtly.

With a vice grip on his thighs, nearly drawing blood, he stills and you pull off for a breath. Heavy inhales and exhales fill your lungs with air as he pets your head while you stroke his cock covered in your spit.

“Y’okay, mi bebita?” When you nod and sigh out a tiny ‘yes’, he takes your chin between his fingers and tugs it open once your breathing is steadied. “You gonna keep being my perfect, sweet slut for me, angel? You’re such a good girl. Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

“Mhm, I wanna make you come, Javi. Please.”

With a dark chuckle he nods, one hand stilling yours on his length and guiding it back to your open mouth, “G’head, bebita, be a good girl and make me come.”

Your need to please him clicks on, eagerly licking up the underside of him as you stroke him faster. Getting as close as you can, you take one of his balls in your mouth, rolling your tongue around before giving the same attention to the other and releasing it with a pop. Above you, Javi’s chest is moving quickly with deep breaths, some moans slipping out when it feels too good.

You take all of him again, swallowing around him and gagging, taking all the small thrusts he jerks out. Tears fall down your cheeks and he whispers praises in the same breaths as the filthiest things, all of it making the ache between your thighs worse.

Fuck him for making you so fucking turned on you’re going to have to fuck your vibrator when you get home.

“Mhm, yeah, good girl. Fuck, m’close, angel, keep going. Please, oh shit, yeah—”His own adlibs are interrupted by his loud, rumbling moan as he holds your head and starts to come. Ropes of his release fill your mouth, Javi gently pulling his cock out and you closing your mouth to keep it all in.

“Lemme see, bebita, wanna see you with my come in your mouth.” His voice is breathy as he recovers, jaw dropping slightly open in awe when you show him. Rolling it on your tongue he swipes the few beads that leaked out and sticks his thumb in between your lips. “Swallow.”

Following his orders, you swallow all of his spend, catching your breath when he pulls his thumb from your mouth. You pat his thighs and stand, taking one step to go put on your dress when his hand reaches out to stop you, holding your hip.

“Where d’you think you’re going?” His brows knit together, mouth tugged down at the corners. You look at him equally confused, turning toward him and point to your clothes.

“Getting dressed?”

“Why?”

“Cause you finished?”

“What?”

“What d’you mean ‘what’?”

“What d’you mean ‘cause you finished’?”

“I mean, thought we were done here. Unless you want me to stay until you can go again…?”

“Angel, respectfully, what the hell are you on about? Why the hell would I let you leave my fucking room, let alone my apartment and go home, and not have gotten the chance to even touch you?”

You stutter for a moment, taken aback by his adamant questioning. Never has this happened before with any of your other clients, normally getting them off with your mouth or by fucking them, but never did they want you to stick around for them to make you come.

“Bebita, beautiful, may I please taste you? Been dreaming about it for weeks…”

“Um, I do want you to but you don’t have to feel obligated. I mean normally it doesn’t happen—”

There’s that same flash of anger in his chest that he’s felt with you before, too jaded to be able to see what you’re really worth.

Fucking golden, that’s what you are. Any man who’s been with you, arranged or not, should be so fucking lucky to see you come undone.

“Okay, fuck whoever has made you feel like you don’t deserve that. I don’t feel obligated or anything of the sort, I want to. I’m begging, bebita, please, let me make you feel good.” His hands run up and down from your thighs to your hips, Javi looking up at you from his seat on the bed with those rounded, softened puppy eyes.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Javi, if you ask again, I will actually get dres—“

“No, nope, no. I’ll shut up, just c’mere.” His hands palm your ass, toying with the lace of your panties and moving you between his legs. Kisses are peppered on your abdomen, blowing his breath across your skin and raising goosebumps. His nose presses into your skin as he gently nips and sucks and soothes different spots; your fingers run through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead.

“Javi…”

“So soft, angel,” he hums, vibrations sent across your torso before he’s standing, turning you both around quickly and guiding you back onto the bed, “Lay back, bebita. M’gonna take care of you.”

There’s a stirring in your gut, nerves high as you scoot back on his mattress. Javi climbs over you, crowding you back against the duvet as he catches your lips with his. Heady kisses are exchanged, one of his large hands coming to your chest and squeezing gently before he pulls off of your mouth and latches his lips to your pebbled nipple.

A whimper cuts out in your throat, holding back as much as you can to stay quiet. Javi mirrors his actions on your other breast before scooting down your abdomen, littering kisses until he settles between your legs. Two of his fingers hook in your panties, pulling them off of you and tossing them aside. Awe fills his eyes as he spreads your folds, licking his lips hungrily.

“Made such a mess, angel. Fucking drenched for me. You were gonna leave all riled up like this, bebita?” His tongue tsks behind his teeth, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Such a good, perfect girl like you doesn’t deserve to have to take care of herself. That’s what I’m here for, cariño.”

Your response catches in your throat when his fingers rub circles into your clit, smirk raising on his face when your own contorts with pleasure. The heel of his palm takes over when his thick fingers tease your entrance, one slowly filling you up and thrusting in and out at a lazy pace.

More wetness pools between your legs, seeping from your cunt and allows Javi to add a second finger, the slight stretch making you wiggle below him. His eyes are glued to your pussy, mesmerized by the sight of his fingers fucking your tight hole, spreading and opening his fingers for a wide stretch.

Javi folds over, saliva coating his mouth as he dives for a taste of you, mouth attaching to your clit and sucking gently.

More whimpers leave your mouth involuntarily as pressure builds inside, Javi pulling away only to acknowledge your feelings.

“I know, bebita, I know. Gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

Obscene noises, lewd and wanton, fill the room as his fingers fuck into the wetness seeping out of your cunt. It’s all you can hear as you hold in your own noises, feeling like if you opened your mouth, his neighbors would think he was making a porno.

His attention is focused back on your pussy, thrusting his fingers into you a tiny bit faster and sucking your clit harder. Your hands clutch the top of his hair, tugging and pulling as he brings you to the edge, pathetically quickly to you, but it’s been a long time since someone else has touched you with such an attentive attitude.

A satisfied hum is felt against your folds, suckling noises filling the air as Javi attempts to drink all that you have to offer him.

“Taste so fucking good, angel. Like heaven.”

His mouth and fingers don’t leave you after the first one; the sight of you coming undone for him flipped something inside, and he is desperate to see it again. He moves faster this time, building off of what he’s already learned you like from him. Fingers hook against that spot inside of you, jerking your hips up off the bed as his tongue flicks over your clit, licking like a kitten lapping milk.

Still burning from your first orgasm, your hands tangled in his hair attempt to pull him away from your cunt, desperate for a break as new pressure, more intense than the first go-round, floods inside of you and makes every muscle ache. Javi grunts at your attempts, his free hand gathering both of your weakened wrists in one grip and pressing them into your lower abdomen. The press from both sides, hands on your stomach and fingers inside of you, adds to the tangible tension covering you.

His fingers and tongue swap, licking into your entrance and fucking you on his mouth with his nose nudging your clit. A finger teases your tighter hole, muscle contracting and breath caught in your throat as he repeats all of the motions over and over.

As your second orgasm builds inside of you, a tight coil winding around and around in your gut, you attempt to hold in your sounds. You think, because in the past it’s been all about your client’s pleasure, you need to stay quiet, letting Javi do whatever he wants to you without an interruption from you. 

Attempting to stay quiet for him, you writhe under him, his grip on your wrists tightening as you try to lessen the stimulation from him between your legs. Pleasure blankets your body, tiny sobs wracking your body as you try to let your moans die in your throat. Javi feels the convulsions of your abdomen, hearing the little sounds from you and pulling his mouth away to look at you properly. 

Brows furrowed, skin sheened with sweat and frustration evident in your expression and tension from the stimulation he’s giving you. The two fingers that were inside of you move up to press in between your lips, hooking his fingers behind your bottom teeth and opening your mouth.

“Oh, baby, feels good, yeah? Your body wants you to make some noise, huh? Moans, whimpers?” Your whines answer him enough, fingers still holding your mouth open. “Don’t hold back. Want you to be fucking loud for me, bebita. Wanna hear you. Hear those pretty sounds you make when you fall apart on my tongue.”

He slinks down your body again, replacing his fingers inside of you with his muscular tongue, fucking in and out of you at an agonizing pace. Slow, deliberate circles on your clit twists your insides tighter and tighter, unable to hold back your sounds anymore.

Whimpers lift your chest up and down shallowly, Javi’s name leaving your mouth like a prayer. Without your hands to hold him closer, you lift your hips and grind against your mouth, gasping at the vibration of his own moan against your cunt.

“Javi, oh my god, please. Need a little bit more, please.” You beg, wiggling under him and being pressed into the mattress by his hand gripping your wrists against your stomach.

The second time around comes much quicker, your push clenching around his tongue as you come, whining from the pleasure melting into your muscles.

“Fuck, Javi…” you say with a sigh, lifting up to look at him still between your legs. His fingers coast along your dripping folds, sensitivity jerking your hips and thighs as he smirks smugly at the sight. Greed fills his eyes when he meets your gaze, licking his lips as he kisses the curls on your mound.

“One more.”

“Javi, I don’t think—“

“One more, bebita, por favor. Please.”

His tongue swipes over your clit, gathering your wetness and swirling the muscle around the sensitive bundle of nerves. A kiss pressed there makes a whine leave your mouth, encouragement for him to start playing with your pussy again.

“You can do it for me, bebita. One more and that’s it.” Two of his fingers easily slip inside of you from your come coating your folds, a languid and lazy pace building up to something more steady as your whines and whimpers grow louder.

“Yeah, tell me about it, baby. How good does it feel?”

“So—so good. Can’t even, fuck, can’t even think straight.”

“Mm, such a good girl for me. Relax, bebita, I’m gonna take care of you again.”

The pace he built is plateaued to build your stimulation before he picks up more speed. His two fingers move quickly, hooking inside of you to press against that spot inside of you repeatedly. His tongue on your clit circles in sync, your mind solely on the sensations he’s providing you. The rest of your body is heavy from the two previous orgasms, unable to fight the overstimulation as he fucks his thick fingers into you at a delicious pace.

An overwhelming warm feeling drops to your pelvic area, feeling familiar and putting you on edge as you try to get him to release your hands to try to push his face away when Javi adds his tongue to your entrance with his fingers.

“Fuck, Javi! Stop I’m gonna — Oh my god, it feels different, feels like—like I’m gonna pee.”

His fingers continue as he pulls his mouth away to rumble out his words, coated in arousal.

“S’okay, bebita, just trust me. Relax, baby, let it happen.”

His voice is gentle and reassuring, skepticism still present as you focus on the pleasure again, burning hot in your torso. Your body relaxes again, his hand pressing your wrist into your lower stomach and fingers hitting the roughened spot inside of you while sobs wrack your body.

Pleasure blinds you as it finally overtakes, his name erupting from your chest in a moan. A warm, liquid feeling spreads across your body, feeling a much more intense release that makes you squeeze your eyes shut, flipping your hands over in Javi’s to hold him tightly.

Opening up your eyes again, you look down your body to Javi lifting his head from between your legs, damp across the lower half of his face and the same glistening on his neck. You wiggle again feeling a large wet spot under you and immediately feeling your stomach drop when you realize what happened.

“Mierda, bebita. So fucking sexy. Doing that for me the first time, m’gonna wanna be greedy and see you do it every time now.” You hide your face in your hands, shaking your head and feeling heat spread across your face and neck.

“I’ve never—” you barely manage to breathe out the two words, Javi leaning his head on your thigh as he stays mesmerized by the sight of your dripping cunt.

“Nuh uh, angel, don’t be shy. Fucking loved it.” He turns to press a kiss on your inner thigh, nuzzling his nose against the pillowy skin.

There’s no thoughts in your head, no words in your mind as you catch your breath following your last orgasm. Your chest heaves, quick inhales to fill your lungs and replenish the oxygen in your blood to get your brain started again.

Clarity spreads in your consciousness, hearing Javi’s voice from between your legs, “What do you say, bebita?”

Brows knit together, you move to sit up and support yourself on your hands, you sigh out as you look down at him. “Huh?”

“Where are your manners, angel? What do you say?” Awaiting your response, he punctuates his question with a swipe of his tongue over your ultra sensitive clit, making your thighs quiver and hips attempt to jerk away from his hold.

Attempting to follow his questioning, you take another second before timidly saying, “Thank you?”

“That’s my good girl.” His smirk grows as he climbs over you again, kissing you gently. A tender look filled with affection faces you, Javi gently running his fingers over your skin. Silence falls between you two before you’re nodding for him to stand, getting off of his bed and looking around for your underwear.

“Um, d’you wanna stay? You can if you’d like to. I mean, I’d like you to if you’re comfortable with it. Jus’thought you might wanna cause it’s late.”

You want to. You definitely want to.

But you shouldn’t. You can’t.

That’s a far more personal line, an intimacy of falling asleep with him and waking up in the morning that has your heart pumping but your mind yelling at you that this is still your job, no matter what feelings are involved.

“Oh, um, next time? I have so much to do in the morning and I have a feeling if I stayed, I probably wouldn’t go home until Monday.” You smile sweetly at him, stepping into your panties and grabbing your bra off the floor.

Javi chuckles and nods, stepping over to you and hooking his arms behind your back. “Probably right about that, angel.”

You give him a peck and reach behind you to clasp your bra, adjusting the straps to your shoulders. Javi steps away from you, grabbing his briefs and jeans, starting to gets dressed himself.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed?”

“Why?”

“To drive you home?”

“You don’t have to do that. I can take the bus or a cab.”

“You’re not taking anything besides a ride in my car from me. S’late and I’m not letting you go home alone.”

“Really, Javi, you don’t have to drive me. I can manage.”

Why is he so stubborn?

You attempt to ignore the warmth his protectiveness is blanketing you in, shoving it all into the neat little box you’re attempting to keep everything Javi in.

He watches as you pick up your dress, sighing to himself and shaking his head as he finds himself wishing you would stay tonight. But if you aren’t staying, there’s no way in hell he was letting you walk out the door without him in tow to get you home safely. He wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight otherwise, but if he told you that, he thinks you’d be out the door before he could blink.

Why are you so stubborn?

“I know you can. I trust you, I don’t trust everyone else. Sorry, bebita, but m’not arguing with you.” He zips and buttons his jeans before reaching for a white t-shirt on the back of his desk chair and pulling it over his head as you put your dress back on along with your sweater.

“Okay, okay. You can drive me if it makes you feel better.” You finish fixing your clothes and start to head toward the front door to get your bag and shoes. Before you can leave his room, his arm blocks your way out of the doorway, you turning your head to face him.

“It would make me feel better. Thank you, baby.” He smiles subtly, trying to get a grin out of you and succeeding. Heartbeats run at the same speeds in your chests, unknowingly, as you take a moment to look into each other’s eyes. Within the next second, Javi kisses you one last time before dropping his arm and following you out of his room. Both of you get your shoes on, you grabbing your bag and heading out of his apartment and to his car.

The engine cuts in front of your building, Javi jumping out before you can say goodnight and circling around the hood of the car to open the passenger side door. He shuts it behind you and takes your hand, looking both ways before leading you across the street. Standing behind you, closest to the street, as you unlock the three flat’s front door, you take his hand this time, pulling him inside and up the stairs. At the second floor, you slow in front of your door and turn around to him, biting your bottom lip as he gives you a sleepy grin.

“Thank you for letting me bring you home safe. Now I might be able to sleep tonight,” he chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead, “And thank you for coming out with me tonight. Really enjoyed myself, bebita.”

“I enjoyed myself too, Javi. Thank you for tonight. Like, really, thank you.” You double down, the message received from the repeated ‘thanks’ that are insinuating your gratitude for how the two of you ended the night.

“My pleasure, angel.” He laughs with you, quietly as to not disturb your neighbors before he tugs you into his chest, tilting his chin in to kiss you sweetly.

You pout when he pulls away first, grinning when he pecks your pushed out lips.

“Goodnight, mi bebita. I’ll call you tomorrow? See how all the homework’s coming along?” He smirks as he taps your ass, unraveling from you to let you unlock your door.

“Night, Javi. Talk tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, angel. Sleep well.”

“You too.”

Stepping inside and closing the door behind you, both of you turn away on either side of the door; you head to your room and he heads back to his car, both replaying the night over and over again, having the same thought:

This is different from anything else before.

taglist (everything/javi): @northernbluess @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsquill @yazsos @cartoon-garbage04 @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel

[charlieswanswife]

Friends to lovers + sexual tension tropes: Charlie's wrist is injured but he needs to shave so he asks reader for help. Have fun!

Close Shave

I’m a slut for this kind of thing tyvm

Okay sidenote but this turned out so much cuter than I anticipated

"Careful now..."

You're rolling your eyes, retracting the razor in your hand from his stubbled cheek. "Don't be such a baby, Charlie. I know what I'm doing," you tease the apprehensive man. "I do have some experience in the shaving department, you know."

He mumbles, "Yeah well, that's why I asked."

"Still can't believe you managed to slip on that ice on your porch—even after I told you to do something about it no less! Said somebody was gonna get hurt. Now here you are, wrist sprained—more irritable than ever—and too helpless to even shave your own face."

Charlie's gaze meets your own and for once you feel something brewing in the pit of your stomach. Staring into his eyes, fingers grazing along the side of his jawline—you could never deny he was a handsome guy.

"I mean really, Charlie. What would you do without me?" There's a wide grin accompanying your lighthearted words.

"Yeah yeah," he scoffs, "Just get on with it will ya?"

There's the familiar look that manages to flash across his face for but a split second. The one that has his brows furrowing, eyes rolling back. The one that cautions you to cut your shit. A look you've seen from him far too often.

It wasn't like you didn't know what you were signing up for when you accepted this strange task of his. The two of you were close friends after all. Stuck through nearly the worst of each other throughout the years you'd known him.

Yet something felt different about this.

The way you were standing with him in the middle of his bathroom. How still he stayed while your hands caressed the sides of his cheek, faces so close his cologne felt dizzying. The way his lips seemed to naturally form a frown, eyebrows furrowing, whenever he was contemplating something.

Shit—you had to admit the sprouting grey hairs lining that beard of his were making you feel some type of way. A way that had you questioning your morals. Maybe your entire friendship. And like it didn't help when your thigh brushed against his anytime you moved in closer.

"How close of a cut do you want?" You ask, stepping back for a moment to snatch the shaving cream—and to calm yourself.

"Just keep the mustache."

"Should have guessed," you tease, lathering your hands, "Wouldn't want to frighten the guys at the station."

This comment earns you a small chuckle.

"Might scare you too," he adds.

You're smiling, nodding your head as you once again place the now lathered palms of your hands against the sides of his face. It's surprising to you just how soft his skin feels despite the stubble—which frames his jawline so nicely. You even find yourself sulking over how much of a shame it is to shave it off.

Gradually your laughter dissolves into a gentle silence that fills the air. You're impossibly close now—closer than you already had been—eyes locked together, breath fanning against his cheek. You're tight lipped, eyes darting down to focus as you begin to press the edge of the sharp razor to his skin.

An outstretched arm reaches out, hand clasping the edge of the counter in front of you. Charlie lets out a long sigh, eyes pursed shut, "Careful," he willfully reminds you.

"I thought you trusted me."

"Yeah well that was before you held a razor up to me."

"You asked me to do this, remember? You don't wanna back out now that I've already started."

Cue another drawn out sigh.

"Suppose not."

"Now try not to move so I don't nick you."

Charlie grumbles compliantly.

The first swipe you take is slow and cautious—the blade scraping down the bristles lining one side of his cheek. A breathy gasp slips past his lips—a sound that may or may not have caused your heart rate to spike. Or heat to pool in the pit of your stomach and your face for that matter.

"You doin' okay?"

"Of course." One swipe. "What's up?" Another.

"Just checking in."

You hum out something of a response, turning to the sink to run the razor under water before swiftly wiping it on a towel. "How're you holding up?" You ask, pressing the blade to his skin once more.

"Just fine," he answers before adding in a, "So far."

"Whatever you say." You're smiling to yourself—you can't help it when he's teasing you.

"You almost done yet?"

Heaving a small sigh, you take a swipe close to his chin. "No," you respond.

"I'd be done by now."

"Want me to rush?" You threaten.

Charlie laughs, "Take all the time you need," voice low in your ear.

You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding in.

"That tickles."

Heat flushes to your cheeks once more. "Suck it up," you advise, breath fanning the crook of his neck.

Another chuckle exits his lips and you can feel it rumble from deep within his chest. "Not pulling any punches today, huh?" Charlie says, tilting his head back to allow you more access as the razor begins to drag underneath his jawline.

"Afraid so."

For a second you look up to catch the smirk playing at the corners of his mouth and you find yourself briefly lost in the way his teeth ever so slightly rake against the bottom of his lip. Merely a second and somehow you manage to press just hard enough to cut his skin.

"Dammit—!" Charlie winces, pressing a hand to the wound.

"Oh shit—! I'm sorry!"

It's a small nick. Nothing intense. But that doesn't stop you from panicking.

"I'm really sorry...I didn't mean to—!" You stammer, urgently turning around to grab a damp towel—

—before stumbling backwards.

But Charlie manages to pull you to him, holding you securely to his chest so that you’re trapped between him and the counter, faces mere inches away. “Careful, sweetheart,” he nearly whispers, “Don’t need you all hurt too.”

If only he weren’t so damn smooth.

Because now you’re left absolutely breathless.

“Let’s finish up, huh?” Charlie suggests, brushing your hair away from your face.

“Good call,” you manage to say.

[tafeekafee]

💎🍚 I’m tryin’ to hold on

Title from Domino (SEVENTEEN)

Summary: Wonwoo and Seungcheol notice that Woozi isn't feeling well during a filming. While he manages to push through the aftermath gets worse.

CW: emeto

Sickie: Woozi

Caretaker: Seungcheol + Hoshi + Joshua

Keeping track of twelve other people was about as hard as people imagined. Seungcheol could definitely attest to that. Ten minutes into a shooting break and absolute chaos had broken out.

It didn’t help that half of the group acted like children and the other half treated them like children. Maybe it was his own fault, really. He should have read the parenting books his brother had gifted him as a joke years ago. Well, more than the one or two he had actually read. Jeonghan had made fun of him for weeks after he had accidentally found out. At least Seungcheol had had the decency to not mention it when he found one of the books in Jeonghan’s backpack a few weeks later.

As he observed the field they were at, his gaze was immediately drawn to DK, Hoshi and Seungkwan who somehow decided that acting out a three man sword fight with wooden sticks was the greatest way to spend the break. Jeonghan, Jun and Dino were edging them on. Great. At least Jeonghan and Jun knew they would be in deep shit if something went wrong. 

Mingyu, Vernon, Minghao and Joshua were also watching from a distance but acted like they were more focused on the buffet beside them. Alright, three and three and four that made ten. He himself was eleven. So he was still missing two members. 

His question of the others whereabouts was half-answered when somebody tapped his shoulder and he came face to face with Wonwoo. The other rapper was frowning a bit, his nose scrunched up in worry.

“Everything okay, Wonwoo-yah?”, Seungcheol asked, already on high alert.

“I'm fine, hyung. I think something might be up with Jihoon-ah though”, Wonwoo answered.

Seungcheol looked around to spot their smallest member but he couldn’t find him. This was suspicious. 

“He’s over there, sleeping, I think”, Wonwoo said and pointed in the direction of Seungkwan failing to block one of DK’s hits, which caused yelling about death and injury from the rest. Jesus Christ. Kindergarteners. 

But as Seungcheol squinted a bit he saw where Wonwoo was actually pointing. Behind the group of members, there was a small silhouette sitting on the ground, leaning back against a tree. Woozi had his cap pulled into his face and seemed like he wasn’t at all bothered by the noise happening less than five meters away from him.

“He hasn’t eaten yet. And he didn’t try to strangle Hoshi when he came up with … that”, Wonwoo gestured at the renewed “fighting”, this time with Jeonghan instead of Seungkwan. “If he was just tired he would have told them to shut up.”

Seungcheol couldn’t help but agree. Their personal prickly hedgehog would never pass over an opportunity to yell at Hoshi (it was all in good spirit most of the time, actually Seungcheol wasn’t sure if they were even able to communicate under eighty decibel if off camera).

“I’ll go see what’s up”, the leader said, slowly making his way towards their producer but trying to stay as far as possible away from the group so he would not get dragged into any shenanigans. Or was asked to referee or something equally stupid.

He had managed to avoid the chaos, luckily, and sat down next to Woozi, leaning against the tree as well. The younger at first didn’t acknowledge his presence and when Seungcheol looked him over he saw his eyes were closed.

To his surprise, however, he was greeted by a short: “What do you want?” 

Apparently the younger was awake and did not appreciate his company mustering him. Jihoon sounded annoyed and … down? Seungcheol wasn’t sure that was the right word to describe it but now he was really curious.

“Wonwoo said you haven’t eaten”, Seungcheol stated simply. It would be no use trying to get anything out of the younger - either he would tell the leader what was up or he would not. Mostly it was the latter.

“So?”, Woozi asked, clearly annoyed at having his precious loneliness disturbed by such stupid questions, “what’s it to you?”

“I’m worried”, Seungcheol shrugged, fingers pulling at the grass at his side. “You haven’t eaten and you haven’t yelled at Hoshi for that.” At the perfect timing the member led out a loud scream, jubilant apparently.

“You want me to yell at Soonyoung?”, Woozi asked perplexed, for the first time lifting his cap from his face. Seungcheol hoped it was just the shade and his natural paleness that made the producer look that white.

“Well, no. I just thought you would”, Seungcheol replied, suppressing a laugh. 

“Yah! Hoshi, cut it out”, Jihoon called, wincing at what seemed to be the volume of his own voice. Maybe he had a headache? The producer tended to get bad headaches so Seungcheol wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

Hoshi stuck his tongue out at his dongsaeng, making a finger-heart and then proceeded to ignore him.

“Better?”, Jihoon asked, raising a judgmental eyebrow at Seungcheol. The leader could help but laugh a bit.

“Much”, he agreed, “but are you sure you’re okay? Again, you haven’t eaten and you look like you have a headache.”

Woozi sighed. “I may have a little headache, but it’s okay. I’m just not very hungry.”

“Why don’t you eat a little, hm? We have tons of rice, you like that”, Seungcheol coaxed him, “I’ll even pester Jeonghan or Wonwoo for painkillers if you want me to.”

The producer sighed again. “Okay, I’ll eat but only to stop you from annoying me. Just don’t tell the others, I’ll be fine.”

Seungcheol grinned. Mission “make-Woozi-eat” on the way to success. He jumped to his feet and reached out his hands to pull the younger up. Reluctantly Woozi reached up and dusted himself off before following Seungcheol to the buffet.

💎

Filming was finally done. Hallelujah. Seungcheol was admittedly very done with the day and he did look forward to relaxing at home. Well, that would have to wait. He really wanted to find out what was wrong with their tiny producer.

It had been clear to all of them that Woozi had been struggling throughout the later parts of the shoot, turning into a mix of tired and uncomfortably short-tempered towards everyone. Wonwoo had done a good job of keeping him in his sight at all times since Seungcheol and Woozi had been split into different teams. The leader had seen the quiet rapper try to talk to their dongsaeng but be brushed off.

Sadly, Seungcheol didn’t need to wait until they got home to find out what was wrong. He, Jeonghan, Jun and Mingyu were still looking over some footage from the filming with a manager when Dino and Vernon came running. The others had already been shooed to the cars and instructed to wait there for them.

“Coups-hyung, Coups-hyung!”, Dino called and came into a skidding halt in front of the group. They all turned to the two maknaes, who both looked equal parts worried and confused. Vernon was left panting and leaned into Jeonghan who was already fussing over them.

“What’s wrong, Dino-yah? Hansol-ah?”, Seungcheol asked, patiently waiting for them to catch their breath but also very anxious about what had sent them running.

“It’s Woozi-hyung”, Dino explained, a look of disgust on his face, “he just threw up.”

Shit.  

Seungcheol had of course known something was wrong but something that bad he had not expected. But, well, that explained Jihoon’s earlier behavior though it left Seungcheol even more worried. If the producer was sick surely it would soon spread through the group soon enough. He already dreaded that.

“Wonwoo-hyung told us to get you”, Vernon added, “Shua and Hoshi-hyung are with him.”

Seungcheol would forever be grateful to Wonwoo, who knew that Seungcheol would be worried and knew that Woozi would probably want him rather than anybody else. 

“You finish up here, Dino-yah can help you”, Seungcheol said pointedly, especially to Jeonghan who he knew was probably as ready to check on Woozi as Seungcheol himself was. But there was no point in crowding their dongsaeng, he would hate all the attention. “Hansol-ah, can you take me to them?”

Vernon nodded and with a quick apologetic bow to the manager and the production team, Seungcheol fell into a quick step beside his dongsaeng. “What exactly happened?”, he asked, chewing on his lip.

“I don’t know. We were standing around, waiting, playing games. I mean, Woozi-hyung didn’t participate much but he never really does and he seemed exhausted all day. One second we’re having fun, the next he turned around and just got sick all over the ground.”

The leader winced in sympathy. He didn’t doubt that if he wasn’t embarrassed now, Woozi would absolutely be when he recovered. 

“It was chaos really, but Shua was with him immediately and Hoshi-hyung, after a moment of shock, too. Wonwoo-hyung managed to keep calm and took the others aside and asked us to get you. I don’t think Woozi-hyung would appreciate an audience”, Hansol continued.

“No, he would not”, Seungcheol sighed. In that moment they turned a corner to the cars and there Woozi was, sitting on the ground, leaning back against a car with Hoshi and Joshua on each side of him.

“Thank you for getting me. Go back to the others, Hansol-ah”, Seungcheol ordered lightly, glad that the younger followed his instruction without protests. 

💎

As he came closer to the trio Seungcheol could see just how awful Woozi looked, his head resting against Hoshi’s shoulder, the older having an arm wrapped around him. Joshua was rubbing Woozi’s knee in a comforting gesture. There was a clear, and thankfully empty, plastic bag clutched in the producer's hands.

“Hi, Jihoon-ah”, Seungcheol said as he approached them and knelt down in front of his sick member, “I heard you’re not feeling so good?”

Woozi shook his head slightly, not looking up at Seungcheol at all. Still, the leader could see the tear tracks on his face. He felt terrible for his dongsaeng, knowing how much he valued his privacy and despised showing vulnerability. Getting sick while two-thirds of the group had been watching must have been terribly humiliating for him.

“I’m sorry, hyung”, Jihoon whispered. Seungcheol couldn’t help but wince at how awful his voice sounded. It seemed like vomiting had done a number on the younger’s throat already. “I … I didn’t think it was so bad until it suddenly was.”

“Don’t be sorry, Jihoon-ah”, Hoshi scolded, without any malice in his voice, “you’re sick, it happens.”

“Well, I don’t want to be sick”, Woozi grumbled, resembling a petulant and whiny child especially with his stature being dwarfed by Hoshi and Joshua. While the two were certainly not the tallest of the group, they were still much bigger than the producer they were sandwiching and who had curled up into a small ball of misery.

“I know you don’t”, Joshua placated him, “but you currently are and I’m sure you’ll feel better once home and laying down, hm?”

“I gu …”, Jihoon agreed but suddenly went quiet in the middle of his sentence, face tinting a bit greenish. Seungcheol could see how badly he didn’t want to be sick again though it was obvious it was inevitable. The harsh, forceful swallowing and the short breaths were a clear sign of impending vomiting.

“Shua, why don’t you go sort out everything so we can leave as soon as possible?”, the leader suggested, though it definitely was more of a command. Jihoon easily was overwhelmed with so many people around him when sick and while Joshua had seen him get sick before, Woozi would appreciate it if he left them alone. 

Since they were trainees Seungcheol had always been the one Jihoon had sought out when sick (or at least when he couldn’t hide it anymore) and over the years he reluctantly allowed Hoshi to care for him too. Also that might have to do with the facts that a) Hoshi had a soft spot for the producer and b) Woozi had an even bigger soft spot for the dancer. And c) - while he never would admit it - since he was the youngest of the three leaders, Woozi was their baby and he trusted them more than anyone.

Luckily, Joshua seemed to know that and he quickly got up to leave, squeezing Seungcheol’s shoulder before vanishing. The leader scooted a bit closer to Woozi, who - now that it was only the three of them were left - had brought the bag to his mouth.

“It’s okay, Jihoon-ah”, Seungcheol soothed and Hoshi added: “Don’t worry, it’s just us.”

Apparently that was enough or maybe Woozi couldn’t hold it back anymore. He gagged dryly a few times and then with a disgusting sounding retch, sick spilled into the bag. Seungcheol had originally planned on just staying with them and not crowding Woozi, especially since Hoshi was already holding back his long, blond hair and rubbing his back, but he saw how much Woozi’s hands were trembling. Fearful that he would not be able to keep ahold of the bag and the consequences of that, Seungcheol reached over and helped hold open the bag - though he definitely would have loved doing anything but. The bites of rice from earlier were barely digested and looked the epitome of disgusting as they came back up.

Woozi’s retches and gagging were the only sound ringing through the silence, occasionally interrupted by Hoshi murmuring soft reassurances how Woozi was going to be okay and that he was doing great. Every wave of nausea seemed to force its way out of the producer, his back heaving with the effort. Seungcheol imagined that the poor younger man’s stomach muscles would probably be pretty sore tomorrow at the latest. The force of the illness seemed to overwhelm the small body; despite having bulked up a lot after working out for so long there was still a fragility to him. Tears were streaming down Woozi’s cheeks and Seungcheol hurt for him.

Suddenly everything was over and Woozi collapsed to the side, his head falling against Hoshi’s shoulder in a way that looked painful but didn’t seem to disturb the producer. It was then that Seungcheol was glad he was holding onto the bag because the rest of Woozi’s strength seemed to leave his body and his grip loosened. 

Seungcheol moved the bag to the side and tied it off to be disposed of at a later point in time. 

“Do we have water?”, Woozi rasped, letting Hoshi wipe his tears with the older man’s sleeve, “I’m thirsty.”

While it definitely was a good sign that Woozi showed signs of wanting to drink and staying hydrated, it probably wasn’t the best idea, considering he had just thrown up twice in the span of less than twenty minutes. 

“I’ll text somebody …”, Seungcheol started but was distracted as Hoshi looked over at some point above his shoulder. When he turned around he saw Wonwoo walking towards them, a bottle of water, some wet wipes and a couple of trash bags in his hands. Impeccable timing. Wonwoo should definitely get the award of “dongsaeng of the month” and if there wasn’t one, Seungcheol would create it specifically for him.

While the rapper looked a bit awkward, a bit stressed, he just handed the items to the leader without hesitation. “I got you some supplies and the director insisted that I tell you he hopes that Woozi-ah feels better soon”, he said, scrunching up his nose again to keep his glasses from slipping, “uhm, manager-nim asks if you are ready to go back. We’ve shuffled the seating order a bit, so you three can go in one car alone. If you’re not ready, a manager will stay here with you until you are. The rest of us will go back soon nevertheless.”

Hoshi sighed and looked down at the sleepy producer in his arms, hand coming up to play with his hair. “What do you think, Hoon-ah? Ready to go back?”

“I doubt I will feel better soon”, Jihoon answered, meaning it doesn’t matter when I go I will feel awful no matter what and I’d prefer to be home soon. At least that’s what Seungcheol guessed from experience.

“Give us a few minutes until you all come back to the cars, Wonwoo-yah”, Seungcheol decided, “we’ll get him to drink something and into the car. Once we’re home I’ll come with them to their dorm.” He gestured at Hoshi and Woozi. “If Jeonghan and Seungkwan want to shower, tell them to go to one of the other dorms. Wait, you know what, tell them to go to a different dorm anyhow.”

“Alright”, Wonwoo said and hurried off, taking the bag of sick with him. Seungcheol appreciated it a lot, yet was also thankful that Jihoon didn't seem to notice. He could only imagine how much the younger would have hated to see somebody deal with that because of him.

“Alright”, Hoshi echoed, “try to take a few sips, slowly, so you don’t make yourself sick again.” Seungcheol opened one of the bottles and, still not trusting Woozi’s shaking hands, he tipped the bottle against his lips. Woozi took in a mouthful of water before signaling the leader to stop. For a moment both hip hop and dance leader were worried he was about to be sick again but the vocalist just swished the water in his mouth before leaning over to the side to spit it out.

“My mouth tastes awful”, Woozi complained. Fair enough, Seungcheol mused, knowing the younger hated that. Maybe they could find a breath mint for him somewhere. With thirteen members it was a guarantee that somebody would likely have the item you were looking for. But still, Woozi was thirsty so Seungcheol helped him take a few sips, slowly as Hoshi had advised.

When Seungcheol pulled the bottle away Woozi pouted a bit, clearly not happy. 

“You can have more later when you were able to keep that down, okay?”, Suengcheol soothed.

“Fine.”

“Let’s clean you up a bit and then we’ll go sit in the car and we’ll be back home in no time”, Hoshi suggested and took a wet wipe from the box. For a moment Seungcheol was sure that Jihoon would protest the treatment but it was something about Soonyoung’s soft gaze that seemed to let the protests die on his tongue.

Hoshi gently wiped Woozi’s mouth - the rest of his face was clean enough and would have to wait for makeup remover - and his hands. Now that the immediate action had died down, Seungcheol dared to ask: “How is the headache?”

“Not so good”, Woozi mumbled, “I really want to sleep.”

“Soon”, Seungcheol promised, “let’s get you up and into the car. Are you ready to stand up?”

A nod. Hoshi quickly jumped to his feet, nearly losing his balance in his hurry, and went to open the car doors on the other side of where Woozi was still leaning back against the van. Seungcheol also got to his feet and reached down to help the producer to his feet for the second time that day. For a moment Woozi swayed and Seungcheol was prepared to lower him back to the ground but then he found his footing. 

“Do you want the front seat or would you like to sit in the back with us?”, the leader asked as they walked around the front of the car, one of his arms wrapped around the smaller’s shoulders. While Woozi didn’t tend to get motion sick easily - unless he was already feeling unwell, which he was - he still might prefer the passenger seat to watch the outside.

“I don’t want to be alone”, Jihoon whispered, not looking up from the ground. Seungcheol rubbed his upper arm in comfort. 

“You don’t have to be. Let’s sit you down, okay?”, Seungcheol answered and helped the younger step inside the van, where Woozi scooted through so he sat against the window on the opposite side to the door. Before Seungcheol could even question it, Hoshi had jumped into the seat beside him and started to fuss over the younger. Plastic bags were stuffed into a cup holder and a hand reached out to take Woozi’s.

Just as Seungcheol was about to enter himself the rest of the group approached to get into the other cars. They all were wearing looks of concern and since they all knew what had happened, the leader moved a bit away from their van to ask: “Does anybody have a breath mint? Peppermint? Something like that.”

Most of the group shook their heads but Seungkwan started to rifle through his bag until with a triumphant shout he held out one of these small metal cases containing mints. It probably had been some merch gift from an Europe tour and Seungcheol profoundly thanked him. The members quickly got into their respective cars and Seungcheol turned to do the same.

“Cheollie, wait”, Joshua called and he turned back around to find him, Wonwoo and Vernon shuffling from foot to foot in anticipation. “How is he?”

“Not good, still really nauseous. I don’t know what’s wrong but if it’s a stomach bug, we should probably quarantine their apartment so it hopefully doesn’t spread. I will stay with Jihoon-ah and Soonyoung-ah, Jeonghan and Seungkwan will have to deal with staying somewhere else.”

“I was with him too”, Joshua said softly, “I probably should join you.”

As loath as Seungcheol was to admit it, the other was right. He sighed. “I will ask Jihoon-ah if he is okay with you coming with us. Don’t take it personally, you know how he is.”

Joshua nodded and ushered the other two inside the car. The other van had already left. 

Seungcheol poked his head into their car, smiling softly at Jihoon who was sitting with his eyes closed, looking mostly asleep.

“He’s awake”, Hoshi said, seeing the hesitation. At that Woozi opened his eyes.

“Hey, I got mints for you”, Seungcheol said, waving the box before giving it to Hoshi to pass it along, “would it be okay if Shua came with us? In case you have the flu we’d like to quarantine everybody who was in close contact with you.”

“I guess”, Jihoon agreed, not looking happy but also not like he hated the idea, “I don’t want anybody else to get sick.”

“Thank you, Hoon-ah”, Seungcheol said and waved Joshua over. Quickly both of them climbed into the back with Seungcheol directly behind the sick member and Joshua behind Hoshi. The driver had already entered the car while Seungcheol was out and so they soon left.

💎

The drive obviously was very hard for the sick man. Within minutes a bag was laying open on Woozi’s lap for quick access. While Woozi had his eyes closed, leaning against the window with Joshua’s hoodie as a cushion, and Hoshi held his hand again there was an uneasiness about him. It was clear that no matter what he did, which position he tried to rest in, he couldn’t get comfortable. 

Jihoon held out a surprising thirty minutes, about half of their rather long drive, before his eyes shot open and he ripped his hand out of Hoshi’s soft grip to grab the bag. As soon as he had the bag in front of his mouth he was sick again. Having anticipated this, though not as sudden as it had come, Seungcheol leaned forward to gather his hair into his hands to hopefully spare it the mess. Soonyoung was rubbing Woozi’s thigh in comfort, again whispering comfort. Joshua, who had been listening to music before, turned to look outside the window, giving the younger some semblance of privacy.

As suddenly as it had started, the vomiting stopped and Jihoon gasped for breath. 

“Can I take this?”, Hoshi asked tenderly, indicating the full bag. Jihoon nodded and let the older take it from him. Seungcheol let go of his hair but continued playing with it knowing Woozi secretly liked the sensation of somebody rubbing his head. 

The younger sighed and slumped into his seat. Hoshi tied off the bag, put it into a second bag just to be safe, and then handed him one of the breath mints.

The energy in the van was low, exhausted, and it reflected as no further conversation took place. 

💎

It seemed like finally Woozi was able to sleep, however, and Seungcheol already dreaded waking him the moment they pulled into their dorm's garage. And indeed, as gentle as they were, they didn’t receive much more than eyes sleepily blinking open before falling shut again. 

They all knew how much Jihoon hated to be carried, shy of his body stature and the way he looked in comparison to other members even after all those years, but there was no way they would get him up to the dorm any other way. Luckily the others seemed to be in their dorms already and they needn’t fear meeting anybody on the way up.

So while Hoshi disposed of the bag of disgustingness and Joshua gathered most of their stuff, Seungcheol tried to lift Woozi into his arms despite having to stand ducked in the van. Finally, he managed to get a tight grip on the producer’s back and under his knees and with Joshua gently guiding him out backwards, Seungcheol stood cradling his dongsaeng to his chest.

“Let’s get him to bed”, Hoshi sighed, clearly very worried for his friend. The other two walked in front of Seungcheol, opening doors and pressing the elevator’s buttons. Woozi was deeply asleep against his chest, head resting on Seungcheol’s shoulder and he was even drooling a bit.

Once in the apartment, Hoshi pulled back the covers of Woozi’s bed so that Seungcheol could put him down. “Should we wake him to take some meds?”, Soonyoung asked quietly as they both watched the younger sleep for a moment.

“No”, Seungcheol decided, “let him sleep. We can change him out of his clothes and wipe his makeup off. If he happens to wake up during that we’ll see if he is up to taking anything but right now, I think, he should just rest. It’s just a matter of time until he is sick again, probably.”

Sadly, Seungcheol knew his last statement was likely very true. With all the hours spent at work, the long sleepless nights at the studio and Woozi’s less than amazing immune system, he was always down hard when he did finally admit to being sick. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right”, Hoshi agreed, “I’ll get the make-up wipes from the bathroom and see if Shua-hyung needs help finding stuff. Get him out of these clothes?”

Seungcheol nodded and considering their size difference it was relatively easy to get Woozi out of his shirt and jeans, well, as easy as undressing a limp ragdoll who was still rather big and muscular. But just as Joshua and Soonyoung entered again, carrying supplies in their hands, Seungcheol was done. The producer felt warm to the touch, probably the beginning stages of a fever, so it was probably best to not overwhelm him with heat. So Seungcheol had only pulled a fresh T-shirt over his head, leaving him in that and his boxers.

Joshua spread an old towel on the ground beside Jihoon’s head and placed a bucket on it for further emergencies. Hoshi had rounded the bed and now perched on the bed to carefully wipe off the make-up.

As the cool cloth touched his skin, Woozi opened his eyes sleepily. He barely seemed awake and let Soonyoung do as he pleased or just didn’t seem to notice. The younger was definitely not awake enough to swallow any medication - but Seungcheol wasn't too worried about that.

“Hey Hoon-ah”, Seungcheol said and took his small hand in his bigger ones, “you can go back to sleep if you want.”

They luckily had gotten forehead thermometers during the pandemic so there was no need for him to be awake to take his temperature. Joshua had stepped around Seungcheol and the bucket to hold the device to Woozi’s forehead, who really didn’t seem awake enough to notice.

With a frown, Joshua showed Seungcheol the reading of 38.6°C, a moderate fever and higher than expected. Even if the reading might be a bit inaccurate, there was no way the younger wasn’t feverish. The glossy look in his eyes was enough evidence of that. 

Woozi nodded slowly to Seungcheol's earlier statement and let his eyes fall shut. 

“I’ll get a cool cloth”, Joshua whispered and left. When he returned, Hoshi and Seungcheol had pulled the blanket over the shivering producer and Hoshi gratefully took the cloth from Joshua’s hand to fold it over Woozi’s forehead.

There was nothing else to be done but wait how the illness further unfolded.

“Go rest in the living room or whatever”, Seungcheol said with a sigh, sitting back down on Jihoon’s bed. “I’ll stay with him tonight, no need for all of us to stay awake.”

“That’s a good idea”, Joshua agreed and pulled a rather reluctant Hoshi with him out of the door.

💎

As expected, the sickness wasn’t over then. During the night Seungcheol was up with Jihoon multiple times, consoling his overwhelmed, feverish dongsaeng. Woozi had never been good at being sick. He barely let Seungcheol leave his side to wash out the bucket when needed, clearly not wanting to be alone. At least he managed to drink some water, even if it later came back up, and managed to keep down the fever reducers for about long enough that they might start to work.

Morning found Seungcheol exhausted but Jihoon with a less high fever. Joshua forced Seungcheol to sleep during the day, only waking him for a late lunch, so that his sleep rhythm wasn’t completely wrecked. Jihoon had only gotten sick once during the morning but he still didn’t really feel up to eating.

They had managed to relocate him to the couch, the bucket still within easy reach and the rest of the afternoon was spent watching movies and trying to keep their unwell producer awake so he could sleep through the night and hopefully feel better the next morning. Hoshi had even managed to find a hot water bottle to soothe the sore stomach muscles. 

At least they had not had schedules for that day.

Since the company rules were as such that nobody was allowed to work within twenty four hours after vomiting or a fever, Jihoon would have to stay home the next day as well but Seungcheol was fairly positive that he, Hoshi and Joshua could work around the schedule so that one of them would always be home with him just in case. None of them were feeling bad and so maybe, maybe it was just a single case of illness or maybe something Woozi had eaten.

💎

That thought held until Seungcheol woke up at four in the morning that day to sprint to the bathroom. Oh well…

Notes: This is my very first Seventeen fic, so please let me know if you liked it and if I characterized them right!

Masterlist links: Tafee - Full Masterlist Tafee's Masterlist - Seventeen

[wangxianficrecs]

💙 Love Song In Reverse by timetoboldlygo

💙 Love Song In Reverse

by timetoboldlygo (@timetoboldlygo)

T, 237k, Wangxian

Summary: Wei Wuxian gasps back into life without a single memory left. His friends, his siblings, his home — all lost to the fog in his head, nothing more than a mystery slipping through his fingers. What else was there to do but carry himself around in bits and parts, trying to become whole, a letter waiting to be written? He is – he is Mo Xuanyu, isn’t he? In this body, with these people. This family. He has to be Mo Xuanyu, he didn’t know anything else, even if the name sounded wrong. That was all he had. Well, that and Hanguang-jun. Lan Wangji, for his part, has had his taste of love and lost it. In all his grieving and searching, he didn’t expect to find another. - Wei Wuxian gets resurrected, loses his memories, and falls in love. Kay's comments: I devoured this fic, I binged it and it really got its claws in me. I could barely put it down because it had me that hooked. There were so many moments in this story that just peeled my heart open and made me ache in the best way possible. In which Wei Wuxian gets resurrected as per canon, but without his memories. Canon unfolds and of course, he falls in love with Lan Wangji. At the same time, we have Lan Wangji who slowly falls for "Mo Xuanyu" and feels as if he betrays Wei Wuxian. So many misunderstandings and miscommunications and they are struggling, but it all pays off in the end with a wonderful catharsis. Character-wise it feels more The Untamed-like and there's also some background SangCheng and features some stunning fanart! Excerpt: But Lan Wangji was already looking at him, eyes steady. He’d drawn his hands back to rest on his knees. “What do you need?” He could just pretend he hadn’t asked for anything. Lan Wangji would probably let it go; he wasn’t one to push if he didn’t think it was necessary. And it was a horrible feeling to ask this. But he’d said all those stupid words for a reason, so he let the rest fall of his tongue, water droplets on the lake. “Can you say my name?” Lan Wangji did an amazing impression of raising a dubious eyebrow without moving a single muscle. Mo Xuanyu wished for just a second that Lan Wangji was the sort of man who would just take a request like this with no questions, instead of making Mo Xuanyu unravel all the feelings knotted up in his chest. “It’s just that — I don’t have anyone else to say it. Informally, I mean.” There was no one who might call him gently. Xuanyu, his mother might have said. A-yu, come along! And he couldn’t bounce back at her, dragging his feet and demanding carry me, shijie, Xianxian is only three! I’m not tall enough! There was no one at all who might call him anything but a title and it was lonelier than anything Mo Xuanyu could hope to explain. There was no one who could hope to know him more intimately than a “Mo-gongzi.” “Ah, it’s okay if you can’t, I’m just—” “Mo Xuanyu,” Lan Wangji said, interrupting him. He paused, giving the name weight. “Mo Xuanyu.” The name Wei Ying from Lan Wangji’s lips had been cloaked in more warmth than Mo Xuanyu had heard from anyone before. Mo Xuanyu’s name didn’t sound like that. Lan Wangji said it the same way he said everything else. Serious, considered, but not warm.

pov wei wuxian, canon divergence, retelling, amnesia, memory loss, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, slow burn, falling in love, grief/mourning, misunderstandings, mistaken identity, miscommunication, sangcheng, good parents lan wangji/wei wuixan, past abuse, no homophobia, jiang cheng tries, somebody lives/not everybody dies

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[machinesonix]

Okay so chewing my way through Dune for the first time as an adult and there’s this chapter that’s got me wilding out so hard I’m basically just gonna paraphrase it here. Obviously concessions need to be made when switching mediums and I think the films have done a splendid job, but I think they sorta took the teeth out of this one.

When the Atredies first touch down on Dune, Lady Jessica is introduced to their groundskeeper, an elderly Fremen woman called ‘the Shadout Mapes.’ Now Mapes is extremely excited to meet a member of the Bene Gesserit, from which Jessica correctly concludes the ministoria protectiva has been here seeding the local mythology with favorable propaganda. Like a good third of the new movie is screaming about how fucked up all that is, so I will curb my enthusiasm to explain what the funny words mean in exhaustive detail, but suffice to say the Space Mom Cult secretly shapes cultures all across the universe to recognize them as cool people that everybody ought to listen to when they show up. So Jessica immediately code switches into Ominous Witch Mode and shows off some of her preternatural powers of observation by calling out the Shadout Mapes for having a weapon on her. In the movie the knife is a gift. The book has a little more nuance that has me absolutely salivating.

Mapes flips out and shows her the knife, which later we’re gonna learn is made from a worm tooth. She explains that Jessica might be the One, and if she is, the knife belongs to her. If she isn’t then she’s gonna kill Jessica with it because now she already knows too much. And to put her to the test she asks her what the knife is. Jessica hopes to establish her credibility by being well versed in ancient tongues, and intends to call it the ‘maker of death’ because in the language that the word ‘Shadout’ is derived from that’s the idiomatic translation of ‘knife.’

Instead Mapes starts screaming in religious fervor as soon as she hears the word ‘Maker.’ Because the worms make the spice, see. Jessica absolutely triples down on this, and this is what drives me wild. Immediately after narrowly escaping murder by a lucky stroke of linguistics she’s like FUCK YOU, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE NOT THINKING I WOULD RECOGNIZE THE MAKER. IN FACT, I’M GONNA STAB YOU NOW. Like okay, what she actually does is go ‘Mapes, now that the blade’s been drawn who’s blood is it gonna taste?’ And here I just have to say hats off to the Bene Gesserit for their training in genre awareness. Jessica has absolutely no idea of any of the customs surrounding a crysknife and risks blowing her cover here to flex even harder. She’s right, of course, and lets the Shadout Mapes off with just a scratch. It turns out Fremen have hypercoagulant blood which is not terribly important but still kinda cool.

So to put a bow on all of this, the Shadout Mapes ends up saying something along the lines of ‘She is the One, she will free us.’ This shocks Jessica. She recognizes this line from the ministoria protectiva, and knows that only the super fucked up horrible places wind up with the ‘we will save you from your oppressors’ prophecies. And I just love it because here we've got a microcosm of what this is all about. The ministoria protectiva did exactly what it was supposed to do and saved a Bene Gesserit life because Mapes heard her own religion in what's basically a cold read con. This exploitative power is so intense that Mapes is willing to give Jessica her life; there's no reason for a Fremen to expect somebody is going to show mercy with a crysknife. And then when she's feeling at her highest and mightiest she gets a wake up call. These people have context.

The Fremen don't have their finger on the pulse of galactic politics. They know there is a limited amount of moisture in their atmosphere and that the off-worlders in the palaces are going to take enough of it to keep themselves comfortable. As far as they're concerned, the Atredies are basically Harkonnens with better personal hygiene. The freedom the Shadout Mapes is talking about is freedom from Jessica's family. The ministoria protectiva doesn't exist in a vacuum. The Fremen's history of oppression has become inseparable from what was meant to be a means to control them.

[maikissed]

being a girl in love III

Kylian Mbappé x reader, au

I like these two, I've decided to give our girly a name in this one, planning to make more chapters because why not 🤭 I used some french, so forgive me for any wrong spelling haha Anyway enjoy!

warning: soft smut

As she stood at the end of the room with her eyes glued in one direction she felt like a main character of an exhausting satire in which love as it is all around seems to avoid her at all costs, making her yearn for it to come and embrace her, yet instead flee away every time she tries to reach for it, laughing at her face as it does. Is it a curse of a young soul? To feel the love that instead of filling you it’s leaving you hollow? Or is it a tragedy of all human being? To feel at all?

Breathing steady she watched him being surrounded by a group of girls, each of them so hungry for his attention. He’s always been this person, confident and so charismatic, full of magnetism, making everyone drawn into him. But lately he’s been turning into something even bigger, a star, and he was shining already, she could see that clearly. Those wonderful opportunities that kept coming to him made her proud and joyful, of course! But it kept digging at her heart at it’s best, taking him away from her. She wondered how much time has she left, to see him the way she has had all this time.

She brought the tall glass up to her lips feeling slightly ridiculous standing there stiffly, dressed in a carefully selected little outfit. It wasn’t something provocative yet the short tennis skirt that revealed her long legs started bugging her, bringing in thoughts as if she tried too hard to drawn eyes to her. And there she was, hiding in a corner in a pretty, neat skirt and her lips glossy.

“Do you need a refill?” she heard somebody’s voice on her right.

Still holding the glass near her lips she brought her eyes to the side to meet with a very bright blue ones of a boy at least two heads taller than her. Quite pleasant height difference, she thought. But without a word she simply handed him her glass still half full of the drink and passed him, heading straight to the stairs that lead to the second floor of the house. At least she was at her place, so she choose to hide for the rest of the night somewhere where she can stop pretending. And she didn’t realise that somebody’s dark curious eyes followed her up. 

She didn’t mind the loud noises echoing through the walls, though it was slightly quieter as she curled up on her bed with a book in her hands. Unfortunately she could not focus on the words displayed in front of her, as she kept re-reading sentences and turning back pages to understand the strand of the plot. What was it again? But what can be done, the one who loves must share the fate of the one he loves*.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door of the room. It startled her.

“Zoe? Are you in there?”

She froze when she realised it was Kylian’s voice, still she got up and reached for the knob. The first thing she felt was his fresh, citrus scent, then she felt her heart at the bottom of her stomach. God, so that’s what they meant when they said love makes one stupid.

“Why did you sneak out so quickly?” he asked effortlessly.

“I was bored”

He simply nodded at her answer, briefly looking behind her as if to check if she was alone.

“Can I come in?” his voice low and calm.

After letting him inside she headed back straight to the bed and he followed. It didn’t surprise her at all. It has happened before.

She snorted noticing him making himself comfortable with his head rested on the biggest fluffy pillow in her collection.

“Were you not enjoying the party?” she asked curiously, grabbing back the book that laid on the nightstand.

“I got a bit tired”

“What is it? You don’t like it?” her index finger rested at the edge of the book page.

“What?” he curiously turned his head in her direction.

“The attention” she looked back at him.

His eyes were so dark, it might have the power to hypnotize against your will. But she looked nonetheless.

A smug smirk appeared on his face, the one that always made him look like a cocky bastard. She loved it. She bit the inside of her cheek trying to surpass the foolish grin.

“It’s nice but I don’t really care for it”

She gasped sarcastically.

“A teenage boy, does not care for a women attention” imitating a shocked face she laughed afterwards.

He rose up on his elbow to face her. A gentle smile still visible on his face.

“So we’re talking about women attention?”

She rolled her eyes focusing back on the open pages on her lap.

“You’re getting a lot of it” she shrugged.

“Is that wrong?” his voice turned lower.

She stiffened. The paper under her palm started turning tacky.

“No..” she replied drawlingly.

Her features frowned in concentration as she pretended to read her book in utter fascination.

“What are you reading?” changing the subject he did not move the slightest.

She could feel his heavy gaze on her. The ghost of their previous conversation still lingering above them.

“Master and Margarita”

“What is that?”

“It’s a novel of Russian literature”

“Sounds tough”

She smiled at his answer.

“Would you read to me?”

His question struck her dumb. She brought her eyes up to look his way. His expression softer than before.

“Out loud?”

His eyes glinted in amusement as he noticed her confusion. It was really sweet, her eyes turned round and sparkly.

“You can whisper if you prefer. But you have to move closer or I won’t hear very well” he joked laying his head back on the pillow.

She considered. Looking back at the top of the chapter she cleared her throat with intention to read the first sentence. But surprisingly something different left her mouth. And she almost bit off her own tongue at the sound of it:

“Did you fuck Lea?”

She could feel a little stir on the side, but did not dare to look.

“Is that in the book?” he asked.

“No, it was a question” she commented almost bringing herself in dismay of this straightforwardness.

But it was done.

“Who’s Lea?”

She shot him a scolding look. She chose to act insolent and he decided to play dumb. What a fantastic combination.

“That friend of yours? I don’t really know her. What kind of question is that?” his voice turned stern and it made her uncomfortable.

She regretted the question deeply.

“Forget about it” she shrugged trying to stand up but he caught her arm in time, making her sit back down.

“Zoe” he murmured searching for her eyes.

Oh, she was in trouble. She looked up into his big eyes and felt so, so stupid. Why she has to be so stupid? A little wrinkle appeared between his brows.

“I made a mistake, sorry” she tried to play it off, because something was seriously wrong here.

She could read in his expression that he would not let it pass forgotten so she sighed in surrender.

“She said that you were together at Theo’s party few weeks ago”

“Doing what?”

“Kylian” she protested begging him in her thoughts to not make her say it.

He moved, sitting back and leaning his back against the pillows.

“You started it” he snapped back.

It angered her that he was so agitated with this subject. Maybe she had no right to ask, but she did not like this attitude he was showing.

“I don’t know what she said to you but I didn’t touch her, ever. That’s fucked up”

“So she lied, it’s settled”

She stood up feeling the urge to create some space between them since the atmosphere switched from warm and friendly into an awkward quarrel. Looking at the clock on the dresser she realised the time was very late and she would love to change from her indecently short skirt to some comfortable sleep shorts. The weight of the silence that formed in her room squeezed at her throat. She wondered what he was thinking about now, glad that he actually denied if something ever happened between him and her friend. Or maybe he was the one who lied, but why would he feel the need to?

She heard the movement on the bed behind her and tensed wondering if he’s going to leave her because of this pathetic act of impudence directed his way. And she will regret it to the point where it starts eating at her heart.

“Come here” he called to her, gently but his low and deep voice caused shivers to run down her spine.

The word choice almost knocked her out. A demand that made her legs go weak. And how dare he make her feel like this? Small and so full of desire that she couldn’t even think straight? Was it his intention to fuck her up all the way?

As a stubborn and proud girl she was she turned around keeping a vexed face on. He was sitting at the edge of the bed with his elbows propped on the knees.

“Are you trying to boss me around in my own room?” a shaky breath out.

He did something and she noticed. He eyed her down, eyes high on her legs. God.

“I’m sorry” he snickered “Zoe, would you please come and sit next to me?”

She hesitated biting on her lip. Slowly she approached him and he straightened up.

“I’ve never been with a girl” he confessed looking at her confidently.

For a moment she stopped breathing, surprised by his words, confused since she was sure he must have already reached for something that’s been presented to him on a plate. These girls has been dying to have a moment with him, to talk about nothing with him, to spend time in his presence, to touch his arm, to lend him notes if he asked or a goddamn pen during class. He had so much confidence and charm around him, there was no way… But he spoke the truth and he wasn’t ashamed of it. She saw it in his eyes.

She spoke nothing back yet.

“You? Have you been with someone?” he asked looking away and she went stiff.

“No” her voice weaker that she thought it would be.

“I saw you with Jules couple of times” he fiddled with his fingers and she frowned in curiosity.

He broke the character, it was a sign of nervousness.

“He’s not exactly someone I want” she whispered observing his reaction.

Finally he looked back at her and her heart stopped once again. Wherever this was going she surely is going to loose her mind in the meantime.

“So” he continued “There is someone”

She nodded slowly.

“Do I know him?” he frowned blinking fast as if unsure if he should even ask.

“Mhm” she murmured fighting the need to kiss him now in this moment, her body full of doubt if it won’t be another tremendous mistake of hers.

But he saw something in her eyes. She wasn’t sure what but his own iris shone so vividly and shortly after he reached with his hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. A breath caught in her throat. He heard that.

Her loving heart almost burst through her chest, pumping the hot blood in every vain as if it was bringing back life into her limbs.

Unexpectedly he wrapped his arm around her middle and pulled her closer to him, one of her legs bent at the knee met with his hip so he put the other over his thigh to minimalize the distance. Her skirt hiked up ridiculously high and it hit her again, the need. She was so unexperienced but she wanted to strip herself bare in front of this boy, to show him it belonged to him. Since the first moment she started changing into a woman.

They both weren’t sure what to do then, so the next moments were full of deep stares, their breathing mixing and their hearts beating to each other. So sweet and so blissful it felt like a dream.

Bringing up her hands she put them on his nape thinking about nothing else but his lips so close. She couldn’t tell who leaned in first but when they finally kissed something instantly switched inside of her as she came to the realisation that he wanted her the same way she wanted him. And she had him here, under her palms. Both of them a bit nervous about the gentle contact yet determined to have a proper taste of each other. She opened her mouth feeling his tongue grazing her lower lip and an uncontrolled moan left her throat when it connected with hers. He wasn’t her first kiss but it felt so new, she’s never been kissed this way. He broke the contact at the little sound and the look on his face was so full of desire it made her head spin. Two horny teenagers at the verge of resilience.

All of a sudden in the midst of it all there was a knock on the door. The noise from downstairs came back more prominent and the reality struck her hard. Someone pulled at the doorknob shortly after and she froze in distress. Luckily the door was locked.

“Zoe?” she could tell it was her brother “Have you seen Kylian?”

She locked eyes with Kylian, watching a mischievous smirk appearing on his face.

“Je dors, Anto (I’m sleeping)” she answered, her voice suspiciously shaky.

Her brother was definitely too drunk to notice anything misplaced. Kylian squeezed her thigh and she jumped nervously sending him a scolding look.

They waited a few seconds but there came no response, only some voices disappearing down the corridor.

“They’re going to kill me” Kylian muttered placing a hand on her cheek, thumb tracing her lips delicately.

“My brothers?” she placed her hands on the boy’s chest, making him rest against the pillows.

Carefully she straddled him, positioning herself in the most perfect way it made his eye widen. She could feel him already and all the muscles in her tummy twitched making her loose her breath for a second. She had a lot of trouble breathing tonight.

“You’re a big boy Mbappé, you can handle them”

His hands reached for her hips as if to stop her from any movement or to try and guide her against him. Yet he stayed still, his touch soft but firm. That magical feeling she tasted back then in the river came back thousand times stronger.

“Are you planning to stay and hide in my room till the morning?”

“All alone with you in this bed? It’s risky” he murmured admiring her seated on top of him.

It struck her with a huge dose of confidence. She lowered her upped body, placing her hands on each side of his head. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, pupils blown wide with his mouth slightly ajar. She was mesmerized at the sight of him, her dream boy, she intended to keep him hers. She felt she had all the power right now to make it that way.

She leaned in and kissed him gently before moving away to grab the edges of her sweater to pull it off her body. His eyes glinted as if he was a little boy gifted the fanciest present he could ever dream of. She watched him intake a big breath.

“I’m a dead man” he shook his head as his eyes roamed her chest covered by a silky material of the bra.

She liked this one, so she was glad she wore it tonight. Small victories. 

She smirked watching him get up to pull her closer to his chest. Tingles spread quickly all over her body after he placed his hot lips on her collarbone, tracing the delicate skin of her neck to finally reach her mouth. He hummed into the kiss making her press herself firmly against him. It stunned both of them as they could feel their bodies respond to this intimate touch.

“Merde” he breathed “Can this pretty skirt go?”

She smiled shyly at his question, moving away from him to stand up, confidently reaching for the zipper of the clothing, making sure she’ll make a little show of taking it off. She slid the material off her hips and down her thighs slowly, his eyes following the movement in utter fascination. Zoe blushed furiously as he focused his attention on her clothed sex.

“It’s not fair” she said “You’re fully clothed”

He smirked amused.

“I’ll undress if you do a spin”

The requirement made her chuckle.

Oh, boy.

“Am I a model at an exhibition?” she bantered.

“Tu es la plus belle fille sur laquelle j'ai jamais posé les yeux (You are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid my eyes on). Please, can I see you?”

The look on her face turned serious. Her heart squished with affection, she’s never heard such words filled with admiration of her beauty. Easy way to make a girl fall for a boy, but she trusted him.  

A bit unsure she took a step taking her time to turn around, letting him observe her body as he wished. Gentle move, she felt as if wasn’t sexy enough to impress him. He was already on his feet when she faced him, taking his shirt off swiftly. She blinked quickly feeling her cheeks heat up at the sight which wasn’t new to her, it’s the situation so knew and so exciting. Stepping closer he reached for her, pulling her closer, his nose nuzzling her ear.

“Your heart is beating so fast” he whispered and she giggled remembering their little moment in the river.

Guiding her fingers lower down his chest, taking pleasure in the feeling of his silky skin under her palms, she reached for the button of the pants he was wearing. She was desperate to feel him again against her. Looking into his eyes she searched for permission.

“Go on” he murmured, his hands low on her back.

He brought his lips back to her throat, the sensation made her close her eyes, head thrown back, fingers shaky at the top of the zipper of his pants. She whimpered when he bit down at the skin near her ear. His pants already on the floor. Taking her hand in his he guided them back to bed.

I really just cut it in the most interesting moment.........

*Michaił Bułhakow, Master and Margarita, 1967

[cactiandtumbleweeds]

Demanding (Mahito x Reader)

I was challenged to write the softest Mahito I could. I might try it against at some other point but for now, enjoy this:

CW: None

~

You felt his weight against your back while waiting in line; arms slithered their way around your front and long hair cascaded over your shoulders, tickled your cheek as it fell. You laughed a little at the unexpectedness and tilted your face to the side.

“I told you it wouldn’t be long until we saw each other again.”

“You’re going to make me look insane,” you whispered, all too aware of the crowd around you – none of them could see the man leaning so heavily against you, nor hear his words.

“Why do you care? It’s not like any of these people matter to you.” Mahito brought his lips close to your ear, fully aware of the gooseflesh he caused. “And would they really be so wrong?”

You shrugged a little with your free arm. “Maybe not. I am taking to myself, after all.”

Sometimes you wondered if it could be all in your imagination – wrapped up in the arms of man nobody but yourself could see. Then again, you’d seen him interact with the world around you and you’d had to remove his hair from the shower drain frequently enough to believe he was, at the very least, real in some way.

A man jostled his way past you, making you wince. Mahito’s grip tightened, pulling you closer into him. “You don’t want to be here. You should just leave – look at how uncomfortable it makes you.”

“I can’t. A friend has work and I owe him one. He loves this idol so much; I have to get him one of those signed poster things. I won’t be long.”

“Well, rather than wait here for ages, you can steal one off somebody leaving.”

You shook your head though the warmth of his voice when he lowered it always managed to pull a smile from your lips. “You’re an awful influence, do you know that?”

He chuckled. “I’m not. Who decides if something is bad or not anyway?”

“Stealing is wrong?”

“Accourding to who?”

“Me.”

He sighed dramatically as though you could actually stop him from doing something. How does one explain the concept of right and wrong to a creature whose entire life spoke of the latter. Something abnormal formed from the hatred pulsing between people.

Yet still a being you allowed to drape himself over your shoulders and whisper awful into your ears with no complaint. Maybe he really had a point about your sanity.

You leaned back against him, trying to make sure you didn’t appear strange as you did so. He played with the hem of your shirt, chilled fingers slipping beneath to the skin there.

“I was busy thinking while you were away,” he hummed. “And I’ve decided what I want to transfigure you into. You would do so well.”

“Really?”

The teasing brush of his fingers turned to a full palm, pressed flush to your hip bone. “Yes. I want to carry you around with me all the time so I’m going shrink you all the way down. Then I’d never have to worry about where you are.”

Your pulse quickened a little at the treat but instead of moving away, you shifted your weight and pushed against his hand. If he’d been human, you would have worried about his circulation. No matter what you did, he never warmed up.

“I think if you wanted to, you would have transfigured me already.”

“What if I only decided that I wanted to do it today? Imagine how all these people would scream when they noticed.”

“Then do it. If you really want to.”

He chuckled and thought about it for a few seconds. Several very drawn-out seconds where you wondered whether or not you trusted the curse enough.

And then he laughed, soft and low in your ear. He released the press against your side and went back to tracing circles over your waist. “Maybe not yet. I want to find a way to keep your pretty face intact first. I like looking at you too much.”

“Well, the best way to do that is leave me in my human form.”

He pressed a small kiss against the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “But you’d be so cute, you know. And you’d be even better than any other I’ve ever made.”

“It’s so sad you’ll never get to see me that way then.”

“I could.”

“You won’t.”

It may be arrogant of you but the confidence you’d gained around the curse grew with each passing day. Maybe it would lead to your death eventually but maybe… just maybe it would be worth it in some way.

After all, you couldn’t say Mahito’s company or attentions were unwelcome.

The line continued to move forward and you a step, practically dragging the curse behind you.

“Why are you hanging off me?”

“I want you to carry me.”

“I can’t. Not now at least.”

The man standing in front of you turned slightly, frowning over his shoulder. You made a vague gesture, pretending to tap a non-existent earphone as an explanation. One day, you should buy an actual one to excuse how often you speak to yourself.

It got embarrassing to be stared at.

Mahito sighed dramatically. “How boring.”

“I know. The waiting in line thing is awful which is why I didn’t invite you in the first place. I knew you’d be done after a few seconds.”

“Then let’s just go home and do something more fun. Look, I’ve already got what you needed.”

You turned, confused to see a third appendage wrap around your waist, holding a signed poster before you. Mahito’s pride smile only grew.

“Who did you steal that from?”

“Somebody who’s already long gone. Come on, we can just go back to the house and do something fun.” His eyes danced with excitement and you sighed, unable to deny him anything when he looked up at you from beneath lowered lashes.

“Fine, but it’s still not right.”

“Mm, if you say so.”

[vaya-writes]

Infernal Assistance (Option Four) - 2

You’ve been struggling to survive in a zombie apocalypse. Things are looking really bad before a demon swoops in to help. But that demon is an incubus. And he’s in need of help too.

-

Reader (GNC pronouns, AFAB, asexual spectrum) x incubus (cis male). Situationship. Allies to lovers. Zombie apocalypse AU. Banner by saradika-graphics. Wordcount: 2300.

Content Warnings: apocalypse setting, discussion and mild depiction of malnourishment, light discussion of sex, off screen implied violence and gore.

Masterlist - A03 - Previous

You might have felt self conscious inviting a strange demon into your cramped little apartment, if you weren’t so hungry. 

Gesturing him in behind you, you don’t even spare him a glance as you make a beeline to your pantry. There’s an open packet of crackers inside, a tupperware container of oats, and four small tins of assorted vegetables left.  

You don’t touch the crackers. Even stale, they can be eaten. You decide on a tin of beans today. If the fridge still worked you could ration out perhaps six meals from the tin (a bite and a half, three times a day, for two days). But you don’t want to get food poisoning on top of everything. So you’d consume the whole tin over the course of twenty four hours. Today’s lunch and dinner, and tomorrow’s breakfast. Three full bites per meal. Approximately.  

Your hands shake as you remove the pull-lid from the tin. You’re careful not to spill a drop of bean juice, bringing the rim to your lips and drinking. Your stomach clenches at the flavour and you take your time eating. You don’t know how long somebody has to forgo eating before reintroduction of foods becomes difficult. 

You make sure to chew each bean, even as you grimace at the flavour; they’re not something you enjoy eating by themselves. And when a third of the food is gone, you pull out your makeshift foil lid and fasten it over the tin. You put the food back in the pantry. 

“Food’s scarce for you too, huh?” Your guest speaks. 

You don’t reply for a minute. Your hands are still shaking. You’d like to go and lie down. To sleep off the rest of this awful day. But there’s still an important conversation to be had. So you take a deep breath and turn to face the demon. 

“Are you going to stay?” 

The demon stills for a moment. Perhaps surprised by your bluntness. Before relaxing. Gesturing to the couch.  

You sit, your knees drawn up to create a barrier between you and the demon when he perches on the other end of the couch. He’s massive, and takes up most of the available space. 

“You’ll let me feed on you?” 

You’ve already come to terms with that. If the incubus stays, you’ll have to keep him fed. But there’s no point in keeping him around just to watch you starve. He’ll need to earn his keep. And today, you negotiate how. 

“If you help me in turn.” 

He seems to sense your seriousness, and pivots to properly face you. “What do you need?” 

“For starters? Protection. From zombies. Thieves. Any other external threats.” 

He nods. “Simple enough. What else?” 

“I’ll need supplies. Food. Water. Potentially medicine. I’m willing to scavenge, but not alone.” 

Something in his face twitches. An expression masked. But he nods again. “I can play bodyguard. That all?” 

You consider your plan for the future. What you would have done, ideally, if you were braver. If there were less zombies in your building. If you were desperate. Or reckless.  

“Last request. I want you to head to ground floor and pick up the keys to the other apartments. A master key if you can find one. And then I want help clearing the zombies from them.” 

The demon crosses his arms. There’s that twitch in his face again, before he bites his lip. “This is a big building.” 

“And I’d like to clear it. One floor at a time. It’ll be the safest way to scavenge too.” 

“The husks might come back upstairs when we rest.” 

“We’ll build barricades.” 

He narrows his eyes. “You’ve thought this through.” 

“I’ve had little else to do.” 

There’s silence for a moment. You think he’s considering. But you keep talking. “Originally, I would have had to do this to open apartments only. But if they’re open, it’s probably for a bad reason. I doubt they’d be safe. If you get those keys for me, I can be more thorough, we won’t have to travel as far, I could create safe rooms on multiple floors... There’s a lot of advantages to bringing the whole building under our control.” 

He tilts his head. “You were planning to do this all along?” 

“No. Maybe. There was an even spread before. A zombie or two on each floor. It seemed more doable.” 

“Before you went and caused a horde.” 

You scowl. “I did no such thing. Somebody else entered the stairwell that day. Started screaming their head off.” 

He stares. It makes you a little uncomfortable the way he examines you, seemingly mulling over your request. Before finally, he shrugs. 

“I’ll help. But I won’t be of any use if I’m weak. We should discuss payment.” 

You can appreciate his bluntness. Even if the topic makes you uncomfortable.  

“I assume you mean sex.” 

“Or sexual acts, yes.” 

It’s hard to meet his gaze. You stare at his coat instead. “How often do you need to..?” 

His hesitation is slight, but you do notice it. 

“Once every day.” 

You try not to frown. Glance at his face. “I don’t know much about this sort of thing, but is that safe?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’ll be taking my energy, right? I’m already malnourished. Is it medically safe for you to feed on me that often?” 

His hesitation is more prominent this time. He lets out a sigh. “You’re right, it’s not ideal.” 

You don’t know how to reply to that. Just wait for him to continue. 

“I’ll be careful not to take much. We can play it by ear. Skip a day every now and then, if you need one.” 

You nod. Things are making sense, but you still have questions. 

“What do you need me to do?” 

“What would you like to do,” his reply is almost instantaneous, a hint of suggestiveness slipping into his tone. 

You try not to wince, but he spots your reaction.  

“What?” 

You shake your head. You don’t want to discuss your sexual preferences with a stranger right now. “Can we get into that later? I just want to know what’s expected. Or needed. I don’t mean to... insult you, I guess, but what is the minimum?” 

He stares for another moment. An indecipherable expression on his face while he, you assume, tries to read you.  

He tilts his head and shrugs, that suggestiveness gone. “I feed on your pleasure. If I were healthy and well fed, the absolute minimum would be sitting in the room next to you while you wank. But to start with, I’m going to need a lot more than that. You’re not the only one who’s malnourished.” 

“Do I need to get off?” 

Another long stare. It’s an effort to not feel judged, but he’s entirely professional when he replies.  

“Is that something you struggle with?” 

You really don’t want to have this conversation with a stranger. But if you’re going to be living with him, relying on him... you should probably be honest. Secrets and dishonesty don’t make for a firm foundation in a relationship.  

Not to mention, he’ll probably notice when you struggle. There’s no point in hiding it. 

But you can’t meet his eyes when you nod. 

He sighs. 

At the noise you can’t help but stiffen. Your jaw locks and you stare intently at a spot on the ground. 

This is usually a point of contention in any sexual relationship you have. That and your inconsistent sex drive. You wouldn’t be surprised if the demon were exasperated. Angry.  If his next words invalidate you, or if he’s going to act like being an incubus will magically fix your sexual woes.  

“What’s your name, pet?” 

You’re taken aback at the gentleness to his tone. It takes a moment before you can find your voice and tell him. 

“Charmed. You can call me Veron.” He offers his hand to shake, brevity lifting the tension for a moment when you take it. 

But his smile soon disappears as he sits back and looks serious. Addresses you by your name, before, “I’ll take what you can give me. An orgasm is like a solid meal, but as you know, it’s possible to survive on scraps. It will just take longer to get me up to full strength.” 

You swallow. Nod again.  

“There anything else you think I should know?” 

You shrug. You’re feeling pretty done with this conversation. Eye contact is getting harder. Conjuring up full sentences feels monumental. “Maybe. Probably. Nothing that’s a deal breaker, I don’t think.” 

He offers another smile, uses a casual tone. “You don’t prefer women?” 

“Uh-” 

“No particular revulsion towards demons or monsters?” 

You shake your head. “No strong preference. To either point.” 

He smiles a little more cheerfully. “Great! We can go over limits and boundaries and wants later if you like. But for now, would you say we have a deal?” 

You take a breath. “Yeah.” 

His smile stretches wider, and he places his hand over his chest. “I’ll keep you safe, scavenge with you, and help you clear this building. In return, you’ll feed me once each day, unless it becomes medically unsafe for you to do so. Yes?” 

You shake his outstretched hand once more. “Yes." 

“Then it’s a deal.” 

- 

You give Veron a brief tour of the apartment. The bathroom. The open plan living area/kitchen/lounge.  You show him the reservoir in the bathtub and teach him your water usage rules. The water stopped running when the power was cut. Since then, you've had to dole out your reservoir using a measuring cup whenever you need to do hand washing, or your occasional sponge bath.  

You don’t know how the zombie virus is transmitted, so you’ve been hesitant to drink any of the tap water. Instead, you rely on your store-bought reserves. You’d been down to a single bottle when you’d set up catchment on the roof.  

Veron surprises and absolutely thrills you with his display of prestidigitation. A snap of his fingers and the blood and viscera coating him disappears. Another snap and your layers of sweat and dust and grime vanish into the ether.  

Knowing that he’s capable of basic magic and needs only energy to fuel it is a weight off your mind. If anything, it’s more motivation to keep the demon fed. 

You offer him the couch as a bed. You don’t actually know if demons need to sleep. Some do – dreamers for instance. But aside from the sex stuff, you’ve no clue about the physiology of concubi.  

Lastly you take down the evacuation poster. Show him the map of the building. There are some amenities on the first floor, along with a maintenance room. The remaining six are dedicated to housing. One stairwell snakes up the side of the building, an elevator shaft sits at the other end, and hanging down the outside is a rickety and broken fire escape. 

You don’t know if the spare keys are kept on site, but if you’re lucky there might be copies somewhere. Checking the pockets of the local dead might be another option to find some. 

Veron process this information, and with a glance towards the window stands.  

“Okay. Today I’ll search the first floor. And make sure none of the husks in the stairwell will get back up.” 

You don’t want to dwell on what he means by that. You hadn’t realised that there were surviving zombies on the stairs. But you walk him to the door and wish him luck regardless. And then you’re left alone. 

- 

The sun has dipped well beyond the horizon when Veron returns. It’s dark and you have to light a candle before you open the door. He’s covered in sweat and blood, looking quite disgruntled; face set in a scowl.  

“You alright?” 

“Fine,” he grumbles, snapping away any blood splatter before stepping into your apartment. 

His posture is tense, and his jaw is set. It's obvious he’s in a bad mood. 

“Did something happen?” 

He reaches into his coat and pulls out a handful of keys, dropping them onto the counter with a sneered irreverence. “These were a pain to collect.” 

“Oh?” 

He shakes his head. “Don’t ask. I’ll just get mad.” 

You’re not one hundred percent, but you’re pretty sure he’s not directly mad at you. It’s a relief, and you’re able to crack a smile. “Got it. Thanks for this.” 

He waves the comment off, before rolling his shoulders. Gradually losing some of his stiffness. “What now?” 

You hold up your candle. “I’d like to save these for emergencies. And it’s too dark for me to see. So, I’m going to turn in for the night. I’ve made the couch up for you. I don’t know if you sleep or whatever but...” you trail off.  

He glances at the couch, at the blanket and cushions you’ve set out, and nods. “Sure. I’ll just... be here then. Until tomorrow.” 

You conjure up a polite smile. “Until tomorrow.”  

You put the candle out before heading to your room. Briefly wonder if you should lock your door before doing so. Sure, he could probably break it down if really wanted. But it puts your mind at ease.  

You let out a groan as you sink into your bed. Your back fucking hurts. It’s so good to be on a mattress, using a pillow. Enough so that even with all the trepidation, all the anxiety circling your thoughts, you’re soon out like a light. 

-

Next (to come)

[mars-mystic]

Hiii Glance is something I hadn't considered before at all, wanna share some of the appeal?

I am very confused but intrigued

I’m gonna let you in on a little secret nonny, follow me. *takes you by the hand and leads you through many well lit corridors, ending with a final door. It is simple, but welcoming, already propped open for you.*

This is where the magic happens. *you step into a room. It is brightly lit, and filled with animate conversation. However, neither George nor Lance is anywhere to be found*

What’s this, you say. I thought you were gonna show me the appeal of glance. *I nod, cryptically*

I am. *as we walk around the room you begin to notice a large group forming around one corner. As we walk by, a massive cheer goes up, turning everybody’s heads*

What was that, you ask.

They did a thing, I say, grinning. We’ll come back once you’ve finished your tour. *we walk around the room in companionable silence, a few eyes on us, watching me, watching you.*

Do you get it now?

It’s just a bunch of people in a room, you say, confused. I wanted the appeal. Tell me about their history, their canon events. Do they even interact at all?

Oh that doesn’t matter, I say with a smile. It’s all about the people. The community. We built this place for ourselves, for our stories. So that we could share them with each other, and you. That’s the appeal. Glance is whatever you want to make of it.

***

Ok but listen up. They do have history. The raced together all the time as kids. They have a rivalry. They were somehow always around each other. They share a birth year. They never talk to each other anymore. Doesn’t it make you curious? Don’t you wonder what happened? What’s going on?

That’s the beauty of glance, how little we know about them. We don’t know their full history, but we know enough to be compelled. The rest is all guesswork babeyy, and it’s FUN. (I’m sure there are people out there who could give you a better idea of their history, but that’s not me. I’m not the historian, I’m the propaganda department).

Their capacity for rivals to lovers is unMATCHED. One sided hatred, one sided rivalries. They are opposites. They are the same. Uptight vs laidback. Cares sooooooo much vs doesn’t give a shit. It shouldn’t work but it DOES.

They are both insane, but in different ways. Insane4Insane. It’s about balance.

***

Shall we peruse the bookshelf? When I got here we only had one (maybe two) pages on ao3. Now we’re at five and counting (let’s go squad!). List is obviously abridged and also woefully incomplete. (I’m not saying this is y’all’s BEST fic (i mean it might be), I’m saying I’m just a girl. Also don’t ask what the categories mean. They are based vaguely on publishing dates but also vibes.

Early works

1. Parallel Players by crimandclove (@parallelplayers). This TOME was my first intro to glance and let me just say… it was convincing. Compelling. Some would say life changing (I would). This is THE glance bible. Pretty sure all of us have drawn at least a little bit of inspo from it for our own fics (I know I have).

2. cheque please by weegreenbean (@weegreenbean)

I would be remiss in talking about glance without mentioning my beloved. Doing god’s work over in strollonso but also over here in glance nation. Shoutout to this one because I read it last night, and it is textbook Early Glance™️. And because you couldn’t pay me to pick a favourite, there are too many to choose from.

3. Kamikaze by pitconfirm (@pitconfirm). Now with sequel. And both make me want to scream. One of the first fics I read when I got here.

4. The Worst Way to Love Somebody is Quietly by LilShiro (@lil-shiro). Ok I also read this one last night. But it’s soooooooooo them.

Post-modern Reformation (or whatever)

1. off-schedule by Anonymous. Always worth a reread. Always making me insane

2. good luck, babe! by Anonymous. Another fic I read last night. This might just be a list of fics I read last night, now that I think of it.

3. Superposition by girlcowboy3 (@girlcowboy3)

4. I tried so hard to remember where, when, why, how- by abovecalamity (@abovecalamity)

Special Notes

- There is an abundance of girl!george and/or girl!lance fics around. I mean… it is rule 63. Only fair. They are ALL amazing, go check them out

- glance is where I first found out about the soulmate goose trope. That was an… odd but fun period in my life.

- some of you guys have a lot to say (which I love), but you only get ONE mention. HOWEVER I would highly recommend clicking on the little author name button and seeing where that gets you.

Thank you for the ask nonny, hope to see you around (whoever you may be). My inbox is open if you ever wanna chat <3

[wanderersbell]

under the mistletoe

wanderer x gn!reader

genre: fluff, modern!au

warnings: none

word count: 1467

a/n: merry christmas eve everyone! this is my early present for u (´,,•ω•,,)♡ i know this has already been done before but i couldn't resist - also wanderer goes by kuni in this and he deserves a million kisses. enjoy!

for somebody who swears they don’t even like christmas that much, kuni cannot help but feel appalled by the amount of ‘holiday cheer’ you’ve let loose in the apartment today. 

just watching you run around the place for hours stringing up lights and setting out other various decorations has begun to make him feel tired, and all he’s had to do so far is help out with handing you thumbtacks and holding you steady on the step ladder a few times. 

tinsel, a wreath, and even two stockings for each of you hang from the walls that were plain just this morning, and the faint sound of christmas music from the tv has been going for so long that kuni swears he’s heard the playlist repeat twice already. every time he offers to help, you shoo him away and insist you need to do it a certain way, so he stopped trying a while ago and has since been standing back and slowly but surely losing his patience with nothing to do. 

his hands are itching with the desire to help with something while you hang tiny ornaments on the miniature tree that sits at the kitchen counter, and it’s not long before he loses the internal battle to his restlessness. 

“those ornaments are hideous.” kuni comments dryly from behind you. leaning back into his chest until his chin is resting over your shoulder, you snort lightly at his words and start tugging a broken hook out of an ornament. 

“do you need something to do?” you ask teasingly. he can feel your shoulders shaking with silent laughter against him and hums noncommittally, wrapping his arms around your waist while you try to work a new hook through the tiny glass ball. 

“do you want to check the box in the closet for my christmas candles then? i thought i had them under the sink but they weren’t-“ before you can even finish explaining, kuni detaches himself from your back and briskly strides down the hallway, ready to be the best damn candle-finder there ever was. he can hear you chuckling under your breath as he goes but pays no mind to it as he yanks open the closet door. 

the candles are indeed tucked nicely away in a box buried under a pile of coats, so he takes his time carefully hanging them all back up on the rack before tucking the heavy jars into his arms to bring back to you. they rattle as he walk in time with the bells in the background music and kuni can already hear the joke you’re about to make in his head before he rounds the corner. 

“no way, it’s the real santa in the flesh!” you jokingly gush, exactly the way he expected you would, and he has to fight the urge to smile. 

“ho ho ho,” he drawls in a bland tone while depositing them on the counter in front of you. yet your attention is still on the small tree, and kuni can’t help but feel slightly irked by its existence at the moment. 

your brows are drawn together in concentration while you continue trying to fix the stubborn hook and try as he might, kuni only lasts 30 grueling seconds before he scoffs and outstretches his hand. 

“let me do it.” 

with a tiny defeated pout that absolutely does not make his stomach flutter, you give him the ornament and lean over the counter with your chin in your hands to watch him effortlessly bend the hook into place and secure it. 

kuni can’t help but smile smugly at the equal parts irritated and impressed look on your face, but nearly regrets it a moment later when you slide the rest of the balls over to him and stand up. 

“will you do the rest of them? please?” you ask, so sweetly that it nearly gives him a cavity. heaving a dramatic sigh but inwardly relieved to have something to do finally, kuni picks up the next one and starts working on it. “fine, i guess.” 

he can see you reach over to pull out a stool from the corner of his eye, but you pause midway and retract your hand. “actually,” you start, a thoughtful look passing over your face. “i forgot something else, i’ll be right back.” 

making a small sound of acknowledgement in response, too focused on the task at hand, kuni gets a total of ten ornaments done before he eventually realizes you still haven’t come back, and a suspicious feeling creeps over him at the complete silence from down the hall where you disappeared. 

you’re certainly not quiet when you look for things, and he hasn’t heard the sound of anything breaking or the bathroom door being closed, so it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you’re up to something. 

hesitantly, he puts the glass ball down and exits the kitchen to investigate your whereabouts. the door is cracked open when he approaches your shared bedroom, and he nearly jumps in surprise when he finds you standing off to the side of the threshold with a mischievous look plastered all over your face. 

“jesus-“ kuni gasps, giving you a half-assed glare. you say nothing, only continuing to stare at him, and it pulls an almost alarmed frown out of him. 

“what were you doing, why are you looking at me like that?” he asks cautiously. 

still you remain silent, but your eyes momentarily flick somewhere above him before going back to his indigo ones and he’s quick to tilt his head back and follow your line of sight.  

there, taped haphazardly above the door frame, hangs a single mistletoe with a red ribbon tied around the stem. there’s a tiny silver bell hot-glued to the side that he remembers seeing you pull off an ornament and hide in your pocket earlier, which he had chosen to ignore. 

when he snaps his head back down he’s met with your breathtaking dreadful smile and a hot white flash of embarrassment rushes from his ears all the way to his feet, painting his cheeks with a soft flush that only deepens when you close the small distance and bring your hand up to cup the side of his face.

“this is what you forgot?” kuni mumbles, hands instinctively finding their way to your sides where they rest firmly. you giggle quietly and nod, bringing your other hand up until you’re cradling his face so tenderly that his heart skips a few beats. your eyelashes flutter softly with anticipation, and he feels entranced by your meaningful lidded gaze. 

“mhm. and just like i predicted, you came looking for me and got caught in my trap.” your eyes crinkle with mirth when you say this and kuni swears he almost forgets how to speak for a moment. 

“you don’t need such a lame excuse to kiss me.” he huffs, unintentionally leaning into your touch. 

“no, i don’t.” you agree airily. “but i’d never pass up the perfect opportunity to do so.”

unable to handle the weight of your caring eyes any longer, kuni leans forward and catches your lips in a gentle kiss. he’s hyper aware of the way your thumbs brush over his cheekbones and the feeling of your body pressed against his. every nerve in his body lights up all at once where you’re connected as your lips slide together in an adoring dance. 

you’re so warm and grounding against him that he never wants it to end, prolonging the kiss as much as he can until you finally have to pull away for air. your warm breath fans across his face as you catch your breath, faces still so close together that your noses brush. 

when his eyes meet yours, they give away everything he feels in that moment, overflowing with reverence and awe. your left hand slowly trails up the side of his face until you’re running your fingers through his hair, brushing his dark bangs out of his eyes and behind his ear. he hums contentedly at the feeling of your nails against his scalp and isn’t even thinking when he turns his head to the side to press a searing kiss against your palm. 

this time, you’re the one who’s blushing, and the fondness bleeding through your gaze burns itself into his memory for years to come. 

“i have a few more,” you whisper against his lips after pressing another soft peck against them. “wanna help me put them up?”

the intention behind your question doesn’t get lost on him, and kuni has to close his eyes and take a few deep breaths to keep himself from melting into a love struck puddle on the spot. 

he definitely won’t be letting you forget the mistletoe next year.