#and being around him again is bringing back up all these feelings of hurt longing betrayal jealousy and inferiority
Note
dad!choso is on my mind. he’d be the sweetest husband/father to-be. i just know he’d hold our hand the entire time and say things like “i wish i could take this pain away from you.”
𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐀'𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘 .ᐟ
keeping up with the choso family
starring. choso x fem! reader
heads up. pregnancy, giving birth, you're in you're 20s during shibuya (around nanami's age), all information are from research.
note. NONNIE, FIRST OF ALL YES. I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS??? i just know he'd cry during every one of these moments, i'm gonna sob, i miss him so much.
the first time choso met you, he didn't know you'd be his life companion. pushing aside at the fact that you both were enemies at first, being a jujutsu sorcerer assigned to shibuya wasn't really the best circumstances for first meetings — which practically didn't happen smoothly.
long story short, he actually hurts you with his blood manipulation. not enough to kill you, but enough to consider it a 'medical emergency'. he is really sorry about it though; when he saw you protect yuuji despite your injuries, he just knew he had to have you.
choso made it clear that he regretted hurting you — especially when his technique left a scar on your skin. specifically on your shoulder, and your lower abdomen. occasionally pressing his lips onto your scars, the vivid drawings of your stitches still embedded into your skin.
"'m sorry . . ." choso whispers out into your skin, burying his face into your stomach as you both lay down on the bed. once again, he was feeling apologetic for hurting you more than a year ago. every day after shibuya, he was busy apologizing to you for hurting you.
"cho, that was what . . ? more than a year ago? you need to stop apologizing, baby," raking your fingers through his hair, he sighs out in content, leaning his cheek onto your stomach — his arms draped around your thighs.
when he asks you to marry him, he subconsciously did it because he panicked. choso had it all planned for a whole month, and managed to ruin it in three minutes on the day he was going to propose to you because you were just so captivating, he just lost all senses of everything he practiced.
"please, marry me," choso blurts out, his mind going one hundred miles per second — he wasn't even sure if he was conscious at that point, "i love you so much and i can't think of my life without you, please marry me," he whispers, squeezing your hand gently.
choso actually got help from everyone on what to say and what to do, which all went down to drain when he decided to use his heart to propose to you. and it worked out well anyways, "seriously? i'm gonna cry," you fanned your eyes.
believe me when i said that choso was on the edge of his seat, waiting for your answer. when you exclaimed out a happy and tearful, "yes!", he could finally breathe out in relief, raising your hand up to his lips in happiness, slipping the ring he even forgot for a second.
choso actually told himself that he wouldn't cry during his own wedding. months before the reception — he finds himself watching wedding videos and happily kicking his feet at the sight of the groom crying, he believed he wouldn't, because he's seen you everyday. right? right?
wrong. the moment the tall doors opened and there you started walking down the aisle slowly, choso felt overwhelmed at the fact that he was getting married to you, and you were getting married to him. he swore if it wasn't for yuuji, he would be laying down in front of the whole guest list, crying on the ground.
he stood there, instinctively wiping his tears — that were never-ending, and god, you looked so beautiful that all he could see was you. choso felt like it was just you and him at that moment, no guest, no yuuji, just you.
after the ceremony, choso just wanted to go back home and if it weren't for you telling him to wait until everyone goes home, he'd technically kidnap his own wife and bring her back to their home. with a pout and a long face, he greets the guest with you, hand in yours like a little child who didn't get what they want.
"can we go back home now? my legs are killing me," he whispers, squeezing your hand, tugging you towards him, "jus' leave them, they're eating the night away . . ."
"let's wait until everyone goes home, okay?" you tell him. almost wanting to laugh at the sight of his fake offended gasp right after, choso didn't complain anyways — nodding his head as you tugged him towards a group of people to greet them.
when you both got home after a long day, choso immediately headed for the bedroom, tossing himself onto the bed, white shirt wrinkled and his tie messily pulled towards one side. eyelids half closed.
"cho, you know you have to shower before you sleep. you stink."
"mmm . . . wanna sleep," he moans out into the pillow, reaching his hand out to you in an attempt to bring you onto the bed, which did not work since you were too busy wiping off your makeup, "can't we just shower tomorrow? 'm so tired."
choso's never really thought about having kids. he didn't know how to take care of kids, nor how to react with kids. for some reason, the universe though — seemed to have bless him with a wave of "baby fever" one and a half year into the marriage. watching videos of random babies from all over the world doing baby things, and he felt his heart flutter at the sight.
that was when he knew, he wanted a family with you. technically, the two of you were already a family the moment you both got married — but he wanted an addition to your small family. a child.
he didn't really know how to break the fact that he wanted a baby with you, and so he tried subtle ways to do so. showing you baby videos, telling you how cute your kids would be, even pointing at baby shoes or onesies when you both go out.
by that point, you'd caught on to his little scheme, "why're you talking about kids a lot? baby shoes, baby onesies, baby videos, baby this, baby that," you informed him, threading your fingers through his hair as he laid his head on your lap.
"wan' a baby."
so when you broke the news that you were bearing his child, he cried. and by cry — i mean bawled out like a baby. clinging to you, overwhelmed at the fact that he was going to have a child with you, he was actually going to have a little family of his own.
just a few days after the news, he'd grown a lot more protective of your wellbeing. asking here and there about what you could and couldn't eat, or what might harm the growing baby inside you. searching here and there.
during your first trimester, more precisely, during your fifth week; the cravings began getting heavy and wonky. despite all that, choso still indulged in your cravings. hell, he even had to try some because he couldn't say no to you when you tried to share with him.
peanut butter and salmon sashimi, pickle juice with honey, cream cheese and fried chicken, ramen soup popsicles, bacon and toothpaste, milk and ramen seasoning, and more of those odd combinations. choso never did complain even once, if you wanted to eat something at three am, he'd run out and go find some no matter what — you were carrying his child, and he figured that was the least he could do for you.
"taste good, baby?" choso asks you, swiping his fingertips over the cream cheese spread on the corner of your lips.
nodding vigorously, you brought the half-eaten fried chicken messily dipped in the thick and white cream cheese spread — eyes shining brightly, as if asking him to try some with you. blinking in surprise, he took a bite. definitely a weird experience for him, and it was one of the oddest combination of food he had ever tried.
"'ts funny, but it's not bad," he swallowed after chewing the chicken a few times; reaching for the glass of water by the nightstand.
throughout your pregnancy, choso made sure to spoil you with a lot of things. the doll you looked at for a split second while the both of you ventured into the mall, the food he sees you browsing through his phone or your phone, tucking you in bed using the pillow he bought for pregnant women, and the feet massages for you everyday.
"where are you going?" choso asks, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. the dark spots under his eyes were getting darker every time — it was obvious the changes in his life had made it, but choso was more than enlightened to do it for you.
"want to drink," you whisper, letting out a cute incoherent noise as you tried to roll off the mattress.
choso was quick to hold you back, tucking you inside the bundle of covers, "i'll get it for you, stay here, okay?" he whispers, hopping off the bed to fetch you a glass of water — choso didn't want to keep you waiting, running off to the kitchen and fetching you a glass of water topped with a lot of ice cubes; something he noticed you'd chew on a lot ever since you got pregnant.
"here you go," he walks back carefully, handing you the water, pinching the skin on your nap gently as he watches you gobble the water down, parting your lips to pop in an ice cube or two.
nearing your due date, specifically just a few days after the 37th week — the contractions started. it was the ninth month, and it was expected. choso heard your hushed whimpers in his sleep, he would probably guess it was at dawn, probably around four? he didn't even bother checking on the time because all he cared was you.
he was barely awake, kicking off the covers and helping you. ushering you to slowly breathe in and out, his hand rubbing soothing circles on the hollow of your back. choso figured that he wanted you and the unborn child to be safe, and so he decided to bring you to the hospital where the experts are.
choso was worried beyond anyone else; even you. constantly staying by your side, his hair disheveled; a few strands going the opposite way, and tangled with each other. he laid his head down on the mattress, by your hand. choso laid his hand on your belly, rubbing against the cloth gently to ease the pain from the contractions.
at the early stage of labor, you were feeling cramps and an intense backache — which choso helped you through. he was glad he brought you to the hospital because not long after, your water broke. and he was there to help you through it all, clutching onto your hand as if he was holding on for dear life.
everything that the doctors or the nurses do, he felt his heart beat a notch quicker than earlier. choso was afraid, and he wasn't really afraid to admit it — i mean, you're his wife and you were carrying his child. he didn't want anything to happen to the both of you.
choso heard the doctor explain to him about what was going to happen, but everything that came in from his left ear exits through his right. he could barely remember anything because through out the explanation, he was too busy caring for you throughout the contractions that had grew a bit more intense during your active labor.
he hated everything inside the delivery room. it smelt like blood — choso was used to blood. but he didn't like it when it came from you, his heart drumming against his chest as he felt your grip tightened on his hand. frankly, he could care less if he broke a few bones as long as you and the baby were both okay.
choso hated seeing you in pain, even while delivering his baby. he didn't blame the baby, of course; he just wishes he could do something and take away the pain from you, latching his lips onto your sweat painted forehead. salty. he could taste your sweat against his lips, and despite that, he still refused to move.
"wish i could jus' take away the pain away from you, y/n," he whispers — hearing your pained grunt, your eyes glazed with fresh tears. and he kissed them away, whispering sweet nothings into your ears.
telling you it was just a bit more until you could see your baby, how proud he is of you, how much he loves you, how much he wished he could take away your pain, everything he felt in his heart at that moment all poured out into hushed whispers.
when the first cry of your baby echoed inside the rowdy delivery room, choso cried. he looked down at you, cradling your face in his hands, singing out, "good job, good job. 'm so proud of you, i love you so much."
the baby's a beautiful baby boy.
choso didn't want to hold the baby first as much as he wanted to — he felt like you deserved to touch the baby first after risking your life to birth him. and so he told the nurse to let you at least see the baby first, he refused to carry his son until you, his wife, touched him first; whether using your hands or any part of your body.
he stared in awe when the baby's loud cry eventually stopped when the nurse brought him to you, letting you coo at your own newborn son. his tears freely dropping, rubbing circles onto the back of your hand.
when the nurse asked him to have skin-to-skin contact, choso was nervous. what if he dropped his son? what if his son doesn't like him? what if his son doesn't like the way his skin feels? so many out of the box questions that didn't need to be answered were roaming in his mind.
as he slowly cradled his son, he blinked back the second round of tears that had threatened to fall. the light blue beanie stuck to his son's head seeped with a few drops of tears, leaning down to press his lips onto the baby's skin a few times. introducing himself as the baby's father and how happy he is to be one,
daichi l/n. that's the baby's name — it meant great first son. the both of you felt that it was a suitable name for your first baby.
choso slept on the small couch inside the hospital room during your healing week, in the middle of both you and him was daichi's small basinet where he slept soundly. he made sure to knock himself awake every now and then to check after both you and daichi.
when the hospital permitted you to go home, you completely relied on choso on heavy things — which you didn't even have to ask, he was already doing it for you. daichi gets a bit fussy at night, and choso always tells you to go back to sleep and that he'd handle the baby.
"you know, you're really noisy, right? mama's really worried about you," he gently poked the baby's cheek with his thumb as he cradled the small bundle of life affectionately, singing out a lullaby he remembered you singing to him years ago.
choso never knew he had a knack on changing diapers until you were occupied, and he had to change daichi's diaper. turns out he was really good at it, and from that day on — he's also told you that he got it. your body was still sore from delivery, and so everything around the house was mostly done by choso under your watch.
although choso's been the one taking care of daichi, he could definitely see how much the baby's turning out to be a big mama's boy even at a few months old. he noticed how daichi would only let you burp him, or sometimes daichi would get fussy when he felt choso raising him up during early mornings until you had to do it.
he didn't care. he wasn't jealous, daichi's still his son and he was glad that daichi loved you a little more than him. he'd like it if his baby prioritizes you first before him.
being a father is a great wonder to him. daichi's first word being 'mama', and his first steps was done while he was sauntering clumsily towards you. choso is such a proud father.
growing up, daichi turned out to be a big mama's boy. but still he loved choso too. now daichi lets choso carries him during mornings, and he relies on choso when something scares him while clutching onto your hand, taking small steps to hide behind choso. using his own father as a shield for him and you.
"don't worry, baby. 's just a lion in the screen, dada will protect us," you scooped the boy into your arms, pointing at the screen where a lion and its cub are walking.
"mmm. dada will protect you both," choso chimes in, ruffling daichi's thin hair.
daichi grew up loving boxing. you didn't know how he knows about it, but at the very next second, he was pestering choso to teach him boxing. and choso dreaded this because what was his son going to do at four years of age in pre-school with boxing? was he going to use it on his teachers? or his friends?
"no . . . maybe when you're older," choso's always said that, patting daichi's head as he does.
daichi whined every single time, but managed to forget when he saw some people drawing on TV. choso once again being a victim of his own son's pleading for some drawing lessons. as a father, choso of course accompanied daichi during his draw sessions in the living room right after the kid comes back from pre-school.
sometimes choso would draw too, having a little competition with his own son. which daichi mostly won — but at the same time, choso never complained about his loss. he was always proud of daichi.
"look, look mama! this is you, this is daichi, and this is dada!" daichi announces, pointing at every aspect of his drawing, explaining to you.
and to the fridge the drawing goes.
when daichi graduated pre-school, choso again, cried. taking pictures using the camera he had asked you to teach him how beforehand, and the pictures weren't the nicest. most of them being a blur of daichi walking down the stage with his small cap, waving his little hand to the camera.
choso was so proud of his son, of you, of himself. looking back— he's realized how far he had come despite not having to expect all of this. a loving wife. a son. a family.
choso was just glad he had his own little family now with you and his son. although . . . he wouldn't mind having another addition to the small community.
© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#fluff#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#choso#choso x reader#choso x female reader#choso x y/n#choso fluff#choso kamo#choso kamo fluff
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For Lovers At Night part 5
My too much gene kicked in so there’s one more chapter of this fic coming. Enjoy! Previous chapter
The text puts a knife in her chest causing her to let out a sob, hand flying to her mouth to cover it. Getting up she walks with her phone in hand out the hall through the doors breaking down only when she’s outside. Letting the sob escape her throat she doesn’t care that it’s starting to drizzle. Taking several deep breaths she tries to stop crying long enough to call you. As the dial tone rings, Melissa feels like her heart is going to fly out of her chest and not in a good way.
“Hello?” A voice on the other end sighs.
“Hon, can we talk please? I need to talk to you.” Melissa’s voice wobbles as she speaks a mile a minute.
You’d never heard her sound like this, so small and unsure of herself in the time that you’ve known her.
“There’s a lot we have to talk about apparently.” You hum. “I need a bit of time, Melissa.”
“Time?” She asks quietly, “how much time?” She’s all but pleading with you at this point and she doesn’t care how she sounds. “I can’t lose you.” She whispers.
The line goes quiet for a moment until you speak again. “I need to gather my thoughts about everything. I think you owe me that much.”
“Okay,” Melissa takes a deep breath. “Just please don’t shut me out.”
“I’d never do that. I’m not an asshole, Melissa. I’m hurt and I need time. I’ll talk to you soon.”
The call ends and Melissa brings her hands to her face holding in a scream. In a matter of hours her entire life got flipped around in a way she never thought would happen. After a few more minutes outside Melissa breathes trying to calm herself to go back to her kids. Going back inside Abbott she cleans up her desk and tucks the card you sent into her purse before the tears start flowing again.
A couple blocks over you busy yourself cleaning up the store and bar in prep for the night ahead.
“you’ve been cleaning that same spot on the bar for ten minutes.” Your friend and colleague Jacob says coming up beside you.
“I’m- yeah,” you shake your head moving down the slab of granite. “My head is in the clouds.”
“And you don’t have that dopey lovesick smile on your face.” Jacob hums, “was it too soon for flowers?” He winces.
“Considering her husband posted on her Facebook for their anniversary last month, I’m gonna say yeah too soon,” You huff tossing the rag down with a sigh.
“Oh no,” Jacob lets out slow and full of pity.
“Don’t do that, dude. I dont need that right now okay? I need to get through this weekend and figure out what the hell to say to her.”
“How did this all happen?”
Looking at your friend with a sigh you slouch forward crossing your arms.
“I looked her up because she’s so mysterious ya know? I looked and she came up, still has old pictures of him and that damn post on her wall. I don’t know what to think at this point.” You shrug completely confused and hurt.
She definitely wasn’t lying about being with women before, that much you knew and the way she looked at you felt real. She looked at you like she loved you. Talking to her on the phone and hearing the sadness in her voice made you even more conflicted.
“You have feelings for her right?” He asks leaning against the bar.
“I’d be stupid not to wouldn’t I?” you scoff.
“Theres your answer. Hear her out and talk to her when you’re ready.” Jacob advises the only way he knows how.
Thinking about your friend’s words for the rest of the day, you go through the motions at work putting on your best fake smile as you greet and chat with customers. As you cater to your patrons your phone sits on your office desk buzzing with a text chain from Melissa you don’t see until much later.
When you get up to your apartment that night you get ready for bed shuffling over to the mattress feeling almost disgusted with yourself. You slept with a married woman and you had no idea if she was telling the truth or not about how she was treated by her husband. The post you saw online rubbed you the wrong way, you were still friends with enough people from your hometown to know what a bad relationship looks like yet you still didn’t know for sure.
Laying on your back you look at the ceiling with a sigh. Now or never, you grab your phone looking at the long string of texts you have from Melissa.
I know you said you needed time but I need you to know I meant everything I said to you. About my family, work, how I feel about you.
I know I fucked up and I’m so sorry. More sorry than you’ll ever know, Amore.
Please don’t push me away.
Dropping the phone onto your nightstand you turn over curling under your blankets wanting to sleep the day away. Only sleep doesn’t come. Tossing and turning with racing thoughts of the redhead you dissect every moment carefully from when you met up until you kissed her goodbye after your date and every single moment puts a ghost of a smile on your lips. Her still calling you ‘Amore’ in the texts made this even harder for you. Closing your eyes you listen to the raindrops hit your window and thunder rumble in the pitch dark.
At the same time, Melissa is overtired and wanting desperately to sleep but she can’t stop the tears or her thoughts from keeping her body awake. She’s never felt like this before in her entire adult life and she knows it’s her fault. She should have never lied in the first place and she sure as hell should have never let Kristen Marie put her on Facebook.
when Joe posted that message on her page it didn’t effect her, she already knew it was for the show he constantly put on for her family of being a good husband when they are all aware he is anything but. What she hadn’t known was he made it public, and now the thought of losing you and explaining everything to her family makes her chest ache.
The following day for you is strange. When you wake at your usual ten am, it takes everything in you not to grab your phone and send Melissa a good morning text as you’d come accustom to. Instead you lay there for a few minutes enjoying the sound of birds outside along with the usual traffic. Getting up and going about your morning proves difficult for you. Once ready for your day you check the time, realizing Melissa had her lunch break in less than two hours. Picking up the device with a sigh you send a quick message.
Can you meet me the cafe near Abbott during your lunch?
In a classroom not far away Melissa’s heart jumps when she sees her phone light up. Opening it immediately she feels hopeful reading the message, glad her students were in gym at that very moment. Not wanting to test her luck too much she replies with a simple yes I can then gets up practically jogging to Barbara’s classroom.
“Hey, I have to cancel our lunch plans today. She wants to meet at the cafe.” She can’t stop the smile from crossing her lips.
“Melissa, be careful with that woman.” Her best friend warns. “You still have to deal with all the legal proceedings with Joe and your mother.”
Melissa nods shoving her hands in her pockets. “I know, I know that. I just really need to see her Barb.” She shrugs with a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
Barbara looks at her friend in astonishment. “You love this woman.” She comes to the realization. “Go on during lunch, you text me as soon as you get back here.” She points.
As Melissa’s break time approaches you walk the couple blocks to the cafe on the corner, wondering if you’d see her coming from the school from the window. Sitting there waiting you order a water trying to keep your cool while mindlessly scrolling on your phone. As you do you receive a text from Jacob.
Hear her out and remember she’s hurting too
Letting out a sigh you tuck the phone in your pocket. When you lift your head you’re met with the sound of the door chime and green eyes landing on you. Standing up at the table you don’t make a move, gesturing for Melissa to sit across from you.
“Hey,” you let out not breaking eye contact with the woman. Even dressed in her work clothes she was absolutely stunning. “You look as tired as I feel.
“Yeah,” Melissa takes a seat wanting so badly to hug you. “I didn’t really sleep.”
“That makes two of us,” you nod pushing one of the two coffees in front of you forward.
Melissa looks at you with a grateful not picking up the drink. Just how she likes it she thinks.
“So uh, I’ve never had to do this before.” You shrug not sure where to start.
“And I’m not good with the whole feelings thing.” Melissa adds playing with the corner of a napkin. “I know you owe me nothing, but let me explain everything?” She asks softly.
While you were upset, an explanation is exactly what you wanted. Nodding, you urge her to go on.
Taking a breath the redhead fiddles with the napkin between her fingers. “What I told you about him, everything is true. The cheating, the lying, the not caring, it’s all true. We were young and stupid when we got married, and he didn’t wanna miss out on being one of the guys.” She shrugs taking a breath.
“You’re not gonna tell me you two have kids are you?”
“No,” Melissa shakes her head immediately. “No kids, just an overbearing family on my side.” She chuckles. “In fact, my brother and cousins threatened to kill him after they found out he cheated on me the first time.”
Letting out a puff of laughter you shrug. “Can’t blame them. It’s the Italian-American way.”
Melissa ducks her head with a small smile, eyes going to the paper. “Yeah. And I ain’t saying I’m a saint, I cheated when I was a teenager but as an adult? Never did. My marriage started out fine, but a few years in he got sloppy with hiding it. I never cared enough to ask for a divorce because growing up my mother made a big deal about marriage but anyway,” She shrugs it off not wanting to get emotional. “I didn’t think any of it mattered and I wasn’t good enough for anyone else so why go through the hassle?”
Looking over the woman’s features you see a mixture of sadness and pleading in her eyes as she nibbles her bottom lip.
“What changed?” You ask quietly resting your hand on the table almost touching the redheads.
“you made me feel like a woman that was desirable and worth talking to.”
“Melissa, I can’t mess around with a married woman.” You sigh shaking your head. “I meant what I said in that card, I-“ before you can finish your sentence Melissa hits you with another bomb.
“I asked Joe for a divorce.”
Sitting stunned you just blink at her for a moment.
“He was there at the school when those flowers were delivered. Which are beautiful by the way.” The redhead gives a shy smile.
“Well fuck.” You sit back in shock taking in the information.
“Hon, It was the best thing that coulda happened to me, I finally told him how miserable I was and that’s what I needed to do,” Her eyes water, the dam about to break again as her voice turns to a whisper. “And you gave that to me even- even if that means I lose you.”
Extending your fingers you turn your hand, palm up to the redhead, your fingers entwining together a moment later. “You’re not gonna lose me, Mel. I just-“ you sigh, “I need to process everything and I bet you do too.” It had been a strange twenty four hours and you still couldn’t believe the woman you were in love with was still someone else’s wife.
Feeling the warmth and gentle squeeze from Melissa’s hand you lean forward slightly meeting her eyes. “Let’s take things slow, start over.” You suggest.
“I can do that.” The redhead nods. As long as she could keep you that’s all she cared about.
“Okay,” you give her a soft smile gently pulling away. The rest of your short time together comes easy, the awkwardness chipping away as you two sit and talk as you usually did.
Tapping the screen of her watch Melissa sighs knowing the forty five minutes she spent with you wasn’t long enough but would have to do for today.
“Back to the rugrats?” You ask knowing her lunch wasn’t very long.
“Yeah, Barb is getting ‘em from recess for me. I uh, thank you for talkin to me, hon.”
“I’d never ghost you or ignore you, Mel.” You shake your head leading her out the door of the cafe. “I really, really like you. I meant that. Now we can just pump the breaks a bit yeah? You and your family are going through a lot now.”
“Yeah,” Melissa lets out in a puff of laughter. “I can’t wait to be interrogated by my ma and Nana later at dinner.”
“In that case I’d say that’s punishment enough.” you chuckle putting your hands in your pockets, still a bit of space between you two as you stand there on the sidewalk. “Well, I’ll see you later, Mel.”
“Can- hon, can I have a hug?” She asks almost unsure of herself.
Unable to say no to the woman you step forward wrapping one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist in a warm embrace. Closing your eyes you take in the feel of her body, her signature smell, how her hands feel playing with the back of your jacket.
“Thank you, Amore.” She whispers, most definitely needing the loving touch as much as you did. The redhead pulls back first, giving you that shy smile that has just the corner of her lips up slightly.
“I’ll see you soon.” You assure her, knowing that you really couldn’t stay away from her long, especially now.
In the Schemmenti household a weekly dinner happens at Nanas house, and this week was no different except when Melissa pulls up with a large tray of ziti she only sees her parent’s car in the driveway. Coming into the house with the tray she smells food cooking and her nana talking, that was a good sign.
“Is a hit happening?” She pokes her head into the kitchen.
“My mia Cara!”
Maria Schemmenti crosses the kitchen going right to her granddaughter kissing her cheeks and taking the tray from her. “Come sit, food is almost done.”
Even though she’s up in years the oldest redhead that Melissa took after the most in looks and actions moves swiftly going back to her many dishes on the stove.
“Hey kiddo, you okay?” Johnny Schemmenti was a no nonsense guy, always ready to jump into action for his family especially his mini me Melissa. Sharing the same green eyes the two hug and Johnny places a kiss to his daughter’s head.
“Ya know what dad? I’m better than I’ve ever been.” She smiles moving to sit back down with her dad. “Ma looks pissed.” She says quietly watching the blonde woman move around the kitchen.
“Hi, ma.” The youngest redhead calls out getting no reaction from the woman.
“Melissa I will speak to you when I’m done helping your nana.”
“Caterina don’t give that girl the cold shoulder.” Nana points at her.
“That’s okay, Nana. I’m the only one here so apparently I’m in for an ambush. Did you put the hole in the backyard, Ma or is it somewhere else?”
Johnny has to bite back a laugh hiding his proud smirk with his beer bottle.
“Melissa this isn’t an ambush. I’m only wondering why you had to cause a scene instead of telling us you weren’t happy.”
“Mi stai prendendo per il culo,” Melissa huffs.
“Melissa Ann!” Caterina snaps.
“If this is how dinners gonna go tonight I’m outta here. I don’t need all this. Nana, dad, I’m sorry I’ll see you on Sunday.” She gets up kissing her dad’s cheek, grabbing her purse as she goes.
“Sit back down, Tesoro. Your mother means well but she ain’t going about it the right way.” Maria shoots her daughter in law a look that gets a huff from the blonde.
Melissa listens to her Nana, sitting back down next to her dad. Elbows on the table she covers her face with her hands taking a breath feeling like she’s a little kid that was caught and is now getting in trouble.
“Look you wanna know what happened? Joe cheated on me for years, did ya know that? That weekend the guys had the cops called on them and I had to sweet talk the cop? Yeah, they were ready to kill him. We done here now?” Melissa lets out with a challenging look to her mother.
That night almost ten years ago had been a rough one. A bunch of the cousins rented a house in the Poconos and the long weekend in the summer heat ended with Joe taking off on a four wheeler and Johnny Junior having his hand stitched up in the cabins kitchen after a drunk Joe made a joke about another woman he was seeing. Junior and the cousins scared him good, eventually the cops came ruining the weekend for Melissa.
“The boys knew this whole time?” Caterina asks quietly.
“Of course they did. So did Barb, and Nana.” She nods to her grandmother taking a breath.
Melissa’s mother looks at the oldest woman with an agape mouth.
“Mel, we want you to be happy. You happy with splitting from Joe?” Johnny asks his daughter.
“I can’t put into words how happy I am, pops.” She shrugs with a small smile.
“See, Cat? That’s all I need to know.” He nods to his wife, getting up to get the plates for the table.
“At your wedding I knew he was no good.” Maria shakes her head. “The negativity sheds off of him like his hair does.”
Melissa chuckles staying put as her parents move about the kitchen setting the table. As they do, Maria comes over kissing the top of her head.
“Mia Cara, when we’re done you make a plate and take it to your new friend. Give her a sneak peek of family dinners.”
The redhead looks at the matriarch of the family with a warm smile knowing her Nana would understand everything that Joe told the family.
As Melissa has dinner with her family you move around your apartment cleaning up and ordering groceries as you usually do on your days off. Seeing Melissa that afternoon was nice and you knew as soon as you saw her the anger you felt would lessen. You were upset but not so much with her. Now you were upset with her husband and how he treats her.
If her being free of him and the cage she felt trapped in meant you had to feel bad for those few hours from finding out to the moment you met up with her for lunch then so be it. You were tempted to text her an invite to come over for the night to decompress and talk more. As you leave your apartment and hop down the stairs to the alleyway out back to get rid of your garbage you see a car you do not recognize parked almost blocking the alley, and a man getting out of the car.
A man you recognize as Joe.
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Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 22)
Uzi did finally get that baby bag.
It wasn't much, a glorified swaddle made from a purple blanket that wrapped around her torso so that Tera could rest at her side without pulling while she walked around. It had been almost scary, she'd seen new mothers walk around with them all the time when she was younger.
And now… here she was, baby strapped to her side as she went home. Home as in, her dad's apartment, her apartment, or maybe not anymore, after today.
N had gone off to pick up the newly made crib early that morning, yes morning. Neither of them had needed to go outside for a least a week, and they're schedules were starting to cycle back into what other drones would consider normal.
But even then it gave them a little time to talk about how raising Tera was going to work.
Her room in her apartment was too small to raise a baby in, it was almost too small for her, with stuff just shoved unceremoniously wherever there was room. It was too messy, and dangerous! Her railgun was still in peices on the couch, and while it was broken there were still several parts that could discharge and hurt someone.
Which left N's apartment, which had plenty of room, as it was nearly empty, he'd brought in the very little stuff he owned (blankets, pillows and plush toys) but all of that easily fit in the bedroom with plenty of room to spare.
Plenty of room for her stuff.
And that thought on it's own made her fluster, they'd spent plenty of nights together, especially recently. But it had always been under the pretense that she'd be going back home eventually. That she didn't live there.
Robo-god she was about to see her dad. Her dad which had zero context for what she was about to unleash on him. That her and N were together now, that he had a granddaughter, that she was… moving out.
So much had happened this week. Hell, so much had been happening almost every week. And all of it was stressful, wether it be life threatening or just life changing, it seemed like after years of nothing happening, it was all catching up with her with everything happening at once.
“Doorman?” A voice she recognized, a voice she really didn’t want to see, preferably ever, but especially not right now, with Tera awake and babbling from her bag.
“What is it Lizzy?” She deadpanned, not bringing any attention to the baby strapped to her side even though that was clearly what caught the other drones attention, her pink eyes locked to the bag in surprise.
“Oh shit, that was actually your kid?” Lizzy immediately asked, making Uzi roll her eyes as she remembered that Lizzy was the one that had initially exposed her.
“Yup. This is Tera.” Admitting it at first felt strange, like her tongue had wanted to reject it, but it quickly settled into contentment, yeah, this was right. And honestly, trying to make Lizzy feel bad about something felt too good to say anything else.
“I had wanted to keep some things private, but somebody took a picture of us bringing her home.” Yeah she wasn't going to let Lizzy get away with that without a jab or two, she'd caused a bigger headache than what was already happening, and Uzi was itching for some revenge, even if it was just light teasing.
“Oh come on! Like you wouldn't have done the same thing.” She snapped back, although she sounded less bratty than usual, although wether that was V's influence or the fact a baby was present was unclear.
“Snapped a picture, totally, blackmail is blackmail, immediately post it to every inbox in range… No.” She replied, not wanting this conversation to last much longer than it had to, she didn't particularly like Lizzy, her being a main source of her suffering for a long time.
She just needed to get that jab in.
Lizzy just scoffed, looking her up and down and crossing her arms as if searching for something, probably something else to mock her for, Uzi found herself rolling her eyes again, turning to walk away from her and the conversation before Lizzy started talking again.
“Sorry or whatever, I thought you were just babysitting or something. Didn't think it'd be a big deal.”
Holy Shit, was Lizzy apologizing?
“Uh.” Honestly Uzi wasn't sure how to respond, she'd wanted her to feel bad sure, but she wasn't sure if that was even possible, and she'd never in a million years think she'd be hearing Lizzy apologize.
“Yeah, sure.” Is what came defensively out of her mouth as she walked away, Tera blew a raspberry at Lizzy from the bag, giggling when she got pink hollow eyelights in return.
Okay, so maybe she could keep her edginess and still be motherly figure to Tera, that hadn't occurred to her as an option, a part of her thought she'd become a different person, and maybe she was around N and Tera behind closed doors, but here? She didn't feel soft, she felt like she always did, slightly bitter, like licorice.
She passed more drones on her way, some didn't seem to notice her which was absolutely fine with her, but some definitely did, stopping and staring at the neighborhood goth carrying around a giggling baby in a cute little purple swaddle.
She could understand why they were staring, it was quite the image, but it didn't mean she had to like it.
Tera on the other hand was loving the attention, each set of eyelights on her produced another laugh and some rolling that had Uzi holding the side of the bag so she wouldn't roll out onto the floor.
One drone was a little too obvious for Uzi's liking, staring at the bag like it would suddenly come to life and harm him.
“Hey! Stop staring and mind your business!” She turned to the guy, who immediately looked scared out of his mind, his purple eyelights hollowing as he nodded.
“Yes ma’am sorry!” He raised his hands before scampering away with his tail between his legs, if he had one, that is.
She smirked a little before moving on, it was a powerful feeling, to scare someone off, and it was satisfying as well, she didn't like the way he was looking at her baby.
She finally, finally reached where she wanted to be, well not wanted, she wanted to be anywhere else. But where she needed to be.
She knocked. Which was weird because it was her door, she had the key to get in whenever she wanted. But it still felt like the right thing to do at the moment, she heard shuffling from the other side of the heavy steel, great, her dad was home.
Her dad, the one who'd left her to die, the one who left her alone to cry herself to sleep after her mother died, the main reason her core had such heavy shielding protecting the softness inside. Why her first instinct to any problem was to yell at it, or turn to science to better choose violence.
She held a lot of resentment towards him, something she'd shown time and time again, a part of her wanting to hurt him the same way he'd been hurting her. But she could never bring herself to hate him, not when she did still have memories of him being a halfway decent father, holding her when she'd have nightmares, giving her piggyback rides, being the first one to teach her about mechanics, and give her her first toolset.
“Coming!” Khan shouted, he'd been drafting of some blueprints. Not of doors, but of something for N, if he wanted it.
A cap for his tail, made out of solid steel and form fitting, so it slid right over the needle, it was just a concept for now, he didn't have the exact measurements of his tail and he wasn't even sure N would want something like that, he seemed to have good control over it. But if Khan had a tail with a stinger, he'd want to make sure his infant daughter couldn't accidentally grab it, just to be safe.
So really it was gift for Tera, but, nonetheless.
He opened the door, surprised to see his daughter of all drones knocking, she never knocked, she lived here!
“Uzi? Why'd you knock? Did you lose your key?” He tilted his head in confusion before his eyes followed the strap of the baby bag, he blinked, and tiny purple eyelights blinked back.
“I-is that?” His voice almost immediately turned warbly, he didn't hadn't ever seen Tera before, he didn't realize how much she looked like his daughter, at least when she was also a pillbaby.
“That's Tera Dad, can I- can I come in?” Her voice sounded muted, not like the fiery rebellious drone he'd come to know as his daughter, he moved out of the way wordlessly, eyes still trained on the tiny droneling at her side.
She was giggling at him, rolling madly in an attempt to escape her confines, Uzi dipped her arm into the bag and lifted her up into her arms.
“Stop squirming Jellybean, or you're gonna fall.”
Tera was just happy for the attention attempting to roll more even though she was trapped in Uzi's hands. She sighed.
“Sorry, she has a lot of energy.” She smiled warily at her dad, who looked like his core had been ejected and thrown halfway across the room.
All he could see was his wife, the first month or two they had Uzi and she was a cryer, there were no moments of silence in the Doorman household, if Uzi was left alone for even a millisecond she'd begin to wail which meant either Nori or himself would have to be with her at all hours.
And Uzi shared her mother's stress lines, looking a little bit worn out but satisfied and happy, eye's shining with so much raw affection for the child in her arms that Khan knew, without another word spoken, that he had a granddaughter.
“That's quite alright dronelette…” He managed to force out the words, hopefully without sounding too strained, he wanted Uzi to feel comfortable enough to talk to him, to tell him things. Even if she thought he didn't like it.
And a part of him didn't, she was 18, not quite even an adult yet but her birthday was coming up soon. And dammit she was still his daughter, watching her grow up this much in such a little amount of time was harrowing, and only reminded him of how much he'd missed while wallowing in his grief.
Another part of him was almost giddy, a granddaughter, a granddaughter, it was honestly something he never even hoped to have, Uzi had never been one to make freinds, much less romantic connections.
“Yeah- uh, this is Tera, N's daughter.” She repeated, obviously nervous and tired. Khan wondered if N looked equally run down. And if perhaps Tera was the same level of clingy Uzi had been.
“I wanted you to meet her, since I've been spending so much time with the both of them…”
He could only bring himself to smile and nod, but wanted to freeze as Uzi came toward him and outstretched her arms, he clumsily stepped forward and took the tiny droneling into his arms, core stopping for a moment.
“She learns names pretty quick, oh, and she's a hugger, so uh, beware.” She warned, still seemingly nervous, he was sure he'd know exactly why soon, although he had a feeling he might already know.
Khan looked down at the baby, which felt like lead in his hands as she smiled up at him, weirdly silent considering all the babbling he'd just heard.
“Tera, this is Khan.” Uzi spoke softly to the baby, standing beside her father as he looked like he was about keel over. “He's my dad.”
Tera's smile grew bigger, although she didn't attempt to say his name, perhaps more than a single letter was too much for her. Instead she blew a goofy raspberry, rolling around in his arms for a moment before rolling into him, giving him a hug.
Tears sprung up in his eyes as something in his core snapped, he held her closely, and a sniffle escaped his voice box before he could stop himself.
“Dad?” Uzi sounded slightly worried for him, she'd known he'd might have some kind of reaction to seeing Tera, but this was a little more then she'd expected.
“I-I'm alright! I just-” He blinked away the tears and tried to steel himself, thoughts running a mile a minute. “I see why you warned me. Hah…”
“Yeah… you should have seen V, you could see the exact second her core melted.” Khan only could nod, the droneling now pressed up against him made a chirping noise, happy and content at any love given to her.
“But ah…that's uh, not the only reason I came here, just to… introduce you to a droneling that… that you're not gonna see often. You are gonna see her often, A-at least I hope you do, C-cause she's not just N's… she's-she's mine… too.” She rambled and sputtered as she tried to find the words to say, Khan felt himself smiling as she continued, she was expressing a want to have him around, that he wouldn't be mad. That'd he'd want to be-
“She's your granddaughter… dad.” She finished, looking more stressed then ever, like he could ever possibly tell her that he didn't want to be in her life anymore.
He winced as he remembered all the times he did indirectly. Leaving her alone so he could throw himself into another project, neglecting the one person he still had as family simply because she looked too much like Nori to look in the eye.
And she really looked like her now.
He looked back down at Tera, at his granddaughter, and felt himself begin to tear up again. She was smiling at him, babbling and cooing up at him as he launched forward and hugged his daughter with all his might.
He felt her tense, then, thankfully, she relaxed, mindful of the child as she curled up in his arms much like she did when she was little, and she'd needed comfort from a nightmare. He felt her visor press against his chest, breathing shaky, like she herself was about to cry.
How could he have left her, how? What kind of parent was he that he left his own daughter? What kind of man?
And how could she have ever forgiven him? He knew he could never forgive himself.
“I'm sorry dronelette, I'm so so sorry.” He cracked out, petting her hair, he felt some kind of pressure on his back, her hand most likely, and she almost laughed, though it sounded pained.
“I'm still… so angry at you.” She admitted, slowly, though not pulling away. And he felt more pained steel settle in his core, he deserved this… whatever she needed to say. If she needed curse at him, to hit him even, he'd deserve it, although he hoped she wouldn't in front of Tera.
“But I missed you more.”
And thats all it took for them both to sob like newborns, her face burying into his shoulder as she let years worth of coiled pain escape her, despite all she'd done, how much she'd grown, she was still 18, still much a kid herself.
And they remained like that for some time, at least until Tera got uncomfortable being sandwiched between them and began to fuss, which finally ended the long overdue hug between father and daughter.
“H-here, give her to me.” She stammered out, either slightly embarrassed or still a little emotional, and Khan did as he was told, handing daughter back to mother.
She rocked her until she stopped fussing, and Khan led them both to the couch with his hand, still recovering himself.
She flopped on the couch like she carried the entire weight of the world on her shoulders, Tera held gingerly until she was placed between them do she could freely roll around, which she did happily.
“I'm assuming that means N is my son in law now?” He chuckled out, trying to lighten the somewhat oppressive mood that had settled over them. She blushed heavily, sputtering out a surprised response.
“We're not- he's- uh… He's my… boyfriend now yeah.”
He laughed, even though he saw it coming a mile away, he thought he might be more upset about it then he was, but N had more than proven Uzi was his priority, even over himself at times.
“And you need help moving your stuff out?” He continued, smiling through the small amount of pain the thought caused him, she was growing up, but if that hug had shown him anything, she still needed her dad, and he couldn't ignore that, he wouldn't, not anymore.
#murder drones#biscuitbites#nuzi#uzi doorman#serial designation n#n and uzi#even though N isn’t even here#Khan becomes a grandpa#he takes it about as well as you expect
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AVIDITY
©sooguru
[⌗synopsis ⸝⸝ 𝜗𝜚] when a man suddenly enters your life, giving your mind a safe haven from the turmoil at home.
[⌗cw ⸝⸝ 𝜗𝜚] DARK CONTENT - cheating husband toji , violence (domestic abuse), stranger danger.
chapter 00
─── ⋆⋅𝜗𝜚 " IN the grip of obsession, all else fades away, leaving only the burning desire for what we cannot have. "
desire. something me and my husband toji no longer shared. i tried, trust me i did, but it was pointless. he was no longer with me. his mind was elsewhere. my best bet was that it was with the colleague at his work. the one that would always text his phone asking where he was; the one that would text him saying that she misses him.
i sighed at the thought, continuing to type away at my computer screen. i send a quick text to toji saying that i’ll be home late. i got back to it, wanting to get my work done early so that i could head home at a good time. the office become uninhabited as the sun ran away for the day, the moon coming out for her daily shift.
i sighed once again, looking around the dark office. it felt like i was being watched. i shook it off though, knowing i was just being paranoid beacuse it was dark. i glanced at the time, pouting slightly.
“8 already? i wanted to get home early..ugh.”
i packed up my stuff, calling it a night. i left my workplace, walking downstairs to the car park, my car keys in hand as i walked to my car. as i opened the drivers side door, i spotted a figure in the distance, my eyes narrowing as i looked around the empty area.
as my gaze focussed, i noticed his eyes boring in to me, a blank look on his face; gaze intense before he breaks into a smile, giving me a slow wave.
he was beautiful to say the least. his long raven coloured hair, his muscular frame covered in a black suit. i watched him walk away, my lips parting slightly, unsure of what to make of what just happened. should i be scared? maybe he thought i was someone else.
i get into my car, turning on the engine as i drove out of the car park. on my way out, i spotted him once again. as i drive past, i got a closer look at what this mystery man looked like. i could see his head turn, brandishing another grin as he gave me a wink, his light brown eyes twinkling in the moonlight.
how odd? i don’t know.
once i got home, i was met with the sounds of sex. the bed creaking and slapping against the wall.
“oh.”
i stood at my front door, unsure of what to do. i knew he wouldn’t care if i caught him in the act, instead i took off my shoes; leaving them by the door before heading to the kitchen, my belly grumbling as i hoped there was some food somewhere. maybe he bought something and left a little bite for me..
who am i kidding.
i looked into the empty fridge, nothing but water in it. i sighed loudly, going to the alcohol cabinet, taking out some whiskey while i pulled up doordash, wondering which fast food place would deliver at this time.
pizza? maybe some chinese food..hm. options, options, options. i decided on just getting a pizza since it was the cheapest option. i tried my best to ignored the loud pounding followed by screams of pleasure upstairs, remembering when we used to have sex. it always feels amazing when you’re in love.
i pushed the thoughts from my head, taking a swig of the whiskey, resting my head on my hands, wondering how my life ended up like this. the opposite of everything i ever wanted. the bruise on my thigh was evidence of that.
i wanted to escape, to turn back time and choose a different path. one where toji fushiguro wasn’t in my life..then maybe i wouldn’t be stuck in a loveless marriage with a husband who’d rather hurt me than love me.
who’d rather give me bruises instead of kisses.
anything would be better than this hell.
i wanted to leave him, but every time i’d bring up getting a divorce, he’d yell and throw a fit. i was pulled from my thoughts at the sound of my doorbell. i quickly got up, taking my purse with me so i could tip the doordasher, however, when i opened the door, nobody was there. just my pizza box on the ground,
“what the hell? god..”
i huffed, grumbling as i snatched the box up, slamming the door shut, causing the noises from upstairs to cease. opening my pizza box, i discovered the strangest thing.
the pepperoni was obviously moved, discoloured patches remained on the cheese from where they once laid. the meat was shaped into a heart, in the middle, written in ketchup was ‘I SEE YOU’.
my heart started to race, unsure of who would do something like this. maybe they got the wrong address? but my name and address were on the receipt stuck on the box.
perhaps it was a prank? yeah. a couple of kids live across from here so i wouldn’t be surprised. but..it was so late. who would be pulling pranks at this hour..?
nonetheless, i ate the pizza, hearing my husband and his coworker come down from upstairs, her heels clicking as she left the house, leaving me with just him. i didn’t turn to look at toji, just chewing on my pizza silently as he walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge door to see if there was anything.
“so you only got food for yourself?”
he said lowly, glaring at me. i didn’t reply, staring down at the pizza, continuing to eat it, eating a bit faster; not liking the look he was giving me.
“stupid bitch.”
he seethed, snatching the pizza box from my hand, landing a harsh slap on my face, scoffing.
“this should teach your selfish ass a lesson.”
with that, he left with my food. my belly grumbled, a long sigh leaving my lips as i went back to the whiskey, deciding to fill my stomach with that instead. i couldn’t even go to my friend shoko’s for the night because she was on holiday with her girlfriend.
i sighed, resting my forehead against the table, crying softly, my cheek feeling hot and uncomfortable, more tears welling in my eyes because of it.
after a few hours, i stumbled upstairs, only once i was sure he was asleep. i stripped out of my clothes, stumbling into our bedroom, changing into my pyjamas before walking back downstairs. laying on the couch, i could only toss and turn, struggling to sleep with this uncomfortable bruise forming on my cheek. i sighed softly, tears welling in my eyes again, wondering why i ever let my life get this bad.
as i closed my eyes, the face of that man from earlier popped into my head. admiring his beauty from afar in that car park, although, his actions were a little odd, waving to me in the car park? maybe he was just being friendly. i shook it off, soon falling asleep to the dream of living a better life without my husband.
what a great dream.
the morning eventually came, meaning i had to get ready for work. thankfully toji had already gone to his job, leaving the house to myself. i didn’t have work until later, so i spent most of the day gathering groceries and lazing around the house before getting myself dressed into a simple black long sleeved maxi dress that clung to my curves.
it was quite warm today, so i was sure everyone would be dressed in similar attire to me. i put my heels on, hearing them click against my floor as i sprayed my perfume, grabbing my keys and getting in my car, driving off to my job.
—
upon arriving, i was pulled to the side by nanami, a bunch of files in his hands.
“good afternoon y/n, i need you to look over these files for me and hand them to mr. geto’s desk later on. he’s a new transfer from a different firm so try and welcome him as best as you can.”
“oh of course! i’ve been waiting for someone new to come, we’ve been understaffed for too long..”
i said with a pout, complaining about how our team was being overworked. nanami agreed with me, giving me a bottle of water to stay hydrated in the heat before going off to do whatever managers of an accounting firm do.
sighting, i put a smile on my face, greeting all of my coworkers, met with pleasant smiles and sweet conversation. everyone was so nice to me, i really did love working here. it was a nice escape from my life back home.
after completing the files, i walked around, asking others if they could point me to “geto’s desk”. i was excited to meet someone new, wondering what i could do the help welcome him here.
i finally found his stall, walking over to it and knocking on the wall to signal my arrival.
“hello! are you mr. geto?”
as he turned to look at me, my eyes widened in surprise.
“it’s you from the car park last night!”
i blurted out, a warm smile on my lips. it made more sense now, he must’ve seen me at work and wanted to say hi knowing we’d be working together, how nice of him!
he stood up from his desk, taking tall strides towards me, smiling down at me.
god he was taller up close.
“you remembered me?”
he said calmly. his voice was smooth like silk, his eyes trained on me, giving me all of his attention. i looked up at him, my neck straining slightly, the scent of his cologne wafting off his muscular frame; a divine scent, welcomed appreciatively by my nose.
i nodded, my lips parting slightly as i stared at his face.
god he was beautiful.
when they said he was transferred from a different firm, i half expected some old man, but he..he only looked a little older than me..maybe late twenties? early thirties? i was one of the younger workers here, only 24, so mostly everyone was older than me.
“are you alright mrs fushiguro?”
i shook off what sort of trance i was in, closing my mouth as i looked away briefly, clearing my throat. i held the files out to him, giving him a warm smile.
“i was told to give these to you, i’ve looked over everything so it should be relatively easy to input the data. we’re all happy that you’re here mr geto, especially me!”
i said softly, placing my hands in front of me as he took the files from my grasp.
as i said my words, he gave me a certain look. i couldn’t pin what it was..but it sent chills down my spine. good or bad? i didn’t know yet.
he simply nodded, turning around and walking back to his desk, laying the files down. he exuded calm confidence, an addictive aura surrounding him. i feared that if i lingered too long, i’d say something unprofessional.
“your words are extremely kind. thank you mrs fushiguro.”
“you can just call me y/n, i’m sure we’ll be friends soon enough”
i said in a soft tone. he gave me a small smile, his beautiful hair falling into his face slightly as he nodded.
“well then you can call me suguru.”
as i was about to say something, i noticed the time.
“oh no! i’ll be late for my meeting!”
i rushed off, stopping myself and running back to geto.
“goodbye suguru! i’ll see you later!”
i rushed off again, heading into my meeting with suguru stuck on my mind. he was so handsome. too handsome. what was a man like him doing in a stuffy office like this? i was now officially excited to know more about this new mystery man.
who exactly are you mr. geto?
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𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem
cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky.
You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely.
Total quiet.
“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?”
“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?”
“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?”
“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…”
“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?”
“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.”
“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.”
He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh.
“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated.
Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry.
“Spencer?” you ask quietly.
“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?”
“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?”
“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups.
“Where are you?”
After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him.
He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.”
Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?”
“Where was I?”
“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed.
“Still where?”
“Did you hit your head?”
“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.”
“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk.
“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.”
“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.”
“…What?”
You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.”
“I annoy people.”
“You don’t annoy me.”
You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here.
You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?”
“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection.
“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?”
“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly.
“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.”
“Am I in trouble?”
“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?”
“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.”
“Hi Milly,” a new voice says.
You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room.
Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark.
You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly.
“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!”
His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer.
“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask.
You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again.
“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.”
He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath.
“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers.
“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year.
He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.”
“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.”
“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.”
You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”
“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!”
You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.
Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity.
“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek.
“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.”
You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly.
“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says.
“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway.
“I don’t want to be alone forever.”
“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates?
In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess.
You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”
His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.”
“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol.
“She kind of looked like you.”
You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.”
“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.”
“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”
“I know,” he says.
“Do you?”
“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.”
“Is that why you make all your jokes?”
“What jokes, babe?”
“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.”
You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?”
“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.”
“Spencer, you remember everything.”
He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.”
You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him.
You’re happy to.
“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”
“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled.
“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse.
“You look so cute,” he says mournfully.
You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally.
“Can I come home with you?” he asks.
That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.”
— —
Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.”
“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.”
“So you want three?”
He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.”
Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time.
You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?”
He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him.
You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory.
He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that.
The avocado is making him feel sick.
“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?”
“I think I'm gonna throw up.”
“You’re okay.”
“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes.
You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button.
“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.”
“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.”
Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”
“But it’s you.”
“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”
“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now.
You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.
But you’re perfect, he’d said.
To you. And you’re perfect to me.
“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say.
You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again.
You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.”
He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do.
The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…
“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask.
Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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HYBRID!AU PART 2
part one | part two | part three (coming soon!!!)
(: anyway here's what you've all been begging for. a part 2 but it was getting so long...almost 3k words. and so....there will be a part 3.......but for now i hope this satiates you!!!
cw: hurt/comfort, aftermath of hurt???, self-deprecating thoughts, insecurities, mentions of blood and scratching, mentions of past mistreatment, petnames and headpats tho <3
The next time a human approaches you, you’re unable to stop the growls that escape your throat when you hear the pspsp as he tries to approach you. When you hiss, the man scoffs and stomps away muttering a soft ‘stupid cat’ under his breath.
No one approached you for a long while after that. The only way you knew how much time had passed was when the restaurants all threw their leftover food from their workdays. Eating out of the trash was always utterly humiliating, especially when you got caught.
Most people ignored you when they saw you sitting on the sidewalk, getting some sun since it didn’t shine into the little alleyway you hunkered in. Some people would scoff and give you disgusted looks, as if you were a stain on their shoe.
At this point, you were used to humans acting like you were scum of the Earth. After your experience with Simon, human’s behavior towards you no longer surprises you. Though it hurt, you didn’t understand why you were so unlovable.
But then one evening, when the sun was just beginning to set and the temperature was steadily dropping, you were huddled up in what little bit of sun-warmth you could get until it became dark. Your arms were wrapped around your body as you shivered, trying to ignore the way your tummy growled from being empty – the store employees had chased you off before you could steal anything from the dumpster.
A large shadow cast over you and when you looked up, you saw a slender, athletic man. His presence immediately set you on edge and you felt a growl bubbling up in your chest.
“Hey now,” he chided softly, pretty brown eyes crinkled as he squatted in front of you, “None of that, little kitty.”
You scowled up at him. Even crouched down the way he was, he was larger than you.
“Do you have a name?” he asks kindly.
You pause at that. Soap had given you a name. But did it really count as one if your previous owner hadn’t even agreed to it? Still, it was the only thing you really had left of your former companion.
You softly mutter the name you’d been given and the man nods before holding out his large hand, “Kyle. Would you like to come home with me?”
That sends off alarm bells in your head and before you know it, your claws are ripping into his hand and you’re scurrying into the alleyway to cower in the corner.
You hear the man faintly sigh before he stands, knees cracking as he does. You don’t hear anything from him for a few minutes before his heavy boots walk past the alleyway and fade.
You don’t even understand your own reaction. Of course you wanted a home to call your own. But you don’t think you would be able to handle it if he turned out to be the same as Simon. You wouldn’t be able to get attached to a human only to be abandoned on the streets like you were last night's trash. Perhaps it was just easier to reject all human companionship than risk being heartbroken all over again. You had only recently stopped crying yourself to sleep over the memory of your home.
You think that will be the last time you see the man, surely he wouldn’t want anything to do with a cat-hybrid who was mean, but just a couple days later, he’s back. He stands beside you, one bandaged hand gripping a shopping bag. You feel a pang of guilt at the sight of his bandaged wound. He slowly places it beside you, staring at you expectantly.
“This is for you,” he says awkwardly after a second of you staring blankly at him, “It’s some food and water.”
Your stomach growls at the mention of food and as much as you want to peek in the bag, you can’t bring yourself to admit defeat like that. He might think you’re accepting him as your owner if you accept his gift!
But you’re not! You refuse to end up hurt and sad like you had been with Simon! You would rather just live on the street than go through that hurt all over again. You couldn’t stand to give your trust only to be betrayed and mistreated again.
You only wanted someone to love you but apparently that wasn’t in the deck for you and that was okay, you told yourself. No matter how much it hurts to admit.
The man, Kyle, sighs softly when you simply ignore him, the sound almost melancholy. It makes your heart ache in your chest. He casts you one last glance but you keep your gaze down before he walks away, disappearing out of sight at the end of the street.
With his piercing gaze off of you, you turn to the bag and begin rooting inside it.
A couple bottles of water and some hybrid-safe packaged food. Nothing that needed refrigeration but also much better quality and variety than what you had been given by Simon.
You remember how it felt to watch Soap eat delicious meats and fruits and veggies while you got bland, colorless slop. Sure, it was healthy for hybrids but everyone knew it was disgusting. Clearly Simon didn’t care – he was just feeding you so you didn’t inconvenience him by starving to death in his house.
And though Soap would sometimes share his food with you, it wasn’t the same.
This food was yours. Kyle had gotten it for you.
You pull out one of the packages, a neatly wrapped sandwich with all the organic ingredients listed in bright colors. It makes your heart ache just a little bit as you take your first bite, all alone on the sidewalk, quietly wishing Soap was there for you to share it with as payment for all the food he had shared with you.
Kyle makes it a habit to visit you day after day, sometimes bringing food, sometimes just bringing himself. Most of the time, you ignore him but he doesn’t seem deterred in the slightest, only quietly promising to visit you again soon when he bids you goodbye.
It starts to become lonely when he leaves.
You don’t know when it begins, but you find yourself waiting for him. You sit out in the open, mindlessly combing your tail, where he can see you if he approaches. You find yourself thinking about him and if he’ll bring something for you to snack on – he found these delicious fish flavored chips that you were practically addicted to. Though, you didn’t say anything about your liking of them, he kept bringing them so you think he knows.
Some days, Kyle’s visits were quick and fleeting and other times he sat there for a while. He had given up trying to talk to you much since you made it a point to ignore him but you were happy that he hadn’t given up yet.
You know you would have given up by now. But the fact he persists leaves you with a warm, soft feeling in your chest. You’ve never had someone try so hard for you before, Simon certainly never cared to try.
Kyle wasn’t so bad after all, you found yourself deciding. He was quiet but not standoffish. He didn’t try to touch you after you had swiped at him one time when he went to pat your head. He was kind, always complimenting you with ‘pretty kitty’ and ‘sweet kitty’. And best of all, he didn’t ignore your existence like you had grown used to when living with Simon.
Waiting for Kyle to show up became the most grueling part of your day. Minutes felt like hours and any tall man who passed by had you perking up to see if it was Kyle. The urge to get closer to him grew day by day, you wanted him to pet you, you wanted to talk to him.
Maybe living with him wouldn’t be so bad after all. Just the thought of a happy life made you purr to yourself.
You vowed that you would talk to him today, maybe see if you could take him up on that offer he had made that first day you met.
But he never came. As the sun dips behind the horizon, you find your hopes getting squashed. He always came before dark.
With a heavy heart, you curled up in the little cardboard box you had been calling your shelter. It was easy to tell yourself that the ache in your heart was because you wanted to see him and not because you were scared he had given up on you.
The next day, the same thing. You waited all day only for him to not show up. Then the next day. And the next.
A week passed with no sign of him and you tried your best to pretend like it didn’t hurt like hell.
Maybe he really had gotten sick of waiting for you and decided to find a hybrid who would actually talk to him. You couldn’t blame him, you suppose. But it still made that heavy pain settle in your heart like when you had been thrown out by Simon.
One morning, you were awoken by a loud voice shouting down the alleyway, “Alright, come on out, cat.”
The sound of the voice had you sitting up, eyes wide as you looked around. At the entrance, a man stood with his hands on his hips, a hefty utility belt around his waist.
He sighed when he saw you staring blankly at him before he came over, hoisting you up by the arm.
Your growled and hissed, ears pinned back as you fought against his grip. He dragged you out, taking you towards a big black van that had the words ‘hybrid-control’ printed on the side.
You swiped at the man with your free hand, sharp nails slicing into his skin. He cried out in pain but didn’t relent in his hold.
“Stupid fucking cat,” he snapped, “Fuckin’ hate havin’ to pick shits like you up.”
“Excuse me,” a sudden, frantic voice called out, “What are you doing?”
The man holding you turned to look at Kyle, an annoyed look on his face, “Got a complaint about a stray hybrid livin’ around here. Came to pick it up.”
“Oh that’s not necessary,” Kyle said, reaching out to pull you from the man’s grasp, handling you much softer than the stranger, “This hybrid is mine.”
The man looked like he wanted to argue but glanced down at his bleeding arm and rolled his eyes, “Whatever, man. Your funeral. Just get it off the street.”
When the van drove off, Kyle turned to look at you apologetically, “Sorry, I didn’t want to claim ownership over you like that but–”
“Where were you this week?” you find yourself pouting, crossing your arms over your chest petulantly.
Kyle looks shocked before he smiles kindly, “I was away for work. I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you.”
Your pout only deepens, “It’s not like I missed you or anything…”
“Of course not,” he laughs but you both know he doesn’t believe you, “How about I show you my home, hm? It’s not too far from here.”
You agree without complaint, letting Kyle lead the way down the busy streets until it grows quieter and quieter.
The neighborhood is startlingly familiar as he escorts you to his home. It doesn’t take long for you to realize it’s the same neighborhood Simon and Soap live in.
You weren’t exactly sure how far their home was but you couldn’t stop yourself from frowning at the memories.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, “Don’t like it? I know it’s a little boring here but it’s near the base so what can you do?”
“It’s not that,” you quickly said, considering telling Kyle what was on your mind but you instead settled for, “I-It’s nothing.”
You were worried if you told him about your previous home, he might think there was something wrong with you. You didn’t want him to think you were undesirable and put you out on the streets all over again. You silently wondered when you became so insecure.
He hummed and opened the front door for you, “There’s a room at the end of the hall that’s an office right now but it’s all yours once I get it set up with a bed and everything.”
“My own room?” you ask softly, fluffy ears perked up.
“Of course,” he smiles, “This is your home now.”
You feel tears prick your eyes but you quickly look away before Kyle can see them. It felt so nice that he actually considered it your home too and not just his. Simon always made you feel like you were barely welcome and only there because he put up with you until he couldn’t stand you anymore.
“Oh before I forget,” he said, grabbing a box off of the table, “I got you this.”
He showed you the contents, a cute, dainty collar with a metal tag in the shape of a fish with your name engraved on it.
“Why do you have a collar?” you asked, tilting your chin up so he could fasten it around your neck.
“I had hopes that you would let me take you home one of these days,” he laughed, a boyish, kind sound that made a smile grow on your own face, “I wasn’t going to give up until you were safe and sound with me, love. I knew this was going to be your home one way or another.”
You spend the whole day wandering around the house and exploring, nudging against every surface to spread your scent on it. You hadn’t done that much in Simon’s house, too scared you’d get reprimanded for dirtying up the furniture or something.
But Kyle didn’t care in the slightest. He simply smiled when he saw you nuzzling the pillows. He even trimmed your nails so they weren’t nearly as sharp anymore.
It was nice living with him.You quickly realized how different your life felt with Kyle than how it felt with Simon.
Kyle was kind and friendly, calling you by your name and petnames and not just ‘hey you’ or ‘cat’. The affection in his tone was palpable and just hearing how sweetly he spoke to you made you purr uncontrollably.
And he didn’t once raise his voice at you or chase you off the couch when you were napping. He gave you the softest pats on the head and let you snooze on his lap without a single complaint.
He never forgot to feed you and always gave you the most delicious things he could find. He ate at the table with you and told you all about his day, making an effort to talk to you and learn about the things you liked to do while he was at work.
You were happy to finally have a home to call your own. But deep down, you missed Soap. You missed his energetic happiness and how affectionate he was with you in a way that only hybrids could be. He was the only true companion you had ever had and he had left his mark on you. You wondered about him every day, especially when you heard the front door open and you half expected him to come running in with a thrilled grin on his face, ready to regale you with tales of outside.
You passed their house one day while on a walk with Kyle, something he took to doing as an activity with you (he didn’t want you to get bored or stagnant just sitting inside all day), trying your best to act like seeing the home you used to call your own didn’t make your heart ache painfully in your chest.
“There’s a hybrid that lives here, you might like him. His name’s Soap,” Kyle said when he saw you pausing in front of their home, “Owner is Simon Riley. I work with him, kind of a standoffish guy, you should probably steer clear if you run into him. He’s not the most friendly.”
“Yeah…” you found yourself mumbling, barely even registering anything Kyle had said, a frown etched on your lips before you looked at Kyle, “Can we go home?”
“Of course. Let’s get you some food, pretty kitty,” Kyle cooed affectionately, patting your head before leading you back home.
You casted a glance at the home you used to call your own, you were startled to see Soap standing in the window, eyes wide, brows furrowed, and hurt written all over his face. The sight alone made your own eyes sting. He had never looked at you like that before. He looked so heartbroken.
Kyle cooed softly to get your attention again, leading you down the sidewalk and away from the house. Soap’s figure in the window faded from view and you felt your head spinning.
Soap and Simon’s scent faded the further you got away from it. But once you entered your home with Kyle, your scent and his mixed together in a way that it never did with Simon’s. You couldn’t help but purr, the pain and anxiety in your heart fading.
But still, your mind lingered on the distraught face of the best friend you left behind.
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you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry
only the sun has come this close, only the sun
gojo satoru x wife!reader; tooth-rotting domestic fluff; gojo LOVERBOY™️ satoru; you aren't any better than him [but less poetic abt the predicament]; tw: pregnancy, 1 tiny mention of throwing up; satoru calls you 'cookie'; and he redefines the word besotted here; his thoughts are also a little yandere-ish but tht's cute, methinks; 2.3k wc; i just wish satoru was real and in my arms rn T-T
belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be read as a stand-alone fic if you wanna
the fic title and summary don't rly hv a very strong connection to the fic plot— except the fact they fit both satoru's & reader's characters in this series to a tee ^_^
fic title and summary from 'gps' by shauna barbosa // header frm pinterest // divider by @/benkeibear // jjk isn't mine
you are clingy.
always have been, in fact, now that gojo thinks about it. long before the two of you were married. long before you were engaged. quite a long time before the two of you were anything apart from friends at best, acquaintances at worst.
yet now, as he feels a pair of arms squeeze tighter around his middle, not really still very much squeezing the air out of him— your husband reckons you've grown loads clingier now—
and he loves you for this. loving you even more when he feels kisses being pressed into the space between his shoulder blades.
soft lips, a tad chapped. not without the shy grazing of your teeth.
just how he likes it.
very much how he adores you.
affection, settled deeper than should be feasible into the hollow of his chest, flutters a little when you nuzzle into his back; that pleased little hum of yours quick to follow it. smiling, gojo turns his head a touch to catch a glimpse of you. it takes a beat before you remove your face to lock eyes with him, before returning your face to his back.
he huffs a chuckle, sounding incredibly fond all the same. his feelings for you can never be suppressed anyway. time has proved this to him enough number of times.
he runs a finger down the length of your arm, relishing how it leaves a line of goosebumps in its wake—
"you wanna tell me something, cookie?" your husband finally asks.
your reply doesn't come immediately. and when it does, it is nothing more than a noncommittal noise. too spoiled. too stubborn. a bit too satisfied as well, the emotion further expressed when you nuzzle his back yet again.
gojo's smile grows bigger. his cheeks hurt a little.
he thinks he can live forever with this kind of pain, not even a sigh of complaint ever leaving him.
"aha—" he exclaims loudly, still soft enough to keep the quiet of this sweet bubble you've pulled you both into, "so it's just my irresistible charm that's making you so clingy tonight, hm?"
another beat passes.
and just when he thinks he might have to do with another one of your indistinct sounds for an answer, you speak. to be more precise, whine and grumble, everything so sweet in your adorable voice.
"it's not me being clingy, 'toru— it's the baby— the baby is making me so clingy. making me feel as if i can't live even for one second without squishing you like thisss!!!"
the first reaction your tightening grasp brings out is the wind getting knocked out of his lungs— the second reaction being all that oxygen, nitrogen and carbon dioxide being replaced by a feeling so fierce and so tender— the strongest thinks his knees would have buckled under its weight had he not been lying down but standing—
not that he really minds that, though.
for you, he's always on his knees. whether you ask it of him or not. the only light in this world he is willing to bow his eyes before.
it takes him not too much effort but gojo makes a point of struggling whilst he shifts in your hold. and grins when he finally comes face-to-face with you, drinking in the way your brows are puckered and lips a little parted in an incredulous expression.
his grin simmers down however, when his six eyes notice the spark in your tummy. so tiny. so blinding. so priceless— to him and you both— he knows this, surer than he is of the scars on his palms.
thumbing the hem of your t-shirt, he hums, dragging his eyes back to be drowned in yours, "how many weeks along are you, wifey?"
"satoru," you start, voice turning sharper and just as skeptical as your face was, still is— only to be shushed by a finger to your lips. the man addressed feels his heart skip a beat at your confused big scowl— it's got to be a crime to be as cute as you— really!!!
he pinches your cheek lightly.
"it isn't like i don't remember that, cookie. i just wanted you to say it— c'mon, tell me quickly!" he presses, noting then utilising the moment your face begins to lose its cynical hue over his words.
the scowl lingers there however, twisting your delectably pretty lips—
"nine weeks," you say, hooking a leg over his waist to pull him closer. can he be any closer to you, though? your answer is always a yes, he knows you well enough to know this.
"thirty-one weeks more before we meet our baby."
it's not exactly thirty-one weeks; it's thirty weeks and five days before either of you can meet the baby, but gojo decides not to point out the error. you always hate it when he points out your tiny errors and make a point of snarking about it every time he opens his mouth to speak a word next— the man is wary not to upset his wife, yes, thank you very much.
he offers a sage "hm" in response, one he observes you accept slowly. the scowl lifts itself into a curve so fond— gojo thinks once before he vaults his next query your way. not wanting to see that smile vanish in front of him—
the ask won't cause anything so. but he can never be too sure. he has read too many books and articles to not grasp how fragile pregnancy hormones can make one be.
he tucks a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear.
fingers tarrying there when he sees you lean into his touch— not akin a moth to a bright flame, no. he can never hurt you. not even for once in his wildest dreams—
but how the north pole of a magnet hurries towards the south pole of another magnet. so different in their nature, a perfect pair of opposite crafted by the nature— maybe that's why nothing can ever stop them from rushing to each other once they're proximated, the lines of their mutual attraction existing even when thousands of miles apart.
just like you and him.
contrasting, complementing, completing each other every instant, in every facet of life.
he lets his fingers dance through the tangles in your hair, unravelling the knots in there. that pleased little hum of yours reaches him once again.
stowing the sound away, later to be placed on a pedestal in an ornate glass case as the most valuable praise ever given to him for his effort, he runs a gentle hand, nails scratching your scalp carefully.
"and at nine weeks old, just how big might our baby be?"
"i think there is a chart comparing our baby's size to fruits..." syllables unhurried and a pinch mumbled, you press your heel to draw him in a little more. "i did not really read that too attentively— oh. but. yeah!" a grin forms on your features, sleepy still twinkling in excitement.
"shoko sent me a link to this website earlier today— any ideas, 'toru, what it might be about?"
gojo does have an idea. he has a very, very good idea.
but he chooses not to say that aloud. you look so extremely adorable when you are being this excited. he would hate nothing more than to see your amped up self getting interrupted by him.
he shakes his head. your grin brightens. eyes crinkling with a glint, he can tell even without looking, is knowing.
the tips of your fingers caress his bare back, softer than a breath. "it's about when our baby forms which organs— our baby's eyes are being formed now!!! isn't that too cute, 'toru?"
"it is, cookie," he hums without any hesitation, six eyes activating one more time to zero in on that teeny-tiny spark. then deactivating when he looks back up to your sleepy eyes. a terribly tickled, equally wicked glimmer creeps into his grin. "so our baby is just like a tiny ball of cells with two big blue eyes, huh? they must look so scary, heh— ouch!"
your pinch did not really pain him, but gojo does his best to mimic an awfully wounded puppy, sogging wet from the rain and waiting at the doorstep with his moving blue eyes— it takes less than three seconds before you let go of your glare with a sigh.
you massaging the sore spot on his arm, your husband watches you give yet another sigh.
"first of all, there's no guarantee our baby will have your eye color and not mine, 'toru," you explain, pinning him under your drowsy stare, "it is very difficult to predict that for sure— and secondly: i'll punch you if you ever call our baby scary— sure, they don't really look like a human in this moment, but they'll slowly get there in forty weeks— as per the website, their face, hands and feet are forming in the ninth—"
"okay, alright!! i get your point, my insanely smart, insanely beautiful, insanely sexy wife," gojo cuts in, smiling while warning bells chime in his head at the faintest gloss in your eyes—
but maybe they weren't noisy enough. that is why he doesn't bite his tongue, rather continuing, "but you weren't actually blaming our poor human-ey baby for your clinginess, were you? it's not like they have a telepathic communication set up with you— hell, maybe they haven't even started forming their brain!"
"the baby's brain starts forming by the fifth week, satoru," your quiet reply reaches him exactly when he gets his last giggle out. the moist sheen in your eyes grows more prominent.
and his insides begin to twist—
one-third helpless. two-thirds contrite.
you don't stop talking, tone lower than he has heard you use in nearly forever, "and you better not comment on my bond with our baby— i'll punch you twice if you—"
"i wasn't doing that and i promise to never make you feel that way, my cutie-pie cookie," gojo interrupts, voice far gentler than earlier, just as low as yours, "but feel free to throw me out the house if i ever do that, even accidentally. okay?"
you're not okay.
you never are, when it comes to you being actually harsh to him, even when he's the one asking you to be— shakespeare once called love to be blind— your husband doesn't think you're blind, however. it is your well-contemplated decision to see his mistakes and see each of them as excusable, perfectly pardonable, no matter how silly or serious the world might regard them to be—
you make a noise. somewhat annoyed. unhappy too, yeah. before you push your face into the crook of his neck, nose nuzzling into the flesh there.
you would have bitten him by now. but he reckons you might be a bit too tired for all that. you couldn't even finish your dinner before facing the urge to throw up tonight, yet again.
feeling sorry, almost, gojo resumes his ministrations to your hair, half because you need to fall asleep now; the hands on the clock are close to striking midnight. the other half because he just loves playing with your hair— only to still when you suddenly pull your head back.
brows furrowed as you peer at him, eyes big and earnest.
"you don't really mind when i hug you like this, do you, 'toru?"
"no, cookie!! of course not!!" the man wastes not even a breath before he rushes to explain— because seriously, what!??
sure, he wasn't the first one to fall between you two. but ever since he did fall, he has never not expressed how every second away from you, every fraction of an instant away from you, causes him pain.
and yeah, he might have been a tad too dramatic whilst doing so, but you've always been so good at reading him— then why on earth can't you read him now? why don't you read, he loves it when you seek him out, he loves you more than anyone and anything else??
"good," your satisfied little chirp gives him a light shove away from his frantic thoughts. something tells him he should be put on alert by the way your lips curve into a smug smile next.
but gojo finds himself uncaring. just immensely relieved as he trails his fingers from the back of your head to your chin. thumb reaching out to brush the corner of your infectious smile. you continue.
"but even if you did mind, sorry not sorry— you were the one who put the ring on my finger, so you have to deal with everything i'm, mister!! no refunds nor complaints can be filed here, gojo-san~"
and neither refunds nor complaints he wishes to file, satoru muses to himself as he cups your cheek in one hand. bending down to steal the taste of your beam, your tease, your love for him on his tongue—
not when he has received the world in exchange for letting go of that poor splintered mess of a heart, he used to call his, but is now yours.
and will always stay yours—
"hey 'toru— what will you do if i chomp on your fingers right now, like really hard? will you yell? or will you be the freak that you're and enjoy it, huh?"
gojo pauses.
and wonders.
is there any binding vow one can make to secure oneself to another in every lifetime, for all eternity?
he hopes there is.
your husband really, seriously hopes there is—
'cause no way in heaven, earth or hell, does gojo satoru want to let go of you— and he will not let go of you.
this idea was ROTTING in my brain for ages, but wht gave me the spark– the boost to write this was the wonderful sukuna fic written by ari @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ❤️❤️❤️ i seriously love u & ur writings sm, babes 🥹🥹 everyone pls go check their masterlist out. it's studded w diamonds and pearls 😌😌🥰
and this is also for my sweet & sour bestie mimi @avatarofstars 🤭🤭— u 🤝 me in being clingy af towards our fictional hubbies 😂😂🥰
hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️
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♡︎ 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 ♡︎
characters: AFAB!sub!jing yuan, dan heng, blade x gn!dom!reader
warnings: AFAB characters, overstimulation, headcannon+small drabble format, praise, degrading, cock/strap traditions, dacryphilia, usage of bullet vibrator, slight brat taming, nipple stimulation, fingering, oral, cervix fucking, begging, squirting, clit pinching, cock/strap warming, size kink, belly bulge, breeding, creampie, mating press, full nelson, just a personal headcannon of how i think they would act when overstimulated
notes: someone wrote “nobody writes ahegao quite like nobu does” in one of their repost tags and im fucking shitting tears😭😭
the giggler
jing yuan loves to be overstimulated. he loves the feeling of it, the adrenaline rush, the high, the feeling of finally cumming all over your fingers, tongue, strap whatever it may be and the feeling of you continuing to move, drawing out his orgasm while also driving him into an overstimulated mess
has the cutest giggles and laughs when he gets too much pleasure. he doesn’t even try to hide or won’t even try to hide it. why would he when you were making him feel so good over and over again? hell, he even wants other people to hear it, to remind them that you were his lover and only his. and how only he gets to feel the overwhelming amount of pleasure only you can bring to him and no one else
but, it comes with a catch. he needs a lot of foreplay and/or teasing and/or orgasm denial for him to finally cave in and shake his head before starting to blabber incoherent shit about how good your cock feels inside his gushing pussy, how he could feel your tip fucking his cervix, how he wanted you to fuck a baby inside him etc etc
and i mean a LOT of it
as a centuries old war hardened general, it’s safe to say that he had gotten used to some feelings and emotions. pleasure being one of them
so if you want to get him to break and to become absolutely dumb and drunk on lust and pleasure, you have to tease him a lots before getting into it. if not, he will somehow find a way to outsmart you and take the reigns. he’s a bit of a brat and a spoiled prince wrapped up into one after all
will tell you what to do and how to do it if you have failed in getting him needy in your foreplay. he will fist your hair and thrust his hips into your mouth, making you unable to breath for a moment or two with his clit right at your nose. will push you down and flip your positions so he could ride your face, all the while chuckling at your cute attempt to push him back down. a goddamn brat and he will show it to the fullest when you fail at your foreplay
did i mention he was a brat? well now i have. a fucking brat to the max and he isn’t ashamed of it. will definitely question your power in the bedroom, try to overpower you and he will. he literally swings a 7000kg glaive in one hand like its nothing and he will show it by throwing you around. gently and consensually of course, he wouldn’t want to hurt his beloved
but fully expect him to be cocky and devious. “can you say no to my pretty pussy?”, “so sleepy. oh sorry, i didn’t know your cock was inside me hehe”, “was that all?” you get the gist. will shamelessly yawn in the middle of fucking not because he is sleepy or tired, but simply because he is a brat. a goddamn brat
so, how can you get him to be needy and won’t make him go into his bratty side? simple. shove a long distance controlled vibrator inside his cunt and leave it there for the whole day for him to suffer at work. but if you’re going to do that, be sure to mute the ringtone for your phone for the day since he will call you, send you messages, pictures, videos every damn hour. the closer his hour for shift ending comes, the more frequent the buzzing of your phone will become because he will grow much more needier
when finally he’s back home and frantically pawing at your pants when barely through the doors, that’s when you know he had absolutely no intention of being a brat. how can he when his whole pants were slowly getting stained from his multiple orgasms?
when he’s gladly bending himself over, arching his back for you as he wiggles his hips, he will ask you to come inside. jing yuan is great with kids and such a huge family man, he will ask you over and over repeatedly to breed him. cum inside him, fill up his cute dripping cunt, put him in whatever position you want and make sure to breed his pretty cunt, you can finally raise your own family together!
remember the long distance controlled vibrator i mentioned? make sure to keep it on and buzzing inside his cunt at all times when he’s away at work, or else it won’t work. during meetings or report hearings, jing yuan had to leave to the bathroom a lot of times and it genuinely got his subordinates concerned for his health. the red face, the heavy breathing and sometimes, the jolts of his body or the bleeding bruised lips of his made the cloud knights worry and some even suggested for him to leave the seat of divine foresight early to look after his health. if only they knew just how their dearest general was pathetically biting on his hand to muffle his screams in the bathroom as he squirted all over himself
“[naaammeee], ‘m mmgh♡︎! aaaaangh haah mngck♡︎♡︎ i-i’m home!” jing yuan’s voice called out, weak mewls of pleasure slipping through as he collapsed onto the floor the moment the doors of your shared home was closed. desperately humping the floor, trying to push the vibrator deeper into his gushing pussy, your lover didn’t realize that you were leaning against the wall of the kitchen, watching him with a knowing smile. there was a wet patch growing in his usual red pants, growing more and more the further he humped the air in desperation. see? your tough brat was so easy to tame.
“you feeling okay, darling?” you call out, taking out the controlled from your pants pocket and messing with the switch. flipping it up, down, up to the highest level, before going to the lowest level. it was cute to see the ever so tough brat turn into a delirious mess from just a single small toy. all because he was being so stubborn about how you weren’t the boss of him. walking over to where he was kneeling on the floor, you reach your free hand out. tilting his head up, a thumb swiping away at the drool that was beginning to pool on his lower lip, you tilt your head to the side, asking the question again with a firm hold onto his chin.
“n-no…! no no no, not at aamgh♡︎♡︎ h-hhaaaggm not at all♡︎!” he shakes his head viciously, dragging out his words and tripping over them with moans and mewls falling in between. pathetically, he tugs on the hem of your pants, trying to get to his favorite treat, the one thing he’s been missing this whole day.
“n-need you… need you right now, need your—♡︎♡︎! need yo-our..! c-cock right now...♡︎!” jing yuan mutters between whimpers, finally, his shaky hands manage to pull down your pants and undergarments just enough to have your strap out. a needy whine falling as he places slobbering wet kisses on the tip, giving it a few licks as he flutters his lashes at you in an effort to manipulate you to give him what he was non-verbally asking.
knowing full well that he wouldn’t take no for an answer and that yanqing might come home soon, you drag him up to his feet — an action that was heavily protested against as jing yuan cries out after his favorite treat being taken away. once inside the comfort of your shared bedroom, by the time you have locked the door behind you, he was already naked. clothes messily strewn on the floor and on the bed, the many orgasm’s slick dripping down his puffy cunt to his ass and to the bedsheets eventually. you could see the light trembling of his pussy lips, an action caused by the vibrator fucking away inside him still.
turning the vibrator off, you take the toy out of his puffy cunt. jing yuan let out a drawn out mewl at the feeling, clenching around nothing as he tries to replace the empty feeling for something, anything. but seeing you starting to strip, he knew what he wanted. and he knew how he wanted it.
spreading his legs open further, his hand comes down, flicking at his enlarged clit with a jolt before spreading open his labia for you to take in how he was already so needily wet and dripping for you. a drunk giggle escaping him when the tip of your cock is right against his folds, wiggling his hips enticingly.
“[nnaameeee]~ you gotta fuck a baby in me this time, owhkayyy?♡︎♡︎ hehehe♥︎”
the crybaby
the cutest out of all three of them, in my personal opinion
he just gets overstimmed so easily and quickly, it’s adorable in the way that he brokenly begs for a moment of respite. legs shaking, smaller body jolting violently at the smallest of touches like your hand ghosting over his hardened nipples. don’t even get me started on the way he cutely squeals out loud when you pinch his clit augh
maybe it’s due to his nature as a vidyadhara and not a full human but every little touch is received with so much sensitivity and sensuality, it gets so easy to turn him into a blabbering mess in record time. push his smaller body against the wall and finger his gushing pussy while rolling your thumb over his clit. in no time, his legs are shaking as he bites your hand, his orgasm washing over him quickly and violently. but don’t just stop there, keep flicking at his clit, pinch it, tug on it, push a hand on the small bulge on his belly and he’ll be left sobbing by the second or third round
he’s noticeably smaller than the other two and it carries out into his size kink so well. he just wants to be pushed around and put into impossible, near painful positions and man-handled until he’s left a blabbering idiot
make him cockwarm you while asking him to read you a story or a book under the guise that you had a nightmare and can’t fall asleep without his soothing voice and soft cunny wrapped around your cock. at first he’ll huff and puff, saying that you’re a liar and just wants to fuck him. four or five pages in and his voice is already strained, whines coming out as hiccups and sniffles follow soon after
but just because he’s a crybaby doesn’t mean he’s an idiot. he knows how much you love his pretty steel grey eyes unfocused and hazy, brimming with tears and he will use that to his advantage. will make sure to play with his nipples or push down on the bulge in his tummy when cockwarming you so he could get teary eyed quicker. the moment he sniffles and grinds himself down on you, he knows you’re a goner and would give him what he wants
he may be a crybaby, but he’s also a goddamn minx so beware of that
tugs on your sleeve so cutely, looking at you with a flushed face and stuttered words to ask you if you wanna spend time with him in his room. today’s trailblazing expedition was too long and tiring after all, “surely you would enjoy some cuddles…?” or “i just wanted to help you patch up your wounds. i was just worried”
yeah sure, dan heng. just say that you wanna get fucked until you’re squealing out like a slut with fat tears running down your cute red cheeks. thank the aeons the express’ walls are thick and soundproof. if not, who knows the amount of noise complaint you would have gotten from everyone
has slight oral fixation. slightly. but that’s only because he wants to see you crumble and give into his non-verbal demands and just ruin him. he’s a bit too shy to ask directly after all
long serpentine tongue wrapping around your strap, pulling it into his mouth. will gag and choke so loudly with the tip of the fat dildo pushed right down his throat, hitting his uvula and choking his throat. he can complain about sore throats and pained jaws all he wants but you both know that he loves to suckle on your strap with tears filling his eyes
the most messiest cock sucker and that’s saying something bc blade is the one who has the biggest oral fixation out of the three of them. he’ll place wet kisses to the weeping tip of your cock, running the slitted snake like tongue over the weeping slit of your cock teasingly before wrapping it around your dick. loves the scent and the taste of your pre, basically addicted to it as he opens his mouth wider, slipping your cock inside the warm cavern of his mouth inch by inch
but be aware that he will also try to take advantage of this position. he will try to bat his lashes at you so he can continue suckling on your strap like he would be sucking on a lolipop, all under the guise to ‘make you happy’. when in reality, he would try to make you cum over and over to try and get you overstimulated. when in such position, just fist his hair and fuck his throat. gets him crying in no time like the crybaby he is
“… bamboo whispers in the w-wind, a secret pa-aaangh! aah aaah hmgk♡︎ a s-secret pa-act... ♡︎!“ the soothing voice of your lover drawls out into a weak sniffle, hands gripping the book filled with love poetry from his home planet tightly. so tight, you feared that he might just tear the book apart with his claws. you had crawled into his bed yet again to torment him today, the dildo hitting all the sensitive spots in his gushing cunt, dan heng couldn’t help but weakly whine when your hands around his waist tightens to not let him move.
“go on. i’m listening” you coo out, forcing him to stay still on your lap while his voice continue to drawl out. sniffles and broken pleads replacing his ever so stoic mask, a voice that is usually so cold and distant, always scolding other turning into one of mindless blabber about how badly he wanted your strap to fuck his pussy. you couldn’t help but laugh.
“is that what it says on the pages? i may be still learning the strokes but the next line seems to be the stroke for two” you point at the kanji on the book he was holding in his shaking hands, the strokes of the language seeming familiar to you. it was an easy kanji to read after all. yet not to your boyfriend it seems.
“please! p-please please move! i beg you, [n-naamee]♡︎ you gotta fuck meeh♡︎ you gotta fuck me you gotta fuck me— you have to fuck meeegck—♡︎♡︎!!” dan heng squeals, shaking thighs bucking down onto your dick, trying to gain some friction. it was enough, he had read you hundreds of love poetries from his home planet. he had been taking your pronged torture for long enough, please just fuck his cunt already!
“so impatient” you huff, putting the book away with a book marker tucked between the pages before hooking your hands under his knees. pulling him up and over until dan heng was left wailing at the sudden change in position. hooking your arms under his knees, his legs are left dangling in the air with nothing to support himself but for his hands to cling to your biceps. even then, he couldn’t hold for long as he jolts about in your arms like a hopping bunny, painting your dildo in his cum when the tip kissed his cervix.
“guuchk♥︎!! d-deep! aah ah naahmg haah t-too deep♡︎♡︎ [n-name] you’re f-fucckk fuck fuck—♡︎♥︎ fucking my cerviinxx my ceerrvv—♡︎♡︎ mngh unngya♥︎!” punched out sobs comes from his pretty lips, drawling out into whiny cries when you move him up and down. you could see the bulge in his tummy appear and disappear every little moment. every jolt, every gasp, every little whiny cry making the bulge in his tummy to get more detailed. he was so adorably small.
“‘m sorry, darling. i’m sorry, didn’t mean it. didn’t mean to fuck you this deep” you coo out apologies, lifting him just a bit so your strap won’t sink so deep to the point it would kiss his cervix. as much as you loved your crybaby gasping and writhing, you didn’t want the reason for such reaction to be pain.
claws scratching at every inch of skin he could touch, jaw slack open in a silent scream, you could barely make out his shrill yell of what appears to be your name when dan heng squirts over your cock after just a few thrusts. you could see the overflowing amount of cum just dripping down your cock, trailing down to your legs and staining the mattress. with a click of your tongue, you pinched his clit, making the shorter man sniffle with a squeal.
“‘m soowryyy… sorry sorry—♡︎ d-didn’t mean to be bad... s-soowwh uunhg hyaagk ungc gugcck—♥︎♥︎!!”
the hissy bitch
alright, so i know i’m going into territory that has been charted way too many times before by blade lovers standard but he def has piercings. on his nipples, tongue and on his clit. probably got the first three by losing a drunk bet or something or maybe he just wanted it but the last one, the clit one, is definitely his latest piercing. one that he got after his relationship with you began and he had made the sudden rash decision to get one so he could see your reaction and to feel you just messing with it while fucking him
there is a REASON why he always keeps his chest bandaged up. there is a goddamn reason and that reason is his nipple piercings and the fact that his chest is generally very sensitive im being delusional
so what does that bring and why have i specified it? simple. titty fucking. nipple stimulation. seeing his pretty big, round chest jiggle every time your cock sinks back into his dripping cunt. pinch it, roll it, tug on them, suckle on them, do anything to him with his nipple piercing and he’s scratching at your back, mauling it like an animal
the reason i see him as a hissy bitch is because he likes to throw small temper tantrums when he gets too overstimulated. he’s crying, begging, hitting your shoulders, back, scratching at them and leaving deep red scratch marks, perhaps even breaking the skin sometimes. how come blade get overstimulated quickly? because he is very touch deprived. he’s been alone and immortal for too damn long and his ass is fucking touch starved. i just know it in my bones
genuinely, he is indeed very touch starved. since his rebirth as an immortal, he had felt nothing but pain, anguish and suffering and therefore, has basically gotten immune to touches. especially the violent and bloody ones. but gentle, tender, affectionate ones? find him jumping away from your soft hands like a frightened cat, it’s goddamn heartbreaking. so when he finally gets his cunt fucked, blade would be overstimmed too fast due to receiving a sudden abundance of affection and touches
will shake his head ‘no’ when asked if you would wanna stop due to his tears. you were just concerned but blade didn’t wanted this onslaught of pleasure to stop. desperately rides your fingers, mouth, strap — anything. loves the feeling of being on top of you, gives him the slight feeling of being in control. until it all gets thrown out the window when you force him to stop bouncing, hands gripping his hips tightly as a warning. will whine and try to grind down, trying to chase that high again but will only end up with a pout and hissy tears falling down his cheeks
another one who loves the feeling of being stuffed full and overstimulated. it’s almost like he gets high from the feeling. loves having his pussy fucked in any way you please until he can’t stay on his hands or feet without shaking. it’s just so cute to see him shaking like a fawn when fucking him doggy style
prepare to have yourself used as a chew toy as well as a scratcher. blade’s almost like a cat, hissy and whiny but also so greedy and preferring certain things in certain manner. will bite at your shoulders, hands, fingers to muffle himself but also to try and get his shit together. will scratch at your back, thighs, wherever he could reach. such a spoiled brat
when eating him out, be sure to give an extra care and love to his clit piercing. constantly flicking it with your tongue would usually work though, gets his legs all shaky and jolty soon enough. maybe pair it with flicking his pierced nubs and bladie will be squirting into your mouth with an embarrassing high pitched shriek. make sure to clean up all of his mess before diving right back into his gushing cunny. he may not say it but he will expect you to go back to eating him out like he’s your last meal
has the BIGGEST oral fixation out of the three of them. like, down bad, delicious, scrumptious, sloppy oral fixation. and he is happy to give it 90% of the times due to his tongue piercing. knows how good it makes you feel and how you like to see his pretty face between your legs, sucking on the large dildo like his life depends on it. not a single thought or a single moment of choking from him, it’s almost like he doesn’t have a gag reflex
you just came back from mission, from being away from him even for a single day? unacceptable. let him bend over for you, you can get your stress out by fucking his already dripping wet pussy. too tired? that’s fine. take of your pants and get comfortable cuz’ he can stay between your legs for days
not a single minute of respite has greeted you ever since you came back from your latest mission, stepping foot into your shared home with your stoic lover. perhaps the single gentle kiss to your cheek before he started to leave slobbering wet kisses on your lips was the only warning and moment of rest you have gotten. not even shoes off yet and blade was already unbuckling your belt, giving you the puppy eyes and grumbling about how you’ve been away for too damn long. whining about how much he missed you and needed your strap to fuck him dumb. how his pretty pussy had missed you so much.
“n-nnghyaa♡︎♡︎ m-missed you... missed you s’ much, [name]! f-fuck me fuck me fuck me, fuck your favorite cunt gyyuck—♥︎♥︎ a-aaanh! haah ah ah mmngk—♡︎♥︎!!” unusually docile red eyes roll to the back of his skull, jaw going slack wide open as you push his legs up, feeling your strap hit him deeper than he thought was possible. he could feel your weight push him down, keeping it still on the bed and to stop him from wiggling his hips entirely. this new position caused his cat like pupils to widen, turning into heart shapes as you chuckle at the dazed look in his eyes.
“such a needy brat” you coo out in a condescending manner, pushing his legs up in the air with your hands hooked under his knees to keep him in place. pulling out until halfway out, you sink back into blade’s dripping cunt. a squeal tearing from his throat alongside the filthy wet squelch of his cunt tightening around your dildo. it was so easy to get him dumb.
“t-too nngh much! too muchtoomuchtoomuch♡︎! fucking m-my womb—♡︎ [n-name], y-youuwrr crush— crushing my wombgg aangh ah ah! gyyuck eengh aaangh nyaagh♥︎♥︎!!” the familiar feeling of his nails scratching at your arms takes place, tearing at the skin, clawing at any part of your body he can come in contact with. a desperate attempt to ground his already long gone mind, too deep into the throes of pleasure that he didn’t even realize his shaking hands were weakly pulling your hips to fuck deeper into his warm walls.
“don’t be so dramatic, bladie. i won’t be able to crush your womb in this position” you coo out mockingly, wiping away the fat globs of tears that continue to pour of his eyes. red and yellow eyes rolled to the back of his skull, wide open mouth letting out the most salacious squeals and shrieks of your name and how you were fucking his womb falling out. legs weakly dangling in the air, jolting and bristling at every deep thrust you fuck into his velvety walls. the lewd wet squelching noises were alongside your grunts and blade’s whiny sobs were the only noise in the room. you would probably get noise complaints the next morning due to blade’s loudmouthed blabbering self.
letting go of one of his legs, you shove your fingers into his mouth. almost as if it was an instinct, blade’s tongue wet your fingers. suckling on the two digits as it his life depended on it with the most cutest heart shaped pupils staring at you. once you deemed them wet enough, you take your fingers out of his mouth. an action that blade showed his hatred towards as his pierced tongue comes past his lips, trying to chase after your fingers.
“gghcck—♡︎♥︎♥︎♥︎!!” a sharp wail taking place as blade arches his back, his whole body shaking, soft big tits jiggling when you pinched at his pierced clit. rolling, tugging, flicking at the hardened nub as blade sobs about cumming before drenching your cock with his squirting. you had thought of him to be satisfied with it, but turns out you have underestimated your lover’s neediness when his strong scarred thighs comes to wrap around your waist, legs locked behind your back when you tried to pull out.
sigh… it’s times like this that makes you glad for your amount of stamina.
#nobu.writes#sub hsr#sub honkai star rail#sub!hsr#sub!honkai star rail#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr smut#honkai star rail smut#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan smut#sub jing yuan#dan heng x reader#dan heng smut#sub dan heng#blade x reader#blade smut#sub blade#sub!character#sub character#afab character#afab!character#dom reader#dom!reader#x dom reader
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Eternal Love
Summary: Nobody loves as intensely as an Uchiha, and no Uchiha loves as intensely as Uchiha Madara. He will bring this world to its knees just to avenge her and to be reunited with her again, and as far as he’s concerned, he will succeed. Damn anyone who dares to get in his way.
Genre: Marriage!AU, Established Relationship!AU, Uchiha Couple!AU, Reanimation Jutsu!AU, Fluff!AU, Fluff-Smut!AU, Angst!AU (Barely Any Angst, Just Some Sprinkles - Happy Endings All Around)
Pairings: Uchiha Madara x Wife! Reader, Uchiha Madara x Uchiha! Reader
Warnings: Possessiveness/Protectiveness (Very Mild), Death and Mentions of Death (Mainly Flashbacks), Reanimation of the Dead, War/Conflict (No Matter the Era), Fighting/Mild Violence
Word Count: 8,303
Written: October 27th, 2023, Posted: November 30th, 2023
When you opened your eyes, you weren’t expecting to be greeted by a boy you didn’t recognize with red eyes that you just knew were the Sharingan.
You instinctively raised your guard and as soon as you could feel yourself get in full control of your body you activated your own Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan and took a step back, ready to counter if necessary. You had to be prepared, - your vision was still blurry from being woken up and everything was still slightly disorienting even with the Sharingan but you couldn’t let your opponent see that.
Once your vision started to come back into focus you took a quick look around your surroundings and saw Hashirama and Tobirama, standing alongside who you knew to be Hiruzen, the Third Hokage, and a blonde man you didn’t recognize. A little further behind were a few more people you also didn’t recognize, but the hand sign that the pale one held in place let you know that they were one to reanimate you.
You let go of the annoyance you felt at someone using that Jutsu and refocused, looking until your gaze found the boy from earlier whose red eyes you woke to. What you saw made you let out a small gasp. “… Izuna…? Is that you, Izuna?” You took a small step further, your brows furrowing, before you paused. “No, your Chakra is different. But there’s no denying, you look just like him.” You spoke with a small smile on your face, stepping a little closer. You knew it was mostly impossible to see Izuna in the world of the living again but this boy’s face gave you a large burst of optimism.
“Just as smart as I’ve read you to be, the great Uchiha Y/N. You’ve already read everyone’s Chakra signatures beforehand to be prepared in case of battle. What a brilliantly tactical move, as expected from your caliber.” You looked back towards the pale man with the long black hair, your anger growing again before you narrowed your eyes at the younger Senju brother.
“Tobirama,” your voice was calm but extremely firm, “I thought I told you never to use this Jutsu. I also recall telling you that this should never be documented. For this exact reason,” you emphasized. You created the Reanimation Jutsu. It was something you made in a dark time of your life that still hurt you to think about.
It was lovely in your ancestral Uchiha home, passed down from your family for as long as they could remember. It was the same house you lived in with your husband. You enjoyed the happiness that you felt every day, until it felt like it just started to go down from there. Your clan always at war with the Senju clan, the death of your brother-in-law that started your husband’s spiral, your husband’s defection from the village, and ultimately, his death. It broke you in more ways than you could explain.
When the Senju brothers came to your home to tell you of your husband’s death, you almost collapsed on the spot in grief and rage. The younger brother starts your husband’s path of revenge by killing your brother-in-law, and the older brother ends it along with your beloved husband’s life. They had officially taken everything from you.
It took a lot of time, and a lot of understanding, but you learned not to blame the Senju brothers for what had happened to Izuna and Madara. It hurt you every single day, but you just learned to live with it, burying yourself in your work and missions to compensate. It was on one of these days where you were working on a new Jutsu that you invented when Tobirama offered to join and help if you taught it to him. You allowed him as he did not ask you any questions, simply offering his presence in your mourning, never questioning your judgement or your decisions.
When you believed the Jutsu to be complete, you could tell immediately that it was not something that should be used. It was cruel in nature and you ultimately felt that it went against your morals and also the way of an honorable Kunoichi. It was a Jutsu that would not let the dead lay in final rest, instead waking them up in a cold and shrewd manner, letting the caster control the freedom of those that have crossed over to another world. It was unnatural, wrong.
You were desperate to bring back your husband, and you were willing to try anything. But this, you remember thinking as you saw your Jutsu at work, this is not how I want him back. And so, you made Tobirama swear to never record it and let this die with the both of you. Nobody needed to know that something like this was ever possible in this world. Clearly, he didn’t listen.
“I told you that that was a bad idea, Tobirama. Although, it is very good to see you, Y/N.” Hashirama let out a laugh as he patted your shoulder, letting Tobirama continue to sulk behind him as he tried to duck away from your glare, - just as intimidating as the rest of your clan, Tobirama rubbed at his neck.
“I-I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t write down all of it, I made sure I kept it recorded as an incomplete Jutsu just for good measure. I completely removed a few of the sections that took me weeks to figure out. With what was left in the scrolls, nobody should’ve been able to correctly perform it.” Tobirama tried to alleviate his mistake but the pale one spoke again, drawing your eyes to him.
“It was not a hard Jutsu to make sense of, Lord Second.” He smiled in a way that put you on edge, like he was someone to always be wary of. You let it go for now, knowing you couldn’t do anything about it at this moment, and instead embraced Hashirama.
“No point dwelling on it now. It is good to see you, old friend. You as well, Tobirama,” you called out to the younger Senju who gave you a small smile. “Hiruzen, you’ve aged,” you jested as the man you knew to be the admirable Third Hokage let out a laugh.
“And you are just as beautiful as ever, Lady Y/N.” You gave him a gentle smile before turning to regard the man with the blonde hair and the blue eyes. He was new, a man you did not recognize, and yet you could see the trustworthiness in his eyes. He was a good man, you could tell. Not an ounce of malevolence in his Chakra at all.
“I apologize, but I do not recognize you.” You gave him the room to introduce himself.
“Ah!” The man exclaimed before turning around and pointing to the letters on his coat, “I am the Fourth Hokage, Lady Y/N. My name is Namikaze Minato, an honor to meet the Queen of the Uchiha clan in person.” He was a gentle soul. You smiled at him, giving him a gentle bow of your head to show you respected him. He seems like he made an honorable Hokage.
“Eh?!” You all turned your head to see a woman with bright red hair looking at you in shock. A woman of the Uzumaki clan, you assumed from her red-hot hair and her large levels of Chakra. “What do you mean the ‘Queen of the Uchiha clan’?!”
“She’s the legendary Kunoichi, Uchiha Y/N! How can you not tell, Karin?” It was another boy with white hair and sharp teeth that spoke. From Kirigakure, you could tell by his unique features.
“Suigestu is correct, Karin. And another very important fact: She is Uchiha Madara’s wife. Hence the title of Queen.” The Uchiha boy spoke.
“Wait, if you’re the Fourth,” Hashirama started, “then who’s the Fifth Hokage?”
“It’s your granddaughter, Princess Tsunade,” the pale one replied, making you huff out a laugh as Hashirama started sweating. You had good memories of that sweet girl. She was still extremely young at the time of yours and Tobirama’s passing, - far too young to probably have any recollection of you. However, you still appreciated the Senju brothers for treating you like family, and you’ve never forgotten the first moment you held Tsunade as Hashirama asked you to be her godmother. It was a title you took great pride in.
“Tsuna, huh?” Hashirama looked at you sheepishly as you chuckled. “She was my first grandchild, and she was Y/N’s goddaughter. So we both spoiled her rotten. She even picked up my gambling habit, hahahahaha!” You and Tobirama shook your head at the older Senju.
“Alright,” you called out, “enough for now. I have only two things to ask of you.” You took another step forward before pointing to the Uchiha in front of you. “Firstly, who is this boy?” You then dropped your hand back down before addressing everyone. “And secondly, why have you resurrected us?”
“I am Orochimaru, I am the one who resurrected all of you. This boy,” the pale one spoke as he referred to the Uchiha in front of you, “is Uchiha Sasuke. And he has a few questions for all of you.”
“Is that you, Sasuke?” Hiruzen took a step forward. So he’s from Hiruzen’s time, you figured it was during his second time as Hokage as he had quickly filled you in. He seemed extremely young, this Sasuke. You didn’t dwell on it too long when the boy started to ask you and the others questions about being a Shinobi, about being a part of a clan, a part of a village.
You narrowed your eyes at him. He’s seen a lot, and he’s been troubled by a lot. It’s obvious in not only the exhaustion in his eyes but also in the Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan you see glowing, - this boy has suffered his whole life. You knew he wanted answers from not just the Hokages but also from you, because as he spoke he maintained clear eye contact with you the entire time. His gaze pleaded for reason, something to hear that would just make sense. For now though, you would let the past leaders of Konoha speak their pieces, - nobody can doubt their experience in these matters.
“Can we please hurry this up? The Fourth Shinobi War is going on and we do not have a lot of time. The sooner you answer Sasuke’s questions the sooner we can be on the move,” Orochimaru stepped up, making Tobirama lose his calm. As quick as always to anger…
“Why are we here answering meaningless questions when we are needed on the battlefield?!” He always needed Hashirama to keep him in check. And he still does, you mused as you watched him finally step away from the wall after a word from his older brother.
“Always conflict no matter what the era,” Hashirama sighed as you gave him an understanding smile. You gave a look back to the group.
“Which nations are fighting this war?” Everyone knew that you and Tobirama perished in the First Shinobi War, and while you were still reeling from the fact that three more happened after it, you also wanted to know the seriousness of it as well as its threat to the Land of Fire and Konohagakure.
“Actually, Lady Y/N…” Orochimaru seemed to hesitate, and he absolutely refused to look you in the eyes. You narrowed your eyes at him before moving them to the young Uchiha who held your gaze instead of cowering.
“Sasuke, tell me what is going on. Now,” you demanded. Sasuke let out a sigh before staring at you for a moment. He spoke calmly, but the news that he delivered was enough to make anyone cower in fear. Not you, though.
“Uchiha Madara,” Sasuke started, “has been revived by the Reanimation Jutsu, and he is currently trying to place the entire world under a Genjutsu of unimaginable magnitude.”
“Why?” Your question was a simple one. “Why is he trying to do this?”
“Uchiha Madara did not, in fact, die during his battle with Lord First.” Orochimaru spoke again. “Instead, he was seriously injured, and lived till the end of his days in hiding. He has had years to plan this battle.”
You looked at him in shock. All this time, he had been alive? Living in hiding? He was alone all this time. You looked down in sadness. We were supposed to grow old and grey together, and yet I die soon and he spends all his years by himself. All your time alive you were grieving what you thought to be the loss of your husband, lashing out and destroying, when instead you could have spent your time with him had you known.
You felt a hand on your shoulder, it was Hiruzen, a man who knew how your mind worked. “There was no way you could have known, my Lady.”
“He has waged a war against all five of the nations. They have come together to form the Shinobi Alliance and now try to fight together against Madara as we speak. He does all of this, for you, my Lady.” You looked at Orochimaru again before looking to Sasuke as if asking if it was true. Sasuke gave you a nod.
“Madara says that he wants to end all wars and all bloodshed. He calls his Genjutsu the Infinite Tsukuyomi, - to put the entire world in a permanent dream state. He is a man that grows angrier and more desperate. He misses you,” Orochimaru said. “And he’s willing to destroy the world for it.”
“His rage is from Y/N’s death in the First Shinobi War,” Hashirama figured out. “Since then, there have been two more that he has observed and so, this fourth one will be Madara’s supposed war to end all wars.”
“The Infinite Tsukuyomi is Madara’s plan to create a world of his own with only love and peace and happiness, as he explained it. He feels rage at the thought of a war being the reason that he lost his brother and then his wife. He believes he can create a better world this way, where everybody can have their own world within consisting of what makes them happiest.” Orochimaru’s explanation was brief and to the point. “His turning point was hearing of your death while he was in hiding, my Lady.”
You put a hand on each of the Senju brothers’ shoulders as you looked back at the boy you’ve come to know as Sasuke. “Alright, let’s tell him what he wants to know. I believe the sooner we explain, the sooner we can help in the frontlines,” you urged the Hokages to sit down beside you. “And the sooner I can see my husband,” you finished off with a smile, making everyone give you an exhausted look. You and Madara were always a love-sick couple, known by those who lived in your time and those who read about you in scrolls and records.
“Alright, we understand what it is you ask us of, young one.” Hashirama always made people feel open to speak their mind. “You want to know about what it means to be a Shinobi? A part of a clan? A part of a village? We’ll tell you.”
You listened quietly as Hiruzen and the two Senjus explained the village’s history to Sasuke, and you watched the changes in Sasuke’s expressions. It also gave you a chance to listen to what has happened since your own passing as well. The stories you heard made you sad. Uchiha Itachi, the man who sacrificed his family and his life for Konohagakure. For Konohagakure and for his little brother. An admirable Shinobi, you agreed. As was the Fourth Hokage and his own wife, giving their lives for the village.
It hurt to know that the boy you saw in front of you was the last of your clan, - an entire bloodline just wiped out. But you respected Itachi for doing the work nobody else was willing to do. He took the fall for the Elders of the village that were too cowardly to even admit to their own actions and decisions. In a way, Itachi reminded you of Madara, willing to sacrifice for his younger brother. Always protecting him, making sure he was safe within the village, helping him grow stronger, trying to lead him on the right path.
You continued to simply listen as Hashirama and Tobirama told Sasuke of the history between the Uchiha and the Senju. He spoke of your husband with the same fondness in his heart that he held for him all those years ago. But when the Hokages were finished, Sasuke sat in silence. He then slowly stood, letting out a sigh before looking at you.
“And what of you, Lady Y/N? You are the only one who has not yet spoken a word to me. I want to hear your opinion.” Sasuke spoke plainly.
“I have seen you listen intently to the opinions of honorable Hokages through the generations.” You spoke as you also started to stand, “What would you do with mine? I was a Kunoichi of Konoha, and I was a wife to a loving man,” you stated with pride making the two you now knew by the names of Karin and Suigetsu in the back of the room look at you with shock. “My experiences are limited to my life, not to the ones of others. I do not see what you would benefit from hearing my thoughts in this situation.”
“You are an Uchiha from legend, from stories that I would hear from my brother very often. You understand love, happiness, the feeling of contentment. You understand desperation, anger, grief, the loss of a loved one. You must have felt pain like mine when you heard of your husband’s death, especially when it came at the hands of Lord First. I want to know what made you stay. Like my brother, you’ve given for the village in blood, and yet you stayed loyal to the very same village until your dying breath. You are drastically stronger than me. You could beat me even without using either of your hands, which means you had the ability to bring the village down if you really wanted to, but you didn’t do it.” You looked at him with a gentle smile before walking up to him and placing a hand on his cheek. He simply stayed staring into your eyes, now black as his without the Sharingan.
“My husband is angry, - broken, hurt. He has lost much in his life. This village has brought me happiness. Hashirama and Tobirama are people I consider my closest friends, and Sarutobi was a brilliant student. All of these make up a village and a Shinobi. Love, bonds, sacrifice, dedication. My husband felt all of these up until he felt like he was cast away by them.” You gently spoke. “I felt the support of my bonds when I was at my lowest, grieving and in rage at Madara being gone.” You turned to look at your friends. “Hashirama and Tobirama may have fought against my husband, but they stood by me when I was alone. I have fought for this village and given it everything that I have. I am nothing without it. But even if I could go back, I would not change that. I found the love of my life in Konoha, and I was able to marry him and lead a happy life until his death. Or rather, what I thought to be his death. I also remember thinking about how I was protecting him with every mission I would take on, no matter how little. Madara has always watched over me, always kept me safe, and it made me happy that by keeping Konoha safe, I was keeping my beloved safe as well, whether or not he ever really needed my protection,” you finished off with a nostalgic laugh.
Sasuke stared at you for a few moments, before suddenly, for the first time since seeing him a couple of hours ago, you saw him give you a small smile. It was heartwarming to see, especially when he looked like the kind of person who rarely smiles. It showed you he understood your words. He could relate. He understood keeping someone’s legacy alive in your heart. He could see it. You knew he could.
“I won’t let what Itachi stood for go to waste. I won’t let Konoha waste away. We’re going to the battlefield.” Sasuke’s eyes shone with determination. A determined and motivated Uchiha is as dangerous to his opponent as he is unstoppable, you knew, and you were proud of this young boy who has learned to work through his conflicts. Your clan was known for burying their emotions deep down as an act of what they thought to be concealing their weaknesses. However in reality, they only make themselves weaker, instead. They forget that their Sharingans are a window into their heart. It reflects the soul and that is how it is not only awakened, but also grown into higher levels, - even the Eternal Mangekyou. They forget what their eyes represent once they awaken their full potential.
“Now we’re talking!” Hashirama was excited. And as you all jumped through the air, you heard him again. “It may sound odd, but I am excited to see my old friend!” Tobirama sighed at his older brothers words while you smiled back at him.
“I understand. It has been decades since I’ve seen my love. I miss him,” you said with a fond smile while the one you’ve come to know as Suigetsu looked at you like you were crazy.
“Forgive me, Lady Y/N, but you talk about him like you guys are love-sick puppies at the Ninja Academy!” Suigetsu let out a breath in absolute disbelief while Tobirama chuckled.
“Madara may be dangerous, and he may be frightening to most. However, seeing him interact with Y/N puts him in a rare perspective that not many have witnessed first hand. This is something even I cannot deny.” Suigetsu shook his head at the Second Hokage’s words and decided that he wouldn’t get it, ever.
Meanwhile, Naruto was letting Sakura heal him when he saw two people land right in front of him. He let out a gasp as he saw his father and a woman. He couldn’t help but stare at her. She was gorgeous, - black hair, black eyes, dressed like a true warrior, proudly wearing the Uchiha symbol- wait what?
He stared in shock as she shared a laugh with his father. “Not bad, Lord Fourth, but I think I beat you by just that little second!” And he couldn’t believe his eyes at his father poking fun back at her.
“Ah, I must be getting old, my Lady.” What?! ‘My Lady?!’ Naruto stayed looking back and forth at the two interacting until his father turned around to regard him. “Naruto! Hope we’re not too late!”
“Nevermind that, Dad! Who is this? Why is she wearing the Uchiha symbol? Is there another Uchiha person alive?! Again?! Why’re you being so formal with her!?!” Naruto’s mind was going faster than his mouth could keep up and it took Sakura giving him a solid knock on the head to make him stop.
“Geez, Naruto! That’s Uchiha Y/N,” she explained as she continued healing him. “She’s known as the Queen of the Uchiha clan, she’s from way before your dad was Hokage. She’s Uchiha Madara’s wife!” That made Naruto freak out again. Why was Sakura so calm about this? Wasn’t Madara’s wife a bad factor to add to this war? Madara was bad enough as it is, and he didn’t want to know what fighting the woman called the Queen of the Uchiha clan would also entail.
“This is why you pay attention during Iruka Sensei’s lectures,” Sakura sighed out before explaining yours and Madara’s past to Naruto as quickly as she could.
As Naruto listened to the end of Sakura’s explanation, he saw the Third Hokage land carefully on his feet. “You’re both as fast as ever, Minato, Lady Y/N.” He then saw who he knew to be the Senju brothers Hashirama and Tobirama also land.
“We never could beat you, Y/N!” Hashirama laughed out as he stood next to his younger brother. Naruto then froze as Y/N turned to regard him, giving him one of the kindest smiles he’s ever seen directed at him in his life, and he knew that that kind of genuineness cannot be faked. You were trustworthy.
“Don’t worry,” you spoke, “your friend is also on his way.” And Naruto closed his eyes. Sasuke. He must have something to do with your reanimation, he knew.
“Hey, um, big sister Y/N?” Naruto called out, making you look at him in shock, a familiar warmth curling into your chest. Nobody had called you that since Izuna, and it brought an involuntary smile to your lips. You gave a nod to encourage him to continue. “Not that I’m doubting you or anything, big sister, but uh, how exactly do you plan on stopping your extremely crazy and concerningly bloodthirsty husband?” You let out a loud laugh at his words while his father panicked at the way he was addressing Madara in front of you. This kid has no filter - doesn’t even know what a filter is - , and you absolutely loved it. He spoke to you as honestly as if you were really his big sister and it made you adore him. If this was Sasuke’s closest friend, then he has chosen well, they are both perfectly balanced halves, like Yin and Yang.
“You have a lovely son, Lord Fourth.” You told a worried Minato before turning back to the blond kid in front of you. “And Naruto, your father told me you wanted to become Hokage. I think- No, I know you will succeed. You have good friends,” you said as you looked around, “and you have a good heart. Not even the sky is your limit, Ninja of Konoha.”
You can tell this kid wears his heart on his sleeve, and so you could have anticipated the hug. What you couldn’t have anticipated was for him to run forward and squeeze whatever temporary life was flowing through you out of your lungs in his hug. Now this was one life-changing hug.
“What on earth did I miss?” You turned to see Sasuke staring at you in amazement. It seems you were a bit of a crowd favourite already, - all of his past comrades from Konoha were gathered around you, looking at you in awe or wonder, sometimes both. He assumes someone, most probably Sakura, must have explained your past and your goals. The initial reaction to hearing your lengthy title and name is always fear, until they have a conversation with you.
“Sasuke!” Sakura shouting out his name had you a little surprised, but as you watched their exchange you could see that the Kunoichi was enamored with him. You left Sasuke and Naruto to their conversation with their friends while you walked over to your own, quickly gauging the battlefield and all of the warriors, - it was an absolute mess. A man by the name of Hatake Kakashi was quick to bring you and the Hokages up to speed on everything that’s happened, including the involvement of another Uchiha by the name of Obito, Lord Fourth’s student.
“As far as I know, however, Obito’s actions are influenced by Madara,” Kakashi explained as he recalled to you and the others what Obito had told him of his survival in a past accident.
“I’m going to go towards the back, I want a larger view of this mess. Just give me a few moments,” you said as you jumped away. Hashirama gave you a quick thumbs up to acknowledge your words as they continued to listen to Kakashi’s information, - the Senju brothers have seen you do this often.
You could see well from your initial spot, but the terrain was uneven and you always worked better once you got a full view of your surroundings with your Sharingan. It gave you better mobility and helped you avoid any hesitation during combat. If you always knew where to step and what direction to move in, you didn’t even have to take your eyes off of the enemy.
This was actually a tactic that you also showed your husband during one of your sparring sessions together. You both would always choose new locations and alternate in memorizing the location. If it was Madara’s turn, you wouldn’t memorize that day’s terrain choice, and vice versa. This helped you both see the difference in combat efficiency. Perhaps that has been far too effective against the Shinobi Alliance, you thought sheepishly as you recalled Kakashi’s words of always seeing Madara have the higher ground in confrontations, looking down on everyone.
As you were letting your eyes memorize the terrain, your heart stopped at a yell you heard. It’s been decades since you’ve heard that voice. And to hear it again in person instead of in your dreams was a breathtaking feeling that you simply could not define, even if it wasn’t directed at you, specifically.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Hashirama!” He called out, and you heard the excitement in his voice. It brought a smile to your face, - those two were always inseparable, it’s nice to see even that cannot change.
Meanwhile, Hashirama looked up to see Madara staring down at him with anticipation. He let out a sigh, is this the time she chooses to disappear? Tobirama, as if reading his brother’s mind, also sighed out. Your timing is impeccable, Y/N.
Where is that woman when you need her? The Senju brothers were really trying to avoid a full out battle with Madara at this point when it was so unnecessary.
Hashirama pointed his finger at Madara as he called out, “I’ll deal with you later!” And the older Senju brother watched as Madara visibly deflated a little in disappointment before patiently sitting down, shaking his head as he did. Some things never change. Hashirama then turned around, pointing his finger at the Ten-Tailed Beast, “First, I have to stop the Ten-Tails, because it’s charging right at us!”
“Where the hell did big sister go?!” Naruto was absolutely stressed knowing the one person who could help stop this now was not here for some godforsaken reason. “She’s the only person who’s going to have any actual effect on Uchiha Madara and she’s just gone?!”
“Stay calm, Naruto,” Minato spoke calmly, “we just have to keep the Ten-Tails occupied. Once she returns we’ll have the extra power and also the weapon to reason with Madara.” He then turned and gave a smile to his son and his son’s friends. “Don’t worry. If she is anything like what I’ve read about her, then Uchiha Madara will listen. So far, she has more than proven herself, and I have faith that she can help. I have also heard from the First and Second Hokages that she is the only human whose opinion and emotions Madara genuinely values.”
“Now, everyone!” Tobirama spoke, “Just hold off until she returns! Keep the Ten-Tails at bay, and do not risk yourself in attempting to counter any of its moves. We simply hold it off for as long as needed!”
Sasuke and Naruto were already off atop their summonings as Sakura stayed behind with her own summoning to heal those that were injured in the area. The rest of their comrades also dispersed to help contain the situation while Madara simply sat atop the cliff, observing their movements. He didn’t bother listening to whatever they discussed, dismissing it as futile attempts to strategize. Naturally, it would fail against me, Madara scoffed out a quiet laugh.
Hashirama thought this would be a good time for him and his fellow Hokages to go and have some semblance of a civil conversation with his old friend while they kept the situation at bay. “Madara!” He called out as him and his comrades landed on the cliff top behind the seated Uchiha.
“Oh? Ready to face me now, Hashirama?” Madara could feel his blood pumping. He’s been dying for a rematch with the Senju man.
“Actually, I wanted to talk. My friend, there is nothing to gain from this.” Hashirama hoped he’d see reason.
“There is everything to gain from this.” Madara countered his friend easily. “In the Infinite Tsukuyomi, there will be happiness. There will be peace. Everyone can love and be loved. How is this reality better than what I am offering?” Madara’s mind was clear.
“It would all still be a fake reality, Madara. None of your experiences would be real. The peace wouldn’t be real. The love wouldn’t be genuine. The happiness? It would be fake!” Hashirama wanted to get through somehow.
Madara was getting frustrated. “At least there would be happiness! At least there would be something worth living for within the Tsukuyomi.”
“There are reasons worth living for in the real world. You fight for them, and you hold on to it. That’s what makes it worth the suffering. There is happiness and love awaiting everyone in this world, Madara, and I thought you would understand that better than anyone else! Everyone that has walked this earth was given something worth living for, and it kept them going till the end of their days. Everyone deserves to experience the real world as it is with all of its ups and downs. That’s what makes it genuine. That’s what gives life value.” Hashirama hoped his friend would understand.
“I had a reason. I had love, happiness. I had it…” Madara looked down for a moment before looking back up again, eyes full of red-hot rage. “And she was taken from me!” He began shouting. “You took her from me! All of you!” He pointed at them, “You took my one happiness and my one love! First, I was separated from her and then you made sure she wasn’t even in the same plane of existence as me! She died fighting for these real experiences of yours. Anything in this world, including these values you preach about, Hashirama, are absolutely worthless without her. She was my only reason. The only one!” The Uchiha took a deep breath, “I refuse to live in any world or any reality without my wife, never again. And any world that has hurt my wife should simply not exist.” He activated his Susano’o, getting ready to fight, - he wouldn’t hear another word of this. He would not listen to another word defending this monstrosity of a world that took his beloved wife from him. His soulmate.
“Are you happy, elder brother?” Tobirama took a few steps back, “Now you’ve made him angry. The whole point of this was to stall him!”
“I know, Tobirama!” Hashirama let out a quiet curse as he prepared his hands for a countering Jutsu.
“Clearly you don’t know. He doesn’t seem to be very stalled from your tactics, elder brother!” Tobirama couldn’t stop the sarcasm that came flying out of his mouth in his current stress.
“Tobirama, now is absolutely not the time for this!” Hashirama backed away some more as Madara’s Susano’o pulled its sword out of the sheath and got into an offensive stance.
They didn’t think a conversation about love and happiness could go so bad so quickly. But then again, they should have anticipated it considering who it was they were having this conversation with.
Nobody loves as intensely as an Uchiha, Hashirama remembered saying to Sasuke. And no Uchiha has loved or will love as intensely as Uchiha Madara loves his wife. He’ll burn the world and bring her the ashes.
The Hokages braced themselves as Madara’s Susano’o charged forward, sword raised and about to come down for the strike, when suddenly, their surroundings went deathly quiet.
The Hokages breathed out a sigh of quick relief. Tobirama huffed, “By the Gods, Y/N! You couldn’t have cut it any closer if you tried!”
You don’t spare a glance back at the Hokages, though, simply keeping your eyes in front of you. You couldn’t help the smile building on your lips as you saw your husband. He was just as handsome as the last day you saw him, - with his Sharingan and his long hair and his eyes full of love for you. He always managed to make you feel loved. He was doing all of this, for you. Of course, it was questionable, but he was doing it for you. “My love,” you started, hearing yourself choking up. You couldn’t finish your sentence as you saw the shock finally leave your husband.
Madara couldn’t believe his eyes. His wife was here, in front of him, reanimated. He never thought he would see her again, and if he was ever reunited with her in the afterlife, it’s not like they would have any recollection of that in the present living moment, either. And so to see her now, he could do nothing but thank every entity he could think of that she created this Jutsu, regardless of the circumstances in which she did. He was not by her side in her dying breath and she wasn’t there with him as he grew old and frail, - the biggest regrets that Madara can think of from his time alive. “Y/N.” He released his Susano’o, taking long strides towards his wife.
You simply stood in place, still taking him in. You watched his large frame as he walked towards you, and you felt your breath leave you at the intensity with which he grabbed you. He held you close, a hand around your shoulders and another over the back of your head, as if trying to make sure you couldn’t go anywhere. You reached and wrapped arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest and letting a sob finally wrack through your body, finally feeling safe and like you belonged. You finally felt like you could let go and the one person your trusted would be there to catch you, - the only person you’ve ever trusted with your soul, and the only person you will ever trust.
“Y/N,” you closed your eyes as you heard your name fall from his lips, “my Y/N.” His words felt like velvet on your skin and like a melody through your ears.
“Madara,” you breathed out, making the Uchiha man let out a hum. He had been aching to hear your voice for decades. It had been so long since he’d heard you call out his name and to hear it again made him want to break down right there. “You left me,” he heard you whisper. You sounded so upset, and he felt his heart ache and fall apart all over again. Such simple words, but so strong in their meaning. “You left me alone.”
“My darling wife,” he gripped you tighter. “I am so, so sorry. I have no excuse for my actions. I was blind and a fool to have ever thought to leave you, because that is all one must be to ever think to let go of you,” he stated honestly. These were words from his core, ones he has never spoken aloud until now but has always had running in his head. He meant every bit of it. “I was… blinded. Blinded by the hate I felt, the need to avenge Izuna… All of it came to head at some point that I struggle to even remember now. And when I heard of your death, I lost all reason. All I could think of was the ways in which I could’ve kept you safe. I thought the only way to do so now would be to create a new world. A world in which we could be together again, a world in which you couldn’t get hurt. And you would never be hurt because this world would be ours to command as we so wished.” You sighed out gently before pulling away to cup his face in your hands. You gave your husband a smile, leaning to kiss his lips for a moment before resting your forehead against his.
“You never let your soul rest, even in death.” You sighed and you pressed your lips to his cheek. “My husband, my love.” You heard him hum gently. “All I ever needed was you. I don’t need the world because that is what you are to me. You are my world- No, my universe.”
Madara pulled away to look into your eyes, and you saw a vulnerable man right then, - the same one that had always bore his emotions freely to you and only you. He always let you see into his heart. And now, you saw a man who had mourned for his wife for decades. “You never did find peace, even in death. And it was my fault. If it weren’t for that, we could’ve been together all this time. I’m so sorry,” you said softly as you planted another kiss on his lips, “I’m so sorry for causing you so much pain,” you continued apologizing as Madara shook his head at you, a tear of his own falling.
“No,” he stopped you, grabbing your head with both hands to place a kiss on your forehead. “Never tell me it is your fault. I will not accept it. I chose this path, Y/N. I chose to stay in this world. I was blinded by rage and did not see what could have been - you and me, finally together, in eternity. Without restraints.” He held you close again, wrapping his arms around you as he tight as he could, and you did the same.
Naruto watched from a little further away, jaw on the floor, - not too different from the rest of the Shinobi that were present. He turned to Sasuke who was also unable to look away from the scene that seemed to come straight from a fever dream.
“Oi, Sasuke,” he nudged his friend, “Is this all we needed to do? We assembled the entire Shinobi world, formed an alliance, and suffered an unimaginable amount of casualties. All we needed to do,” he paused again, “this whole time, was get her?!” Sasuke’s eyes flashed at his extremely oblivious and extremely loud friend at both the noise level of his sentence and his way of addressing the Queen of the Uchiha clan. He tried to get him to stop when he saw Madara’s head whip around to regard the person who had addressed his wife so brazenly. Too late, Sasuke clenched his jaw.
It took Sasuke every bit of Chakra, - and the full extent of his Sharingan’s abilities, - to move as fast as he did in that moment, stepping in front of Naruto and summoning an arm of his Susano’o to block Madara’s fast approach towards the Uzumaki boy. Naruto let out a small scream as he stumbled back a bit, watching with fear in his eyes as Madara’s raging Sharingan stared into his very soul.
“Idiot,” Sasuke quietly bit out, “is there a single day where you paid attention at the Academy?”
“H-huh?” Naruto turned his head towards Sasuke but his eyes stayed watching the past head of the Uchiha clan that hasn’t backed down just yet. Or gotten far enough away for me to feel comfortable, Naruto thought to himself as he watched warily.
“You will address her, with the amount of respect that she deserves,” Madara ground out. “That woman is Uchiha Y/N. She is Queen of the Uchiha Clan, the Strongest Kunoichi in the Land of Fire, and my wife.”
“He did not know,” Sasuke ground out. The young Uchiha was at his wit’s end. Uchiha Madara was strict when it came to people respecting the Queen of the Uchiha clan. He demanded respect of everyone whether they were directly or indirectly addressing or mentioning her. It irked him that even Tobirama was as casual as he was with her. As far as Madara was concerned, the only person who could address Uchiha Y/N lovingly and without titles was him. “Everyone else would slander her name for they do not understand her worth,” Madara had once said. “They do not see the diamond that she is and I will make sure that they at least recognize that she is a treasure.”
“Madara,” you chastised as you walked towards him. “He’s a sweet boy, he means no harm. He doesn’t need to call me by my title because of who I once was. There are only two titles that have come with me past my life - Kunoichi of Konohagakure, and wife to an honorable man. That is all. Just a Kunoichi, and just a wife.” You spoke as wrapped your arms around his waist and placed your head on his chest. You felt your husband wrap his arms around you again and felt as he began to slowly relax. “There will be those stronger than me.”
“Not in my heart. I know you are the strongest there will ever be.” You let out a little laugh as you heard the stubbornness in your husband’s voice.
“I adore you,” you spoke to him with a smile, “But I am not too upset by what future awaits our clan.” You placed a hand on his cheek before turning to look at Sasuke. “He is a strong boy, with an honorable heart. Named after Hiruzen’s father. And while I believe you to always be the head of the clan in my heart,” you heard your husband let out a light laugh, “Sasuke will be a good leader.” The young boy gently bowed his head at you. “And I believe it will not be long before there are new heirs to the Uchiha clan, and the bloodline is restored,” you spoke with a grin.
Sasuke’s eyes slightly widened at you, before he quickly turned his head away and to the side. “Hn.” The noise he made caused you to let out a small laugh. A typical response from an Uchiha in a moment of speechlessness. And no matter how hard he tried, Sasuke would never be able to hide the pink in his cheeks from you.
“The clan is in capable hands,” you spoke as you turned and found Tsunade standing next to her grandfather and great uncle, “and so is the village, it seems.” Tsunade smiled at you, and you saw vague recognition in her eyes.
“I don’t remember you well, but I grew up hearing stories of you and how you were always by my side while you were alive. I’m proud to have such an amazing Kunoichi as my godmother.” You smiled at her and laid your head on your husband’s chest, feeling him bring a hand up to hold the back of your neck.
“Indeed, I must admit that the village is in respectable hands. She is… a strong woman.” Tsunade seemed shocked to hear words of praise coming from Madara’s mouth, but she was happy to hear it, regardless. She has certainly inherited Hashirama’s Will of Fire, Madara has only seen it so strong in his wife’s eyes until now. And she probably did inherit it from her godmother, Madara’s pride would not allow him to give Hashirama credit for something over his beloved.
You turned back to your husband, taking in a deep breath. “Well, my love? Shall we?” You saw Madara let out a long sigh before tightening his arms around you.
“Perhaps we are done here. I trust you lot can handle Obito?” Hatake Kakashi and his team nodded at Madara’s question. “Good,” your husband hummed. “I think I have some catching up to do with my wife. So much time lost… ” He ran a hand across your cheek.
You smiled, “Luckily, we have eternity to make it up.” You reached up and he met you halfway as he bent his neck, both of you joining your lips together in a kiss. The Senju brothers looked over at Orochimaru and gave him a nod to go ahead with releasing the Reanimation, and he did so quietly.
You could vaguely hear Naruto saying goodbye to his father. You could also make out the voices of the other Hokages talking to their own loved ones, giving them parting words of advice, confidence, pride, and love, - all of which you let fade into the background, focusing solely on your husband in front of you. You had him now, and you absolutely will not let go. You pressed your lips harder against his and felt as he let out a small moan, gripping you tighter to him. You would make sure that this next time you woke again in the after-life, he would be right beside you. You both can finally move on, together and in peace, having nothing to concern yourself with except each other. No war, no conflict, no clans, no rivalry, just a husband and wife finally being able to reach paradise together.
“Together, this time,” you spoke against his lips, feeling your body starting to fade.
“Together,” Madara whispered back to you.
And when you both opened your eyes again in the afterlife, you were still holding on to each other. Nothing would separate you two anymore, you wouldn’t let the forces of the universe get between the two of you anymore. Never again…
————————————————————
Hello and welcome to my blog, everyone! I’m so excited to finally get this first post out. I can’t wait to get more stories out, and I hope you guys enjoy this and any more that’ll come in the future! Thank you guys for reading all of it!
Any similarities to any other posts are purely coincidental and not intentional. Thank you all so very much~
#madara x reader#madara x oc#uchiha madara x reader#uchiha x reader#uchiha madara#madara uchiha#madara uchiha x reader#madara fanfiction#madara imagines#uchiha clan#naruto madara#naruto uchiha#naruto#naruto universe#naruto anime#naruto team 7#naruto shippuden#naruto fanfiction#naruto fic#naruto fluff#naruto imagines#naruto scenarios#naruto shippuden fanfiction#naruto shippuden headcanons#fluff#fluff smut#fluff and angst#marriage au#married au#established relationship
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𝐅𝐈𝐗 𝐌𝐄
DAY 2: SUB SPACE + MOMMY KINK
With: Satoru Gojo
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: Sub! Gojo, Fem? reader (no pronouns just use of names: mommy and mama), unreleastic portrayal of sub space, mentions of BDSM (rough treatment, degradation,whips, mistress/master use), safeword use (at the end), lots of cooing, Gojo unable to think properly, praise, comfort, clingy/needy Gojo
A/N: this was actually really fun to write! i did a little research on what subspace feels like, and it says it varies from person to person, but it is a sort of euphoric experience. sooo idk! lol. also, a lot of ppl r here for gojos personality, and I feel bad bc he is not like his usual self in this bc of his headspace...dont hate me gojo simps
Gojo Satoru is kinky. Plain and simple. He has tried many different things throughout his lifetime, and he is now confident enough in many different types of sexual play. He spends way too much time on the internet buying all sorts of toys, cuffs, ropes, whips, just to build his secret obsession. He has been with many people, and has always pulled them down to the dark side with him.
But through it all, he has never found a partner to really push him to his limits. They all get too scared to hurt him, and call their safeword too early. They get uncomfortable when he sobs for mercy, or in other situations, begs for more pain. Gojo doesn't want to be just treated harshly, he wants to be broken. His standards are higher than most.
And finally his dreams came true when he met you. You've been into BDSM for years now, and even if the two of you are dating, you have a strict contract of rules you must obey for eachothers safety. It was cute, he was practically trembling in excitement when he saw the agreement, signing his hame sloppily, and waiting for your next move.
It was strange seeing someone so cheery and upbeat turn into a different breed during a scene. He was long passed the brat now, every defining thought fucked out of him. He's been slapped around, beaten, scolded, forced to orgasm, and humiliated in the past two hours. He has never had anyone treat him this rough.
A huge part of him loved it, and a small part of him twinged in fear whenever he heard you begin to move again. It sent a multitude of thoughts to his brain, What now? Are you going to hurt him? Was he being good now? Another punishment?
His blue eyes follow your every movement, and he flinches when you bring your hand up to his face, expecting another slap. You chuckle at the movement, gently petting his face. It takes him a second to realize what is happening, but from there, he melts into your hold. He presses himself deeper into your hand, eyes heavy from exhaustion.
Satoru accomplished his goal though. He was, for the first time ever, wrecked. His hair is matted against his head, damp from sweat. His body is covered in hickeys, bitemarks, bruises, scratches, and marks from the flogger. He was trembling, muscles contracting every couple of seconds without permission. Drools coats his lips, and it starts to drip down his mouth and onto his chin. His eyes seem to be in a different world, cloudy, and half lidded. His cock lays spent against his thigh, flushed red, and leaking just the last of his cum.
But even through it all, he's smiling at you. It’s a fucked out sort of grin, lazy, but content. His cheek is pressed against your palm, and he's nuzzling into it, basking in the softness of your touch, contrasting your earlier actions. “There ya go. You doing all right, Satoru?”
He blinks at you, slow, and thoughtless. “Yeah.”
You climb onto the bed next to him, brushing his hair back affectionately, and a little worriedly. He looked rather beat, and his exhausted eyes made you want to end the session now. “Alright, lets clean you up, and get you to bed,” You soothe, hands rubbing at his thighs, hoping your touch brings him comfort.
Immediately he pulls away, a small pout on his face. “Noooooo,” He uncharacteristically whines, grabbing at your hand. “Wanna…Wanna go some more. I'm doing good, right Mommy? No more punishments,” He pleads, tears coating his eyes. “Reward. Wanna reward, pleaseeee.”
Mommy wasn't todays title. You were called mistress, and master today solely. His words made your eyes widen, and you instantaneously knew he was deep into the subspace. You've seen glimpses of it, the way he becomes uncharacteristically obedient and he gets slightly giggly, probably from the light headed feeling, but he looked deep into his now. His words dragged out, and his body was obviously spent, but still he craved your approval; he wanted nothing more than to please you now.
Affection, love and care is what he needs right now and you were happy to provide him with it. So, you straddle his lap, and place kisses on every surface you can touch. His body is warm, and he goes slack against your hold, mouth falling open. “Do you want to cum again, ‘toru? Or just attention?”
He goes silent for awhile, his mind hazy, and not liking the idea of making his own choice. He wanted you to take care of him completely, to let his mind slip away, and for you to control his ever thought, movement. “Please,” He mumbles, face scrunching up with frustration.
You are quick to apologize, recognizing his situation almost instantly. “Alright, alright. I'll take care of you. Lets cum one more time, can you do that for me, pretty boy?”
Pretty boy. A nickname unlike the harsh ones he received earlier: brat, slut, dog, whore. In the moment it only increased to turn him on, but now, he wanted to be good. The thought of you calling him those names made him want to tear up, and sob into your arms. He didn't want you to be mean anymore, he wants you to love him. To praise him on anything and everything.
He jumps when he feels your hand drift back to his cock. It aches from all the abuse from earlier, and he lets out a shaky whimper, not liking the pain as much as he once did. “H-Hurts,” He yelps, wishing for you to make it better. To fix it all, why did everything ache so badly? He wants comfort, and as quickly as possible.
You kiss at his tears and pull his face into your neck. “‘m sorry. Was Mommy too rough with you today? Shhh, it’ll feel better in a bit, just relax,” You encourage, beginning to slide your hand up and down his length. He twitches and mewls from beneath you, fighting the feeling of overstimulation and pleasure. He wants this, he wants this, he wants this so badly, but he wishes it wasn't so uncomfortable.
He shakes his head into your neck, “Wasn't too rough. I'm fine, Mama j-just make me feel better, please,” he whispers, voice hoarse, and soft. One of your hands pet his hair, while the other strokes him off, shushing his cries, and reassuring that he will feel better soon.
You were right of course, the pain of overstimulation died off, and Gojo felt like he was melting. Everything is so warm, so light, he feels like he was on cloud nine. He feels loved, and every loose thought was traced back to you. “Love you s-so much.”
You grin at him, pressing your lips to his. His lips are chapped from his excessive panting, but you don't mind, licking at the plush flesh. He whimpers and groans, his hands pawing at you to pull you impossibly closer. When you pull back, he follows you, letting out a small huff in complaint. You pepper his face with kisses in apology. “Love you too. Such a good boy, Satoru, I'm so lucky to have such a pretty boy.”
He withers under the praise, nodding his head dumbly. He wants to coax so more out of you, but he can't think of ways, so he just rest his head on your chest, and chants, “Mommy” on repeat.
Your hand is slow in pace, careful to not overwhelm him. It slides up and down easily, his previous cum acting as lube. His cock is bright red, and you almost feel bad for it after pulling so many orgasms from it earlier. You are suprised he is still even awake, sure, he looks and acts exhausted, but by this long he is usually passed out. He must be awake only because he is searching for praise and comfort from earlier. To not find himself in a sub drop.
You catch his eye, and a wobbly smile pulls at his face. You chuckle at him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Whaddya want from me?” He asks, voice cracking in the middle of the sentence.
“Hmm?”
He taps his forehead against yours, hazy blue eyes staring into yours. “Wanna command. Wanna be useful for you.”
You smile warmly at him and he shivers, leaning up to kiss you again. You hand rubs over his small slit, and he gasps, pausing just centimeteres before you face, and moaning out.
“You are deep in this, aren't you sweet boy?” You murmur, mostly to your self, slightly astonished. It was one thing for him to ask for praise, and to make decisions for him, but actively seeking instructions from you was another. It was fascinating, and adorable to say the least, how desperately he craved approval, or wanted to feel needed, useful. Nothing how Gojo usually was like.
You thumb at his tip, and he heaves, trying to keep up with your words. But everything you say other than “sweet boy,” seems to tuned out. Everything feels blurry, expect for you face, and your sickenly sweet tone. “D-Don't understand. Please!”
“Okay, shhh, it's alright. I want you to cum for me. Can you cum for Mommy, Satoru? That's all I want you to do.” An easy command, one he can definitely fulfill. He can do that – he can definitely cum for you. Gojo feels his chest bloom with butterflies at the idea of what you'll say to him once he follows your wishes. How much praise he will receive. How good and useful he is being. It makes him shiver with excitement.
Your hand picks up speed when he nods, and he gasps, gripping onto your arms from the suddenness. His hips buck upward into the makeshift hole, and you coo at him, telling him to relax his hips. He abides without question, melting into the sheets, and you give him a kiss for a reward.
He feels himself begin to teeter along his high, and he glances up at you, eyes wide and slightly panicked. He needs to ask for approval, he has to ask to cum, the rules were basically engrained in him, but everything is spinning, and he's beginning to feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the pressure. He feels his voice go dry, and tears begin to pool in his eyes at the prospect of disappointing you.
You take notice of his fearful face immediately, quickly leaning over to cup his face. “You can cum. Relax, hey, its alright, I want you to cum.”
He breathes a shaky sign of relief, and you wipe his tears away, thinking back to earlier of how you wiped his tears away from the ruthless pleasure/pain mix, and now simply because he was afraid that he wasn't able to ask permission before cumming. You would be lying if the power didnt get to your head.
You thoughts are cut off when Gojos entire body jerks, and a muffled, “Fuck!” is let out. His orgasm hits him like a truck, and he trembles, riding the waves. His voice is too scratchy to let out any real noise, so he just silently cries into your chest. Cum dribbles down his cock pathetically, obviously spent, and not having much left to give. You don't seem to notice it though, instead focusing on your lover, and trying to make his orgasm as pleasurable as possible.
When he comes down from it, his legs are shaking, and his eyes are hooded with exhaustion. “P-Plea–Coconut,” He weakly gets out, and you hands fly off his body in seconds from hearing the safety word. You pull away, hoping to not overwhelm him, but instead he clings to you. “Don’t go. Don’t go. Mommy, I can't. J-Just–I…Praise!” He splutters, coherent thoughts flying out of his head, as he slumps into the bed.
You nod, staying away from his cock, and instead placing his head into your lap. His body curls around you in seconds, still slightly trembling. “Did so well. Good boy Satoru. My good boy, I am so spoiled. So lucky to have you." You coo, reaching your hand up to run it through his matted hair. "Took everything so well. I'm so proud of you." A small smile pulls at his face, and everything feels so warm "I love you so much, you know that?”
“Hm,” He hums, nodding his head slightly.
You smile at him. “My perfect boy. It's time to go to sleep, I'll take care of everything. Just rest for me, that's all I need you to do.”
But he didn't even hear the last of your statements, already passed out onto you, his chest rising and falling from his heavy breathes.
You sigh, and stare affectionately at the man. His naked body littered in marks, and he still managed to sleep contently with them. His body was drained of everything. Just like he asked you to do so hours prior.
Your hands roam the nightstand, grabbing healing cream, bandages, and a wash cloth. And with one last sigh, you place Gojo's head onto the pillow, and begin the long process of cleaning him up.
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#mello.writes#Barkforme!#Kinktober 2023#dom! reader#dom reader#x reader#reader insert#sub gojo#sub gojo smut#sub gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru#satoru x reader#satoru smut#gojo x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x reader smut#sub! jjk
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Gosh i just loved your Sunday fic.. 😫
Im wondering what about a naive type darling? With so much isolation, it has made darling insecure. Darling thinks Sunday deserves a better woman and just ups and leaves Sunday when he isnt home. But ofc is soon found not long after 😋
ohhhh so personally i imagine this happening after sunday uses the harmony one too many times on poor reader…you never saw it coming, never would have thought sunday would hurt you despite being isolated for so long. any thoughts you had about escaping, even going outside to see friends, are obliterated. sunday becomes your whole world.
Yan!Sunday x Naive!Gn!Reader
You’ve been standing in front of Sunday’s door, fist raised and poised to knock, for twenty minutes now.
For what feels like the millionth time, you lower your hand, worrying your lip.
He’s been in there all day. Sunday is a busy man, his schedule constantly filled with meetings and Family affairs, but never too occupied that he would ignore you for an entire day.
Your mind fears the worst; even those initial days of being drowned in the Harmony, before you realized Sunday was trying to help you adjust to your life with him, is preferable to this. Did you do something wrong? Who is he in there with? Is he ignoring you?
Has he…grown tired of you?
The mere thought chills your heart and fills your veins with ice as you take a step back, inhaling sharply.
The wooden door before you is polished to a fault, bright enough that you can see your faint outline. It bitterly reminds you of how inferior you are compared to him, a mere speck of dust, a fleeting shadow on the wall.
You start to spiral. Surely Sunday, the most handsome and sought after man in Penacony, could have his pick of anyone—so why would he settle on you? Why did he bring you here, trap you in this mansion, keep you by his side, if only to throw you away in the end?
Did he never love you?
Why does that thought hurt you so much?
Heart pounding and tears blurring your vision, you quickly turn and flee, your knock forgotten.
~*~
It has long grown dark on the streets of the Golden Hour.
The normally bustling city is slumbering, the only light provided by the plethora of flashing billboards that never sleep. The few individuals you have passed are either drunks stumbling home or the stray Intellitron. You’ve been walking aimlessly for hours, wiping away tears and fruitlessly searching for a way to escape to reality.
After all your time mulling in your sadness and insecurities, you have come to the conclusion that you should relieve Sunday of his care of you. He’s much better off without you, or rather with a better individual than you. He should be dating royalty, a celebrity, an angel. The type of person who would have knocked on that door, would have strutted confidently into his office and sat directly into his lap to—
Another pair of footsteps echo behind you.
You almost don’t hear them at first, but you most definitely see the haloed shadow on the wall in front of you.
“And where do you think you’re going, (Y/n)?”
You immediately freeze, your breathing becoming erratic and shallow. His voice sends little butterflies pounding against your chest, begging to fly to him.
“Do you really think this pathetic attempt to escape would succeed?” A hand wraps around your waist, spinning you around to meet golden eyes rimmed in violet. You expect them to be filled with anger, perhaps even loathing, but you’re shocked to discover they are brimming with nothing but thinly veiled panic.
His grip tightens when you don’t respond immediately. “Answer me, (Y/n).” His voice cracks as he says your name again. “Where have you been?”
Words clog in your throat. “I—I thought—you were—you didn’t want—”
“I’ve been searching everywhere for you. You weren’t thinking. I believed we had moved beyond your futile attempts to leave, that you understood that you are mine—”
“But what if I don’t deserve to be yours!”
The two of you freeze in the wake of your outburst. His breath hitches as you lower your head and whisper softly, “I thought you stopped loving me the same as I love you.”
For once, you’ve caught Sunday off guard. His beautiful gaze widens in shock as he truly takes in your form—shivering, tears rolling down your cheeks, nails digging into your palms—and realizes his mistake.
You left because you thought he didn’t want you.
The mere idea baffles him. Standing before him is the most beautiful individual he has ever seen. Every fiber of his being screams for him to lock you in a birdcage and throw away the key—you are a precious treasure, meant to sing only for him. He has created you to be the perfect devotee in his very image.
And all of his efforts have succeeded, because you said you loved him.
His anger and fear immediately melt into softness as he holds your face between both hands, his forehead lowered to press against yours. “Oh, darling, no. You cannot fathom the adoration I harbor for you, the multitude of praises I wish to preach each day in your name.”
His voice takes on a nearly holy reverence, but his eyes shine with an untamed desire. “There is nowhere you belong except for by my side. Finding you missing this evening nearly tore my heart out. You must never venture out again, do you understand, my precious dove?”
You sniff and lean into his touch, a smile parting the river of your tears. Yes, that’s right. That’s what the Harmony said before, too: your purpose is to please Sunday, to serve Sunday, to live for Sunday.
Why would you ever doubt his love?
Why would you ever want to leave him? What a silly idea.
You think you feel a tiny pull at the back of your mind, a hook that wants to tether you to reality. But a quick slash of a knife severs the line, leaving you floating in a sea of multicolored bliss.
“I’ll never doubt you again, Sunday. I love you.”
Sunday’s lips curl into a smirk as he lifts your chin and examines the rainbows dancing in your eyes. “I love you, too, (Y/n).”
#yandere sunday#yandere sunday x reader#yandere sunday x you#yandere hsr#yandere honkai star rail#yandere#yandere headcanons#yanderecore#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere x y/n#yandere imagines#yandere male#honkai star rail imagines#honkai x reader#honkai star rail#sunday hsr#hsr sunday#sunday
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Longing
Halsin x Fem!Reader
A/N: I have been burning with an intense CRAVING for Halsin and there is such little fic about him (although there are some good ones out there 👀) so I had to do my part and add to the pool 😏 hope y’all enjoy!
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, reader is insecure about her virginity, talks of inexperience, love confessions, Halsin is a sweetheart, references to NSFW content. Very very minor spoilers for act 2.
Part 2
The fur of the rabbit is soft between your fingers as you prepare it. Yet, despite having a knife in your other hand and your task being a delicate one, you can’t seem to focus.
Your eyes keep drifting back to the druid across camp chopping wood for the fire. The axe is a large one, heavy - heavier than you’d be able to lift. Yet the large elf manages to bring it up above his head and swing it back down with a grace you never understood how he possessed.
The muscles in his shoulders ripple with each movement, accompanying the rythmic thump of the axe through wood. His soft grunts as he pulls it from the stump he’s using before placing the next log onto the surface and starting the process all over again.
“The rabbit is already dead, darling.”
The familiar voice rips you from your staring as your head whips around to see none other than your vampiric companion standing over you, a smirk tugging at his lips. You huff at him before looking down to the rabbit by your knees and heat rushes to your cheeks. What should have been a simple skinning job to get the meat ready for dinner has turned into a mess. Cuts in the wrong places, the hide nowhere near usable anymore.
You look back up just in time to see Astarions red eyes go from you, to Halsin, then back again. His smile grows. He shifts his feet, one arm resting across his chest as he gestures with his other to Halsin.
“You know, you could paint a portrait. It would last longer.”
Your cheeks somehow get even hotter, as you turn back to the rabbit in front of you, doing a much better job than earlier.
“Leave me alone, Astarion,” you mumble, cursing internally when the elf lowers himself to the ground beside you, arms resting on his knees.
“And why would I do that, when teasing you gives me so much joy?”
You can’t stop the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Okay, well you got me all flustered. So now that’s out of the way, did you need something or did you really interrupt your reading to bother me?”
The vampire sighs, leaning back on his hands as he looks over to you. “What I need is for you to finally jump that druids bones.”
You nearly choke as the words leave his lips, looking around to see if anyone heard and feeling heat creep up your neck once more as you see Shadowheart failing to hide a chuckle.
You turn to face your friend, eyes narrowed. “Could you be a little more quiet? I don’t need the whole camp hearing you.”
Astarion laughs this time, loudly, and it draws more glances than you’d like. You roughly shove the man next to you before he can speak.
“Your next words better be a whisper or I’m going to stab you ” you threaten, poking the knife in his direction.
Astarion places a hand over his heart, faux hurt in his eyes. “You wound me, darling. I’m just trying to help you. Plus,” he gestures to the camp, “it’s not like your attraction is a secret, nor Halsin’s.”
You shake your head turning back to grab another rabbit, embarrassment welling up in your chest. “He doesn’t…” you trail off, getting defensive. “Nothing’s there, Astarion. So can we please just drop it?”
Of course, he doesn’t.
“Look,” he starts, “all I’m trying to say is that neither of you are benefiting from holding back so…indulge, for once. Gods know we all deserve it.”
You ignore him. Curling in on yourself at the mention of…indulging. There nothing wrong with it of course. Everyone at camp has blown off steam along this adventure. Just…not you.
And the vampire must be able to tell too, because at your silence he straightens up, brows pinching in the rare way that shows he’s concerned.
“Wait, have you never…?” he gestures vaguely in the air.
His words, despite their genuine curiosity, strike a chord in you. You stand abruptly, tossing your work to the ground and stabbing your knife in the dirt.
“No I haven’t. Not that it’s any of your business.” Your words are louder than you intended and draw the eyes and ears of your other companions.
Astarion softens, obviously not expecting this reaction. “I didn’t mean to upset you-“
You clench your fists at your sides, interrupting him. “You never mean to Astarion but -“ You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath. “You’re such an ass sometimes.”
You turn on your heel and storm from camp before anyone can stop you, ignoring the concerned gaze of a certain druid.
———
The water is cool against your skin as you squat by the stream’s edge, rubbing at your hands as you try to get the blood off of them.
You feel foolish now, storming off like that. But Astarion pointing out your inexperience just struck you. It’s not something that’s ever bothered you before. Especially not in recent months since dealing with the tadpole. You all have more important things to worry about.
But the moment you rescued Halsin…it’s like something changed. You were instantly drawn to him. His kind smile and thoughtful words. His care for everyone and everything in nature.
And he flirted with you.
The memory is still fresh in your mind. The night of the tiefling party after you had stopped the ritual at the druid camp and saved Halsin. You were worried you were talking his ear off, but he was attentive the whole conversation. Answering your questions and asking some about you.
Then he said those honeyed words. Suggested celebrating by spending the night with someone special. Implied he would spend it with you if his mind wasn’t elsewhere.
You withdraw your hands from the water to drag them down your face as more memories surface.
More flirtatious banter and kind words. Thoughtful conversations and fighting side by side. The night sat by your bedside nursing you back to health after a particularly nasty fight. After Ketheric Thorm almost took you out.
Your side still aches with the memory. But the thought of his hands with their soothing healing glow, makes the ache subside.
You sigh, sitting back into the grass as your eyes lock onto the slowly gurgling stream, Astarion words playing over and over in your head.
Indulge, for once.
You want to. Gods do you want that.
You’ve spent many sleepless nights thinking about it. About his lips against yours, his hands on your skin, the sweet words he’d no doubt whisper against your ear.
You shudder at the thought before shoving it away. Because any time he hinted at that - showed any interest in you - you would be so elated before insecurity took over.
Halsin’s views on love and intimacy are no secret. You’d asked him once about current lovers and while he did confide no one currently held his affections back home he also expressed that there were others in the past.
Others. Plural.
And you’ve never been with anyone. Not physically or emotionally, you’ve never trusted anyone enough.
Not until now.
You sigh, frustration creeping back in as you press the heels of your palms into your eyes before quickly standing up. You need to apologize to Astarion and finally, maybe, talk to Halsin.
You turn on your heel to do just that when you run straight into a solid mass. You gasp, stumbling backwards just as two strong hands reach out to steady you, gripping your wrists firmly.
Once steady, you look up to see none other than the man haunting your thoughts smiling down at you.
“You must have been very deep in thought for someone like me to sneak up on you, little one.”
You have to suppress a shiver at the nickname. A moniker he’d given you since you teased him about his size at the beginning of your friendship.
You shake your head, moving to step away and only stopping when his hands let go only to slip down and take your own gently.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I was just…thinking.”
Halsin stares at you for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face before he steps away, gesturing down the first path, one hand still in your own.
“Walk with me?” he asks. “I know being in nature helps me clear my head of even the darkest thoughts.”
You give a hesitant nod and follow him as he turns towards the path, not able to stop the smile when he doesn’t drop your hand.
———
The walk is mostly silent, a comfortable silence, but silent nonetheless. And you are grateful for it, not sure what you would say if Halsin were to ask what has you so upset.
But, silence can’t last forever it seems, because eventually the large Druid breaks through the sounds of nature surrounding you to speak.
“I overheard your conversation with Astarion,” he says, voice gentle. Probing, but not not forcing you to talk if you do not wish.
You stiffen, your pace slowing slightly, wanting to pull away from the man at your side. But his sure grip on your hand keeps you in place. The warmth of his skin on yours puts you slightly at ease.
“You…you heard that?” you ask, cringing internally. “You were across camp.”
The druid chuckles, gesturing to his ears with his free hand. “One of the curses of us elves. Impeccable hearing. Even when we don’t wish for it.”
You can feel your shoulders creeping up to your ears. Embarrassment settling in once more. “You were listening to us? To me?”
Halsin shrugs. “Not intentionally,” he admits, slowing his steps until you’re both stopped and he’s facing you. “But I find my attention turning towards you more often than not these days.”
His words tie your tongue and before you can gather enough sense to respond he continues.
“Nature works in mysterious ways, little one,” he tells you, eyes never leaving your face. “There is no one way to traverse it, and others journey do not define your own. Each one is unique, as it is intended.”
His words are beautifully woven, as always. And despite his cryptic deliverance, you know the meaning behind his words.
He’s comforting you. And once again, he speaks before you can detangle the jumble of thoughts in your head.
“And,” he reaches out, placing a curled finger beneath your chin to urge you to look up at him, “if it’s any encouragement, I seek you out as much as you do me. Possibly more so.”
Your eyes widen, heart stuttering in your chest at his words. He…does he feel the same way? Rationally you know he does. But that ever familiar self doubt, the tiny voice in your mind has always brushed away the flirting - the kind words and gentle touches as just part of his nature. None of it is reserved just for you.
Right?
Halsin smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners gently as he looks down at you. “Is that really such an outlandish thought? That I return your affections?” He pauses, “unless my heart has run ahead of itself and I have misread-“
You stop him then, reaching up to place a staying hand on his own beneath your chin.
“No! You haven’t…you haven’t misread,” you assure him, trying to still your racing heart.
His smile never falters, his other hand finally coming up to cradle the back of your head, teasing soft strands of hair between his fingers.
“That is good to hear,” he says, pulling you ever closer, his nose almost brushing yours, “it puts this old druid's mind at rest.”
Gods, you can’t breathe. The air in your lungs refusing to expel as he lean even closer, lips a hairbreadth away from your own. Your body sings with anticipation, your skin hot despite the cool air ushered in by the sun sinking below the horizon, the days last rays barely filtering through the trees.
“Can I kiss you, my heart?”
Halsins words are soft, barley a whisper and nearly drowned out by the sounds of nature around you and the roaring of blood in your ears.
You nod. “Please-“
The word barely passes your lips before he descends upon you, sealing his mouth with your own.
It’s both everything you expected and completely surprising at the same time. His hands are sure as he pulls you into him, one hand still cradling your head as the other slips down to your hip before wrapping around your waist. Yet his lips, the kiss itself is…soft. Gentle. Loving. The action speaks louder than any words either of you have said to one another. Louder than the words you never worked up the courage to speak.
Finally, your mind catches up with you, and your hands slide up his chest to clutch tentatively at his shoulders.
Halsins still hasn’t broken away from you, and when his tongue brushes against your lips you let him in. You tug him closer then, one of your hands sliding up to rest at the back of his neck eliminating any empty space between you as his tongue slides against your own.
He only pulls away when he must sense your need for air, but he doesn’t go far, lips pressing gently to the corner of your own, and then another to your jaw.
You’re breathless.
Chest heaving against him, as he pulls away just enough to look at you once more.
“As much as I’d love to continue…” his hand squeezes your hip gently, “we should make our way back to camp. I can imagine our absence as stirred gossip with our vampiric companion and..” he sighs, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. “I don’t want to overwhelm you.”
You can’t surprise the shiver that runs down your spine, or the smile that tugs at your lips.
“I’m…I’m okay being overwhelmed if it’s like that,” you tell him breathlessly.
Halsin laughs, a deep down genuine laugh that makes your heart sing even as he steps away from you.
“Then I will overwhelm you in all the ways I know how.” He promises, eyes trailing over you heatedly.
Your stomach does a flip at his words, and the effect they have on you must show on your face because Halsin chuckles again, leaning in to press one last kiss to your cheek before tugging you back in the direction towards camp.
“Another night, my heart,” he says, thumb brushing over your knuckles from where your hand remains in his own.
You let out a shaky breath, and nod, smiling as you walk closer to him. “I’m holding you to that.”
“I hope you would, though I doubt I will forget such a promise,” he assures before letting silence blanket you both one more.
You can’t stop the thrill that runs through you at his words.
Yes, I’ll hold you to that promise indeed.
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do you forgive me? ------ 18+
You two had been fighting all day and night long, arguing back and forth about something that had happened earlier in the day. Miguel’s stubbornness mixed with your persistence had made for a long tiring day of endless jabs and bickering. And now you’re mad, really mad. Even though you’re both to blame, you’ve had enough of his inability to admit his faults. He just needs to control his temper, especially around you. He’s lost control over too many outbursts and one of these days you might just decide you’ve had enough. And he doesn’t know what he'd do with himself if you ever left him.
So after trying to talk to you, have a conversation, you blew up at him, your anger finally bubbling over. He let you explode at him, taking the scolding, knowing you had been the one holding it in all day while he did most of the yelling. But again, he let his anger get the best of him. One thing led to another, feelings were hurt again and again, and it all ended up in your shared bed, your legs spread wide over him, straddling his thick body in between your thighs, his chest pressed against yours, pumping into you with all the force of his anger.
It starts rough and angry, pushing your hands against his chest hard, softly whimpering how furious you were with him as he pulled your hair to make you face the ceiling, fucking up into you ruthlessly, making you even angrier. With every “fuck you” that passed your lips he’d pound into you harder and deeper, aiming to make you scream. Strained urgent cries of pleasure and pain left your gaping mouth as you smacked his chest away, making Miguel lose his shit yet another time today.
“Do you wanna get fucked or are you gonna fight me? Pick one, you can’t do both.” He says sternly, grabbing your wrist and pushing your arm behind your back, forcing you to stop pushing him away as you glare at him, his hips rolling up into you so meanly. “Mmm-fuck you Mig-ah!” You gasp and cry out as he rams into you when he hears your words, grabbing your hip roughly and bringing it down as he thrusts up into you hard. Your eyes become glossy and your voice is getting hoarse and none of this does anything to calm your anger.
“Just be quiet.” He commands, holding your hands behind your back as he keeps abusing your plush walls with his thickness, the both of you burning with the fire of sex and anger. You glare at him and bite your lip, as much as you wanted to scream at him, you had to admit he was being especially rough so you just decided to keep your mouth shut.
“Oh yeah now you wise up huh? Is this all it took? Just needed to be fucked?” He teases and grits his teeth, pulling your hair again, making you whine and furrow your brow, looking away from him, realizing you’ve been defeated by him. You’re left feeling weak and fragile when you were trying to give him a piece of your mind. You look away and are lost in thought for a few seconds. Your angry face fading into something softer, still whimpering, whining at the buzz in your neglected clit, short shallow breaths leaving your lips in rhythm.
He knows he’s being mean, knows exactly the right words to get you more angry and everything he’s doing is intentional. But now seeing your face made him start to feel guilty. He sighs and closes his eyes for a moment. This isn’t how problems get solved. And he created this problem, he shouldn’t be making it worse with this. He opens his mouth to say something but he doesn’t know what… and his face softens when he watches you close your eyes.
He slows down the pace, loosening his harsh grasp on your hair and softening his eyes while looking at you. Your eyes are closed and you still bite your lip hard. You’re so full of him, his dick gliding perfectly through your sensitivity even as you feel like hating him right now. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s making you feel so good even when you’re so upset with him. Even though your tears threaten to fall, you can’t deny he knows exactly how to make you feel good. He takes a deep breath and lets go of your wrists, one hand splayed gently on your back as he tucks some fallen hair behind your ear. “Baby…” He says softly, hoping you’ll acknowledge him. But you don't, you just keep your eyes closed as he keeps pumping into you at a slow, steady pace, still plenty deep enough for you to feel absolutely everything. If anything, this new tempo is getting you even closer to finishing. “Baby…” He says again as more of a whisper and leans forward to kiss your neck, trying to introduce some sweetness into this mix of hate and anger. When you feel him trying to kiss you, you push his face away with your hand, you don't want his kisses right now.
His guilt weighs heavier in his chest as he feels you push him away. He knows this all has gone too far. He can see you’re trying to ignore him again even when he’s deep inside you. He keeps his hands on your back as he gently lowers you down from where you were straddling his lap so roughly, and he lays you down on your back, your head landing softly on the pillows. Your eyes are still closed, breathing sharply, trying to just receive the pleasure he’s giving you and basically ignore him. Just use him to make yourself feel good. If he’s not going to apologize, at least he can make you cum, right?
“Please look at me… baby please…” He whispers, still pumping into you deeply, knowing it’s making you feel good even though he feels so bad inside. He can feel it in the way your muscles pulse around him, you’re still on your way up to release. He just wants you to acknowledge him, you could scream at him again if that's what it took. But he doesn’t want to stop giving you the only thing that’s seeming to make you feel good right now. He’s sure that if he stopped now you’d never forgive him.
“Please… please? Baby I-” He whimpers, begging, and you turn your head to the side. Your fingers dig into the pillow behind your head the way they usually dig into his muscles or run through his hair. But you don't want to touch him. Don’t want to give him the satisfaction. A tear rolls down the side of your face as your lips part in pleasure and he can feel that you’re getting close. But he doesn’t want you to cum and still be so mad at him, that would break his heart.
When you feel overwhelmed by the pleasure, feeling your orgasm start to burn in your tummy, you instinctively open your eyes and look at him. And he gives you a light smile as he keeps moving within you, trying to give you what you need. Your breath catches in your throat, almost sounding like you could cry.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry baby…” Miguel says looking in your eyes, running his thumb over your cheek, wiping your tears away. You look in his eyes and place a hand on his shoulder. He takes this as a step in the right direction. “I’m a fuckin’ idiot, okay? It’s my fault I’m… I’m sorry” He says genuinely and your face softens, a soft moan escaping your lips as he leans down further, getting even deeper, the way he knows you love. His dick kissing all the sweet spots. Your stomach muscles tense and relax at the feeling, he can feel it against his abdomen.
His fingers run down your cheek lovingly, a shaky breath passing your lips as you nod, acknowledging his apology. You know you also owe him an apology but you’re too fuzzy to do it right now. He gives you a small smile and begins grinding his hips into you, the way he knows feels much better for you than it does for him, making your jaw drop as the two of you never break eye contact. His fingers move down your stomach and between your thighs, collecting some of your slick and massaging your clit, feeling the way your thighs squeeze his waist in reaction. This is his final apology, bringing you into the bliss you need. The orgasm you deserve after such a long and distant day, stolen by the most pointless argument. You feel like you could cry at the pleasure, your hands grabbing at his shoulders as you whimper softly. “I… I’m…” You try to say. You don't know if you’re apologizing or trying to tell him you’re about to cum, but you can barely breathe right now.
“I know baby… I know…” He soothes and leans down again to kiss your neck. Trailing kisses across your throat and collarbone.
His brow furrows in focus, fucking into you sweetly but just the perfect amount of roughness to push you over the edge. His cock pulses through your walls again and again, feeling the burn in your stomach blossom into a beautiful flower. Your back arches into the bed and Miguel leaves kisses down your chest, feeling his own climax approaching. “Oh baby… oh…” He moans against your chest. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, crying out at the feeling. Your velvet walls squeeze him in rhythm and he slows his movements, spurting his load deep into you as he moans into your skin. And it’s the closest you’ve felt to each other all day.
When you both come down, you smile at him, your eyes still glossy with tears. Feeling overwhelmed by the emotions of the day and Miguel’s actions out of love.
“I love you…” Miguel whispers looking down and wiping another tear from your cheek, cursing himself in his head for making his sweet girl cry. You smile at him and it makes his heart swell, he’s missed your smile all day long. “I love you too… and I’m sorry… I don’t like fighting with you…” You say very softly, voice still slightly hoarse from all the yelling.
“I don’t like fighting with you either, amor…” He says gently and runs his thumb over your cheekbone, pressing his forehead to yours.
“No more…” You say and put your hand on his cheek, looking down at his lips.
“No more.” He repeats and runs his thumb over your bottom lip. You smile at him again and he leans in to kiss your lips finally. He hasn’t kissed your lips all day and it feels so right. Feels like a drug from which you’ve both been having withdrawal. He keeps kissing your lips over and over as you hum into his mouth.
“Do you forgive me?” He pulls back and looks in your eyes hopefully. “Mm…I might need some more convincing.” You whisper, the both of you grinning as he kisses you once more…
#miguel ohara#miguel spiderman#spiderman 2099#artists on tumblr#miguel fanart#miguel spiderverse#smut#artists on tiktok#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara smut#miguelohara#miguel x y/n#miguel x you#miguel x reader
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☆ macrocosm
➷ in which Luke would send you the sun and every asteroid, and you'd send him the moon and the stars.
pairing: Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo!reader
genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slight angst, established relationship!AU
warnings: one tiny injury, some cheesiness, and um issues with parents? also reader is implied to be female!!
word count: 1.2k words
a/n: hi all!!! my first time (and probably last LOL) time writing anything pjo :000 unless my brainrot gets bigger, i think this is the only thing i will only release, I hope you all enjoy and I'm sorry if I made any mistakes!! dont hesitate to tell me if i did or if i forgot to add a warning ^^ have a great day and merry late christmas!!!
Luke Castellan is a great source of your happiness.
Whether it be bringing you a small snack while you work endlessly in the infirmary, or sitting there with you, waiting for you to finally be free of work to finally have a chat with you, with the biggest smile on his lips.
Or it could be from how he always strives to protect you, jumping right in the middle of an attack during capture the flag.
"I can handle myself, Luke." You'd tell him.
He believes you. Every bit of his being believes you. You're amazing with a sword, even more with a bow. Yet something in him pushes him to shield you from any form of danger.
Even when you feel the need to be annoyed at him, in the slightest. His sheepish, almost apologetic smile he gives you pulls at your heartstrings, like a magnet. To be honest, you'd surrender your entire being for him, you'd send him the moon and the stars if he asked you to. You just love him too much.
However, Luke Castellan is also sometimes (never) a pain in your ass.
Such as now, as he once again, shoots you a sheepish smile as he shows up at the entrance of the infirmary.
"What are you doing here?" You question him instantly. Although you have a rough scrunch in your eyebrows, and your arms are crossed, Luke knows you like the back of his hand.
The way your fingers fiddle lightly with the loose string of your orange T-shirt shows how you're genuinely worried, and there's just the slightest curl at your lips that he catches.
Luke pouts at you. You ought to punch him at how cute he looks.
"What? Am I not allowed to visit my favorite girl?"
You scoff, but don't distance yourself from him when he walks forward to wrap his arms around your waist. "Not when I'm pretty sure you have counselor duties,"
Warmth spreads through you, a familiar, nostalgic one. Such as a warm home, or a campfire, it ripples through your soul and body, as Luke's fingertips caress you gently.
"I got hurt," He replies simply.
As expected, his words cause you to pull away almost immediately, your hands cupping around his cheeks softly, as you tilt his head to check every surface of his skin.
Although Luke hates making you worry, he adores the way you care for him.
With a sly smirk, Luke raises his index finger slowly, watching as your eyes trail from his own, to his hand, and finally, the small cut on his finger.
In an instant, you push Luke away playfully, huffing in relief. "You idiot! I thought you were hurt!"
"But you don't understand," He sighs dramatically. Your lips curl up from his overexaggerated sad expression, holding a hand to his heart. "how much my heart hurts when I'm away from you,"
With a roll of your eyes, you step away from your boyfriend, walking to the other side of the infirmary to grab a bandaid. Luke follows you, as if a magnet, watching and admiring your every move.
He watches as you unwrap the bandaid, adores you as you wrap it around his finger carefully, and if he could, he would praise you as you place a small kiss on top of it. Praise you more than he's ever praised to his father, or any other god.
"Better?"
And when he looks in your eyes, he sees his whole universe. Doesn't matter if he's a human, or half god, or if the whole mystical world existed in the universe. As long as it had you, he knew he'd yearn for it for eternity.
And suddenly, there's a flicker. Luke doesn't know how he notices it, not when it's there for only the slightest moment, but he doesn't care.
You're sad.
Another great thing about your great boyfriend, he loves to comfort you.
His fingers caress lightly at the skin of your cheek, frowning worriedly. "Are you okay?"
You're surprised at his attention to the smallest details, confusion evident on your face. "How did you—"
"—I just know, baby," He chuckles. "now tell me, are you okay?"
You can't explain it. But you try, for Luke. You'd do anything for him.
"My dad," You start. This time, it's Luke's heartstrings that are pulled dangerously at. He knows how complicated your relationship with your dad is—hell, everyone at camp has a complicated relationship with their God parent!
Luke's thumb strokes your cheek dearly, urging you to continue.
"He... visited my sibling? I guess? I mean, not directly but, yeah,"
You are a person who's strong, who's always put together, even more so when you have to take care of people every day. Seeing you so... hurt, so vulnerable and weak, Luke wants to curse at Apollo himself, but knows better. He's not worth it. You, however, Luke will stay and wait forever for.
"He visited my brother in a dream. They had a whole conversation, caught up, and I'm happy for him, I am! I just—" You can't keep your lip from wobbling, your heart shaking just at the thought of what your brother had told the whole cabin just this morning.
They were all happy, so were you, asking him countless questions and eager to know how their father is doing, but you can't help but feel jealous.
Luke nods in understanding as you tell him this.
"I mean, he visits my brother, has a whole conversation with him all night in his dream... and he can barely spare a single word for me? What, not even a sign the he cares, that he's here?"
And when tears cascade down your cheek, Luke wants to destroy Olympus with his own bare hands. Maybe for another day, for now, he'll coo and bring you into his embrace, stroking at your back affectionately.
"It's okay baby, it's just me. Let it all out,"
Pent up stress from the week, added with your jealousy and confusion results in a full sob into your lover's shoulder, as he mumbles sweet nothings into your ear.
"I've got you, and I'm not going anywhere."
Your soul cleanses from the hatred and envy, replaced with the love and care that Luke provides, feeling safety and solace in his embrace alone.
"I'm sorry for burdening you like this,"
Luke's heart nearly physically cracks at your words, even more at your defeated eyes peering up at him.
He shakes his head, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. "Don't be sorry, baby," He mumbles, before pressing another kiss to your cheeks, pecking away your tears. "you could never burden me."
Finally, immense joy and love resonates through you, as it radiates off Luke and onto you, like the sun shines its rays onto earth, you feel complete with him.
"Thank you," You breathe out, staring into Luke's eyes with the most gratitude and love. And once again, he sees those eyes. The eyes that hold his universe, the eyes he'd yearn for forever. And when he leans down to connect your lips in a soft, loving kiss, he knows he will yearn them forever.
You'd send the moon and all the stars his way.
Luke would go to hell and back for you, he'd destroy Olympus for you. He'd be your sun and every asteroid, and you his moon and stars. Together, you'd have your own little universe, just for the two of you. Doesn't matter if you're human, or demigod, as long as he has you, and you have him, it'll forever be complete.
#luke castellan imagines#pjo series#luke castellan#luke pjo#luke castellan x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#luke pjo x reader#pjo x reader#pjo tv show#percy jackson x reader#luke castellan fluff
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Jealous, Jealous, Boy || Young president!Snow X Plinth!Reader
GIF by @fuckyeahtomblyth and divider by @firefly-graphics
Summary: Being Panem’s First Lady was not all luxurious or happy. Snow was often cold, focused on Gamemaking leaving you to do whatever you pleased to do. But when new arrive to him that you were being awfully to friendly with one of the elitists, Snow always lands on top.
Warnings: toxic/possesive Snow
Wc:
Coriolanus Snow Masterlist
“And where have you been, my darling wife?” Snow’s voice calls out as you pause slightly before shutting the doors behind you. Smoothing down the fitted dress, your heels click as you walk towards the drawing room. You see Snow sitting on an armchair, his back facing you as your fingers tap against your thigh.
“I asked you a question,” He voices out, his head turning to the side. “I visited the academy, wanted to see how the students were going.” You softly spoke out. It wasn’t a lie. You were bored out of your mind as of this morning, Tigris had to cancel on your weekly meet up and Snow was going to be stuck in his office all day like every other day.
“Come, sit.” He turns his head back around. It was dead silent apart from the clicking of your heels as you sit at the armchair beside Coriolanus’. “How’s the little one?” He makes eye contact with you, his arms folding as you furrow your eyebrows at him.
“Oh don’t act stupid Y/n, you don’t think I don’t get informed when you don’t bleed?” He chuckles, amused. Instinctively, your hand caresses your lower abdomen. Snow watches silently, “Can I?” “Hm?” “Can I feel it?” The corners of your lips slightly tug up. “Of course Coryo,” his nickname slipped out of your mouth. It had been such a long time since you’ve called him something so personal.
Snow’s large hands slowly move to your clothed abdomen. His fingers were ever so close, but you could tell he was hesitant. You take his hand and place it at the barely there bump. You intently watch Snow’s feature soften. Although they were quite young, a child would only help strengthen the family.
And just like that, his features harden. His cold façade back. He retreats his hand back, rubbing his forehead. “What are you thinking about?” You quietly ask, your eyes on your hands as you fidget. Coriolanus was always like this.
Shutting himself away whenever he felt a slight tinge of happiness, or the feeling of being loved. He hated the it; bringing him awful memories. “I’m thinking, y/n, of what I should do.” He stands up as your eyes follow him moving towards the alcohol on the table. “I’ve been informed that you have gotten quite comfortable with one of the elitists, am I wrong?”
Silence. “I said, am. I. wrong!” He yells, throwing the shot glass at the portrait of you and him on your wedding day. You quietly scream as you bring your hands up to your ears. You were shaking. Tears uncontrollably fell from your eyes as you sobbed. Snow hardly ever showed you his violent side. Feeling his presence coming towards you, you move your legs towards your chest.
“Shhh…” He takes your hands in his. You slowly look up towards your husband who’s staring at you so intensely. He lifts your chin up with his index finger. “You know I would never hurt you,” he says ever so softly, “or our unborn child,” His eyes flicker to your stomach.
“For the sake of my sanity, you are to stay home. You are not permitted to visit the academy. Do you understand, wife?” Your gaze falters, Snow pushes your chin up higher once again, forcing you to look at his blue irises. “Do you understand?” Snow says, this time it was barely a whisper.
You nodding your head was not sufficient enough for him. “Give me words.” “Yes. Yes I understand, husband” His face contorts into satisfaction. “Reed was it? Is that his name?” You slowly nod, he already knew that, he just wanted you to admit to it. “I didn’t cheat.” “Hm, I believe you. Reed will be kicked out, he should know his place.”
Coriolanus gives you one final kiss before straightening up and walking away.
#Coriolanus snow angst#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x reader#tom blyth#coriolanus snow#hunger games#the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes
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✧˖ ?!— TWO WHORES IN A ROOM, THEY MIGHT KISS. - (SUGGSTV.)
— ‧₊˚ — 🎸: "punch me in the gut, might be the only chance you'd ever have at wrecking my insides ??"
summary. having a lil punching sesh with the arrogant man-whore you oh so despised was not an easy game but def. a fun one at that !
notes. i don't know boxing like thattt so if this sounds a lil stupid i'm sry 😭😭 anyways boxer jk???? SJSPAAKMP
warnings/includes. (MDNI) non idol! jungkook x f! reader, hate fuck if you squint, enemies to lovers??? kinda, DEGRADING from both sides, slut, whore + man-whore mentioned, grinding
you don't know how long you've been circling around eachother, throwing insults left and right - yet nobody had landed the first punch yet. "you know for a man who keeps on yapping about being the best boxer in this shitplace, you're pretty damn scared of me" your eyes never leaving his, box gloves so tight around your hands, your tone sweet in that mocking tone, "you know you've got a pretty big mouth for somebody who claims they're not a slut" he responded no chalently as you didn't even shiver or visably reacted to the insult.
"you sound like you'd die to feel my precious mouth on you" you pouted sarcastically, the circle continuing once again.
"is that a threat or an invitation?" another one-liner fired back, your eyes narrowing - he may look serious but you know he's enjoying every second of this.
and right then and there- in the second he was waiting for you to reply, unfocused for just a split second you throw the first punch.
you immediately bring your fist back, landing a decent hook across his jaw. his head is forced back and eyes widened as he's obviously surprised, though he doesn't react much to the hit. he seems to quickly regain his composure and his eyes narrow sharply, a grin sneaking it's way onto his face: "well what do you know, the pussycat can fight"
it frustrated you that he wasn't fighting back - like you weren't deserving of a punch or two in the first place, like all you were deserving of were little mind games to rile you up but if he could play the game, you could too.
"no fucking shit, i've won more this year then you could dream of, you're just a man whore who thinks having abs and chicks on your dick are personality traits"
his eyes widen just a tiny bit and for a split second you feel you can see actual anger in him, before it's quickly replaced with a sly smirk as he's trying to play cool. he steps forward, getting so close and in your personal space to look taller on purpose, to tower you- to make you look weak, smaller, inferior to him - looking down at you, leaning in even closer and staring right into your eyes.
"you're a lot more fun when you're pissed off you know that?" he looks down a bit more and raises his eyebrows suggestively, "i just have to find the right buttons to press on you"
you're unaffected on the outside, he hasn't even reached any territory that could actually hurt your feelings - "you awfully sound like your talking about my tits, even in your mind there's an image of me permanently printed in, you can't stop thinking of me- you might need to get that chronical sexual obssesion checked at a doctor, that unhealthly ego might as well too"
jungkooks jaw tightens as you can see he's biting his tongue, trying to not react to your insult. looking down again, not saying anything for few seconds as he's processing the response. you can see him trying to not smirk in the corner of his mouth as he's trying to find an insult to answer back-
you took just the time: "huh? did that hurt? does the little pussyeater-for-a-living feel offended? do i need to bring you back to your mommy?" in a whiny tone like you're mimicking him yet still so insanely mocking.
kook tried his very best to sound calm and unbothered but his neck veins were already visable, a little frown on his face as well, ""i think i'm starting to actually get irritated"
"what? like it's hard?" you held eye contact with him without a problem, tension oh so heavy then adding, "c'mon punch me in the gut, might be the only chance you'd ever have at wrecking my insides"
he gets even closer, so close that his forehead is touching yours, still making that suggestive smirk as you see his jaw is clenched so tight. "i'd love to beat that pretty face of yours," he utters at last.
"oh but then there'd be no face for the men to kiss, is that what you want- oh, is our little kook jealous?"
his voice gets raspy and low, "jealous?" eyes remaining on yours ´, not breaking away even just once till he whispers (though there weren't even any people in the training room you both were in) like he was talking personally to you, he was trying to get under your skin: "you think a pathetic little whore like you would make me jealous?"
you're not hurt- not at all, i mean- if you were a slut, he was just the same. jungkook just had to little of reflecting skills or general understanding to coprehend just that- you punched him onto his stomach, him now stumbling just a bit now on more of a distance from you.
you can see he's struggling to not fall down from the impact of the blow. he clutches his abdomen, looking away from you to not let you see just how effective it wasbafter his lungs get the chance to refill with oxygen, he utters words with more passion than before, trying to mask the pain, "pathetic little whore, i thought you were better than this. but i guess you should stick to the dick, you can't fight like a man"
you roll your eyes at his tiny tries of regaining control: "your jaw that i punched just a few minutes ago says something else, c'mon knock me down- i bet you'd love to just be on top of me yet you're to afraid to even just fight and that's what i call pathetic"
that's where you reached his ego's final straw, lunging forward in rage knocking you down in a turn of events and pinning you to the ground, trying his absolute best to hold you down.
he's basically sitting on your body middle, straddling you in a way, you grinned like you weren't even afraid of him on top or you on the ground obviously you could feel his cock pressing hard against you "oh you got such a boner it's funny"
you saw him play with his left lip ring just how he always did when he was particulary focused, responding: "oh don't act so high and mighty, i bet you ruined your damn panties by now"
now you were the one silent, you truly didn't knew what to respond as.. he was right, fuck- maybe this turned you on more than you thought.
seeming a bit amused by that, his smirk becoming a cocky grin as he starts speaking again, in even more suggestive tone, "what's wrong, little slut? you're not even denying it"
he grinded onto you just a little, just so little against your core that it brought just the tiniest bit of pleasure but left you yearning for more, faster, harder leaving you to put your hands onto his hips, hands looking relatively small on his body.
he looks at you from his position, a mischievous smile on his lips as he moves his hips some more in a slow, grinding motion, while blabbering on and on, "not even i thought it was gonna be so easy to top you"
he tried his best to hide a moan by laughing that only half-working, hips continuing to grind onto you, bringing his lips to your neck, mumbling against the soft skin:
"i won"
#kpop smut#bts ff#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts imagines#bts x you#bts x reader#jungkook x reader#jungkook#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x y/n#bts x fem!reader#bts x y/n#bts ffs#jungkook ff#imagines#bts#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook imagine
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