Professor!re4r Leon Fucking U.. I Think (or At Least Wanting To Fuck U)

professor!re4r leon fucking u.. i think (or at least wanting to fuck u)

cw content : leon size kink kennedy (jk) | sub-afab-fem-reader and dom!leon kennedy | age gap(ur 19-20 he's 27), leon masturbating, penetration, slightly weird ooc leon:( ♡

[to clarify, i am a minor (17). anyone <17 and anyone >17 uncomfortable with interacting pls dni]

authors note bc i love rambling; btw i'm writing this in public at some boba cafe can u believe that lol im literally supposed to be studying but hwatever fuck it leon make me go blaahhhhhh. btw what do i call this? a fic?blurb?drabble? idklmfao by the way i have NO idea on how to write professor x reader shit so im sorrhy if this sucks ass.

synopsis : conflicted and flustered professor!leon kennedy of your local college struggles to improve his class' average because students like you—incompetent, airheaded, spoiled and klutzy— make it difficult for him :(

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

you heard the rustling of laptop bags and stationery as leon's students left for that morning lecture. though, they moved slow and drowsy; for leon is sure nowadays this generation can't afford to wake up at 6:00 in the morning to prepare for a 7 a.m. lecture on "deviance and crime control."

especially you.

kennedy is a sharp man. he harps on students even if they get a B on any assignment, but he swears it's on his tough love (to which a lot of students aren't really aware of, just that they know this stoic pretty-face of a man has high standards.)

he is also keen on attendance. something girls like you seem to take lightly. it was absurd, really. most professors don't give a shit, do they?

it would've been fine with leon if you missed lectures even twice a week as long as you emphasized your understanding of his lessons through putting stellar effort on your schoolwork. but the best you've gotten on his class was a B- drawing close to a C+.

so, he needs to have a chat with you. urgently.

"l/n, i need to speak with you." leon spoke, confrontative as his black jeans peered from your right peripheral vision. he stood tall beside the edge of the table where you sat. jesus, was he trying to give you a heart attack? (he always had this habit, he'd just pop out of nowhere. he has silent feet.)

yes, you may have missed his lectures from monday to thursday to go to macedonia with your family: but if leon were given the opportunity for a vacation he would snag it too, right?

you looked up at the young professor, wide-eyed and a bit intimidated. what the hell did you do this time? you closed your laptop, gave leon your full attention. leon has also noticed this about you; you're quick to pay attention but you have the memory span of a dumb rabbit. maybe even the IQ of one too, if leon was rude enough.

so you sat there, hands on your lap as you fiddled with the pleats of your blue plaid skirt. the color makes his heart beat a little—he loves the color blue. and the way it looked on you... wait, no. what the hell was he thinking?

"you couldn't even spare the few minutes to e-mail me that you'd be missing four- four, of my classes in one week." he emphasized with a slate tone, and the way his eyes peered down at you added that he needed your reasoning of the situation. he'd love to hear what you had to say for yourself. "i had to talk to your friend, ashley, for some clarification. even the president's daughter has the dignity to show up to my class with a verbal apology." leon scolded as his fingertips met the pages of your notebook. did you even care about his classes? :(

much to your chagrin, your lips were pressed in sheepish silence. hopeless, even. you didn't even have anything to say for yourself? how pitiable.

you simply can't miss class, that wasn't right! just because you thought you could hide in the shadows amidst leon's collective of 73 students (yes he counts), you aren't out of his eyes. in fact, you stood out to him even if you were just an incompetent scholar.

he sighed at your silence. "fair enough, an apology can't compensate for your lack of presence or decorum." he then placed your paper on the desk, you had gotten a D. you were never a bad student but this was your first D ever! your eyes widened and he caught on even though he could only see the crown of your hair. "surprised? because i'm not." leon uttered flatly while his pale fingers flipped through the papers right in front of you. you even spotted a few contractions— when did you even pass this?!

but you weren't a bad girl to him, no. you were capable of shame and guilt. you looked sideways, unable to meet his eyes and training your vision to the floor. you felt low, disappointing a professor that gave you numerous chances to break out of your awkward shell.

"you're a smart girl, you know that?" he finally sighed softly. he wanted you to look at him, make him another promise that you'll start putting effort in his class. he needed to maintain his class's average or else he'd prove he was an inept professor, and he can't do that when he lets 'students like you' get away with shabby attendance and subpar schoolwork. "i don't just give students chances. but that doesn't make you special." and it was true—he's voluntarily failed 6 of his students before. "you'll do something about this, right?"

"yes, professor kennedy.." you muttered modestly.

"hmm?" he hummed inquisitively as he took your paper back. he was willing to give you a chance. "listen to me. i'll give you the chance to redo your paper. i know when students rush their work and if i see even a hint of redundancy in it—i will take all my chances back. and you are never taking absences from my class. i don't want you entering even a minute late, or leaving a second early. i hope we're clear, l/n."

naturally, you were scared. so you nodded up at him after countless confirmations that you will do you work and that you'll show up to class no matter what. he has to use your word against you, he's sorry but it's for your own good.

once he was satisfied, he gave you a nod and turned his side, dismissing you. after all, leon was a busy man. you're not his only student.

it was when you walked out the building and then 20 minutes away from it that you felt like crying. you hated being scolded by him :( but just when you were about to go through your bag for your handkerchief, you were stuck with an inconvenient realization. you forgot your handkerchief.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

leon just stared at the table where you sat from just now, backpack strap over his shoulders since he was just about to leave. he gripped onto either of them slowly as he stared down at your handkerchief in contemplation.

a twofold baby-blue hankie embedded with a subtle floral print. tentatively, he picks it up with his hand and examines it. for a minute his mind went blank, conflicting between chasing you and just returning it to you or to leave it by the lecture podium for her to retrieve tomorrow (when you hopefully attend his lesson again.)

..but blue was his favorite color.

"damn it." leon, with a barely audible mutter, shoved the handkerchief in his jacket pocket. he felt like the most guilty man in the world, poor boy.

...

leon sighed.

he wasn't celibate.

his hormones were in shambles once he got to his place. perhaps part of it was because he knew he hasn't graded the recent tests yet.

manspreading, tie loose, shirt stuffy and jeans undone while his hair wisped in slightly disheveled directions. cold breaths followed out his pretty mouth.

"nnn..fuck.. uhh-" leon whimpered into the baby blue cloth, laced with your perfume. he felt so guilty, so perverted. he shuddered every time he could see over the edges of the cloth, seeing his cream-leaking tip from previous orgasms spurt teasingly. "ahh- fuuuck, p-please-"

his grunts were high. he was close to crying, staining your pretty handkerchief with guilty-pleasure-ridden tears. spilled milk, it trailed down his pretty shaft as he pumped it over and over. his motive was you— you were just so fucking stupid and had so much naivete, it absolutely vexed him knowing how endearing you were.

until a slip of leon's mouth surprised him, earning a small squeak from him as he accidentally muffled your name in your cloth. "fuck, y/n- a-ahh.. u-uhh..hmfff.." he was frustrated; whining and cumming while his mind stirred with the thought of you and your pretty eyes and the photographic memory of your dumbstricken face.

he gave out a tired whine into the cloth, so, so close to crying his frustrations out. he just wanted to eat you. christ, and he was so hard for you it made his head ache..

he could only watch his girth that pulsed with white. he pried the sweet handkerchief off his lips, breathing roughly and wiping his tears. he felt so, so sorry for you. the color of the cloth looked exactly like the skirt you wore yesterday. and yet to top it off, he (ashamedly) wiped his cum off with your dainty cloth. oh, he's so sorry..

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

he didn't want to come to this point. or maybe he did and god was force-feeding him with culpability (he's atheist). he offered once to tutor you personally. one-on-one, no distractions. and so suddenly, someone's skirt was on his clean carpet floor..

your blouse draped over your shoulder and was pulled above your bra carelessly. he handled you with so much ease, squishing you into position while he tried to slowly push his thick length into your syrupy hole. you bit the knuckle of your thumb, and whimpered timidly that he was too big. but look where you were now.

"fuck- you're so- you feel so good.. shut up and take it all, yeah?.. hmmff-" there leon goes, harping you again. you were so loud but it wasn't even your fault, not when he was pistoning his cock into you and paying no hesitation to his pace. you were simply too sweet for him not to please. "sweetheart, hold onto me.." he mutters.

he was pushing every squeak and cute little wail out of his pathetic student, rutting his tip into that spot. "n-nnghh- aah!~" you were running low on words.

"yeah?- mhmm...ffuck, right here? huh?" the feeling of him thrusting against that spongy part more and more sent your mind further into autopilot. you were past squirming around and pushing him away, you just had to take it.. and take it.. and you were doing so good ♡.

"l-leoonn.. m-mm!- fffeels t-too good-" you babbled, mind stuffy with the pleasurably-shameful feeling of being gorged with your professor's thick girth. he shuddered at the way you uttered his name so adoringly. to leon you were so dirty but so, so cute. he had you puddled into tears beneath him while he fucked into your cute little hole with fervor. he just wanted to stuff you full, make you his, adore you forever.

he whined softly into your shoulder. you kept clenching down on him and it made him impossible to think. his phone was ringing on his bedside but he doesn't even give a shit—if anything he tried to drown it out by thrusting into you faster, to which made him lament into your skin. he even adjusted your hips up impossibly further.

"l-leeonn, n-no..— n-no more, please!!-" you blabbered adorably, voice mumbly and whiny as you clawed at his shoulders or back— you didn't know anymore.

"shhh shh.." he cooed over your cries with a quiet and honeyed voice, planting a soft kiss to where he could reach on your face or head. "i know, i know, it feels so good, hm?.. just let it feel good, baby—ahh, fuck-.. uhh..." he moaned lowly into your shoulder, unable to stop the way he rutted his cock into your creamed-up cunt. you seemed to be enjoying it, so why were you complaining? leon thinks to himself smugly but he knows he can't act on his pride. after all you made him like this—submitting to his carnal urges...

you didn't wanna cum a third time, huh? silly little girl.

leon growled quietly into the crook where your neck and shoulder met. you've never heard that sound from him. he held you down, constraining you, and squished you further into his mattress. a helpless and surprised yelp lolled out your tongue as he went impossibly quicker while he cursed like he was about to break down in tears. leon was mercilessly grinding his cock into all your sensitive spots, not letting your pleas of retort contest him. "fuckfuck- u-uhhh, take it, baby, c'mon... do it f'me, it's gonna feel so good-.. ahh!-"

he couldn't even finish his sentence—just piping his cum in you roughly as if he were proving a point, growling whinily along the way. he even kept fucking you shallowly while you were a dumb, sniffling mess with no sense of self-assertion as you creamed all over his shaft uncontrollably a third time. consecutive and quiet whimpers could be heard from you while you soaked in your overstimulation, needing him desperately to reassure you again through the overbearing pleasure of being pushed past what your cunny can handle.

"poor baby." he muttered to himself breathily as he gave the last of his tired, frustrated thrusts and pulled out of you; giving you the time to breathe while he pats your hair down comfortingly. his fluttering eyes finally closed as his head found refuge in your neck, slightly limp with exhaustion as he huffed cold breaths on the wet patches of your skin.

he pulled his head away after a minute of regaining what's left of his strength. leon looked down at you with subtle puppylike eyes, like he was sorry for ever being so harsh on you; even before he fucked the shit out of you. you quietly took your handkerchief to wipe some sweat off his neck— and his cheeks went a little rosy, remembering what he did to it that day you "lost" it ♡.

seems detergent can't wash something like lust away!

More Posts from Fouyumixuri and Others

1 year ago

Drive

Drive

Summary: Reluctantly getting dragged to a car meet, you meet a cute and sweet biker to cheer you up.

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: Fluff, don’t get on bikes with strange men, Leon actually being a safe driver for once

A/N: Inspired by the countless motorcycle videos I keep getting on TikTok, and my own experience at car meets. Might be a little OOC, but oh well. Enjoy! :))

Drive

You don’t know how you ended up here, or why you even agreed to come out in the first place. You didn’t know shit about cars, body builds, or anything to do with motorvehicles aside from being able to change your own tire. 

It had been your best friend, Ashley’s idea to come out tonight. She’d begged and pleaded and all but cried for you to dress up cute and tag along with her to some car meet downtown to impress the boy she’d met on Tinder. And being the pushover you were, you’d ended up in this very spot–a parking deck by the river that cut through the city. Clad in a strappy bodysuit that barely held your tits in and a pair of jeans that were definitely for standing and not sitting. Which was okay, considering you’d been standing by the tool of a man-child that Ashley was so into’s shitty BMW for the past hour-and-a-half. 

If you had to hear him talk about his ‘sick’ subwoofer or the fact that he’d never gotten pulled over for his illegal tint, you were going to rip your own hair out. Giving Ashley a tight, red-lipped smile, you unfolded your arms and started off towards the rest of the cars. “I’m going to go look around,” you called out over your shoulder, not even giving her a chance to reply as you walked off. 

The air was thick with exhaust and diesel, and you could barely hear your own thoughts over the sound of bass-boosted rap songs and the continuous sound of cars attempting to do burnouts while people filmed each other. You looked over a few GTs and Mustangs, admiring the pretty paint jobs moreso than the actual car itself. God, you were so out of your element. 

“Rev it!” Some guy called out, prompting you to turn your head in the direction of the noise that followed. The sharp sound of a motorcycle revving filled the air, and your eyes landed on a group of bikes huddled more towards the back of the street by the riverbank. It was kind of hard to see with the bright LED headlights polluting your vision, but you could see the owner of the noisy motorcycle. 

A tall, muscular blonde sat atop the seat of a foreign bike with a little smile plastered on his face as he chatted with a few other bikers. You let your eyes trail down as you slipped between cars to the next row, getting a better look at him and the blacked-out bike that just screamed dangerous. He had his helmet hanging on the handlebars, one hand near the other throttle and one rested on a thick muscular thigh covered in a pair of black jeans. Even his gray hoodie couldn’t hide the biceps that were definitely handcrafted by every deity you could think to name in that moment. 

You’d definitely been staring for too long because he seemed to notice, turning his head at the moment you were between two cars on the adjacent row. The second his eyes met yours, you could’ve melted. Hooded and gorgeous, deep cerulean eyes with a set of darker lashes that were so unfair for a man to have. 

He smiled sheepishly when he realized you’d been checking him out, looking down at his lap with a little chuckle to himself before he looked back up at you. You’d half-expected him to check you out right back, but he respectfully met your eyes again and smiled politely. 

Your feet moved on their own, beat up high tops carrying you closer and closer until you were standing just a foot away from his bike. Shifting your weight from foot to foot a bit, all plans of being flirtatious and alluring out the window now that you were standing right in front of him. “I like your bike,” you finally managed to let out, eyes shifting down to the motorcycle he was sitting on before they flickered back up to him. 

“Thanks,” he spoke softly, voice deep with just the slightest bit of rasp that made something deep in the pit of your stomach flutter. He was still smiling, lopsided and charming yet completely natural. “You ride?”

You let out an embarrassed giggle, having known that question was coming. “No, not really,” you mumbled sheepishly, looking down to your manicured nails with the urge to pick at them and avoid his gaze. “Just like to look at them.” 

He chuckled at that, nodding for a moment. There was a bit of silence, but it wasn’t necessarily awkward. His mouth twitched, gears turning in his head. You could tell he was the quiet type, but he seemed determined not to let the conversation fizzle out as he let out a thoughtful hum. “Ever want to?” He seemed a bit hopeful, lips twitching upwards at the corners. He leaned his weight from side to side, swaying the bike back and forth. 

You pursed your lips, thinking about it. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared shitless of getting on something that offered such little protection, and at the same time, you didn’t even know this guy. Yet, something in your lizard brain made you nod and smile at him. 

He looked relieved, relaxing a bit as he nodded back and gestured down to his bike. “I can take you down the block and right back, if you want,” he offered, tilting his head a bit as he very clearly wished you’d say yes. 

“Sure,” you giggled, feeling your fingers twitch in anticipation and anxiety. It can’t be that bad, you told yourself, taking a deep breath. 

He flipped the kickstand and stood up, taking his first good look at your body. You flushed, but he only reached into the backpack that had been set behind him to fish out a leather jacket. He handed it to you, the scent of crisp, woodsy cologne filling your senses. He seemed a bit sheepish by your slightly confused expression. “Windchill,” he offered with another shy, half-hearted huff of a chuckle. 

How sweet, you cooed internally, smiling as you slipped on the oversized jacket. It was genuine leather and much warmer than your current choice of attire. Not to mention, his cologne smelled so damn good that you had to physically restrain yourself from taking a whiff right in front of him. He grabbed his helmet from the handlebars, motioning for you to step closer. 

He slipped it on your head, making sure to adjust it before he flipped the visor to look at your eyes. “Comfortable?” He asked, leaning back a bit. 

You flushed and nodded, taking a better look at his face now that he was a bit closer. You took note of the light beauty mark on the right side of his face, centered between his cheek and cupid’s bow and the darker mark below his Adam’s apple. God, he was so cute. 

“Good,” he smiled, moving to sit back on his bike. He shook his head slightly, swinging the golden fringe from his eyes before he held a gloved hand out for you. You took it, and he helped you climb on behind him. He grabbed his bag, tucking it in front of him before he leaned forward. Your arms were timid and loose as they wrapped around his torso, to which he tightened with a push of his own hand. “You’ll want to hold on tight,” he explained over his shoulder. “I won’t go too fast for you, but you don’t want to fly off, eithe.” 

He seemed so caring and sweet, it made your teeth hurt. You tightened your arms, feeling the ridges of his chiseled abdomen below the warm sweatshirt he wore. He patted your hand before kicking the stand back, inching the bike away from the rest of his friends and bystanders before he eased onto the throttle and accelerated down the parking lot towards the road. 

You squeaked, thighs tightening against the body of the bike as your arms gripped him tighter. You could feel a chuckle rumble through his back as your chest pressed against him. 

“I’ll go easy, I promise,” he reassured you once he’d stopped at the stop sign, looking both ways before he took off down the road. You could see why he’d given you the jacket once you were actually riding, feeling the wind whip against your body and through the open visor against your face. The cold bite was easy to get used to since his body blocked most of it for you. You’d never felt more free in your life, looking out at the streetlights and cars that passed by. He was driving so carefully, and it definitely melted your heart that he cared about your safety despite being a stranger. 

“Name’s Leon, by the way!” He had to call out over his shoulder for you to hear him over the engine and rushing breeze. “Forgot to introduce myself!” 

You called your name back to him with a giggle, high-pitched from the excitement. You leaned more into him, the curve of his helmet on your head bumping against his shoulder. “You can go faster!” 

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Leon flicked his hand downwards, pressing more onto the gas as the bike kicked into gear and took off down the highway. You squealed a bit, grinning ear to ear at how much fun you were having. 

He got to the end of the street, pulling into a parking lot before he looked back at you again. “Ready to go back?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Your lips curved upwards, and you shook your head. “No, not really.” 

His lips twitched into a smirk as he reached down, gripping your thigh before he patted it. “Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled before he sped out of the parking lot and back down the road. 

Maybe car meets weren’t so bad, after all. 


Tags
6 months ago
I’ve Fallen Into Rarepair Hell I Love Sanemitsu So Much
I’ve Fallen Into Rarepair Hell I Love Sanemitsu So Much

i’ve fallen into rarepair hell i love sanemitsu so much

6 months ago

my thigh kink cannot handle this rn

My Thigh Kink Cannot Handle This Rn
My Thigh Kink Cannot Handle This Rn
My Thigh Kink Cannot Handle This Rn
1 year ago
There’s Something About Seeing Big, Strong, Scary Copy Nin Kakashi On His Knees, Lapping Desperately
There’s Something About Seeing Big, Strong, Scary Copy Nin Kakashi On His Knees, Lapping Desperately
There’s Something About Seeing Big, Strong, Scary Copy Nin Kakashi On His Knees, Lapping Desperately

there’s something about seeing big, strong, scary copy nin kakashi on his knees, lapping desperately at your cunt that drives me crazy.

you weren’t expecting him to drop to his knees practically the second you both walked through your front door. one of his hands coming up to pull his mask down, the other pushing your dress up until it was pooling around your stomach, giving him the perfect view of the black thong you had on underneath.

he’s in so much of a hurry that he doesn’t even bother pulling them down your legs, instead, he takes one of your legs and lets it rest on his shoulder, two of his fingers pushing the thin material off to the side.

kakashi whines when your bare cunt is finally exposed, its high pitched and desperate, a sound that he’ll only ever allow you to hear slip past his lips. he pushes his face into your pussy, and takes a deep breathe, inhaling your intoxicating scent before his tongue is poking out from between his lips and he's licking a long stripe from your tight entrance all the way up to your puffy clit.

“mmm kashi—” you gasp when he places a soft kiss to your swollen nub, hands instantly tangling in his silver strands and giving an experimental tug. he’s hard as a rock, his thick cock remains ignored, straining against the fabric of his underwear, kakashi’s too busy trying to push his face deeper into your cunt to worry about himself right now.

"fuck baby, you taste so fucking good." he has to force his face away from your heat, gasping for air before he's diving right back in, tongue lapping at your clit over and over, warm and wet, and just the right amount of pressure that has the one leg your standing buckling under the pleasure that surges through your body.

he licks his way back down to your fluttering entrance, tentatively pushing his tongue into the tight hole.

"fuckkk kakashi— feels s'fucking good" you moan as you begin grinding your cunt harder against his face.

he lets the hand that’s not holding your panties to the side slip down to find his aching cock, palming himself over his pants to try and relieve some of the pressure from being ignored for so long.

kakashi lets his eyes flutter shut as he loses himself to the pleasure. he lets you guide your messy cunt back and forth against his tongue, lets you use him to chase the orgasm he knows is approaching.

long fingers fumble with the button on his pants, quickly undoing it and pushing them down enough to allow his cock to spring free, his long, fat dick slapping against his stomach.

he wraps his hand around the base, stroking himself slowly, trying not to cum to quickly, but the feeling of your clit against his tongue has him close already.

"gonna cum" you warn him. all he can do is moan in response, the ironclad grip you have on his hair preventing him from doing anything else.

it doesn't take long, seconds later your crying out, cumming on kakashi's tongue, coating his pretty face in your essence.

kakashi cums seconds later, fisting his cock hard and fast as he paints the floor beneath you white with his seed.

kakashi doesn't bother to warn you before he's picking you up bridal style and carrying you towards your bedroom, tossing you down gently on the bed.

"i'll clean that up later" he says as he crawls between your legs.

10 months ago

SHARED MY BODY AND MY MIND WITH YOU

SHARED MY BODY AND MY MIND WITH YOU

→ Leon broke up with you because of his emotional baggage, not wanting to drag you down into his trauma-induced misery. He didn’t usually date out of his line of work anyway, he hated himself for involving himself with someone so innocent. But when he gets a voicemail at an awfully late hour and listens to it, he nearly broke driving laws to get to your place. He still loves you, that much is certain. Your body and mind are like a second nature to him

CW: MDNI, fem!reader, pwp, one sided breakup, angst, description of leon’s self guilt and sabotage, heavy mentions of marriage, centered around Leon rather than the reader, reconciliation, lovemaking–gentle sex, crying, very small religious snippet, he eats you out, unprotected p in v, implied aftercare + implication of a better future

WC: 5.3k

Note: i think…this is my favorite fic that i’ve ever written. breaking my pink blog theme with this and actually capitalizing letters um…i had to set the tone okay. i actually started working on this in january to cope with some things, but i didn’t make much progress until recently!! the title’s a lyric from the song ‘cruel world’

BOT VERSION HERE MASTERLIST

SHARED MY BODY AND MY MIND WITH YOU

Leon has a rule: never get emotionally involved with anyone who isn’t in his line of work. The reason behind that is self-explanatory. It's too difficult to accomplish. All his baggage holds him down, and he’s always away for long periods at a time and then returns back with body aches all over and has to hibernate for a while. What does he truly have to offer?

He did it anyway.

You managed to romance him, granting him a fleeting glimpse of happiness and a chance at self-love. Lingering caresses, meaningful eye contact, soulful conversations, an audience to his jokes, the key to your heart — you gave him everything.

Breaking up with you was painful, the second it was all said and done and you were out of his sight, he broke down crying. That was what he deserved, that’s what his mind told him.

It was easy for Leon to disappear from your life, just as quick as the snap of his fingers. He was never around that much to begin with. Your efforts in reaching out to him were futile if he was halfway across the world dealing with another abrupt assignment, or if he fell back into the habit of nursing a drink in some run down bar without contacting a soul.

But no amount of alcohol could make him forget about you these days. The memories of you were too strong to be diluted.

“What about this one?” Curiosity had dripped from your question, your fingers gently feathered across the healed up scar on his left shoulder.

Leon was almost an open book when it came to you, he truly cherished honesty in any relationship, whether romantic or platonic. Guilt weighed on him for having to limit certain answers to only the surface details. It felt wrong; it felt like he was keeping secrets from you and keeping you in the dark. But it couldn’t be helped, not when you weren’t in the same line of work as him. Most of the contents of his work were confidential.

After all, at this point the two of you had only been dating for half a year. How could he burden your mind with the harsh realities of everything that wasn’t known by the general public?

The two of you were naked, tangled under the sheets. No sex or anything, simply getting familiar with each other’s bodies and exploring with gentle and cautious hands.

“1998, shot on duty.”

The memories were still fresh in his mind. People say that forgetting a traumatic event is common, people dissociate to cope and shield their brain. It was the opposite for Leon. All the screams plagued his mind like a damn mantra, no way in hell would he ever be able to forget anyone’s voice.

Either that, or his mind made up fantasies about what could’ve been between you both. Domestic bliss. Buying a house together. Shy talks about how many kids you guys wanted. The memories haunted him. He wanted it back.

He even bought a ring. A beautiful one that he was meant to display to you when he sunk onto one knee and popped the question that would hopefully bind the two of you for life. The one that he was supposed to fidget with whenever he held your hand as the two of you planned your wedding, whether it be simple, grand, or to elope.

He kept it safe even after he broke up with you, he couldn’t bear to throw it away because of the sliver of hope that maybe one day he’d still get the chance of putting it on your finger. He felt like a fool. Sometimes he opened the box up to reminisce. It tugged at his heartstrings when he saw how rough his own fingers were in comparison to the smooth metal, from his years of physical exhaustion and training. God, he wished your hands would never get all battered like his.

He thought about you so much that you were the star actress in his nightly dreams.

The worst ones were the nightmares, though. Like the one that had him turning in his sleep tonight.

It all replayed in his mind. Your facial expression when he broke up with you out of the blue — the way the smile on your face had faded into a frown, your glimmering eyes contorting into that of disheartened ones. The way you looked at him with such a concoction of emotions. The pitiful chuckle that escaped your lips along with a nervously spoken ‘what?’ Or maybe it was the prolonged silence afterwards that killed him. It felt like hours until he got a proper response from you, one that was drowned out by the drumming of his own heart and the pulse that formed in his ears.

Usually he got to the end of it, but tonight he was abruptly woken up by the sound of his phone ringing. A blessing in disguise, maybe. Regardless, he was a bit irritated, he had always been such a light sleeper.

“You’re kidding…” Leon let out a heavy sigh, trying to rub the sleep away from his eyes. He didn’t even want to answer, too tired to even think about the possibility of being called to the field. No way in hell did he want to be met with Hunnigan’s voice and some intel he didn’t feel like remembering.

He let the phone ring, and eventually, blissful silence filled the room again. If it was dire, he knew he’d get another call soon.

Instead, he heard his phone vibrate not long after. He muttered out a curse before reaching for his phone, seeing that a voicemail was left. He didn’t bother reading whose number it was. Christ, the message was 5:06 minutes long.

Whatever. He played it aloud, resting his forearm over his face as he listened in.

“Hey Leon, it’s me…”

Fuck.

He fully sat up on his bed, so quickly it could’ve given him whiplash.

“I miss you. Still think about you every day. I don’t know what I did wrong…you probably aren’t even listening to this. I just…I don’t know.” a sigh. “The clock hit 12 and um, well today’s the anniversary of the day you asked me out. Maybe you don’t remember. I think you do though, you were always good with dates.”

Leon knew the voice of a broken person when he heard it.

No. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to let you go and then you’d see how much life had to offer, how any other person could give you a better and more stable relationship.

How could you be hung up on a man like him?

It was instinctual. He shuffled out of bed, body reacting before his mind and reaching for a clean pair of clothes from his closet. He left the voicemail playing in the background, it filled his lonely house. His heart was racing so loudly he couldn’t even hear the sounds of the wind outside or the creak of the floor with every step. All he did was change and brush his teeth before he drove over to you.

Thankfully, the roads were empty and the highway was free of traffic or else surely he would’ve been pulled over.

Thinking rationally wasn’t necessary when it came to you, not when he just got punched in the gut with a load of nostalgia and gut wrenching heartbreak.

He has always been yours, even during the separation. His heart hammered within his ribcage when he pulled into your driveway, his body moving in a hurry out of his car and towards your door. No hesitation.

Knock, knock, knock.

Ten seconds felt like ten minutes, but eventually the door swung open.

Your pretty face filled the focus of his pupils, his expression softening. You looked like a deer in the headlights, gazing up at him with wide eyes.

Oh, my sweet girl. There she is.

His hands itched to reach for you, to hold you in his arms and spin you around, nuzzling his nose against yours like old times — like some romantic drama. He hadn’t watched one in a while, they reminded him too much of you. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

Leon's hair was messy. It was a sight you had seen many times: his bed hair. Those emotion carrying eyes of his were contrasted with the lifeless bags under them. He came over so damn quickly he hadn’t even taken the time to make himself look composed.

“Leon? What are you…” You couldn’t even finish your thoughts. You felt nothing yet so much at the same time, perhaps from the shock of it all. You brought two fingers to the pulse on your neck to make sure you were awake, and hadn’t somehow fallen asleep after your call and voicemail to him. The thundering pace of your pulse confirmed that you weren’t off in dream land.

“I got your voicemail,” He responded, sounding remorseful. “Had to make sure you were alright. Uh…can I come in?”

You continued staring at him like if he was some sort of supernatural being. If you reached your hand out to touch him, would he disappear? Or perhaps your limb would go straight through him as if he was transparent.

You snapped out of it and nodded. “Yeah, come on in.” Hesitation clouded your tone, not out of wariness but because you had no clue what the hell was going on. You hadn’t seen him in over a year, at least not in person, only through photos and videos you still had saved on your phone from when the two of you were dating (going through them was part of your nightly routine.)

“To be honest…I wasn’t expecting you to even hear my message.”

You stood there awkwardly as he entered, closing the door afterwards. Your apartment still smelled the same, a wave of comfort washed over him despite the circumstances, his eyes darting around at all your belongings. This was once his safe space, like his secret haven.

You sat on your couch, waving him over. Your legs felt like jelly, no way could you be standing for this. He followed, sitting on the couch cushion on the opposite side from you.

“My ringtone woke me up. I thought you were a coworker of mine at first but…I’m glad you weren’t.”

“Glad, really?”

“Yeah.” He gave no further context, at least for that minute.

Silence hung in the air, time became still. Either way, the shared glance between the two of you broke the tension, you were both thinking the same thing. Your minds were linked, seeking reconciliation, every circuit of neurons buzzing with your shared proximity.

He rested his elbows on his knees, running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit. Everything felt surreal, you couldn’t take your eyes off him, afraid he’d disappear.

“I’m…I’m sorry about the way I ended things.” There was a crack in his voice, he was so desperately clinging onto the ideology that he shouldn’t wear all his heart on his sleeve. He failed every time though, his words had wavered.

“I know.” You truly did.

“How?”

“Because I know you, Leon. It hurt, and I found myself wondering why you would just up and leave after what felt like such a meaningful time. But I didn't ever think you did it with mal intent.”

You should be demanding answers, hell, he could even take a few slaps to the face. Maybe his guilt ridden self preferred that to your sweet treatment. Did he even deserve to be met with your understanding? This self-pitying mindset he harbored is what had led to this in the first place.

“You’re right. I didn’t mean to hurt you, that’s the last thing I wanted to do.” Were his efforts in explaining himself getting across? “I thought it was better this way. I'm…broken.”

Trying to convince him that he isn’t ‘broken’ was futile, all you could do was beautify it instead. You scooted closer to him, clasping one of his hands between yours. “All you see are your faults, but I was seeing you entirely, not just for what you do in your job or the images that keep you up at night.”

His hands felt the same. Calloused in areas he couldn’t help like his knuckles and his palms, but well-kept in the nail department. He looked down at the physical contact, putting his other hand atop yours, his thumb grazing tenderly at your skin. Familiar territory.

“It’s hard not to.” He admitted, his eyes feeling glossy all of a sudden. “My job is my life, it drags into every other part of my life.”

“How did it drag into our relationship?”

He truly didn’t know how to answer that. The times he shared with you were the best experiences of his life. He finally got the chance to pull out his cardboard box full of romantic movies to watch with the lover he had been waiting for his whole life, you. Countless nights spent cooking together in your kitchen, full of laughter and playful bickering, and some harmless food fights. Grocery shopping together with laced fingers, just a sneak peek into domesticity. God, he yearned for its return.

“I don’t know. I constantly had to leave and got no vacation time either. Let’s see…I had to keep a lot of information confidential. It kinda screams ‘this’ll all make a girl run the other way.’”

How wrong he was, he ended up leaving before he could get abandoned, as if that would’ve happened, though, you never wanted him out of your life.

“That wasn’t true for me, Leon. I wanted to be with you. I just hope I wasn’t a burden on you.”

That hurt. A dull ache spread across his chest. He pulled you close, tucking you against his side.

“Don’t say that,” His instruction was soft spoken, his lips brushed against your cheek. You were never a burden, he always shut you out, thinking that his heart was full of thorns and you’d prick yourself if he let you get too close. That, perhaps his sorrow was contagious and his poison would flood your veins.

Words of comfort weren’t his strong suit, but he tried his best. He had to. “You weren’t a burden. Never were, and never will be, okay?”

It felt so good to have you against him, his gaze was set on you, searching for any indicator that you were uncomfortable. You leaned your shoulder against his shoulder though, nuzzling against him. Pensive silence followed.

Even with the somber undertones filling your apartment, your heart was bursting. He was here, back with you. Holding you like he used to do after you had a particularly stressful day at work, or when you had an argument with one of your close ones.

The long separation made familiar carnal desires spark to life, along with the itch to bring them to fruition.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You murmured to him, but your wavering voice caught his instant attention.

You were on the verge of tears, oh dear. If you started sobbing, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hold back from crying either.

Leon didn’t waste a second, pulling you onto his lap, one of his hands stroking the back of your head, his other arm wrapping around your back.

“What are you thinking about?” He needed to know. You had always been the most verbal, whereas his feelings usually showed on his face or body language.

“About how much I missed you.” You respond, running your hands up and down his arms, squeezing at his muscles. “And how unreal this feels. And…” Your eyes flicker down to his lips. “I wanna kiss you, Leon…and y’know.” Make love. “Like old times.”

Oh.

“Are you sure?” Leon hadn’t intended for the night to play out this way. He needed to make sure you were actually thinking straight with the pool of emotions you seemed to be drowning in. To be fair, he was drowning too.

It was midnight, your bodies burned for one another.

“I am.” You uttered those words with such finality, eyes set on him.

This wasn’t some impromptu longing for his physical connection, you had been craving it for as long as the two of you had been separated. To feel him in the purest and most tender way possible, nestled against one another and eliciting feelings no one else could.

The pads of his thumbs rub circles against the fat of your hips. He's looking up at you, his eyes are unable to hide a flicker of yearning and affection. Expressive, his pupils dilated and his eyebrows slightly raised. He blinked slowly, like a cat showing utmost trust to its owner.

He looks at you like he worships you (he does.) Get him on his hands and knees, he’ll mumble your name like you’re his god and he’s praying to you, all his sins out in the open and his scarred body for you to look over and judge. He’ll be vulnerable with you if that means you’ll forgive his wrongdoings and give him a second chance. You must be a merciful god, no doubt about it.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You murmured, cupping his face. His gaze was hypnotic, sending a wave of security down your body. It almost felt as if you traveled to the time before he shattered your heart into pieces of glass.

“Like what?” He couldn’t help it. Not like he had a mirror, anyway. His face was usually tense, brows permanently furrowed and eyes narrowed from being attentive all the fucking time, his lips a straight line, jaw anything but relaxed.

Not right now, though. Never with you. Everything in his body softened and loosened up around you. Well, with the exception of his dick but that was another matter.

“You know what I mean. Like…like you still love me.”

Leon didn’t know what to say. The words died in his throat while every fiber of his being wanted to say ‘I do.’ The same words he could’ve voiced out standing across the altar from you. His brain short-circuited.

His pause came across as ambiguous to you, to mask the pain, you kissed him. Like a chocolate on a hot summer day, he melted in an instant, turning to mush, holding one side of your jaw and matching your pace.

The two of you mingled like two puzzle pieces. Your chest was flush against his, one of your hands finding his hair and pulling on it, earning a drawn out groan from him. It went slow for the first five minutes, some occasional pull backs for breath, shy smiles in betweens, before going back in like the act of kissing was needed for your pulses to continue, your hearts beating as one.

“Mmph.” Your whimper made him shudder, oh how he had missed that noise. His other hand got a bit more confident, resting on the small of your back, moving up towards your ribs then back down, almost resting on your ass.

He felt a surge of heat settle in his groin, aching to give you all the pleasure you deserved, to make you feel cherished and known. To knock any misery out of your head and replace it with euphoric sparks and reassurance. To be one with you again, if you’d have him.

He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes fluttering open. “Bedroom?”

A nod from you was all it took. He didn’t let you get up, instead holding your ass as he stood up, his lips back on yours as he carried you to your bedroom like he owned the place. His mind still had the spatial layout, it worked out and he eventually placed you onto the middle of the bed oh so delicately.

You knew what was coming, already taking your clothes off in a haste as you heard his belt come undone, the sound of his taking his shirt off, and his boots being kicked off.

It wasn’t long until he was on you again.

Leon took his time to look at your body. He was all too familiar with it, knowing exactly where certain beauty marks were, or the places that were sensitive to even the slightest fan of his breath. His fingertips ghosted over your sides, sucking in a sharp inhale as his eyes roamed all over, studying you as if you were his muse and he was about to draw you. “So beautiful…”

His lips had traveled all across you once upon a time. Leon had a great memory, perhaps one of his best features, though also his downfall. At times like these, it comes in handy. It almost seemed like a hazy flashback to the nights he had you splayed on the bed, pressing his lips against your forehead and making it all the way to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He wanted to mimic the memory. “Need to taste you. Can I?”

“God, yes.” You agreed in a heartbeat, body already feeling all tingly at the anticipation.

He littered open mouthed kisses from the middle of your chest, all the way down to your end of your stomach, making your body ignite with flames and mind flood with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. What day was it? Month? Year? You couldn’t remember, just desperately hoping this wasn’t some realistic feeling dream. You’ve had those too often, and if you woke up without him by your side, you felt like you would die from heartbreak.

He hooked his arms underneath your thighs to pull you close. His fingers dug into your thighs as he took another look at his favorite pretty cunt. He missed this. Missed you. Missed having you grind yourself against his face until he couldn’t breathe. Missed having his heart race from the angelic noises you blessed his ears with.

His nose pressed against your clit, applying light pressure as his tongue lapped at your slit, gathering the dew there. Geez, he really got right into it. Your eyes rolled back, your stomach tensing and your back arching. You could die right now by your (ex) lover’s tongue, what a way to go.

On the occasion that he opened his eyes, he’d look up at you through his light lashes — he swore you looked like an angel from his perspective.

“What is this? Your last meal on death row?” You were joking, but god…he really was making your mind go blank, he knew just all the right buttons to press.

“Oh, so you think I’m a criminal?”

Like always, you reached for his hair, pushing it back and hearing him growl out of contentment. He gave your clit gentle sucks before flattening his tongue against it and flicking it, his head moving side to side, repeating the process again and again.

One thing about Leon? He always found a way to turn you on by being vocal. His noises were muffled and sloppy but you could feel the vibration of all his whimpers and growls against you as he took his time eating you out. He was getting off to pleasuring you, and that fact alone made it so much hotter.

Your thighs were trembling, threatening to close in and squeeze his head. Leon placed one of his hands over your lower abdomen, applying light pressure with his palm and coaxing you into your orgasm.

It didn’t take you long to get there, you hadn’t felt a tongue on you in ages, he was your last.

“Leon, I’m—“

He already knew.

“That’s it, make a mess all over my face.” It sounded like a demand but instead it came across as a pitiful and desperate plea.

How many times had he been in this position? Lying on his stomach, your taste on his tongue, chin dripping with his drool and your wetness, feeling your body trembling…he couldn’t even count how many. But it was enough for him to know your body like no other.

He kept going even after your thighs started squeezing in on him, even with the way you unintentionally tugged at his hair enough to have him rutting against your sheets. He made sure to make your orgasm feel good, lapping at you all throughout until he heard a whine leave your lips and he felt you weakly push his head away — he didn’t want to overstimulate you and hurt you.

He finally took a breath, one that filled his lungs with satisfaction as he propped himself up on his elbows before sitting up. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling his blood pump south with the way you were still composing yourself, your legs twitching all cutely and your torso rising and sinking with each deep breath you attempted to take.

“Do you wanna…” Your eyes flitted down to the prominent tent in his pants, feeling a stirring in your stomach already.

“Do you?”

“Yeah. I mean…only if you want to.”

With his belt already in some corner of the room and his fly down, all that was left was discarding his pants and boxers down. He fished his wallet out and pulled a packet from it before doing so.

You were too distracted eyeing his now exposed dick, gulping. It had been a while. But a certain wrapper noise caught your attention. A condom. You had always been careful with him in the past, but you wanted him inside him without any barriers. To feel him entirely, his skin against your insides.

“Don’t, please?”

“But–“

“I need to feel you, Leon.”

“Already being a bad influence on me? What am I gonna do with you?” His jest was met with your roll of eyes, but the corners of your eyes crinkled, happy he was already comfortable enough to bicker a bit.

He pet your head, gazing fondly at you as he awaited your response.

“I just want to feel you as close as possible. I don't know how to explain it. You can pull out at the end…I dunno.”

You didn’t need to explain further, because he felt the same. He kissed your forehead, whispering “okay.”

Getting in between you and in position for missionary, he continued peppering kisses all over your face. He couldn’t hold back, he had so much to make up for, he owed you at least a thousand more. He pushed into you, a breathy moan leaving his lips, it felt like he had just entered the pearly gates. And the way your jaw hung open in a silent gasp told him you felt the same.

“You alright?”

“Mhm, keep going.”

“God, I missed you…” His thrusts made the bed creak, adding to the assortment of sounds of two bodies joined as one: skin against skin, high pitched gasps and occasional throaty groans, nails scratching against Leon’s back and leaving red marks in their wake, a subtle noise, but there nonetheless.

“Yeah? How much?”

“Too much. Could never get you outta my mind.” He admitted, burying his head against your neck to leave open-mouthed kisses all over, smiling when he felt you squirming. “Dreamt about you every night. Every…every morning I woke up, I thought you’d still be by my side.”

His response knocked the breath out of you, God if you could have him closer than physically possible, you would. This was the closest you’d be though, his tip hitting your g-spot, his body flush against yours, it was just the two of you in this never ending universe.

“Leon…Leon…fuck.” You called for him like you needed him to prevent you from crumbling.

He pinned one of your hands to the side of your head and laced his fingers between yours, his head remaining against your other side, raspy grunts and incoherent praises rumbling against your ear. He gently bit your earlobe, tugging at it and sending a shiver down your spine.

Despite all his self doubts, Leon knew how to love, how to send another person to cloud nine and make their head fuzzy with sheer euphoria. He wasn’t fucking you, he was loving you, there’s a clear difference.

His lips trailed to your jawline, eventually reaching your lips and initiating an uncoordinated make out session, the sound of dazed out whimpers and quiet growls mixing together perfectly.

He was getting there, his pace more erratic than before, his hand squeezing yours tightly. “You’re so pretty.” He mumbled against your lips, speaking in between rushed pecks. “Prettiest girl in the world.”

You managed to smile at that. “Yeah? Well you’re the prettiest boy in the world.”

You could’ve said handsome. Or hot. Or cute. But Leon was pretty, that was always the first thing that came to your mind. He was like a model, surely some agency would have tried to recruit him if he were actually in broad daylight more.

“Mm.” He liked the compliment. No more words were exchanged after that, he was focused on feeling you. Feeling the way you took all of him like it was nothing, clearly the two of you were physically made for one another.

There was no going back from this, Leon couldn’t bear the thought of getting a taste of happiness yet again and then falling back into a hopeless pit. He wouldn’t push you away again.

You were already sensitive from the way he had made you cum on his face earlier. You pulled away from his kisses, your head thrashing side to side against the pillow instead, your hips desperately bucking to meet his.

“Leon…”

“Just let go for me, you can do it.”

Moans ripped from your throat, your nails leaving crescent indents on his skin as your body writhed underneath him. Leon couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you came, his own stomach feeling tighter and tighter until he followed suit.

“I love you.” He let it slip at the very end, his mind too dazed and his emotions for you running at full blast. You would’ve replied if not for the way you were in awe, watching the way his eyebrows furrowed, his head tilted back, his mouth let out the raspiest grunts as he pulled out and came. Fuck, he couldn’t be real.

It was only then that Leon’s head cleared. He felt his heart sink to his stomach, had he said something wrong? The moment died down, he felt uncertain about how you’d react. Regardless, Leon took a moment to admire you in your flushed state before leaning down to kiss your head, then lying down beside you and pulling you to his side.

You were all dazed with his confession lingering in your head.

He still loved you. Maybe it was obvious, but hearing it aloud was a completely different feeling.

All the suppressed emotions between the two of you were being put on the spotlight. Your eyes brimmed with unshed tears, you tried to blink them away, but you failed.

Leon wished your eyes hadn’t gotten glossy and that your lips hadn’t tugged into a small frown. It made his heart physically ache. Heavy hearted, that’s what he felt like, swallowing to try to alleviate just how sore his throat felt all of a sudden. Guilt bubbled in his stomach because he knew he was the source of your tears.

He kissed away your tears, welcoming the salty taste of them.

He couldn’t tell you not to cry, he wasn’t in the position to. All he could do was reassure you instead, curling his hand into a fist before rubbing soothing circles onto your back as he watched you curl against him.

“Hey…”

“Sorry. I didn't mean to start crying. I just…you still love me? Did you mean that?”

“It’s okay. Just let it out, I'm here for you.” He had your head tucked underneath his chin. “And yeah…I never stopped.”

“I love you too.”

He wasn’t leaving this time.

Maybe that ring he held onto would find its true owner soon.

You, his sweet girl.

1 year ago

EMPTY

I'LL ALWAYS BE BY YOUR SIDE

Gojo x reader Nanami x reader

MASTERLIST

<-previous next->

CW: cheating, mentions of pregnancy, angst, suggestive language, tell me anything else I missed!

AUTHORS NOTE**

I know I promised to post and it's pretty late (10:04pm in Texas lol) but here we are! Enjoy today's chapter!

(Interactions (especially comments) are appreciated)

EMPTY

Gojo has no clue what’s going on right now, he’s absolutely wasted. The party ended early for some reason. He’d already sent Kira home, wanting her to get some rest. Now, in the empty venue, you’re nowhere to be found and he’s getting yelled at by his friends. “Where’s Y/n?”

SLAP

Shoko slapped him across the face, “Do you not feel any guilt,” she cries out, “the woman you were supposed to marry, who wasted years of her life on someone as worthless as you.” He looked towards Getou, who wasn’t going to bail him out this time, but joined in. “You invited the woman you cheated on her with to your engagement party,” Getou starts quietly, “I didn’t invite her,” Gojo retorts. “THAT DOESN’T MAKE IT ANY BETTER,” Getou yells, taking even Shoko by surprise, “when did you become such a terrible person Satoru? When did you stop caring about how she felt? When did you start ripping her apart without a care in the world?”

“But what are you talking about, what happened with her,” Gojo questions, honestly lost.

“She saw,” Shoko whispered, “She saw you and that woman.” Shoko shakes her head slowly, “I’ve never seen her so lost and broken.” Gojo stares at the ground, “How much did she see? What did she see?” He raises his head, looking his friends in the eye, worry and regret. ”Is she okay?” Shoko and Getou look at eachother, a silent agreement being formed between the two. Shoko gathers her things and heads towards the exit, Getou following in suit. “Where are you guys going?” Gojo yells after the two, receiving no response as the doors close.

EMPTY

It’s silent as you ride to your shared apartment with Nanami, your tears dried up. “Where here,” Nanami motions towards your apartment complex, “I’m going with you.” Nanami gently places his hand on your thigh, eyes softly looking into yours. You turn your head towards the large, bright apartment complex, a place you once called home. “Alright,” you smile softly, “let’s go.”

You unlock the door, stuck at the doorway, staring into your cold “home”. You feel Nanami’s warm hand gently nudging you inside, “I’m here.”

“I’m here.”

Hearing those words makes you want to cry even more. “Go get your things, I’ll wait here,” Nanami takes a seat on one of your island barstools. You look back staring for a moment before you turn away. You look around your bedroom, hand gliding over the surfaces. You pull out a suitcase from under your bed, unzipping it slowly, painfully. You flip it open, staring into the empty box.

Anger.

You kick the leg of your bed frame repeatedly, your soul crying. Years wasted, thrown away. You hear footsteps make their way towards the door, but you're too deep in your thoughts to react. “Hey,” Nanami takes your hand in his, worry etched on his face. You don’t look at him, you can’t, you won’t. You turn away and head towards your closet, taking everything and anything you can. You don’t want to leave anything behind, you don’t want to come back.

Nanami watches you pack your things. He wished, prayed that you’d be his one day, but after watching you be in so much pain, he can’t help but feel guilty. His eyes widen as you start sniffling, his arms wrapping around you to slow you down. “Breath,” his arms tighten around you, “it’s okay, breath.” You can’t. You can’t breathe. No matter how hard you try, it’s too hard. Your hand grabs at his clothes as you bury yourself into his chest.

Why does it hurt so much?

Is this supposed to hurt so much?

“I need to pack more clothes,” you break from his embrace and move towards your dresser.

EMPTY

Gojo’s hand grips the steering wheel tightly as he speeds through the streets. He needs to get to you, he needs to explain. He knows that he was in the wrong, That what he did was bad, but he couldn’t help it. He can fix it, he will. He messily parks his car and stumbles out, still a little tipsy from the party. He runs to the elevator, pressing your floor, wishit it’d go faster. His heart is in his throat, his head is pounding, and through all the worry and anxiety he can still only think about you.

He unlocks your apartment door…

“Hey,” he freezes, “who’s that?” He stops at the scene in front of him, eyes wide. You are with a man who he doesn't know in his apartment, a suitcase in your hand and a suitcase in the mans. “Is that really the first thing you say to me,” you breathe out, “after everything that has happened tonight that’s the first thing you say to me.” You take a step forward, your finger digging into his chest, “You do this to me and you're worried about who I’m with right now?”

The man places his hand on yours and pulls you back, in a flash Gojo’s hand fists the man's collar, wrinkling the shirt in his grasp, “Get your hands off her.” “Nanami-” He cuts you off, “You call me a cheater but you're hanging around with some guy who you’ve never even mentioned to me!” You pull his hand off of Nanami’s collar, “What you did and what I’m doing are two completely different things! You slept with another woman at our engagement party, I have a friend, someone who I trust, helping me and you say we're the same. WE COULD NEVER BE THE SAME!”

Nanami knows that this argument isn’t his place, it’ll never be, but he wants to step in and defend you, he wants to protect you. He knows you don’t need it, so he'll trust you, and let you fight your own battle. “Do you want me to be honest,” Gojo straightens his posture, “do you want me to start brom the beginning?”

The beginning?

There’s a beginning?

You inhale a sharp, quick breath, “There’s a beginning?” Gojo motions towards the couch, “Let’s take a seat first,” he places his hand on your lower back, you pull away, he doesn’t mind. He glares at Nanami as he walks by, “Know your place” he signals with his eyes. “Y/n,” Nanami calls out to you, you walk over to him, “do you want me to take your things to the car or stay with you?” “Stay,” you say with no hesitation, “don’t leave.”

You take a seat on the couch, keeping your distance from Gojo. “6 months, she’s 6 months pregnant. You can’t expect me to leak her when she’s 6 months pregnant with my child.” Your world falls, 6 months, he slept with that woman for 6 months. “So while you were with me you were also sleeping with her,” you bury your face in your hands, “I rarely slept with her, before this we only slept together a few times.” He knows he’ll probably lose you, but he still wants to salvage what he can.

“She’s pregnant,” he starts, “you’ve got to understand that she’s pregnant and still needs me.” “Go fuck yourself,” you scowl and get up from the couch, throwing your ring at his chest. You're done with this, and you're done with him. “Y/n,” he follows behind you and grabs your wrist, “You can’t leave, I need you!” Nanami separates Gojo’s hand from your wrist, glaring at him. “You didn’t need me when you slept with her,” tears began to rush down your cheeks, “you didn’t need to be when you got her pregnant!” You turn away, suitcase in hand and exit the apartment.

Gojo yells out for you to come back, but you don’t.

And you never will.

EMPTY

Nanami loads your suitcases in the back of his car, closing the trunk door then sitting in his seat. The two of you sit in silence.

Nothing.

There’s nothing here anymore.

You realize that there’s nothing here for you anymore. There's nothing in that cruel apartment with that cruel man, there's nothing in that elevator where you used to sneakily make out, there’s nothing in your heart. “Nanami,” you whimper, reaching out for him, and as usual, he’s there. For the millionth time that night he holds you in his embrace, but for the first time, he buries his head in your hair and kisses your head.

“Don’t cry anymore,” he kisses your head again, “he’s not worth it.” Those words make you cry even more, “I’ll always be here for you, no matter what happens, no matter what you do, I’ll always be here, on your side.” Nanami holds you impossibly close, “So please stop crying.” He slowly lets you go, taking your face in his hands and gently wiping your tears away. “Are you ready to go?” “Yes,” you giggle and smile, feeling a little bit better.

Nanami takes you to his apartment, “You can take a shower first, call me if you need anything.” Nanami points towards the bathroom and goes to his office. You take a moment to look around, ‘This is Nanami’ you think. You take the half empty bottle of whiskey in your hand, caressing the glass bottle it lays in. You sigh softly and grab some clothes, ready to wash the night away.

You turn on the shower, first letting the steam fill the room, when you go to undress yourself you run into a problem, you can't unzip the dress. You turn off the water and leave the bathroom, making your way towards Nanami’s office. As you open the door you meet Nanami’s gaze, “Do you need something?” “I can’t unzip the dress” You both stare at each other. Nanami gets up from his seat and slowly walks towards you, “Let’s go to the bathroom.” You stay behind him as he leads you towards the bathroom. He opens the door and motions for you to head inside.

You stand in front of the mirror, watching as Nanami steps behind you, his hands softly resting on your shoulders. You watch his gaze as he looks down at you, not being able to decipher its meaning. The tips of his ears turn red as he slowly begins to unzip your dress, “Nanami,” he sums softly, meeting your eyes in the mirror, “kiss me.” You turn to face him, looking at him with your beautiful eyes, that he can never seem to escape from, he lowers his head slightly, then you lean forward, your lips a few centimeters away.

Nanami abruptly pulled back, “You're not in the right state of mind right now, If you want to do something like this I’d rather it be when you're not still shaken up. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.” He swiftly unzips your dress and exits the bathroom, leaving you to your thoughts.

EMPTY

You snack on some chips you found in Nana's pantry as you wait for him to leave his bedroom. Your mind can’t stop thinking about the scene that just occurred, you wanted to, you know you wanted to, you always have, you know Nanami wants to too, but you can see where he’s coming from. “Hey,” Nanami walks towards you, his hair still messy and wet from his shower, a towel hanging around his neck, “you can sleep in the bedroom, I’ll take the couch.”

“Will you sleep with me, I don’t want to be alone,” you watched Nanami’s face contort, “You can sleep on the bed and ill put some pillows between us, or i’ll sleep on the floor, I just don't want to be alone.” You honestly don’t want to be alone, thoughts of Gojo still in your mind, but you can’t deny that there’s an underlying purpose in what you're asking Nanami.

What you could’ve had.

What you want.

It’s right in front of you, only a fool wouldn’t grab the opportunity. “Okay,” Nanami says monotonously, drying his hair as he walks towards his bedroom. You smile. For the first time in a while you smile. You quickly put the chips away and rush after him. You lie down and watch Nanami place pillows between the two of you, leaving a little space where your heads were so you could see each other. You reach through the space and tap his nose, “Thank you,” you smile, closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep.

Nanami pauses.

He knocks the pillows separating you aside and pulls you close, holding you tight against his chest, “I said I'd alway be here for you right?” Your eyes shoot open at the sudden movement, looking up at him, tears threaten to spill from your eyes.

With a smile you snuggle closer to him, your struggles are whisked away by his warmth, and you calmly fall asleep.

EMPTY

TAG LIST:

@kiwifujin @soda-rin @roseycottage @shuxjodie @aeanya @reapersimps @shaylove418 @voldimir @brumous11 @stillintheupsidedown @onyxvoid @littlemochi @hiqhkey @emiliangnl @pyschopotatomeme @kiwibao @arievir @wonderpals02

AUTHORS NOTE:

I ❤️ Nanami

MASTERLIST

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1 year ago

Sanemi the type to really like cockwarming.

Like really love it on an intimate level.

But lazy cockwarming is his favourite.

When he's too tired to make love to your precious body and soul. He'll sink you on his cock and have you lay on his chest, thick dick stuffing you full as he strokes your hair, asking about your day or chatting about the story you read. At some point, he'll start to rub circles against your sensitive clit, still talking to you as your walls start spasming around his cock - it's enough to get both of you to cum.

Then he'll just kiss you sweetly before drifting off to sleep.

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