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petrichoravis · 2 months ago

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But you peeked right over somehow | s.r

summery: your disbelief in love has always held you back from a relationship with Spencer, but you think it's time to be brave now.

word count: 2k

warnings: reader is avoidant and makes some weird decisions, but, like, be nice to her please, she's scared; mentions of avoidant attachment style, toxic relationships (someone having made r feel stupid and worthless in the past) and of parents fighting, but nothing detailed; reader is also mentioned to be drunk once, but it’s in past tense and it’s really just the word mentioned. English is not my first language.

a/n: the pictures are obviously no indication of how reader looks, they are just there to make this all look pretty and aesthetically pleasing. I've tried my best not to describe any physical appearance of reader. reader means a lot to me, I hope you’ll like her. Also, the gorgeous!! dividers are not mine, all credits to @/enchanthings-a on tumblr. The title is from 'circling' by tiny habits

You didn't believe in love—not the one in the movies, anyway. Your sad attempts at it have always ended with you feeling lonelier than before and your parents… well, let's just say they're not the best example either. So you built the walls higher and higher, placing brick upon brick, so no one would be able to look over them.

Until you met Spencer.

He has nested himself between the bricks like wisteria and has been so impossibly stubborn, but so kind about it, too. Never asking for more than the few fleeting moments you had. To the point were you weren't even sure if you wanted to rid yourself of him anymore.

You had met him at a reading of your favourite book a few years ago. You had forgotten your book on your seat and he had ran out and handed it back to you, a white piece of paper with messy handwriting in black ink slipped in between the pages. I like your taste in books, maybe you could recommend me some:). it had said, with his number on the bottom.

You had been friends for a while after that, because you always blocked his attempts of turning what you had into more.

Until one drunken mistake on your side turned into two and the two of you decided that: friends kiss, right? (Well, you decided it, Spencer was just happy to go along with whatever you were most comfortable with.)

For a while you convinced yourself that whatever you were feeling—the butterflies in your stomach, the way your heart was racing every time he touched you—was just lust. It was easier than admitting that you were falling hopelessly in love with him.

So when you woke up this morning, in your bed with him sleeping next to you, you couldn't help but watch him. The way the soft morning light, shining through the silk curtains, drew shapes onto his skin, the way his brown curls framed his face. You just hardly resisted the urge to reach out and touch him, your hand curling into a fist so hard that your nails dug half-moon shapes into your palm.

You got up after a few moments. Quietly, so you wouldn’t wake him. He landed in Virginia late after a case, but still decided to come over to your apartment, because he had forgotten something there. You ended up, self-sabotagingly, inviting him to stay the night and now you were here; with an angel in your bed and a devil on your shoulder.

You tip-toed into your kitchen, finally being able to breathe a little louder. Leaning onto the counter, hanging your head, you felt pathetic. This wasn't how things go for you, normally. You didn't pine and, even worse, yearn (you gagged at just the thought) for men like you were right now.

Then again, Spencer was far from normal.

And because of that, your heart was racing and you caught yourself, more often than not, at the bookstore in the classic section, asking yourself if Spencer had that copy of war and peace already. He probably did.

You scoff at yourself. Maybe you just needed to go to the club again. Cleanse yourself of this feeling. Forget about him and his stupid brown eyes, the way his hands feel when they— Stop.

"Are you okay?" A sleepy voice asks from the doorway.

You turn slowly. Spencer was still in his oversized gray sleep shirt, the fabric worn-out and thin. His hair a mess of brown, soft curls. God, get it together.

"Yeah," you mumble, "just…headaches."

He steps closer, careful, as if not to startle you. "Do you need anything? Ibuprofen?"

"No, I'm okay. Thank you."

He nods, but his eyes search your face. It’s clear that he knows something is off—he's a profiler, after all. He smoothes his hand over your wooden counter top and you wish so badly that those calloused hands were running over your skin instead.

"Breakfast?" You croak, already turning around and rummaging the cabinets for two mugs.

A hand finds your wrist, turning you around with a gentleness you're not sure you deserve. You pull away quickly, as if his touch burned you.

He frowns a little, but doesn't comment on it. "I'd love breakfast," he pauses, "Can you talk to me? Please?"

His idiotically big puppy-dog eyes and the way his hand feels on your skin makes you want to kiss him stupid.

So you do, impulsively. Kissing him was so much better than answering his questions and he might forget, as a good side affect—

Spencer pushed against your shoulders gently, untangling your lips from another after indulging for a short second—he was just a man, after all.

He knew that you were only kissing him to distract from the topic at hand and he also knew, that he would forget about this conversation too quickly if he let you.

"Not that I don't love kissing you, but something is bothering you and I want to understand what it is. So can you please talk to me?"

"About what?" You try and he looks at you, disbelieving.

"Come on—" he says your name, and it's so soft, "You've always been careful with the idea of an relationship with me, but it's been getting worse. You tense up every time I touch you and tip-toe around me. I just want to know if I did something to upset you. I want to fix it."

Your skin is crawling with his rejection of the kiss and you can't help the words of defensiveness bursting out of you. "You can't always fix everything, Spencer. I'm not just another case to solve."

Spencer doesn’t even flinch. "I know you're not. I'm sorry, my wording was off. I know something happened to you in the past and you need it slow and that's okay. I never pushed and I'm not pushing right now, but I want to understand what it is, what's going on in your head."

He was being so, so kind. You felt like crying. "Nothing! Nothing is going on in my head, just—" You feel like an animal in a cage, ready to chew off your foot to get out of the trap.

Spencer lets his hands drop from your shoulder to his side again, knowing you well enough to know that touch may not be comforting to you right now.

The gesture grounds you, reminds you that you are talking to kind, gentle Spencer, that he is only worried about you. So you try to reel back, trying your best to be just as kind, to be deserving of him. But you're a viper full of venom and you're sure you might never be able to purge it from your body enough to ever deserve him.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, looking down at your miss-matched socks.

"It's okay. I understand." He's not sure what to do. An aggressive UnSub was nothing in comparison to you being uncomfortable and him being unable to help. "We don't have to talk about it. We can eat breakfast and I'll tell you about the stars again."

His lips quirk a little as you laugh, even if it was just the smallest sound, it was something.

"No, it's okay. I—" You have been knocking on Spencer's door and running away before he could welcome you in for too long. You have decided that you're ready to pass the doorstep now.

Your therapist has advised you to get out of comfort zone more, anyway, and if Spencer leaves after this conversation, at least you can go back to not believing in love. "I figured I had to tell you at some point. If I really wanted this to be a thing."

You gesture between the two of you at the last part, voice dropping to a quieter tone and you look up at him though your lashes without lifting your head.

He looks surprised. That's okay. You'll just laugh and pretend it was a joke—

"Yeah," he steps closer, brushing hair out of your face, "if that's what you want. I’m not forcing you to."

"I know you're not." You sigh, closing your eyes as his fingertips brush against your jaw. "Truth is, nothing really happened. I guess I've just had rotten luck in love."

The hair tie you're wearing on your wrist is suddenly so interesting and you chew on your lip to have something to do with your mouth, otherwise you'd just blurt out everything he wants to know.

"My parents have been fighting more than they haven't since I've been really young. Nothing too bad, but it was obvious that they weren't in love. I doubt they ever were."

Spencer doesn't say anything, choosing to let you finish without comment. He knows what's coming, he's been through it, too. Parents who fight, relationships that fail, never feeling loved in the way the movies show you. It can make you feel hopeless.

"I was a late bloomer, I guess. I've had my first relationship at twenty-two. Not that I cared, I had convinced myself that I didn't want love at that point, anyway. So when I did find it… I was elated. I thought, yes! finally it's my turn. Well, they hurt me quite badly, made me feel bad for everything that I didn't know, like—like they were better than me. Maybe they were, I don't know, it doesn't matter."

Ouch. Spencer thought. No one deserves that. Much less you. His hands find your wrist again and his thumb slides over your pulse point.

"They're not." He says with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe him. "Someone who makes people feel bad for trying to learn things is not, in any way, better than the person who is trying."

You shake your head. "No, it's okay. I— yeah. It's whatever. It just hurt in that moment."

You do that a lot, Spencer notes, pushing your feelings onto your past-self like they don't affect you now, when he knows they do. Or else you wouldn't be here.

"I did go on a few date after that," you continue after a short pause, "but I kept myself locked away pretty tightly. Never let it go further than the third date. A few years later, when I let someone else in, it got quite toxic, quite quickly. From both sides. We were dependent and avoidant at the same time. They were just…they showed me off a lot and were so gentle and kind, but I realised after a while that it was just their way of making sure I stayed. And I…I started feeling trapped and accused them of some pretty messed up stuff. We didn't make it really far after that."

Tears start building on your lash line and you look at the ceiling, begging them to stay buried. That was your tell, Spencer knew it too well. He brushed his thumb under your eyes.

"You don't have to." He murmurs.

"I'm almost done." You promise and look at him for the first time since you started the story. "I didn't have any serious relationships after that, just…harmless flirting, but I was too scared to let myself fall again. I never felt loved enough, I guess…or I was just selfish and greedy."

Spencer shakes his head. "You deserve the love you want." Ducking his head, he makes sure you're looking at him. "That's not selfish."

"I think I did." You whisper with the shyness of a high-school kid, eyes searching between his. "Find it, I mean."

The corners of Spencer's mouth lift into his wonderful smile and for once in your life you know you've said the right thing.

"Lucky me." He answers, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, pulling you against him gently.

"Yeah. Lucky." You breathe out, wrapping your arms around his waist. It was clear that you don't quite know just how lucky someone must be to have you in their life and Spencer was going to work hard to make sure you will.

You bury your face into his shoulder, breathing in his scent. "Thank you." You whisper.

"Don't thank me yet." He chuckles softly, his warm breath tickling the top of your head. You melt into him at his words, as if his stupid joke had a magical soothing effect. Of course you'd thank him. You won't stop thanking him for being him until you were six feet under.

"I'm sorry for snapping. I just—"

"Don't. It's okay. You don't need to explain yourself to me." He says, earnestly, into your hair.

"I know I don't. It wasn't fair of me, though."

"Maybe. But better unfair and raw, than fair and polished. I want you, un-performing."

You sigh into his shoulder. Being open was hard when you've been burnt for it before and you knew there was much to overcome, but you didn't doubt one bit, that you could overcome every hurdle with the help of Spencer. Step by step growing on your walls together. Wisteria and ivy.

a/n: please don't hesitate to send me your thoughts and show support by re-blogging, commenting and liking if you liked the fic!!

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babeforjjmaybanks · 5 months ago

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INTO IT ੭* ‧₊°

part 2 of this!

pairing: frat!rafe x shy!femreader ౨ৎ

summary: after you crowd his mind for weeks, rafe invites you to one of his famous ragers and things get a little crazy.

warning(s): heavy drug use, p in v sex (protected), boob sucking, alcohol, body shots, reader almost gets laced-, alot of swearing, praise kink, fighting/arguing, biting (hickeys), gagging, mentions of vomiting, power trip(?), size kink, rafe is a hornball, ass grabbing, oral (f receiving), face grabbing, hair pulling, slight choking, breeding kink if you squint, possessive rafe, crying, nail digging/scratching, rafe spits on a guy- they're intoxicated but reader verbally consents!

wow that's a lot ..

mentions of: y/n, gorgeous, rafey, pretty, slut, sexy, princess, girlfriend, mama (once or twice), sweet girl, wife, good girl, baby, sweetheart ౨ৎ

a/n: I didn't even bother proofreading this, sorry for mistakes! this took so long to write ngl, low-key horribly written.. this might be the freakiest thing i've ever written. but as usual, hope you enjoy & leave notes! <3 taglist: @maybankslover

word count: 3626

divider by: @im4yeons

"you want me to do what?"

y/n and rafe thankfully had a week off school. and rafe, like the frat boy he is, decides to throw a rager. and of course he wanted her to come! after their last interaction, rafe was busy juggling football and his father, and y/n was busy keeping her stable reputation. they hadn't had an actual conversation in weeks. just speaking to each other in the hallway and texting during the day didn't give rafe much to jack off about.

that isn't the only reason he wanted to see her of course, he had grown fond of her. over the span of a few months, he was completely whipped. even though he was still scared to ask her out, to him, he was hers and she was his.

he hadn't stopped thinking about her since that night as if it wasn't bad before that. he noted the times she woke up, her class routes, and what time she went to sleep. always making sure she had eaten and sending her money even though she tells him not to, like a boyfriend would. since they couldn't find time to study together, he actually took it upon himself to open a book. it didn't have the same effect, of course, but it was something.

"oh come onnn sweetheart, live a little. I haven't seen you in forever it's driving me fuckin' crazy." on the other side of the phone rafe ran a hand through his curtain bangs and tossed his head back in frustration. “you just saw me two hours ago, rafey.”

y/n laid on her stomach kicking her feet back and forth, twirling her hair and giggling. her two friends stayed silent, teasing and mocking her quietly making faces. sarah and kiara were her closest friends, they all had honors classes together and would sometimes study and gossip in the library during and after school hours. ever since she started “seeing” rafe, sarah noticed an improvement in his moods. so, like any sister, she wanted to know all the details. they were practically hanging out every day and almost got kicked out of the library once.

“school doesn’t count, I need to see you, feel you.” rafe always had a short temper and even worse patience, but for you? he was willing to wait days, weeks, maybe even months aslong as it meant he got to see you. he knew how much your grades meant to you, so he never texted you during study hours. even though he secretly wanted to talk every second of the day, he’d never admit it. how shameful it was whenever you were out and he heard a male voice on the other end, he swore he could feel every vein popping out of his neck.

“okay, since you’re so eager, i’ll go. what time do I need to be there?” rafe let out a chuckle, a smirk on his face already imagining his big hands on your waist, fitting so perfectly. “hello? you still there?” rafe snapped out of his perverted trance. “shit— yeah my bad, party starts at 10 ends whenever I want it to. dress however you want, you look good in anything.” y/n giggled and rolled her eyes, “okay, see you then.” “alright, bye pretty.” you smile and hang up the phone, as usual, because he never hangs up on you. atleast not since that time you were about to say something and he hung up in your face and wouldn’t stop apologizing.

you checked the time, it was 6pm. It took sarah about 2 hours to curl her hair, an hour for kiara to decide what to wear, and it took all of you combined just about 4 hours to get ready.

so for the next four hours, you mentally prepared yourself to go to your first rafe cameron rager.

y/n stood in front of the mirror, brushing through her damp hair with a slightly nervous look on her face. the excitement of the night’s party thrown by rafe and sarah was definitely building, but so were the butterflies in her stomach. she wasn’t sure what to wear or how to make sure she looked her best. sarah, who was sitting cross-legged on the bed, flipped through a few dresses, occasionally holding one up to y/n for her approval. meanwhile, kiara was by the closet, pulling out accessories and chatting with her.

“I still can’t believe rafe’s throwing this huge party, well i can, but I can’t believe he invited me.” she muttered, her eyes flicking back to her reflection. “what if I don’t look okay? what if I don’t fit in? oh my God what if I throw up or something?!”

sarah looked up from the bed and gave you a reassuring smile. “of course, you’ll look amazing,” she said, her voice warm with confidence. “you’re y/n—you can’t not look good. besides, everyone’s going to be too busy trying to figure out if I’m going to make it through the night without embarrassing myself.” she winked playfully.

kiara, who had been silently inspecting the jewelry, suddenly held up a sparkling gold necklace. “how about this one?” she asked, holding it out towards you. “It’ll catch the light and really make everything pop.”

y/n gave a small laugh, her nerves still visible. “It’s beautiful, but... I don’t know. I’m just not sure I’m cut out for something like this. I mean, it’s rafe’s party. what if I stand out for the wrong reasons? or, i don’t stand out at all..”

“y/n, you always stand out,” sarah insisted, standing up and walking over with a dress in hand. “and if you don’t, we’ll make sure you do.” she paused, grinning mischievously. “honestly, you might just outshine me tonight, which would be a first.”

y/n chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m not trying to steal your spotlight, sarah.”

oh, please,” kiara teased, holding up a sleek black dress against your frame. “you’d be stealing the spotlight whether you wanted to or not.”

“okay, okay,” y/n said, her smile widening as the tension eased a bit. “I just want to feel comfortable, you know?”

sarah lifted a red hip hugging dress and held it up. “This is your moment, y/n. you’ve got to go big. the red one is perfect. you’ll shine all night, no problem.”

after a moment’s hesitation, she nodded. “okay, I’ll try it on.” she stepped into the adjoining bathroom to change.

while she was gone, kiara rummaged through a drawer and found a pair of matching gold earrings. “these will go perfectly with the necklace. she’s going to look stunning.”

when you returned, dressed in the shimmering red dress, sarah’s eyes widened. “wow,” she said, breathless. “I knew it would look good, but you look—” She stopped, searching for words. “like you stepped out of a dream.. I might have to steal you from my brother.”

you blushed, suddenly feeling a lot more confident. “Really?”

kiara smiled and adjusted the necklace around your neck. “absolutely. you’re going to turn heads tonight. and probably knock rafe off of his feet.”

“thank you, guys,” y/n said, looking at her reflection. “I feel... I feel good now.”

sarah clapped her hands together. “we’ve got you looking fabulous. now let’s get to that party and get totally drunk with no regrets, okay?”

you smiled, already feeling the excitement bubble up again. “definitely. thanks for helping me get ready. I couldn’t have done this without you guys.”

the girls exchanged a quick hug, and with one last look in the mirror, she was ready to step out and enjoy the night.

the girls arrived at the party at about 10:32, there were about 30 cars parked from the house to all the way down the block, and a bunch of people out on the lawn. including her friends two boyfriends, jj and john b.

"fashionably late I see." jj embraced kiara in a warm hug and turned twords you. "no way you got y/n to come to a party, what'd they bribe you?" you shoved him and let out a nervous laugh. "actually.. rafe invited me." rafe, you felt your face warm up everytime you thought about him. jj and john b exchanged playful glances at each other and then looked back at you, "rafe invited you?" jj questioned, "to a rager?" john b added on.

"it's not that big of a deal, just a party." you fiddled with your bracelets in embarrassment, was it really that surprising that you were out partying? talk about a homebody.

"well, if anyone knows how to party, it's me." jj took off his shades and took a swig from his red party cup. "where's pope and cleo?" sarah clung onto john b's arm while she scanned the area, "haven't seen them in a couple minutes, probably somewhere eating each other's faces off. speaking offff.." john b trailed off and snaked his arm around sarah's waist. "catch up with you guys later." they waved the group off and disappeared into the crowd.

soon after, everyone split up. you walked into the house by yourself, there were people everywhere. on the floor, stuck to the walls, on the counters, the couches, and the tables. a couple minutes ago you texted rafe that you were at his house but no response yet, you walked over to the drink table and poured yourself a cup full of light and dark alcohols hoping you didn't regret it later. but after the first sip, it was so gross you gagged.

by yourself, taking small sips from your cup, you hear someone call your name.

"topper?" you raise your eyebrow at the figure moving through the crowd, it was infact him. "hey gorgeous, what are you doing all alone? where's rafe?" he was clearly drunk, but still knew not to flirt with you too much or rafe would kill him.

"I wish I knew honestly.." you took a swig from your cup and sighed. "ah cheer up, I'm sure he's somewhere getting high off his ass. here," topper took a joint from behind his ear and lit it. "first hit, all yours." you grabbed the weed and took a hit, and another, and another after that. a non familiar burning sensation in your throat and chest. you chased it with your cup and leaned against the counter. "see? feels better already. all you needed was a little weed." for the first time ever, you and topper actually laughed together. after some more conversation and him making sure you were still capable of saying yes and no, he went off to go hookup with some blonde.

not even a minute later, a guy came up to you. "your name's y/n right?" you had never seen this guy in your life, let alone knew his name. "yeah, it is." you spoke softly and pulled your dress down a bit. "kevin, nice to meet you." he held his hand out and you shook it, your phone vibrated in your black kurt purse that rafe had bought you, but you were too focused on the conversation to acknowledge it.

"that dress looks sexy on you.. do you smoke?" his eyes dart from your lips to your chest, if you knew any better it'd be clear he was trying to hit on you, but you thought he was just being nice. "thanks," you mumbled, "not really but sometimes?" he let out a chuckle and held out the blunt between his fingers.

but before you could accept it, out of nowehere, rafe shoved him. “don’t give her that shit, fuck ‘s your problem?” he wrapped his arm around your waist and moved Infront of you, red party cup in his hand. “chill rafe, ‘s just some light shit it won’t kill her.” the guy actually laughed in his face, and rafe didn’t like that at fucking all. he handed you his cup and grabbed the guy by his shirt with both hands. “you ever pull some shit like that again i’ll fuckin’ kill you. now get the fuck outta my kitchen.” rafe threw him to the ground and spat on him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and turning twords you, “‘m sorry sweetheart, you gotta be more careful.” rafe wiped his nose and pressed a kiss to your temple, resting his head on yours. the smell of alcohol and expensive cologne intoxicating you. he grabbed his cup and caged you in his arms.

"I will, 'm sorry rafey." you wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his chest, trying to settle the spinning in your legs and the ache between your thighs.

rafe examined your figure, the way the red dress complimented your skin, the way the dress hugged your body with slits in various places, the way your ass was almost poking out, how your gold jewelry accented the red, fresh mani-pedi topped off with an anklet.

he was practically drooling.

"'s okay baby, don't think about it yeah? I wanna try something if you'll help me." he pressed a kiss to your lips, hand moving down to grip your ass. "okay, what is it?" you batt your eyelashes at him, rafe swears he could've died right there.

"cmere," he grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers, leading you to the kitchen, "I'll explain in a second."

and explain he did. at first, you were a little confused but decided to just follow his lead.

rafe lifted your chin up, placing the lime in your mouth. saying you were nervous would be an understatement, but you wouldn't dare start shaking. he placed his hand on your waist and grabbed the table salt, shaking some onto the area between your shoulder, neck, and collarbone. in one swift motion, rafe took his mouth to your skin. guaranteed to leave a mark, it wasn't anything short of licking, biting, and sucking.

he downed his shot and slammed the glass on the table. grabbing your face with his free hand he bit the lime and grabbed it out of your mouth with his teeth, nearly biting your lip. he tossed it to the floor and interlocked your lips in a sloppy, needy kiss. cheers and squeals could be heard in the background, but you were too focused on how hard your heart was beating. rafe was caging you in against the counter, the slit in the back of your dress allowing the cold material to stimulate your skin. after a couple seconds rafe pulled away, breathing heavy hair messy and lips swollen. he smiled at you and you smiled at him.

"that was.. wow." which was really all you could manage to say, catching your breath. "how many times have you done that?" rafe looked down at you, admiring your flushed face. loose strands of hair, eyes glossy, lipgloss smeared, he couldn't get over your eyes. he wiped the gloss off your face with his thumb. "once," he smirked, "unless you wanna do it again." you giggled and rested your head on his chest, arms wrapped around him. "rafey, can we.. go to your room?"

if he wasn't absolutely rock hard already, he definitely was now.

he stroked your back softly with his knuckles, fingers running down your spine. "'course we can princess, whatever you want."

rafe picked you up gently tossed you over his shoulder, hand covering your ass and arms securing you on his shoulder. before you knew it, you were upstairs sitting on his bed. he took off your purse and shoes, putting them on the floor, rubbing your calves before joining you on the bed.

“you alright sweet girl?” rafe laid beside you, “mhm.” he kissed your forehead and pulled you closer to him, embracing your small frame beneath him. “can i ask you something?” you hear his breath hitch, “mhmm.’

“will you be my girlfriend?”

the room is silent, minus the music playing downstairs. you lift your head off his chest to look up at him, he’s looking down at you with low, but emotional eyes. “rafe.. are you serious?” propping yourself up on your elbow now, “yeah, hundred percent.” he sits up and digs into his pocket, pulling out a ring.

a darry ring.

It was gorgeous, and it was gold. he grabbed your hand gently, waiting on your response. “ofcourse I will,” he slides the ringer onto your finger and cups your face, kissing you softly. his hand strokes your thigh, moving himself ontop of you. the kiss becomes heated and passionate, his hands roam your body and one slips under your dress, his thumb rubs circle into your core causing your back to arch off of the bed.

rafe breaks the kiss, starting to suck on your jaw and down to your neck. “been dreaming about this pussy for weeks.” he takes his cap off and places it on your head, backwards ofcourse. he kisses your thighs and spreads them apart, you comply needing this just as much as him. “such a good fucking girl.”

he slides your lacy underwear down your legs and tosses it to the floor. mouth immediately latched onto your cunt, broad nose nudging your clit on his tongue licks between your folds. you moan as he inserts a cold, long digit into your slick hole. curling it so that it hits the right spots. a familiar knot forming in your stomach as you take his hair inbetween your hands tugging and pulling at it. almost embarrassed at how quickly he could make you cum. he mumbles words against your cunt sending vibrations to your core. “‘s okay, let it out, cum ‘m my fuckin’ face.”

with a long string of moans and curses, rafe didn’t let up. still mercilessly lapping at her cunt through her orgasm. “rafeyyy,” she whined, “‘s too much!” he finally decatched his mouth from her heat, face drenched and vision hazy. he pressed kisses to her thighs and rose to her face, kissing her sweetly.

“rafe,” she moaned put breathlessly against his lips, “I want it, please.” she runs her hands through his hair and looks him in the eyes, his heart skips a couple beats. “you sure?” he strokes her side gently, “yes, i’m sure.” rafe took off his shirt and his pants, tossing them to the floor aswell. reaching over to his dresser and grabbing a condom. he pulls down his boxers and tosses them to the floor. and holy shit was he big. not just big, but long. tip swollen and leaking every second. he strokes his self a few times before rolling the condom onto his dick.

he pulls the rest of your dress over your head, eyes glued to your breasts. he kneads one with his hands and takes the other into his mouth, sucking and biting. you moan into your fist biting your knuckles harshly. he trails kisses down your stomach and aligns himself at your entrance, rubbing his trip between your folds. spit dribbles onto his dick befofe he slowly pushes the trip in, wincing at how tight it is. you grip and claw at his arms as he bottoms out. “slutty fuckin’ pussy, so greedy suckin’ me in like this.” he earns a whine from the girl beneath him, still adjusting to his size. he moved slightly, a loud moan crept from your throat. you were full, to the brim.

It wasn’t long until he found a steady pace, rocking his hips in and out of you slowly, grip tight on your hips. every stroke sent a jolt of pleasure through your body. He hit the spot, every single time. rafe presses down on your stomach "you feel that shit? 'm so fuckin' deep in this pussy— my pussy." rafe laughed teasingly, picking up his pace.

he tosses your legs over his shoulders and fucks into you, hand gripping the back of your thigh as he moans into the crook of your neck. at this point, you couldn’t control the noises you were making. you were crying, it didn’t necessarily hurt, but he was so fucking big.

“rafe— fuck.” you were clawing at his back now, and it made his ego shoot through the roof. he chuckled lowly in your ear, “feels good? you love this fucking dick? tell me. tell me you love this shit.” you could barely speak with the way he was pounding into you, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. “I love it— oh God rafe— I love you.” he groans, his thumb rumbs circles into your clit. “you love me? fuck— i fuckin’ love you. 's pussy is so fuckin good— can't let anyone else have it. put a fuckin' baby in you 'n make you my fuckin' wife."

you were so close. It was becoming too much, his words, his thrusts, his love, you could feel it all. "fu—uck you like that shit mama? squeezin' me so fuckin' tight like this. you wanna have my fuckin' baby?" he grabs you by your neck and kisses you sloppy and rough, just like the sex. "gonna cum.” you moaned breathlessly into the shell of his ear, arms wrapped around his neck pulling him closer to you. "yeah? do that shit you got it, make a fucking mess on my dick.”

your orgasm washes over you in waves of pleasure, rafe doesn’t stop fucking you. his thrusts become sloppy as he releases into the condom, chest heaving. your skin sticks to his as he tosses the condom into the trash, pulling you ontop of him and wrapping the blanket around you. he strokes your back and kisses your neck softly, you can hear faint buzzing coming from your purse.

“I love you, boyfriend.”

“I love you too, girlfriend.”

#rafe smut #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #frat rafe #rafe outer banks #chase atlantic

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minh907 · 3 days ago

Note

Why not a Jinwoo x Reader, where the system sends Jinwoo a quest telling him to go out with Reader? Reader actually doubles Jinwoo's XP points, and he goes out with Reader just for that reason. One day, Reader hears him talking about it, realizing he doesn't love her and is using her, she leaves.

Except Jinwoo realizes he really loves her, only he had to lose her to realize it. So he decides not to use the points he's accumulated and stops going on raids to prove his love, except Reader refuses to talk to him.

And one day, a really dangerous portal opens in the middle of South Korea. All the hunters are gathered, but they're not effective. They need Jinwoo. Jinwoo, who hasn't used any portals since Reader left her, says he'll only help if Reader comes back with him. President Go Gun Hee calls Reader and tells her what Jinwoo told him, Reader looks at the President and Go Gun Hee tells her that one person's life doesn't matter when you can save several. Reader who looks at the meeting room and sees that all the other hunters are looking away and don't want to help her, Jinwoo is there with a smile finally happy to see Reader again kneels and all his shadows are also kneeling in front of their queen and he says his words to her: '' my dear and tender just a word and I will do everything you want '' Reader whose eyes no longer have any shine whispers the words that the President said over and over again (that her life is worthless) and ends up looking at the people in the room and Go Gun Hee realizes that he may have made a mistake (if Reader decides to turn against them)

Fall for a lie.

Sung Jinwoo x Reader.

_____________

You should have known this.

That this love is nothing more than a lie.

How pathetic!

You fell for lies, and even indulged in them.

Your hands were clenched at your sides. Your vision was blurry, your eyes were stinging, tears were gathering in the corners of your eyes, then falling like waterfalls. You started to cry and just couldn't stop. It was like your heart was being held in an iron grip and twisted till it hurt.

You loved him.

You really loved Sung Jinwoo.

And now you realized that this love was a lie. He didn't love you. He was with you for the power, for the double XP you could give him from some damn system.

Today is your one year anniversary, you plan to go to Jinwoo's apartment with a surprise for him. The watch you bought for him, carefully wrapped, is still in your hand, placed in a nice bag, along with the photo album of the two of you. The watch that you spent a lot of time earning money to buy for him, the album that you spent a lot of time making for him.

You go to his place with excitement, only to receive a bucket of cold water in return.

You heard what Jinwoo said to Beru, when Beru asked if he really loved you. Beru didn't understand human love, but Beru could feel Jinwoo's feelings, he was curious.

You heard Jinwoo laugh. "No, Beru. I don't love her."

"Then why..?"

"She's useful, that's all. She can double my XP, and dating her is just a system quest."

Your eyes widened in shock. Disbelief and pain rushed over you. Your heart stops beating.

"The system gave me the mission, and the strategic advantage was too good to pass up. Double XP just for being by her side? I couldn't refuse."

You're just a tool.

The gift bag slipped from your numb fingers, falling to the floor with a thud in the middle of the apartment hallway, and Jinwoo clearly heard it. When Jinwoo ran to the door and saw you there, his horrified expression confirmed everything.

Looking at your pained face, looking at the tears, he realized that you must have heard what he said. He panicked, even though he didn't understand why he was like that.

"Baby, Y/n, I-", he reached out to you.

"Don't 'baby' me-", you yelled at him, tears still streaming down your face, choking your voice, "You bastard, Sung Jinwoo!"

You stepped back, tears blurring your vision. "Don't touch me."

"It's not what you think-"

"I've heard enough," you whispered, stepping back. "Our entire relationship was just a mission for you. A way to level up faster."

"That's how it started, but-"

"But what?" Your voice caught. "Were you ever going to tell me? Or was I just a tool to power you up forever?"

"I love you," Jinwoo said, his voice desperate in a way you had never heard before.

"Love me?", you laughed sarcastically. "No! You just wanted to use me, that was your goal from the start."

Jinwoo's eyes turned bitter, his hand still reaching out to you, but he couldn't say anything more, because he had somehow written that you were right, that his original purpose of approaching you was to level up faster.

"But-"

"I loved you. Deeply," you cut him off. "But you were the one who destroyed this love." You pointed at your heart, laughing bitterly. "Destroyed my heart."

Jinwoo struggled to breathe after swallowing hard because his tears threatened to escape. Deep guilt weighed down on him with the strength of steel shackles that constricted his movements.

You picked up the gift bag from the floor and threw it at his chest hard. "Today was our one year anniversary, you fucking bastard!" You broke down in tears and ran off, leaving Jinwoo staring at the door, bewildered and alone.

Jinwoo stood still like a statue, his fingers still trembling where you had pushed him away. The act of throwing the gift bag at his chest didn't hurt him, but your words did. It hurt like a knife cutting straight to the bone.

He bent down and picked up the bag. Inside was the expensive watch you had worked overtime to buy, and a thick album. He opened it.

The first page was a photo of the two of you together on an autumn evening walk, you smiling brightly, your hand tightly clasped with his. The next page was your neat handwriting. 'Every moment with you, I cherish. I don't know what the future holds, but right now, I'm truly happy...'

His hands clenched the album. He felt his chest tighten, his breathing becoming heavy. In his mind, he kept hearing your footsteps as you walked away, your sobs, your calling him 'a bastard'.

Why did his heart hurt so much?

He should have been happy. The quest system was complete. His level increased dramatically. But none of it mattered anymore.

____________

It all started about two years ago, when Jinwoo received a strange mission from the system.

The familiar blue light of a notification flashed in Sung Jinwoo's vision, interrupting his fighting stance. He paused, letting the notification expand before his eyes as his darkness dissipated around him.

[Misson: Heart's Power]

[Description: Form a bond with [Y/N]. Her presence will double the experience points you gain from all sources.]

[Reward: XP multiplier is 2x when near L/n Y/n]

[Failure: None]

[Accept?]

[YES] [NO]

Jinwoo's eyebrows rose in surprise. The system had never given him a personal quest like this before. He knew who he was - a mid-level hunter who had caught his eye during the recent guild negotiations. But a romantic relationship for XP? It seemed ridiculous. But the rewards were too tempting to pass up.

"Double XP," he muttered to himself, already calculating how much faster he could level up with such a reward. It was too valuable to pass up.

Since then he has been trying every way to get close to you.

The Hunter Association headquarters buzzed with activity as hunters prepared for their upcoming raid mission. Jinwoo spotted you sitting alone in the cafeteria, reviewing documents while casually stirring a cup of coffee. Perfect opportunity.

As he approached, several nearby hunters fell silent, eyes widening as they watched him purposefully walk across the room. Jinwoo paid them no attention, focusing solely on his target.

He called out your name, standing in front of your desk.

You looked up, clearly startled to see the infamous S-Rank hunter standing before them. Your coffee spilled dangerously close to the edge of your cup.

"H-Hunter Sung!!!???" you stuttered, quickly setting your spoon down. "What can I help you?"

Jinwoo sat down in the chair opposite you without being asked to. Several nearby hunters were now staring.

"I have noticed you," he said bluntly.

Your eyes widened. "Me? Why?"

"The way you handled the Gangnam Station incident last month. You led your team so well despite the surprises." Jinwoo maintained a stoic expression while his eyes radiated his determination. "Very few hunters possess the ability to adapt so rapidly."

Your cheeks flushed. "I was just doing my job. Anyone else would-"

"No," Jinwoo interrupted. "They wouldn't. Most hunters panic or freeze when their plans go awry. But not you." He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. "I need someone who shares perspective. Someone who can see what others miss."

You looked confused. "To raid?"

"Dinner," Jinwoo replied. "Tonight. 8pm at Haru."

Your mouth fell open. People needed to book their reservations at Seoul's upscale Haru restaurant at least a month ahead since it maintained premium pricing. More importantly, had Jinwoo just asked you out?

"I... um..." you tried to form a coherent answer.

"Do you have other plans?" Jinwoo asked, his expression calm but somewhat challenging.

"No, but-"

"Then I'll see you at 8." Jinwoo stood up abruptly. "Wear something nice."

He turned and walked away before you could react, aware of the whispers breaking out around the cafeteria.

Jinwoo smiled to himself. Step one was done. Now he just had to make her fall in love with him within a week. For double the XP, he could do that. It was just another quest, after all.

That evening, Jinwoo arrived at Haru ten minutes early, wearing a black suit that his sister Jinah had helped him pick out. He rarely dressed formally, preferring practical clothes suitable for combat, but the quest parameters were clear. This wasn't a combat quest; it was a seduction quest.

You arrived at exactly 8pm, looking nervous but elegant in your outfit. Jinwoo found himself actually enjoying the sight, a fact that surprised him. He thought the quest would prove less monotonous than he initially imagined.

After sitting at your private table with Han River view you expressed yet again your confusion about being here. "I still don't know why I am here."

Jinwoo looked you straight in the eyes. "I want you to."

"How so? We've hardly talked before today."

Jinwoo had his answer ready. He couldn't reveal the true reason, but he needed something that sounded true.

"We frequently face death in our profession," he said, in a low voice. "That makes us ponder on life... And on what's worth living for." He stopped, looking closely at you. "I've been alone for so long. Only thinking about getting stronger. But, to be honest, I've recently figured out that strength isn't the only thing worth living for."

That wasn't a total lie, actually. Those words seemed true as he was telling you.

You stared at him, totally astonished. "So you came to the conclusion that I'm part of these unexpected new good things of life?"

Jinwoo allowed himself a little smile. "You're not like the other hunters. You're not threatening me and you're not trying to use me."

You started laughing gently. "Most people would say that I'm not interesting enough for you."

"Most people are stupid," Jinwoo decisively replied.

That yielded him a big, honest smile from you, and Jinwoo suddenly felt a little satisfied to see it. "Forget about this hunter story. Tell me something about yourself that doesn't involve dungeons or monsters."

As you spoke, Jinwoo found himself genuinely listening - not only to fulfil his task, but actually because he was intrigued. Maybe that mission would be more interesting than what he thought.

The infamous Hunter Sung Jinwoo continued to pursue you after that first dinner. Your relationship developed quickly. But what started as a calculated move began to feel more natural than he expected. You were smart, observant, and could make him laugh in a way that few others could.

To you, it was like a dream. Jinwoo himself had noticed you. Every moment together felt magical, watching Jinwoo slowly open up, revealing glimpses of the person behind that fearsome reputation.

You accompanied him on less risky raids, providing support and strategy while Jinwoo's power grew exponentially thanks to the double XP he gained from being with you. Months passed, Jinwoo confessed to you, and you accepted him with love and joy. He invited you to join more raids, brought you to guild meetings, even let them wait nearby during training sessions.

You thought he loved you. You believed him that he didn't want to leave you for even a second. You were infatuated with him without a doubt.

But sadly, it was all a lie.

All to maximize his profits.

How funny your life is.

______

Since he turned into a Hunter Jinwoo had never felt powerless regarding his destiny but now faced this experience. He stopped participating in raids, stopped training, stopped leveling up. No more hunting sessions. No more plans to climb the ranks. He let everything go, because everything was meaningless without you.

There was only silence.

And a blank screen with no answer on the other end of the line.

How many times had he called you? Ten? Twenty? Hundreds? He couldn't remember. When phone calls rang unanswered for long periods he experienced a sensation of someone choking his breath and squeezing his lungs.

You blocked his number.

You requested to be transferred to a branch of the Hunter's Association in another district. A place so far away that no one would hear the name 'Sung Jinwoo' every day.

When Jinwoo arrived at your apartment, the place that held countless memories, all that greeted him was cold emptiness.

The room had been cleaned out. Not a single photo. Not a single letter. Not a single trace of you. It was as if you had never existed in his life. As if you had never been important enough to be kept in any of your memories.

And then, ironically, the System appeared, as if in mockery.

[MISSION STATUS: UNCOMPLETED]

[Return to L/n Y/n to continue receiving double XP.]

He chuckled. A bitter, tired laugh.

That was all the system saw in you, a reward, a utility, a temporary 'buff' in a never-ending game.

But Jinwoo did not. For the first time since he had gained his power, he chose not to use it. He had gained countless experience points while being with you, both in battle and in real life. But now, he let it all gather dust. No distribution. No stat increases. No skills added.

Why?

Because each of those numbers was the harshest reminder of how he had traded your heart for them.

He stopped participating in raids. He refused invitations from the Association. He did not respond to messages from other Hunters. Even when high-level gates appeared, Jinwoo remained on the sidelines. The darkness no longer swallowed his enemies like before, it swallowed him.

The shadows sensed it. They could no longer hear the King's cold, steady voice. They felt empty.

One night, Beru, the most loyal shadow, the one who had known no fear, finally couldn't bear it and approached Jinwoo. He was sitting alone in the dark room, the phone screen emitting a dim light, displaying the last text message from his friend. "Happy one year anniversary!"

Beru knelt down. "My King," he said, his voice trembling slightly, "This humble one does not understand. Why don't you hunt? You will become weak. The world still needs you..."

Jinwoo raised his head, his tired eyes staring into space. "Because power has no meaning without her."

The words were simple, but Beru fell silent.

Throughout his life as a hunter, Jinwoo had lost so much: his father, his youth, his freedom. But he had never truly understood the meaning of loss, until you left. Not dead, but alive, but gone forever from his world. Quietly, Jinwoo looked back at everything he had: power beyond the reach of ordinary people, fame, money, power.

But without you, all is just a mountain in the middle of the desert.

He whispered something that no one heard, except the shadows around him, and the dark night sky. "I wish I had never taken that mission, I wish I had just loved you, as a person."

_________________

The news was broadcast on every channel. A giant gate had appeared in the center of Seoul, unleashing monsters of unprecedented power. All S-rank hunters had been summoned immediately. The situation was dire, with analysts predicting catastrophic casualties if the gate was not controlled within a few hours.

Go Gun Hee, the President of the Hunter Association, personally called Jinwoo. "We need you, Hunter Sung. Korea needs you."

"I will help on one condition," Jinwoo replied. "Bring Y/n to me."

The President was silent for a moment. "Is this really the time for a private conversation?"

"That's my condition," Jinwoo said firmly. "No Y/n, no Sung Jinwoo."

A few hours later, you were escorted into the emergency command center, where all the hunters and top officials had gathered. Their eyes were dull, lacking the spark that Jinwoo had once found so alluring.

You hadn't expected a call from the Hunter Association, much less from Chairman Go Gun-Hee himself. When he explained the situation, the disastrous gate, and Jinwoo's request, your first instinct was to refuse.

"He's using me again," you said bitterly. "Just another tool to get what he wants."

"I understand your feelings," the elderly chairman said, his voice serious. "But the pain of one person cannot be greater than the lives of millions. Please, the city needs you."

Those words echoed in your mind as you were escorted into the Association's conference room. All of Korea's top hunters were present, their faces dark as they contemplated the impending disaster. No one looked you in the eye.

And then Jinwoo appeared, standing apart from the others, his eyes shining as you entered. The sight of him, skinnier, with dark circles under his eyes, made your heart clench in betrayal. As your eyes met his, Jinwoo slowly knelt before you. Around him, the shadows of himself, Beru, Igris, and everyone else, also appeared and knelt, bowing to you as if you were their queen.

The room was completely silent.

Through his broken voice Jinwoo spoke to you saying "My dear and tender....Utter a single word and I will fulfill your every wish."

Your eyes remained fixed on the scene in front of you. Behind you, Chairman Go Gun-Hee cleared his throat in annoyance.

"Hunter Y/n," he said, "Understand that one life is not important when we can save so many."

Those words, so similar to what he must have said to Jinwoo, hit you like a physical blow. You looked around the room, at all the hunters avoiding your gaze, at Go Gun-Hee's annoyed yet determined expression, at Jinwoo still kneeling before you.

And something inside you broke.

"A person's life doesn't matter," you repeated, your voice hoarse. "Is that what I am to all of you? A tool to be used when convenient?"

Your eyes, once shining with admiration for these hunters, now became dull. The temperature of the room seemed to drop as the hunters shifted uncomfortably under your gaze.

Chairman Go Gun Hee shifted uncomfortably, suddenly realizing the potential mistake he had made. The atmosphere in the room was changing, not just because of Jinwoo's presence, but because of what you represented to him. If you decided to reject this manipulation, if you turned your back on all of them in this vulnerable moment...

The lights in the command center flickered as Jinwoo's aura began to dim, reacting to your distress. Everyone present felt a chill run down their spines as they realized: in trying to manipulate you, they might have made the enemy much more dangerous than the monsters pouring through the gate.

The room fell silent again.

Suddenly, an explosion sounded from outside the window, a part of the gate had broken off, and giant creatures began pouring out into the streets, screaming madly. Every screen in the room showed one thing.

Seoul was falling.

An S-rank Hunter shouted, "We don't have time! Hunter Sung-"

"Shut up," Jinwoo growled softly, not taking his eyes off you. He was still waiting for your decision.

The entire room seemed frozen. They couldn't give Jinwoo orders. They couldn't confront Jinwoo either. All they could do was wait for you to speak.

You looked out the glass door, where the sky above Seoul was tearing apart, where the screams of people echoed like a death knell. You knew that if you said one word, just one word, Jinwoo would unleash darkness, destroying all those creatures in a matter of minutes.

You know, if you silently turn away from this place, the world might not have a second chance.

You take a deep breath. "Jinwoo."

He reacts immediately, eyes wide.

"I won't forgive you. Not now. Maybe never."

"...I understand."

You explain to the other hunters that you do not want innocent people to endure harm because of our conflict. "I'm not doing this for you. I make this decision because children need protection from the senseless violence around them."

Jinwoo performs an earnest deep bow which symbolizes his commitment to a goal beyond his own survival.

"Go out," you say softly.

And so, Jinwoo walks away. Black light billows out with each step he takes, darkness erupts, hundreds of black shadows tearing through space as they rush out of the base.

Every hunter, every person in the room gasped as they watched the scene unfold like a flood of darkness pouring down on the city. Jinwoo didn't need them anymore. He just needed you to speak up.

And you did. Even though your heart was still broken. Even though your trust was still broken.

After this, would you forgive him?

______________

Note: This request was sent on April 13th and I started writing it about 2 days later, but I'm just now finishing it. I'm sorry Anon 😭😭

I feel like I have posted so many angst lately??

#sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo #solo leveling #jinwoo #sung jinwoo x y/n #jinwoo sung x reader #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung

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mischievousmoony · 10 months ago

Text

𝚑𝚊𝚢𝚠𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢

⟢ james potter x fem!reader

⟢ summary: you have trouble sleeping when you unexpectedly have to share a bed with james on your holiday . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁3.5k

⟢ warnings/tags: one bed trope, bit of wolfstar, fluffy, nervous!reader

⟢ requested

⟢ masterlist

note: love me some out of touch with money sirius and james

"Oh! I see it now! Your booking is for this date!"

"Perfect." James lets out a sigh of relief.

"Next year." The desk agent adds after a rather cruel pause.

All eyes fall on James, the one you all left in charge of planning your getaway. A decision that feels idiotic now.

James looks like he is trying very hard to not meet at your piercing gazes, as if any of you might have summoned the power to turn him to stone.

"Is it?" James' voice is strained as he speaks, "Okay, my fault, my fault. Honest mistake. I'm sure this happens all the time, yeah?"

"Not really." The desk agent says, a hint of judgement in her tone.

James, with his lips pressed into a flat line and eyes squinted, is failing very hard at not looking peeved at her.

"We should've let Rem do the planning," Sirius says through a yawn, letting his head fall on Remus' shoulder. It was already very late when you arrived at the hotel, and all four of you just wanted to crash in a warm bed. Remus slung his arm around Sirius' shoulders, rubbing his arm as a comfort.

Meanwhile, you shift your footing as you move your heavy bag from one shoulder to the other, your impatience and fatigue clearly growing.

James paid Sirius’ comment no mind, his attention all on you as eyes flick your way when he notices your discomfort in his peripheral vision. Wordlessly, he takes your bag off your arm and slings it over his own.

"We can fix this, can't we?" James asks, "Can we move that booking to today?"

"We don't do that for bookings that didn't pay the insurance fee, and it says here that you didn't pay the insurance fee. That also means the trip is non-refundable as well."

"Okay!” James feels an eye twitch coming on, “Fine, what rooms aren't booked? We'll just book new rooms, no big deal," James' says, his own growing impatience evident in his tone. He pulls a credit card from his wallet and taps it restlessly on the stone counter.

You and Remus stand there wide eyed, about to protest, while Sirius begins to look for his own wallet. James waves Sirius off and reassures you and Remus with an "I've got it."

The desk agent ignores the slight commotion as she reads from her screen, "Well, you're in luck. We have two queen rooms left."

"Wait," you interject, "Queen rooms? Because one of them needs to be a double."

"Those are the last rooms available." She confirms.

"Well, is there a pull-out sofa in either of them? A regular sofa? Anything?" You ask, desperation growing as the agent shakes her head at all of your suggestions, "A cot we can roll into the room even?"

"We ran out," she says, tone laced with faux sympathy.

"Well, one bed is fine with us, obviously," Sirius smirks, wiggling his eyebrows. Yet again, he is ignored. Well, not by Remus, who squeezes his shoulder.

James faces you and puts a gentle hand on your arm, "Hey, it'll be fine. We'll figure it out when we get up there, yeah?"

You sigh, but digress with a simple nod.

As soon as James says "We'll take them" the agent is listing off the price for the rooms for the duration of your stay.

"Wait, wait, wait!" James tries to stop her.

You jaw goes slack, "What?"

"Sorry?" tumbles from Remus' lips at the same time.

Sirius is the only one who looks unbothered, his eyes flicking between you and Remus as he asks, "Is that supposed to be a lot?"

"That's wildly more expensive than what we paid originally,” you protest. "The old price is only worth one night of this new price!"

"Oh, I remember why we didn't let Moony do the booking," Sirius comments, and the reason for the price difference suddenly dawns on you.

James looks at you with a sheepish grin as the wheels turn in your head. James and Sirius clearly took the brunt of the expenses, letting you and Remus only pay your share for a single night, passing it off as the full price.

"James!" You ridicule.

"We wanted you guys to be able to stay somewhere nice for once!" He defends stridently.

"First of all, offensive. And second of all, there are nice hotels that don't cost over a thousand dollars a night!"

"It's endearing that you think that's a lot for two rooms."

"Once again, offensive!"

"So, will you be taking the rooms?" The agent interjects.

James doesn't break eye contact with you, his lips molding into a cheeky grin as he slides his credit card across the desk, "Yes, we will."

When you reach the room, the site of the single bed makes you huff indignantly, but you had to admit that the room was pretty nice. And just by looking at the bed you could tell it's comfortable.

"They could have totally fit a couch in here," you take notice of how spacious the room is. "Five hundred dollar rooms should come with couches. You're getting scammed, James."

James chuckles as he places both of your bags on the floor.

"We have a desk," he says as if it's helpful, "a TV, wardrobe..."

"None of which are particularly useful right now," you comment.

James shrugs, approaching the inviting bed. He starts picking up pillows and dropping them on the floor.

"What are you doing?" you ask, moving to stand next to him.

"Makin' a place to sleep," he answers.

"No! No way, you're not sleeping on the floor!" you protest.

"You made it pretty clear you wanted separate places to sleep," James says.

"Well yes, but you should have the bed. I feel bad enough as it is that you've paid for this whole thing twice, I couldn't live with myself if I let you sleep on the floor."

"And I'm too much of a gentleman to let a lady sleep on the floor," he says as he lowers himself to the ground, laying his head on the pillows, "I've always been partial to a firm bed anyway."

"James! No way!"

"Listen, the only way I'm sleeping in that bed is if we both are, otherwise-"

"Fine,” you say sharply.

"Wait, what?"

You put your hands on your hips, "I said fine! But keep those pillows on your side, you've tainted them with the floor."

James watches as you saunter off to the bathroom, retrieving your toothbrush and pajamas from your bag on your way. The whole time, he remained on the floor, too stunned to move.

Of course, when James heard there would only be one bed, he was secretly a little excited, which may or may not have to do with the little (not so little) crush he has on you. But when you expressed concern over the situation, he knew immediately that he'd be sleeping on the floor, and sharing a bed with you would have to remain a lovely little dream. When he suggested otherwise just now, it was just banter and a way to get you to agree to him sleeping on the floor. He didn't actually mean it. But then you said fine.

James' fingertips fiddle with the fibers of the carpet as he contemplates this, still lying on the floor. He replays the moment in his head, checking his memory for your tone. Did you sound annoyed? Uncomfortable? James really does not want to make you uncomfortable. Even the possibility that he has makes him want to punch himself.

You were suddenly standing over James again in a fresh set of pajamas, "Why are you still on the floor?"

"You meant it?" The words tumble from James' mouth as if they were one.

“Yes, James, I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

“But are you okay with it?” James clarified.

“What do you mean?”

“This isn’t gonna be uncomfortable for you? You were really concerned about the prospect of sharing a bed. If this is gonna make you uncomfortable, well, I’d rather beg Sirius and Remus to let me sleep on the foot of their bed like a dog.”

You chuckle at the image of James curled up by Remus and Sirius’ feet.

“Yes, James. I’m okay with it. What would make me feel uncomfortable is you sleeping on the floor whilst I’m alone in a bed big enough for two. Honest.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. Now would you please get up from the floor?”

James sticks his hands up like a child, wiggling his fingers at you. You roll your eyes, but the way your lips curl up at the corners reveal you’re not truly annoyed with him.

You grab hold of James’ hands and heave him up, stumbling back a bit once you’ve got him upright. James helps steady you before he goes off to get ready for bed.

Meanwhile, you begin to tuck under the covers.

Lying in a bed has never felt so unnatural. You try fluffing the pillows, lying on either side and your stomach before returning to your back, taking the covers off of one leg then putting them back on—nothing feels right.

Deep down, you knew it wasn’t the bed that was the problem but rather your nerves. The reason you were originally so concerned about having to sleep in the same bed as James is your little (not so little) crush on the boy. Just thinking about it made your heart race and you were sure you wouldn’t survive the night. You couldn’t even believe it was really happening until James pads back into the room from the bathroom and begins to join you.

You watch as he picks the pillows up from the floor, brushes them off, and places them back on the bed. Your body stiffens when he climbs in after them.

James is getting under the covers when he freezes, “You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yes, James. If I start to not be okay with it I promise I’ll kick you out.” You were lying but apparently it was convincing enough for James to resume settling into the bed.

Before completely settling in, James reaches towards the switch for the lamp. He pauses as he asks, “Ready for lights out?”

“Mhm,” you hum, too afraid to speak in case your voice might be high pitched and riddled with nerves.

With your confirmation, James hits the switch and you’re engulfed in darkness.

Your eyes screw shut as you feel the bed creak and shift while James gets comfortable. When he stops, you feel the hairs stick up on the back of your neck.

You open your eyes, letting them adjust to the darkness before you strain them by attempting to look at James without moving your neck. You can just barely see the position he’s chosen.

“Are you-? Are you facing me?”

“Yeah.”

“Could you maybe not?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah sorry.”

You feel the bed creak again one final time as James settles down on his back.

Upon some reflection, James realizes it is probably weird to face the person you’re platonically sharing a bed with. He just couldn’t help it. In his fantasies, you’d both face each other and have hushed conversations that would keep you up late. You’d be laughing and giggling with each other through the night, scooting closer as you did, until you found yourselves drifting off in each other’s arms.

Instead, you both lay stiffly on your backs, as close to your respective edges of the bed as you could get. It’s not James’ ideal situation, but he’s giddy nonetheless, craning his neck to steal glances at you often until he falls asleep.

You assume James is a restless sleeper, not thinking anything else of the way his head keeps moving back and forth, making shuffling noises against his pillow.

When there hasn’t been any shuffling noises for a few minutes, you let out a breath you’d been holding back. You didn’t want to make any noise at all while James was still awake, as if that would make it seem like you weren’t there at all.

Now that James is asleep and can no longer perceive you, you let your stiff muscles relax into the mattress and take a deep breath. You try to close your eyes and drift off, but they frustratingly shoot open a few moments later. Sleep would not be possible so long as your heart keeps beating the way that it does.

You look at James through the corner of your eyes, noticing the way his chest rises and falls steadily. You try to match his breaths, convinced that if you breathe like a sleeping person you’ll be able to fall asleep to.

Unfortunately, it was useless. Nothing could soothe the knots in your stomach, nor dull the sensation of James’ presence burning like a steady flame at your side. You’ll have to just accept it—so long as the boy of your dreams is next to you, you won’t be getting much sleep.

By the third day of your trip, your exhaustion was painfully obvious.

On the first, you were yawning all day, but you were able to brush it off as no big deal.

The second day you fell asleep on the beach the moment your back hit the sandy towel. Sirius and Remus had to endure all of James' fussing over the fact that you could get sunburnt. When James was spraying aerosol sunscreen over you, both concerned that you hadn't reapplied yet and wanting to let you sleep, the wind blew the spray right into Sirius' face. He snatched the t-shirt you were using to cover your face from the sun at once, startling you awake with a shout that it was time to reapply.

Today, day three, is a pool day, and you were nearly drifting off again. This time, it was happening while you’re in the water, your head resting atop your folded arms that drape over the pool's edge.

James is watching you carefully from his spot on a pool chair, making sure you didn’t actually fall asleep in the water. His concern for your safety and need to rest clashing yet again.

Sirius and Remus join James in adjacent pool chairs with drinks from the hotel’s Tiki Bar, but James pays them no mind as they sit down.

“Alright, James?” Remus asks.

“Yeah,” James responds, not taking his eyes off you.

“You seem tense.” Remus points out, “You do know we’re on vacation, right?”

“I’m worried that if I look away she’ll fall asleep and drown.” James voices his concerns.

“Eh, but if you let her you'll get to give her mouth to mouth,” Sirius jokes, and he’s the only one who laughs at it. Though, Remus does give into an amused head shake.

“Why’s she been so tired anyway?” Remus asks.

“Dunno,” James replies, “I don’t think she sleeps much. Every morning I wake up she’s already up and out of the bed, ready for the day.”

“How is the single bed life treating you?” Sirius teases, wiggling his eyebrows.

James purses his lips, “It’s… not exactly how I pictured it.”

“Ooh and how’d you picture it?” Sirius asks suggestively, earning a slap on the arm from Remus.

“I may have been holding out hope for the morning we’d wake up wrapped up in each other’s arms. Or the night where we’d stay up talking and we’d scooch closer and closer until we couldn’t deny the tension between us anymore and we’d kiss and fireworks would go off outside our window.”

“Oh. Wow.” Remus’ comments when James concludes his wistful rambles, finding them to be... interesting.

“Quite the hopeless romantic, are you?” Sirius teases.

James sighs, frowning, “Wanna know what happens instead? We lay stiff as boards, as far apart as possible, staring at the ceiling in silence until I fall asleep. No late night chats and no surprise morning cuddles.”

What James doesn't know that you have woken up curled up against him, his arms comfortably at around your waist, holding you flush against his side. It happened after the first night, and you quickly but carefully peeled yourself out of the bed the minute you came to. The possibility of that happening again and James being the one to wake up first terrified you, making it that much harder for you to get sleep at night. When you did sleep, it was extremely lightly, and you often woke up constantly to make sure you hadn’t accidentally drifted over to his side of the bed.

Remus squints at James, finding his longing quite painful to watch. James should just talk to you, Remus thinks.

"She looks like she's really dozing off, now," Remus says to help him along.

James' spine straightens with alarm, "You think!?" he asks, standing at once to jog to your rescue.

When you hear James' feet pad against the ground, you look up, eliciting a sigh of relief from him.

"Hey," he said softly as he slows his approach, "you're scaring me, over here."

"Scaring you?"

James sits on the edge of the pool next to you, letting his legs dip into the water, "This just isn't the safest place for you to fall asleep."

"I'm not falling asleep," you protest, but a yawn betrays you.

James shakes his head, light chuckles falling from his lips. When he settles with a sigh, he says, "You're exhausted, love. Can I ask what's going on?"

"Nothing's going on," you say, your eyebrows twitching together in confusion.

"Then why aren't you sleeping at night?" James' lips tug down in the corners.

"I am sleeping," you insist softly.

"Not enough, clearly. What is it? I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I? Because you can still kick me to the curb."

"No, I'm not uncomfortable, James," you look away from him bashfully. You really wish James wouldn't pry about this, you had no excuse, besides your feelings for him, which is one you definitely couldn't use. You chew your lip as you attempt to think of another.

James raises an eyebrow at your behavior, "You're certainly acting uncomfortable. Did I do something wrong?" His tone is dejected, like he's sad that you don't feel at ease around him.

You feel bad instantly, not wanting to be the cause of his low spirits. Your head snaps to look at him, "No! It's not that!"

"Then what?" James shakes his head. He studies you, trying to determine what could possibly be wrong. His eyes bore into yours and you feel yourself instinctively shrinking away from him. Your fingers start to fiddle with the string bracelet that you're wearing, arms still resting on the edge of the pool, though you have stood up straighter now.

His features smooth over in realization as he notices your behavior isn't exactly coming from a place of discomfort, although, he was close.

"Oh. You're nervous around me, aren't you?"

"What!? Of course not," you say quickly, yet your head dips down and you won't meet his gaze once again.

James decides to test the theory. He pushes himself up with the heels of his palms and lowers himself into the pool next to you. He stands in the water, close enough for his chest to lightly brush against your arm.

His voice is low when he speaks, "Look at me."

You barely move your head, just enough to see him comfortable if you look through the corner of your eyes. James' hand settles under your chin to guide your head the rest of the way. His gaze feels scrutinizing, and James catches the way you chew on the inside of your cheek.

"You're absolutely nervous," he decides, and there's a glimmer of hope in his eyes, "Why?"

"It's like you're trying to make me uncomfortable. Do you want to sleep on the floor or something?"

"No, I just want to sleep with you," he blurts without thinking.

You veer back from him and his hands immediately fly up in surrender.

James, suddenly the more flustered one of the two of you, speaks frantically, "Not like–! I didn't mean it like that!"

"And how exactly did you mean it?" you ask, taken completely aback.

"I want to hold you. I want to fall asleep with you in my arms," he rambles, "I- I want to be with you, god, I like you."

You're shocked into silence. James' eyes desperately dart across your features, looking for any kind of reaction or sign.

Once he starts looking a little hopeless the words are ripped from your throat, "I like you too. I want all of that too."

James puffs out a breath in disbelief. His lips begin to tug up into a mischievous grin, his hand finding solace on the bare skin of your lower back below the water.

"And if I said I want to kiss you?" he asks quietly.

You swallow your nerves, "I'd say I want that too."

James' free hand finds the back of your head in an instant, using the leverage to pull you into him as he laces his fingers through your hair.

Later that night, James is the one who doesn't get much sleep, too giddy over the fact that he finally gets to hold you.

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alotofrandomfangirling · 2 years ago

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Dating Roronoa Zoro would include (liveaction!Zoro x female!reader headcanons)

Tw: slight cursing, a bit suggestive towards the end, mentions of sword fighting

A/n: okay so i decided to give it a try myself lol this is completely based off the live action (i haven't watched the anime nor read the manga). I hope you like it, i'm so in love with our green haired baby 🥰 also forgive me for any mistakes, english is not my first language 🙏🏻

• First things first,we gotta make it clear: Zoro acts tough and all but deep down he is a big softie akslajskak

• The thing is, because of his past, he isn't very used to being treated kindly

• So when he found you it was like his world completely changed

• He cherished every little act of care you did for him

• He loooved when you ran your fingers through his hair

• He would close his eyes and enjoy it with a small smile on his lips

• Or when you caressed the back of his neck when you kissed him

• It drove him crazyyy

• He loved these little delicate touches that made his heart do a backflip

• And how about when you grabbed his face, looked deep into his eyes and kissed the tip of his nose?

• Boy would blush like hell

• "You're so cute when you blush" - you'd tease him with another kiss on the cheek

• "No, i'm not" - he said frowning and trying to brush that off, which only made you giggle and kiss him again

• You would always make sure to let him know how much you loved him

• And even though he wasn't the best in expressing his feelings, you could feel how grateful he was for that

• He would always look at you with the most passionate eyes and that's when you knew he loved you just as much

• And he would show it too

• Hell he would do anything for you

• Once he made Sanji prepare a whole feast for you (with him helping ajdkajskaj) because you accidentally let slip you missed food from home

• Or that time he secretly bought you a cute bracelet he saw you staring at when you stopped by at a village

• That's how much he loved you and wanted to make you happy

• And the straw hats would always tease you guys about it

• Except poor Luffy who didn't understand anything that was going on lol

• But he saw how happy you both were and, if his crew was happy, he was happy too

• Now Zoro wasn't much of PDA

• But he made sure to show everyone you belonged to each other

• He would usually put his arm around your waist or around your shoulders

• (When he did the latter one, you liked to intertwine your fingers with his which he thought was super cute ajskajskja)

• You on the other hand liked to hook your arm with his when he had his hand in his pocket

• Let's be honest you loved feeling the strong muscles of his arms

• Yeah, his physique was something you admired a lot

• You loved to watch him practice his sword fighting

• The way his strong arms moved

• That pretty face he did when he was concentrated

• The way his fingers moved on the sword

• Him all sweaty...

• okay let's stop over there

• He noticed you watching and one day he had a brilliant idea (or so he thought)

• You were a very skilled fighter, but you had never tried fighting with a weapon

• So he decided to teach you how to fight with his swords

• Ngl it was tough

• But you were very decided to try your best

• But actually the best part turned out to be being extra close to him

• "Hey, you have to position your arms like this" - he said as he gently lift your arms with a touch so soft it gave you butterflies

• He stood behind you as he helped you correctly hold the sword, putting his hands in yours (yeah like a big cliche move lol)

• He was so close you could feel his breath on the back of your neck

• Which only made you even more distracted and had you get the move wrong again

• "Zoro, love, let's be honest, i can't do it. You are the greatest swordsman i know and i'll never be any close to that, so let's just give up" - you said, frustrated

• "What? No. (Y/N), you are the most determined and dedicated person i've ever known and i'm sure you can do anything you want" - he said, holding your hand and looking at you lovingly - "just... try it one more time. For me?" - he said with puppy eyes and you couldn't say no to the man you loved so much

• You grabbed the sword again and to your surprised you nailed the movement

• "I did it! Oh my gosh, Zoro, i did it!" - you said smiling from ear to ear

• He was as surprised and happy as you, with that pretty smile he didn't show often but that you loved so much

• He grabbed you and spun you around as you both laughed

• "I knew you could do it" - he said as he put you on the ground again - "i'm so proud of my girl" - he kissed your cheek

• And now it was your time to blush as he ruffled your hair

• (Needless to say, Usopp and Sanji were watching the whole thing and started making fun of you two, which only made you blush even harder lmaooo)

• Okay so we all know and love his deep voice, right?

• Now imagine his morning voice 💀

• After spending a ahem very good night together you'd wake up next to each other in the morning

• "Morning, Zoro" - you'd say still sleepy

• "Morning, babe. D'you sleep well?" - he asked in that deep, raspy voice that gave you all the butterflies

• Damnnnn

• You'd get weak in the knees all over again lmao

• And that could lead to something else 👀

• But that's a whole another story ajdkajskaj

• And speaking of his voice

• He wasn't much of talking, but he slowly started opening up to you

• Sharing his thoughts, fears and stories from his past

• You saw through him and broke down his walls, so he felt 100% comfortable around you

• You'd lay down together and talk about everything

• That was such a special and intimate moment for you

• You loved being there with him, taking in his scent and listening to his voice while he traced circles down your back

• He would tell you stories about Kuina and the promise he made

• You swear you had never seen him that vulnerable

• But you were glad he felt safe enough to share that with you

• In the end you just hugged and reassured him

• "I know you will keep your promise, and i'll be here supporting you until the end" - you said, gently cupping his cheek

• "Thank you, (Y/N)" - he said softly, and you could see the warmth in his eyes - "now i have another reason to believe i can make it"

• "What is it?" - you asked, a bit confused

• "Having you by my side" - he said in his low voice, laying down and closing his eyes

• Your heart fluttered at that 😭

• "It's my pleasure, Roronoa Zoro" - you said smiling and cuddling him as you both fell asleep <3

#roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece live action #netflix one piece #live action roronoa zoro

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seat-safety-switch · 6 months ago

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If you ask your crazy uncle, the government is always buying stuff it doesn't need, for way too much money. I don't know about that – the last time I got a paycheque for prison labour, it was real affordable – but I do know that the place to go for gettin' cool stuff is the government surplus auctions.

Think about running a government. You gotta have a lot of stuff. Like, ten or fifteen Jeeps. Probably three hundred thousand coffee makers. A gajillion pens. One of those TVs that shows what number you are in line when you're waiting for your passport. When the government is tired of having all this shit around, they plunk it on Bad-Looking eBay, and then degenerate hustlers buy it in the hope of getting a good deal.

Last week, I regret to inform you, the government made a huge mistake. They let me have a fire truck. Sure, it's not like a "real" fire truck – the military used it up north, so the colours are all wrong, and the siren is bilingual – but it still puts out fires. Which is a huge upgrade from before. Previously, my fire-safety protocol in case one of the half-century-old shitboxes filled with rancid gasoline in my yard finally went kablooey was "move away."

Importantly, it turns out that nobody wanted to buy this worn-out old fire truck. It just sat there, unloved, in a surplus auction in deepest darkest northern Quebec. I wasn't going to bid, and then I thought about how lonely it must be. Its firefighter buddies had ditched it for a younger, sexier model. None of the municipalities wanted an old fire truck, out of fear that it might be unreliable, or expensive to fix. Only new stuff for them. It's safer, they no doubt said. How could I stay my hand from bidding eighteen dollars?

The good news is, even though I ran up a significant gas bill driving it home, I have already made a lot of that money back from charging people to extinguish their houses. Turns out when their place is on fire, they'll pay just about anything, and not really check the credentials of the asshole who drives by to spray it down. Best part is that I don't have to pay for any of the water I take out of the hydrants, so I've been hydrating really well, too. My pee has never been clearer.

So the next time your weird uncle(lette) says that it's time to stop letting the government buy so much shit it doesn't need, set their house on fire. Once they're done negotiating with me, they won't be such big fans of private enterprise, either.

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lacydollette · 6 months ago

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RECKLESS ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing: bf!sam x fem!reader

warnings: angst, established relationship, sam being overprotective, fighting, lots of blaming each other, mentions of dean being in hell, some fluff, wc: 1.9k

You slipped out of the motel room as quietly as you could, not wanting to wake Sam. You had been driving for days, hunting a wendigo near the outskirts of Iowa. But the hunt wasn’t even the hardest part—it was the weight of everything else. Ever since Dean's deal, since he was dragged into Hell, Sam had been on edge, more protective than ever. And you could feel it creeping into every part of your lives.

You glanced at Sam one more time as he lay sprawled on the bed, finally catching up on some sleep. He deserved that. Still, you knew you needed more supplies. You were running low on salt, and in the need of a few essentials plus, you figured a little food wouldn't hurt.

The grocery store was only ten minutes away, so you grabbed the keys and your bag, telling yourself you’d be quick. On your way inside the store, you checked for your phone—"dang it", you cursed, you must've left it at the motel.

So you quickly breezed through the aisles, grabbing salt, herbs, and a few sandwiches and snacks for Sam. You loaded everything into the car and started heading back, happy to know you’d have Sam’s favorite food waiting for him.

But while you were on your way home, Sam was already panicking, pacing around the motel room. He’d woken up to find you gone, no note, no message, just your phone lying there. His mind raced through every worst-case scenario. Every minute you were gone, his worry grew until it twisted into anger. Losing so many people did that to a person, and Sam had lost more than enough.

He couldn’t loose you too.

When you finally walked in, expecting Sam to be asleep, you were met by the intense sight of him, eyes locked on you the second you opened the door, and tension radiating off him.

"Where the hell were you?" Sam's voice was filled with frustration and disappointment. "I... I went to grab some salt from the market. We were almost out," you answered, confused by his reaction. "Why? What's the matter?"

Sam rubbed over his face in frustration, walking toward you. His eyes scanned you from head to toe, as if ensuring you were in one piece. Even though you were back now, his heart was still racing. "Heck y/n, I woke up and you were just gone. Do you know what that feels like after everything? I thought something bad had happened to you." His voice was shaking with distress.

"I was literally gone for half an hour! I thought you'd be asleep. I didn't want to wake you," you explained, fumbling with your words. "I wanted to be quick in case we needed the salt. It took me longer because there was this huge crash on the highway—"

"Wow, that's a perfect excuse." He cut in. "And you didn't think of a way to call me? Let me know you'd be gone longer? No, no... the only thing on your mind was getting some damn salt." His words stung, more than you expected. "You need to calm down." you replied, trying to pull yourself together. Was he really so distrustful? "I know I should've told you before leaving, but look at me—I'm fine. Everything's fine."

Sam ran a hand through his hair, rolling his eyes. "Goddamn it, I don't care if you're fine right now. It's the principle, y/n. You do shit without thinking, and I can't stand it." He took a deep breath, trying to control his anger. "There are so many things that could've happened to you out there. How can you be so careless?"

That hit a nerve, and your frustration bubbled over. "Oh, so you think I can't protect myself? After everything we've been through—after all the times I've saved you and Dean—you think I can't handle something as simple as a grocery run?"

Sam's face darkened. "This isn't about your skills. I know you're a good hunter. But you're reckless, y/n. You don't understand what it's like to see someone you love get torn away from you because of one mistake, one slip-up. And then to wake up and think it's happening again..." His voice broke, some vulnerability showing.

You softened slightly, realizing how deep Sam's fear went. But you weren't going to let him accuse you of being reckless. "I do understand, Sam. I know how much losing Dean broke you. But I'm not him. I'm not going to disappear, but you also can't suffocate me because of it."

"I'm not trying to suffocate you. Fuck, you really don't get it, do you?" Sam's voice rang in your ears, and for a second, he just looked at you with disappointment in his eyes. "Just forget it y/n."

The sudden intensity of his words, the way he yelled, startled you. Sam wasn't the type to lose his temper like this—not with you. Sure, you two had your disagreements, but this was different. He was on edge, and you could tell that this wasn't just about the salt. It was about everything that had been weighing on him since losing Dean.

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, seeing his fists clench like that scared you, so the only thing you could do right now was walk away. Your voice was quieter now, the fight draining you. "I'll take a walk, clear my head."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you turned to leave the room. The last thing you wanted was to fight with Sam, especially not like this. But before you could reach the door, you felt his hand gently grasp your arm, pulling you back.

"Wait." His voice was softer now, the anger replaced by guilt. Sam pulled you close, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as if letting go would somehow mean losing you again. You relaxed into him, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. The warmth of his arms and the sound of his breathing helped calm you both down.

For a while, neither of you spoke. It was as if both of you needed that quiet, the space to breathe and let the tension resolve. And after a few moments, you pulled back just enough to look up at him. His eyes were softer now, and you could see he felt bad for snapping.

"You know," you said quietly, "I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to worry about losing me every time I step out the door. But you also have to let me breathe, Sam."

Sam let out a long sigh, his hand moving to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I know," he murmured, though his voice still carried the weight of doubt. "I just... after Dean, I've been going nuts. Every hunt, every day, I'm constantly thinking about what could go wrong, what I could lose next. It's like I can't shut it off."

You reached up, cupping his face with both hands, your thumbs brushing gently along the stubble on his jaw. "Sam, I understand. I really do. But you can't live like this—constantly on high alert, constantly afraid. It's not fair to you. And it's not fair to us."

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment, savoring the comfort of your hands on his skin. "I don't know how to stop," he admitted quietly.

"I think it's always going to be there," you said softly. "The fear. But you don't have to let it control you." You paused, searching his face for a moment before continuing. "I'm strong, Sam. I know how to handle myself. And I promise you, if I ever feel like I'm all up in my head, you'll be the first person I call. But you have to trust me. Can you do that?"

Sam opened his eyes, looking down at you, and for the first time that night, you saw a flicker of relief in his expression. He nodded, though you could tell it wasn't easy for him. "I can try," he said, his voice a little stronger now. "I'll try."

"That's all I'm asking," you whispered, giving him a small, reassuring smile. You stayed there in his arms, the tension easing itself. Finally, Sam spoke again, his tone lighter but still a hint of guilt in it. "I guess I owe you for getting the salt." You chuckled softly, leaning your head back against his chest. "Yeah, you do. I went through a lot of trouble for that salt."

"Next time, maybe wake me up before you leave," he said, a small smile on his lips, “Or at least don't forget your phone."

"Deal," you agreed with a playful grin. "No more disappearing acts. But you have to promise me something, too." His brows furrowed slightly, "What's that?" he asked. "You have to promise to stop worrying so much. At least a little. You're going to give yourself a heart attack at this rate."

Sam chuckled, the sound low and warm in his chest. "I'll do my best," he promised, “but no guarantees.” You smiled, reaching up to kiss him gently. "I'll take it." Sam kissed you back, slow and soft. When he pulled away, there was a warmth in his eyes, a quiet appreciation for the way you understood him, even when he didn't always know how to explain himself.

"Come on," you said, tugging him toward the table. "I got your favorite sandwiches, you need to eat." Sam hesitated for a moment, glancing at the filled grocery bags. But then he let out a sigh and nodded, he definitely needed these sandwiches now.

"Thank you, baby." He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before grabbing the plastic bags and putting everything away. The room still felt heavy with the weight of what you were both going through, but at least you were in it together. You were safe. He was safe. And for now, everything was okay.

kinda need to fight with Sam just for him to be all soft and cutesy with me after and make up..

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated !!

tags: @gibson-g1rl @nuemanfilms @beausling @angelicjackles @sammyluvr @samwinchesterswifu @sampilled @seasons-of-death @starkeysprincess @rubyvhs @deansenvy @ribbonprincess @mxltifxnd0m

#works ₊˚⊹♡#spnfandom #supernatural #sam winchester #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester angst #sam x reader #sam x fem!reader #bf!sam

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genderqueerdykes · 3 months ago

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just a little anecdote about disabilities & medication

had to go without my gabapentin, a medication i'm taking for nerve pain for about 2 weeks or so while i was struggling to get in contact with my doctor, and there was a mistake with it getting sent to the wrong pharmacy. gabapentin is a very good medication for a lot of people, myself included. i take 600 mg 3 times a day, which is the standard dose for nerve pain, and it works super well. it's honestly a great medication, as it helps with anxiety as well

whenever i'm on my gabapentin, i still feel some pain in my back, joints, and left arm, but when i'm not on it, holy fucking hell. sometimes i get used to what it's like on gabapentin and completely and totally forget what life is like without it. during those 2 weeks, my back seized up so bad i thought it was going to give out on me twice, even while using my rollator walker. the amount of squeezing pain i felt almost made me pass out at one point. the pain was causing my muscles to tense up, strangling my spine and my sciatic nerve at the same time, causing awful spidering pains that ran down my hips and legs. my left arm was almost unusable due to an injury i'm still recovering from. my entire left forearm was in absolute agony, i could barely use it.

sometimes when you're taking a maintenance medication for a long time, it can feel like it's not doing anything anymore. but trust me, it's still doing its job. if you aren't getting worse on a medication, chances are, it's working in ways that have become easy to overlook. obviously it's okay if you ever need to stop a medication. i've had to stop many that weren't helping, or making things outright worse. it's okay if a medication is making you feel like trash and you stop it. but if you ever feel like you can stop the medication because you feel better: don't. that's a sign that the medication is working. stay on it. you don't want to go back to what you were dealing with before. trust me. you want that quality of life.

good medications really can make the difference. it's not a bad thing to need prescription medications. some of them are genuinely life changing.

#disabled #disability #disability rights #disabilities #actually disabled #cripple punk #crip punk #cpunk #neuropunk #madpunk #health #our writing

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minnimstar · 2 months ago

Text

°Forgotten Anniversary°

pairing: Seo Changbin x reader

genre: fluff, angst

warnings: swearing(once), a little arguing, pet names(hon, honey, baby)

summary: It was a busy time for him and the guys, as their schedules were pretty much overflowing. In the midst of that though, your boyfriend forgot your anniversary. You tried to not care, but deep down you were hurt. Thankfully, he noticed and did his best to make things right.

Masterlist

Changbin had left for the studio early in the morning, yet again. It was what you were used to though, since he was a busy man.

It was your anniversary today, however. You spent the day cleaning up and wrapping the gifts you had gotten him, and spent the evening cooking his favorite dish. Everything was going perfectly so far, until it wasn't.

The table was set up nicely, a plate of food for each of you resting on the table in front of the seats with a glass of wine and a candle lit in the center of the table, along with the lights dimmed.

You sat down on one end, and checked your phone for the time.

6:52

Changbin should've been home about 20 minutes ago, but you figured he was just running late so you left it for now.

So, you waited, and waited, and waited, until you got a notification on your phone.

[ binnie💪💚 ]: hey hon. I think I'm just going to stay at the studio tonight with the guys. We've got a lot to do and only a couple weeks to finish

[ binnie💪💚 ]: is that alright with you?

You stared at your phone and read over the message a few times, and felt your heart sink to your stomach.

With a deep breath, you typed out your message then set it down on the table and stared at the food that you had prepared earlier. It was no doubt cold now.

[ You ]: Yeah, of course.. see you tomorrow.

Standing up, you blew out the candle then shut the lights off completely before heading straight to your room and going to bed for the night.

Changbin arrived later that morning, taking his shoes off by the door before walking further into the house.

"Hey, baby! I'm-"

He stopped short when he walked past the kitchen, seeing the set up table and full plates of food sitting there.

"..home. Shit."

It was in that moment that Changbin had realized his mistake, and just how badly he had messed up. Quickly, he turned around and made his way to the bedroom where he found you laying, your back turned towards the door.

He walked up to the bed and let out a shaky breath when seeing that you were awake, and that your eyes were red and puffy, most likely from crying.

Hesitantly, he placed a hand on your shoulder and gently turned you over to face him before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Honey, I'm so, so sorry. I've been so busy lately and it just slipped out of my mind that it was our anniversary. Please, let me-"

"It's fine." You interrupted, your voice hoarse from lack of use and crying.

"No, it's not. Baby, please, just-"

"I said it was fine, Changbin. I get it." You interrupted, again.

Changbin let out a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to figure out what to say. You were stubborn, and he knew just words weren't enough to make up for what he had done.

"Just let me make it up to you, please?" He tried again.

"Don't bother. I said it was fine."

You turned back around on the bed, your back facing Changbin.

He reluctantly stood up and left the room, then began to do what he could to make it up to you.

He started by cleaning up around the apartment, but paused once he saw the gifts that you had wrapped so neatly for him sitting on the counter. It made his heart hurt, and yet another reminder of what he had done.

He quickly finished up, then went out to get some things from the store.

You had ended up falling asleep, but once you woke up you were greeted by the smell of food coming from the kitchen.

Confused, you got out of bed and walked towards the kitchen, and froze upon seeing how clean everything was and your boyfriend standing at counter preparing some food while meat simmered on a pan on the stove top.

"What are you-"

Changbin jumped in surprise, as he didn't hear you enter the kitchen, and he quickly turned around to face you.

"I didn't hear you come in..!"

You looked from Changbin to the stove, then to the clock and the food, and then looked back up at him.

"What are you doing?" You asked again.

"Oh, I'm.. I'm making you dinner. I know it's not much, but I want to atleast try to make it up to you. Look, I even got you something!" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box then handed it over to you.

You eyed the box suspiciously and slowly took it, but before you could question it further he cut in.

"Open it."

You obliged and slowly took the lid off, then pulled out what was inside with a soft gasp. It was a necklace you had been eyeing for months, but could never bring yourself to buy due to how expensive it was.

"Again, I know it isn't much, but-"

"Oh, it's beautiful.. Thank you, baby."

You carefully set it down before taking a step towards him, then pulled him into a hug.

Changbin let out a sigh of relief, and he quickly returned the hug and held you close.

After a moment the two of you pulled away, and you took a moment to really look at the food.

"You got Minho to help, didn't you?" You questioned.

"Oh, yeah, 100%." He confirmed.

You let out a soft laugh, and Changbin felt so relieved at seeing you happy again.

He finished up cooking dinner while you sat at the table, and carefully placed a plate of steaming hot food in front of you before placing his own in front of his seat.

"Would you like me to put your necklace on for you?" He offered.

"Oh, yes. Thank you.."

Changbin grabbed the necklace before stepping behind you, and he carefully clasped it around your neck before sitting down himself.

"It looks stunning on you." He complimented softly with a smile.

You returned the smile, and reached out to hold his hand before the both of you began to eat.

While it wasn't your preferred choice, you appreciated the effort Changbin had made into making it up to you. He genuinely felt bad, and you couldn't stay mad at him for long. Especially not with how he did his best to make you feel better, aswell as how busy he had been recently.

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thezombieprostitute · 5 months ago

Text

The Sweater Incident

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge.

Prompt: mistaking an elegant holiday fete for an ugly christmas sweater party

A/N2: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

Warnings: Angst, Lots of angst. Let me know if I missed any!

"I still can't believe your parents are hosting an ugly sweater party," you chirp at Ransom.

"Me either," Ransom tells you. "Normally they do that whole fancy schmancy thing."

"Huh. I wonder if they're trying to be 'cool' or 'normal' or whatever."

"Possible," Ransom shrugs.

"And thanks, again, for letting me do the shopping for it. I picked a few couples sweaters that I think you'll like."

"It's not a problem," he smiles at you. "I know you always find the best sweaters. Just look at my closet."

You giggle as he holds you close and kisses your forehead. "Now pick out your favorites for this thing."

After looking them over a few times Ransom finally settles on the couples sweaters that say "I Come in Peace" and "I'm Peace". You can't say your surprised he went with the most tawdry of sweaters. It's gonna be a great way to get his family riled up.

You realize what's going on a few seconds too late. Ransom walked you in with an arm around your shoulder and his trademark shit-eating grin. The first few people you see are his parents and his cousin Meg, all dressed immaculately.

Linda's jaw drops and she immediately starts yelling at the two of you, mainly you.

"Richard! Look at this!" she screeches, jamming her finger at you. "Do you see what this degenerate is doing our son?!"

She turns to Ransom, "how did she convince you to do this? I know she's gotten you into pulling pranks! Is that what this is?"

Richard starts joining Linda in the screaming and yelling but you don't hear any of their actual words. Tears are clouding your vision and you're having trouble breathing. You run back out the front door and the sobs start coming.

You hear Ransom calling after you but you just keep moving. When he catches up to you, he grabs your arm and you try to pull away.

"What the hell? What's wrong?" he yells.

"You tricked me! You embarrassed me! You---" your crying cuts you off.

"I thought you loved pulling pranks," he rebuts. "You always say we're partners in crime with this stuff."

"Exactly, Ransom! PARTNERS! If you'd asked me to do this with you, of course I would have, but you decided to pull this prank on me as well as your family!"

"I thought you'd get the joke!"

"I get the joke on your family, but not on me!" you scream at him.

"Oh, so I'm never supposed to pull a prank on you?" he argues.

"You can do that, of course, just not ones that embarrass me in front of your family! I've already got the worst relationship with them that this is just...it feels cruel."

That makes him stop in his tracks. You know Ransom doesn't always understand the limits so, between sobs, you try to explain.

"Your family already hates me, Ran. But we both know that and so when we're in on a prank together, it's like I've got someone at my side against the unstoppable rampage that is your family's disdain for me. When you do something like this, it adds to their perception of me and it's no longer me and you against them. It's you and them against me."

Ransom blinks a few times, unsure of how to proceed. You step away from him and pull out your phone to get an Uber home.

Back at your shared apartment, you're curled up on the couch, wearing what Ransom had dubbed "your angry hoodie". It was an oversized hoodie that you could curl yourself up into, pull on the drawstrings, and shut out the world. You've stopped crying, but you're still, understandably, miserable so you don't hear Ransom entering with several bags. It's not until you catch the scent of your favorite takeout food that you perk up and start hearing Ransom. But you're still so angry and hurt you're not leaving the security of the angry hoodie.

Ransom recognizes what you're wearing and respects your desire to not be touched or talked to. Instead he moves the coffee table over to the couch and starts setting up a veritable buffet of your favorite foods. You hear him open up a can and you're pretty sure it's a can of your favorite soda. He sits on the opposite side of the couch and turns on the TV, selecting one of your comfort shows to start playing.

You wait for him to say something but Ransom continues to respect the rules of the angry hoodie and doesn't say a damn thing. Even as the food gets cold and the drink gets lukewarm.

You open the hood just enough to let yourself see him on the couch. He looks chagrined. You can tell he hasn't been able to sit still, fidgeting every second he's been on the couch, but he's staying silent with his hand to his mouth, like he's thinking.

You open up the hood a little more, "I'm not gonna forgive you so easily."

"Wouldn't expect you too," he admits. "But at least I can start trying to make amends."

You nod and adjust the hoodie just enough that you can start dishing yourself up some of the food. Sure enough, everything on the coffee table is one of your favorites. An assortment of all the different restaurants and food types that you love. You enjoy your food and the show Ransom selected, sitting for a long while before you realize Ransom hasn't eaten anything yet.

"Are you going to eat?"

"I got this for you. Not gonna eat it without permission."

"Thank you," you nod, opening the hoodie up a bit more. "You may eat." Wordlessly he makes himself up a plate.

It takes a few more episodes of your comfort show for you remove the hood, indicating you're ready to hear Ransom out.

"I know I fucked up," Ransom says. "And, thanks to your explanation, I know how I fucked up. I can't undo what I did, but, again thanks to you, I know that there are things I can do to make amends. Starting with promising you that I'll never do anything like it ever again. You're the last person in the world that I ever wanted to hurt and I'm genuinely very sorry about this whole thing."

You sniffle a little, remembering the burning embarrassment you'd felt. "I'll accept your apology, but you've still got a lot of amends to make."

"I understand," he nods.

"For now, I'm going to congratulate you on handling your first real emotional fight as part of a couple. Specifically for not running away. You came back, you faced me, while respecting my rules, and I appreciate that." You see Ransom's shoulders significantly relax at that. "And as soon as you're done eating, you're giving me a foot rub."

He huffs, "anything for you."

Tagging:

@alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness;

@lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

#navy and roo's sleepover #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x female!reader #ransom drysdale angst #ransom drysdale x f!reader

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yuikira · 6 months ago

Text

𓈒࣪ The "you" shaped spot ₊✧

warnings: pure fluff, one implication of having sex, bits of crying, hurt/comfort, ooc kinich, very self indulgent, i apologize for mistakes.

GOD THE ANGUISH I FEEL SINCE THERE HAVE BEEN NO GOOD KINICH FICS RECENTLY

m so sorry mualani i love you but i hate you coz you're so shipped w kinich it makes me cry in anguish burn in despair and writhe in pain..coz hes mine. not yours. never yours (guys am i mentally ill)

"y/n?"

well, this was strange. if he still remembers how to read the time correctly, it's 3:30 pm and you should be at home today. yet he couldn't hear a single sound from the shared household, implying you were, infact, not at home. huh? that was wholly strange. you both had no urgent tasks for today, so where were you gone? your date was in 1½ hrs time, so he didn't have a tinge of worry about it. he knew you'd return by that time, even if you were gone somewhere. but where did you go anyway? to the balcony? xilonen's workshop? ororon's fields? mavuika's chambers? ifa's vet?

it was almost 5:30 by the time his patience finally ran out. you were nowhere to be seen, noone knew your whereabouts, your departure time was unconfirmed, and you didn't even tell him about it. he tried to distract away the thoughts that eerily haunted his mind, 'what if she's in danger? kidnapped? or perhaps, dead?'

he'd get nothing out of overthinking. finally, it all clicked to him where you could perhaps be found.

shit, and was his intuition right. he could hear the sounds of violent sobs drifting off in the sea breeze, some sniffles and pieces of incoherent speech here and there. they were yours.

"y/n? y/n!"

he gently held your shoulders and tried to pry off your palms from your face. is it too late? at last as he finally managed to do so, he saw your tinged red eyes, indicating you've been crying for a lot of time.

"what happened to you? babe? are you okay? please tell me- what happened to you? please, please please-"

"im fine, ichi, its alright"

"you dont look alright at all. what happened to you? who did this to you? this sadness?"

"oh it's just..um..this is embarassing.."

"no tell me, please baby, tell me. if you don't tell me and start crying again, i might just start crying too. please tell me"

"um.. it's...basically, these past few days I've felt like... you're.. avoiding me. like...everytime i try to approach you, you just- you just..shut me down. push me away. it maybe because I'm not living upto your expectations, but these past few days I've been feeling like you spend time with mualani more than me. it hurts so bad when my inner thoughts whisper to me, haunting me by saying stuff like you're giving the same lovesick smile to her as you do to me, and falling for her and- mfhm?!"

oh by gods, the way kinich just tenderly held you yet kissed constrastingly different, almost making you feel dizzy and lightheaded. you knew you weren't in the right state of mind after crying and struggling with your thoughts for so long, and his intoxicating kiss didn't help the matter at all.

at last when he finally pulls his lips away from yours, a tinge of bemused smile rests on his slightly chapped lips. him? in love with mualani? he'd rather give away his body to ajaw and keep himself locked in a small piece of memory inside your heart, so that as long as your heart beats, you both never get seperated. that was the best deal for him.

"look, im sorry I didn't tell you earlier and I'm sorry if I don't live upto your expectations and or are falling for mualani, its completely alright and-"

"Are you insane?"

"huh?"

"You are the words etched into my heart. You are the blood in my veins. You are the god I was born to worship. Who am I to commit such blasphemy?"

"i-ichi-?"

"You are the knowledge I seek. The love I pray for. The reason of my existence. And you still think I'd leave you?"

"wait no ichi i-"

"The symphony of my beating heart belongs to you. Only you. For long as I'm alive, its bound to beat for you. I love you, y/n. I love you so much."

Teardrops began to fall from your eyes again as he finished speaking. He'd never, ever been good with words, reflecting his love and care with his actions instead. Although he's trying to be more and more vocal for you, you'd never expected this from him.

That was the moment you realized, his heart was 'you' shaped, with every single bit of his sanity dedicated to you.

"And no, I.. I'm so sorry if i made you feel as if I'm avoiding you. I'm infact not. It's just the fact that.. I'd been trying to plan a surprise for you for our 4th anniversary, but..looks like I wasn't so slick with it. I'm sorry"

"No, no, it's fine, it's fine. I misunderstood, no need to apologise" you shook your head while holding one of his hands, the other wiping your tears off as he gently places a soft kiss on your forehead.

"It's partially my fault, for making you feel this way. Let's go home, yeah? I'll try to make it up to you. Brownies and making love later?"

You smiled. "I love you so much, it's hard to put into words like you did"

"I love you more. You're forever my girl"

#god im so in love #i fucking love him #he's so silly #i love him too much #kinich x reader #kinich x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you

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reneesghostinthelivingroom · 7 months ago

Note

Hi, I'm new here and I've been reading some of your fics lately and I think are really good.

I had an idea in my head, something about the reader and Regina, now that we are in October, you know, Halloween

I imagine a reader somewhat bigger and taller than Regina, muscular maybe?, dressing up with her girlfriend as Ares and Aphrodite, for a party, it's a bit silly, but I think Regina would fit the role of Aphrodite well.

(English is not my first language, sorry if there is any mistake)

Ares and Aphrodite

|| Regina George x fem!reader

|| Warnings; swearing, hook up hints, make out session mentions, jealous Regina, Ms George being... well, Ms George

|| Summary; reader insists that Regina and her go as Aphrodite and Ares; somehow she convinces her and takes her costume shopping. Among other activities.

Requests open!

Started; october 12th

Finished; october 13th

~~~

"Regina!!" You ran over to your girlfriend, who had been sitting with her friends in the cafeteria. A massive grin on your face that she knew could only spell trouble.

"What is it, baby?" She asked, almost reluctantly as she shifted her gaze from Gretchen to you. Letting you settle yourself in her lap as her hand came to your hip.

"I figured out what we could do for Halloween this year!" You were absolutely excited, practically bouncing in her lap which she didn't mind. Though she did mind the thought of doing some embarrassing Halloween couples costume.

"Better be good." She warned you, you were too giddy to care if she was annoyed with you.

"Ares and Aphrodite!" You exclaimed, Gretchen gasped and nodded.

"Oh my God that's like tots perfect for you two!" She agreed, you looked at her and smiled.

"I know!"

"Oh absolutely not," Regina scoffed and rolled her eyes, knowing you would pick a cheesy option. She should have just decided on one instead of caving in and letting you pick; but you looked so excited and for once she couldn't say no. Until she heard your idea.

"Please?" You gave her your classic puppy dog eyes and pout," you could be Aphrodite~"

That seemed to get her attention and she sighed," fine." She was cursing her soft spot for you. Because only you could get her to agree to something so stupid.

That night, you and her went costume shopping. Going to your local Spirit Halloween and looking to see if they had what you wanted. Sure enough, they did. You grinned at Regina as you held up the two costume bags for the Greek Gods.

"Regina~" You smirked and she rolled her eyes, already done with you and this couples costume.

"I hate this." She grumbled and you pouted, wrapping an arm around her.

"Hey, come on! It'll be great and it's the last idea I have because you said no to literally everything else I suggested." That made her roll her eyes and give you a soft glare. You held out the Aphrodite bag to her," go try it on."

Reluctantly, Regina took the bag and you went to go try on the Ares costume while she the Aphrodite one. Honestly you were fine being Ares, he gets a lot of bad rep in media but in mythology he's a pretty good guy (and Dad) for the most part. Plus, you were muscular. So you had that front covered.

The two of you finished getting your costumes on around the same time, though Regina was done just a little before you. She looked you up and down, thinking that you did look pretty good in the Ares fit. The way it showed the muscles in your upper arms... she didn't bother looking away as she let out a low whistle.

You rolled your eyes and blushed at the way she was behaving; though you couldn't say anything because you couldn't take your own eyes off her.

"See, I knew you'd look hot." You smirked at her and she flips you off, but comes over and kisses you. Her hands cupping at your jawline as she pulls you even closer. Getting a small moan out of you as you kissed her back.

"Fuck, Gina. We're in public." You murmured against her lips, looking at her with lidded bedrooms eyes. She mirrored your gaze.

"So? Don't be a loser, come here." Her nails practically dug into your wrist as she gripped your arm and dragged you. Taking you into the closest changing room.

You could say she... helped you get out of your costume. Isn't that nice of her?

The next couple weeks seemed to go by just like that; you were beyond excited for Halloween. This was your absolute favourite time of year and your family always went all out with crazy decorations. This year though, you were going to a house party with Regina. Which you didn't mind at all, you'd gone to a few with her and the plastics anyways.

You were about to leave Regina's house when her mom called the two of you over; gasping as she saw your costumes.

"You two look adorable!! Let me get some pictures," Regina's mom smiled, taking out her phone. Though her ask for pictures seemed more like a demand...

Regina seemed reluctant and pulled you closer, knowing that you were the only thing that could make this bearable." Just make it quick, mom. You're gonna make us late."

It wasn't quick. You were late. She wanted like a million pictures of the two of you, even taking one where you're holding the blonde in your arms. And ones where you and Regina were kissing, then one holding hands... this dragged on. After what- forty photos? Something stupid like that. She ALSO started taking some pictures of you and her.

"Y/N, can you pick me up? I think it would look great," She grinned at you. You cringed a little and glanced at Regina, who seemed furious at that point. Her temper was already wearing thin with the extensive photoshoot but now her mom wanted you to pick her up?

"Oh hell no." Regina said flatly, grabbing your wrist and yanking you flush against her. She knew the kind of innocent games her mom liked to play with anyone she considered hot." Y/N, we're leaving." Her decision was final, not even listening to her mom's protests as she dragged you to her jeep. Where she had a fierce make out session with you before going to the party. The make outs definitely didn't stop at the jeep though. You knew this tended to happen when Regina got jealous and you definitely weren't about to complain. The two of you had a pretty amazing night.

#fanfic #x reader #canon x reader #fem reader #wlw fiction #mean girls #mean girls x reader #regina george #regina george x fem!reader #regina george renee rapp #regine george x reader #regina george x reader #regina x reader #jealous regina

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bluu-m0on · 1 month ago

Text

Demigod!Brant (Hercules!AU) I’d like to thank @let-the-stars-guide for this idea, suggestions, and her feedback in making this fic come to life!

Synopsis: The city of Thebes has never been a place where peace was an option until a warrior: The Flaming Returned, rose up to the challenge and restored it himself. Amidst the praise and the reputation he garnered for himself, he always finds his way back to a humble tavern you work at.

Word count: ~2.3k

Author's notes and disclaimers: - I let this fic marinate in my drafts for a good while. I wanted to try something a little different with this one since I rewrote the setting to be a mix of ancient Greece and Solaris (right after the Mortefi fic too no less). I also used some terminology that might be unfamiliar. I've left the footnotes for the terminology at the end of this piece. - I don't speak or write much in English, even if I'm fluent in the language. Please be aware that my grammar and/or vocabulary might be faulty in some parts. I've revised this with @let-the-stars-guide a few times, but I'm confident that I didn't manage to correct every single mistake. - yes. I am ***horribly*** down bad for this man. Jesus Christ. The gist of the fic's setting is that: - The sentinels are about the same in-game, just seen as similarly as Greek gods. - Resonators are more or less seen as demigods. Where if someone managed to get a forte, it is said that the sentinel has "blessed" them in a way. I really didn't want to elaborate this much more in the fic since that's not the main focus, but I did use it for some context in writing. The setting is almost the same as the one in Disney's version with some rewrites: - "A hero comes to a crime-ridden town to improve the lives of the people in it to prove his worth." I kept this one in. - 'Meg' (as the reader), was rewritten differently compared to the source material so that this version of the character ('(name)') made sense in the setting. So no, this isn't a Meg!Reader fic. Not to my knowledge anyway.

*"I will face the world fearless, proud, and strong 'til I find my hero's welcome right where I belong."

God knows what you expected when you first met Brant. He was, to say the least, theatric, with how he carried himself around the *polis and among the people of Thebes, always with a confident gait and a smile that never seemed to leave his lips as the masses sang their praises of him as a hero: The Flaming Returned.

Surprisingly, you met him in one of the *apotheca, right by the *amphora where the town’s wine was being audited. He didn’t look like much then— a lot leaner and unkempt; truth be told, he looked more like one of the carry-boys for the old merchant who ran the inn right down the block. Yet, despite his frame and incompetence, he managed to save you from being dragged away and mugged by the thugs in broad daylight. He had no sword on him, but he fought them anyway. One punch after the other, he picked them off one at a time.

How a carry-boy like him managed to beat the crap out of a bunch of thugs like it was nothing is beyond you. Better to believe that it was the blessing of a god, nothing short of a miracle.

He offers you a hand— calloused, firm, but kind. “Are you alright?” He asks kindly as you pick yourself up and dust off the dirt on your clothes. “I’m alright.” You reply, just as concerned about him for any injuries. Seriously, how the hell did he manage to get out on top and unscathed?!

“Do you know those people by chance?”

“Not a clue. Thank you— by the way, for saving me.”

“There’s no need to thank me. I had my eye on those guys for a while. They’ve been hanging around here to steal what they can, I’m guessing.”

“Then you best be on your guard, then. Thebes is not exactly friendly— Or kind, for that matter.”

“Then you’re lucky enough to have met me then. The name’s Brant.”

“(Name).”

And thus, followed a camaraderie between the two that blossomed through chance encounters and unplanned run-ins at the *kapaleia, where you’d find out his penchant for wine, that you’d swear he would be a close companion of the god of wine himself.

Where you'd usually be behind the counter serving food and drinks, you find yourself resigned to keep him company for an hour, right in the middle of your shift no less.

It wasn't like the passed-out drunkards could order another cup. Right?

The tavern was lively with the bustle of drunks and patrons after a long day of work, as orders piled up quickly as the night wore on, with money to spend, and mead to drink; Yet you found yourself keeping Brant company across the bar top among the rest of the men and women who gaily lost their sense of time to the hands of lady liquor herself, inebriating even the strongest over a few kisses with just a few cups.

Not like he's immune to her temptation either, but thankfully his tolerance to alcohol is a little better.

No *amphora full of wine is safe around him. Not when he has coins to spend generously. You note one evening, right across him while he downs another cup eagerly.

Unlike the others, he’s got an ego but not enough to be a complete narcissist. He’s charming— charismatic enough to have any woman swoon over him at barely a glance, yet he never used it to his advantage— always carrying this air of honor around him.

One particular night was when you caught a glimpse of his humility.

"Why do you try even bringing peace to this place?" You ask, taking one mug cup after another off the tables to be washed before you clock off out of work. You think it was the liquid courage doing all the talking about heroism, chivalry, and honor, but you were only met with a far-off gaze cast down towards his drink and a wry smile as he swirls the amber liquid in his cup.

"... Because I have something to live for." The words fall from his lips in a soft mutter, half laced with wine and the other half... frustration? yearning? determination?

He's quiet for a moment before he chugs the liquid gold with an audible gulp, making his throat bob and somewhat easing his mind after downing the cup.

You don’t catch what he mutters under his breath right after.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand; and before you can apologize for bringing the topic up, he puts on a practiced smile once more to steel himself, yet his eyes never looked more lonelier until now.

A coin or two for his thoughts, bless him. It might be best to ask him more when he's sober.

With a renewed resolve, He pays for the drink and thanks you for your company, before getting up and leaving the tavern wordlessly; whistling a farmer’s tune into the night. You clocked off work not too long after.

Unbeknownst to you, he would face the Lernean Hydra the next day. the thing had been wreaking havoc in the countryside for a while now, rumored to have taken the children captive with no one to save them.

Who else was more fit for the job really? He thought.

A screech of a beast echoed across the grassfields before it went completely quiet. A man stands alone with a relentless fire in his hands amidst the several snake-like skulls rolling about around him, right before the monster's necks where each base had been cauterized.

The smell was foul, but meant that the fight was over.

Upon the last fall of the Hydra's head with a searing cut, the people let out a deafening cheer. His sword's embers are still somehow unflickering in the shade of the monster's cadaver right by the base of a hill, marking the first of many victories to come.

Brant had come out as the victor that fateful afternoon. Alone, but alive despite it all. The Flaming Returned had come to burn the strife with his own hands.

It's nothing short of a miracle that the city of Thebes finally has someone restoring order and peace once more among its people and managed to live to tell the tale. Finally, an unlikely hero.

The bells ring from a distance, and the captive children are freed.

Finally, peace. Finally, safety.

Lately, the criminal activity has gone down significantly ever since Brant stepped in to resolve most of it that ran rampant down the streets and in the corners of the darkest of alleyways, never the one to leave stones unturned and crannies unchecked; like flames that burned through the strife and the dust on the marble walls of the city, passing through the cracks, leaving no area unlit.

Rumors of a righteous warrior in Thebes spread like wildfire, lighting the darkest of Thebes as if he were a torchbearer, illuminating the way for those who found themselves in trouble to guide them back to safety, all the while keeping the city safe from the discord that loomed over the city outskirt’s horizon.

No doubt this was the same man who had saved you months ago— the same Byzantium eyes with a head crowned with cyan, and his sandalled feet strutting down the street with his head held high and a sheathed sword on his right, while his left hand swung with every confident step he took, donning that mile-wide grin that came so naturally to him, like wildflowers that bloomed wherever they pleased under a cloudless sky.

Unashamed, unshackled, unperturbed. He seems a lot more glorified these days.

Popular as he may seem, you don’t doubt his honor as a hero, nor do you doubt his kindness— not after the few rendezvous you've had with him, though these days it's been a hassle keeping it on the down-low with his reputation and infamy.

Despite the glory and adulation he gets from the crowd, he still returns to that bar seat across the counter where you work.

From running into him months back by chance, he's found a friend in you amidst the newfound infamy, always lending a hand and fending off the thieves from ransacking the mead before you can get them inside. You learn he was raised in the countryside - not too different from the one he freed from the Hydra's havoc, and was found by an elderly couple right by their hut. He was adopted and raised to be a good man, albeit blessed with a little more strength and power than the average man— much like those fabled resonators you’ve heard stories about growing up, heroes who received the blessing of the sentinel.

As for his real parents... he doesn’t say much, and you don’t bother to ask or pry him about it.

He's still the same guy that saved you months ago, just with a huge following, and maybe a prospect or two on his trail trying to get his attention; yet somehow, he still looks out and asks for you after everything. Compared to him, you’re stuck in a familiar routine over the few years you’ve worked behind the tavern counter, much like the trade winds against the ship’s sails. Barely changing, but comfortable enough to know where things are headed. God knows why he still comes around when you’re a server in the bar he frequents, stuck inside listening to tales of him from frequenters and drunks as if he was a Greek regalia.

"You're still working behind the counter? Come now (name), surely you've got something better to do with your time!”

“Brant, it's only been a few months since you took down that monster. It's not as if I've got any place to get a job. Besides, where else would you actually find me for drinks, hm?"

"Serving drinks and lending both your ears to woes that are worth three! All behind a counter no less! Had I known better, you're an unsung hero to many!”

He lifts his cup to toast to you, and your eyes meet his.

“For your quiet service, and to the truest camaraderie you’ve given to people like me.”

Your cheeks warm up over his sincerity as he chuckles boyishly, shining a toothy grin from across the bar top, head propped up on his hand and leaning slightly forward. You cough awkwardly, trying to offset the growing joy in your heart.

“Thank you.”

You glance down and eye the floor. Have the tiles always been this dull? You polish the cup a little firmer.

“Don’t mention it. Another of the house specialty please!”

And there it is again, that bright, mile-wide grin rivaling the sun itself. You roll your eyes and chuff.

His cheek hasn't changed at all.

“… There’s the guy I know.”

You start working on his order exchanging a few jokes and jabs while you busy yourself; missing the way his cheeks flush as you get back to fixing his order like clockwork. A Nectar of the Gods for the hero who sat patiently on the other side of the bar top— "Nectarwine", as he liked to call it personally, watching the amber flow down the new cup in your hands, already smelling the sugar-sweet concoction wafting in the air once you put the rest of the mead back with the rest of the batch on the shelf.

Amidst the glory and praise, he admittedly found comfort in this little routine with you, sharing his day with you at least once a week after a hard day defending the city from tacet discords and criminals.

No matter what had happened to him, he'd always find you preparing drinks with practiced ease, ready to lend an ear and let him tell his daily tales after he orders another cup.

All behind a counter… He thinks to himself.

A kind smile on your face, a chortle here and there from his jokes, and a gentle reminder from you to watch his intake right after you give him his cup. He can't help but respond in kind, softly:

"You know me too well already. I can handle it, don't worry."

It’s no stranger to you that he always orders multiple times as per usual, with the claim that you've given him a cup from a better batch. Another one for the road, and another just to maybe keep you around for a little longer. Maybe.

He looks up from his cup, drunk on the sugar and liquor, while he lays his head on the bar counter, thanking the sentinel that you're too busy to notice him looking at your back. The color of the mead you gave him never looked prettier against your skin as you poured it into a cup every time, and he swore you'd look good in gold, though he wouldn't admit it now.

Was it really the Nectarwine that tasted sweet? or was it the company you provided him without hesitation? No, he's not blushing; he's only red because of the mead.

It’s his turn to cough, yet he can't help the stuttering beat on his chest. Have you always looked this stunning under the oil lamp's firelight? or has the liquor gone to his head already?

“Say (name)?”

He can't help but feel bold. it's now or never. You turn around and face him, setting down a clean cup back on the shelf.

“Yes?”

“How about we meet up some place else after your shift?”

“Oh? What for?”

"You look like you could use a break. Making and serving drinks on a daily must be awfully boring. What do you say?"

He grins, almost sheepishly. Brant, shy? That's new. You smile his way, chuckling over his sudden concern for your well-being. You cross your arms loosely and scoff lightly. For a moment, he's nervous.

Were you fond of him? He wonders. It's his eyes turn to flick up to yours, only to find that you're kinder than he thought.

"If there's anyone who needs a break, I think that would be you, Brant."

Terminology + Citations:

*"I will go the Distance (reprise)" - (sung by) Robert Bart, Hercules 1997.

Polis — greek city

Amphora | Amphorae — two-handled jar or vase, typically with a large oval body and a narrow cylindrical neck, used for storage and transport of liquids and solids like wine, oil, and grain.

Kapaleia — bars and taverns of ancient Greece.

Apotheca — storeroom for wine, herbs, and spices.

#wuwa x reader #wuthering waves #brant x reader #x reader #wuwa brant #Hercules!Brant #wuwa x y/n #Hercules #did I cook?#this has been marinating for a while ngl.#part 2?

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tojjist · 1 year ago

Text

“At Least” S. Gojo

☆ genre: angst to fluff (kinda)

☆ pairings: Gojo Satoru x f! reader

☆ summary: After Geto left, nothing has been the same. Especially not your relationship with Gojo Satoru. Once you decide to move to Kyoto for good, Gojo is less than pleased. But fate does not seem to want to let you go.

☆ cw: mentions of sex, depressed gojo, not spoiler free, hopping between timelines but like i added non-canon events, smoking, drinking, getting drunk, high school Gojo being a high school boy, cussing, mentions of drunk sex but it doesn’t happen, mentions character death (from the anime), gojo satoru (yes that's a trigger warning).

☆ wc : 5.6k

☆ a/n: this has been in the doing for so long? I've been waiting to have the chance to upload it for maybe a year now smh. Also was originally written for an irl of mine lmao

“Oh my god,” you emphasize each word, pushing the wooden chair away with your knee. “Satoru, is it yours?”

His black pupils, lined with iris the color of morning skies, study your figure from behind the shaded glasses, pink lips quirking slightly upwards in approval of your attention.

“Nah, it's only staying with me for a week,” he stated, watching nervously as you strode over to him. “His owner is away for some business.”

Your attention remained fixed on the pet in Satoru's long, long arms. Your face lit up when a bark escaped the infant animal. “Can I hold it?”

Satoru watched over you carefully, pleading eyes coming in line with his blues. You make it hard to say anything other than an immediate yes, but he tries to stretch out the conversation to his best ability.

“It's 400 yen for 10 minutes,” he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his words. He earned a look of amusement from you; a small victory. He then braced himself for the next part. Satoru bent down, meeting you eye-to-eye, and noticed your breath catching in anticipation. “Or... you can shorten your skirt.”

Your face took no time to grow hot, not giving any verbal answer besides the blank expression you stare at him with. For a second, Gojo let himself think he's the victor of this little challenge he started in his head. But he soon came to realize how grave of a mistake he's made.

You're not flustered, you're angry.

“You're such a fucking pervert,” you fume, eyes glaring daggers. He dares not move, noticing the way your eyes flutter over his face.

“You're truly unbelievable,” the shorter male chuckled, making sure he didn't bump into Satoru's now-bruised arm. “What were you even thinking?”

“I thought it was funny, y'know?” He huffed in response. Gojo's fingers ran through his own bright locks as he took a seat on the wood hung up by metal chains. "Besides, has she always been this strong? Physically, I mean."

Geto stared into the reddish sky of dusk, placing himself into a swing in turn and kicking the air so the swing would start moving. "I don't know. Girls are really full of surprises.”

He never thought, not in a million years, things would come to this. Ever since Gojo's last encounter with Geto after he, well, changed... Gojo became unable to face anyone quite the same way he did before.

How did he get here? How did things escalate to this? Thinking about it, Geto had shown signs of a change in his heart and mind. It was Satoru's fault, was it not? He should have done better. He should have noticed. How could he not have? wasn't he the strongest? Wasn't that his job? How could he be so bad at everything?

How could he fail everyone like this?

“Gojo-San?”

Your feminine voice cut his train of thought. He almost forgot the situation he is now stuck in. He's been doing that a lot: losing himself in thought, mind almost immune to the outer world until he temporarily lost his sense of self. Nothing felt quite the same any more. It was like the world had lost its color.

“Sorry- What's up?” He turned to you. Gojo-san, you called him. When did you stop using his given name? What's with the '-san'? Gojo hadn't realized that losing one person was the first step, and now he found himself deep in the road of losing everyone.

And now he's stuck in the elevator with the girl he had liked for so long. He couldn't find it in himself to say anything to you, to push your buttons like he always did or joke around. When did the world become so heavy? He does not know.

“Are you okay? You seemed off.”

Your face is devoid of any genuine emotion, seemingly expressionless. But your voice is laced with concern. Gojo could only guess you didn't want him thinking you pity him or anything of such. But if that isn't the case, he wouldn't know. He's too tired to bother thinking about it.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine,” he smiled in assurance, “Just bothered by, well, this-” he threw his hand in the way of the control panel. The elevator doors have been stuck for almost twenty minutes now. How pleasant.

“uh huh,” you sigh, turning back around. How did you turn so cold?

When the silence stretches, you start a conversation, hesitant at first. “By the way, I got accepted as a helper in a nursery in Kyoto,” you mutter, gaze avoiding his own. “they're expecting me to start work right after spring break.”

Spring break?

Holy shit. It hit him like a truck. That’s barely a week and a half from now.

“Spring break? Why so soon?”

“That’s when the students file back in,” you mumble, fiddling with the watch placed around your wrist. You pause to read the time, then turn to meet his eyes. “I’m leaving in four days to get settled.”

“Oh…” His breath caught, “Train?”

What a stupid question. He knows. Satoru has never been unintelligent, especially in conversing. But now his unintelligence shines through as if it’s his only trait. He’s glad you don’t question it.

“Yeah, I have no other form of transport really.”

“Well, uh…” He hates himself. He hates himself for not doing anything. He hates himself for being so weak and cowardly, for being unable to keep his friends around him, for shutting everyone he holds close out. But now, he especially hates himself for being unable to feel happy for you, or to congratulate you on the opportunity, “come visit us every once in a while, yeah?”

Your mouth remains shut, only staring at the tall man before your eyes. The silence stretches between the two of you once again, and you don’t find it in you to speak of how you feel.

“You.. you know you could have died, right? We all could have b-but you…” You trail off, thoughts splattered like a spilled pot of ink. Although you seemed unfazed, in your mind you were anything but. Haibara, Riko, and all the losses that trailed and every event that followed has been stressful and nerve-wrecking. And even in the quietness and silence of the general atmosphere, it has been nearly impossible to find peace within yourself.

“Well, I didn’t. What happened had passed. Can you change that? I doubt so. No point in ‘if’ and ‘could’ve’.”

Before you could respond,the lights flickered back on. You grow unsure if you’ve struck a nerve, but that wasn’t what you meant. Gojo’s response had nothing to do with what you said, you were sure he knew exactly what your words were meant for. Why is he so scared of confronting it?

You don’t know. You could never hope to know because you and Gojo Satoru live in different worlds, the man who was only Satoru some time ago. You were worlds apart, yet Satoru loved to play pretend that he lived in the same world as you, even when he stuck out like a sore thumb. But he was no longer. Ever since Geto left… it’s safe to say everyone has been changing slowly, deforming from their previous lives and personalities. But Satoru flipped, like the head and tail of a coin, he got himself a new face. He turned into Gojo Satoru; the strongest. A soul unalive. A broken boy in an ever growing body. A stranger.

Two days later you find yourself still roaming the campus , searching so desperately for something. Anything. A reason to stay, perhaps? You don’t find it anyway. You have no attachment as this place holds nothing but misery. Or that’s what you told yourself over and over as you packed your things.

Your steps were graceful, walking so cautiously as if careful to not wake someone up. Your fingers find rest on the old, dusty door frame, pushing yourself into the room that hadn’t been used for a good month or so. The classroom looked the same as it always did. Except for the shadow that loomed over it; a gray shade that sent chills down your spine. Or maybe it’s just your imagination.

Then you spot something rather out of place. You’re sure you’ve never seen it before and although you know it’s none of your business, the way it tugs at the strings of your curiosity is undeniable.

It’s red, poking out of what you’re sure is Gojo’s desk. The gloomy classroom was no fit for paper with a color so vibrant.

Your heart skips a beat when you glimpse the seat next to Satoru’s. You do your best to avoid looking at Geto’s desk any further. You busy yourself with the task at hand, reaching out for the mysterious paper hidden in the wooden desk. Shivers run up your arm at the texture of the scrunched paper.

You attempt to straighten it to your best ability, strained by his hard work of crumbling it with obvious frustration. you can barely make out the letters of your name in the middle of the paper, outlined by a messy circle. How Gojo of him. A few lines stick out of the ‘circle’, one of them has the name of a steakhouse somewhere in Tokyo. Another has a date, reading somewhere along February. It’s near impossible to make out what the small combination of letters say, especially when Satoru’s handwriting is closer to symbols than a comprehensible language.

The thought of it was so funny it didn’t feel like him at all. Satoru never planned anything. Every breath he took was based on pure impulse. Never would it have occurred to you that he thinks through things, let alone brainstorm.

The thought makes you smile. But the realization that he never asked you out because he changed his mind or everything that happened getting in his way makes your stomach churn unpleasantly.

You decide it’s probably for the best to never bring it up. It would only make matters worse for both of you. Life ran its course; who are you to try and change it?

“I apologize, but my answer remains. I refuse to take part in this,” you spoke in an even tone. “I have a job and a life away from jujutsu. I’ve made it clear sorcery is not a part of my life anymore.”

"That’s completely understandable,” the old man argued, his voice hoarse with age. You’re pretty sure you hear anger further straining his voice, “but your technique is quite strong. That strength could be of great assistance if put to use.”

“Thank you, sir,” you dip your head, maintaining eye contact with the decaying man. “But I truly apologize. The decision is final.”

“If you ever do change your mind, please let us know. We’d be more than happy to hear it.”

You almost let a sigh of relief escape. Finally he gave up. You end up only nodding your head in response gratefully, retreating from the old man. As soon as you're safe and out of sight, you let your posture drop, eyes rolling back in annoyance. These guys are truly as relentless as ever.

You stopped upon a familiar scent catching in your nostrils. Lifting your head up, your eyes roam around, scanning the room for your friend.

“You look troubled,” Shoko approaches you, taking the cigarette out from between her teeth. “What’s with the face?”

“How is that man even alive,” you look at her, “he’s ancient.”

Your comment earns a light chuckle from the brunette. “I’m glad I never have to get caught up in this bullshit.”

“Blissed aren’t you,” you roll your eyes as you speak. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place, I knew they were going to do this.”

“It’s alright, you’re all done now. Here-” Your friend then lifts the cigarette up, putting it near your mouth. When you don’t show any resistance she, being the bad influence she has always been, proceeds to place it between your lips. You waste no time, making quick work of the drag you inhale, bringing the familiar cloud of toxic chemicals and tobacco into your lungs. Your expression relaxes, shifting into one of relief. Shoko scoffs playfully, muttering that you’re dramatic under her breath before she pulls her cigarette from you, taking in a drag.

“Satoru’s here, by the way,” Shoko didn’t need to look at you to guess the way your eyes snap towards her. She bites back a smile. “He’s calmed down. He’d even seem the same as long as you don’t squint too hard.”

“Good for him,” you mutter, trying to seem as unbothered and nonchalant as your accelerating heart rate would allow. You avoid looking at Shoko, trying to seem disinterested. You know she’d pretend you weren’t gawking at her the second she said his name.

“He’s trying, you know. He’s just as nervous as you are.”

“‘M not nervous,” you scoff, “For god’s sake. It’s been ten years already.”

Satoru is stressed. He's nervous, as Shoko put it. He’d spent so long trying to ignore the past, pretend the past wasn’t at all. He couldn’t confront it. He didn’t want to. Satoru knows what he’s done, he's aware that he hurt you the last time you two had interacted. And that was ten years ago. He even let you leave without so much as a goodbye. How could he look you in the eye and pretend nothing has ever happened?

Gojo didn’t want to face the consequences of what he’s done. More so what he hasn’t. So many things were left unsaid in the elevator that day. They’ve been hanging over Satoru ever since, weighing his heart down and wearing it out.

What if he’s met by another woman? Ten years change a lot as is. What if the eyes that meet his aren’t yours? What if he finds himself talking to a stranger that carries around your name and features? Of all the horrors Gojo Satoru had faced in his life, nothing caused dread to pool in the pit of his stomach like this thought does.

Shoko seems to find something beyond you interesting. You don’t bother to turn to see as the brunette has always been a little in her own head. She’s probably just dozed off.

“Hey, think you can hold this for me?” Shoko muttered once Gojo crossed her sight. She stands facing you, averting his gaze. “I’ll be right back, nature’s calling.”

From his distance, Gojo couldn’t make out what the two of you were saying. He watched as your shoulders shook, presumably in laughter. Shoko then made her away from you, barely sparing Satoru a glance.

Every step he took felt heavy, weights landing on his shoulders as he moved towards you. He watched smoke emerge from over your head. He didn’t know you smoked. And even though he’s not completely sure what you do for a living now, he’s not expecting any nursery to accept a smoker in their team.

His long strides finally arrived, opting to remain a step behind you. Close enough to make his presence known.

The aura was unmistakable, almost as if it could be physically sensed. You freeze in place, the cigarette remaining a few inches from your lips. Even after he changed his perfume to one a lot more manly and appealing, and clearly grew taller judging by the shadow he cast over you, his presence still had the same strength as it did before. If not stronger. Anyone else would say it’s intimidating. But you find surprising comfort in it.

“That’s going to kill you,” his hand reached from over your head, making sure to not cause any unnecessary physical contact. His fingers slip the burning cigarette from your grip. You find yourself unable to make a single move in response, only watching his actions unfold.

He took a step, moving closer, dimming the light from the roll by rubbing it against the metal bars, then throwing it off the balcony. “You’re too young to kill yourself like that.”

“That bitch Shoko set me up,” You hiss, regaining your composure. “Will you look who showed up. You’re killing the ecosystem by throwing waste like this, Gojo.”

Although you haven’t glanced his way yet, You were every bit sure his mouth was quirked in the same smug smirk he wore so much when you were younger. You could even hear it in his voice as he spoke, “You haven’t grown at all, have you?”

“Oh shut it,” you chuckle. “You’re still as immature as ever. How you could be a manchild at 27 is a wonder to me.”

27… It felt so weird to say it out loud. Weren’t you just 17 a few days ago?

“Oh, how you hurt me,” he says in exaggeration, his voice conveying anything but the hurt he claims to feel. “That isn’t very nice of you.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” You say. He laughs a little, you do too. But the silence that follows is not that of a joke. He knew what you’re referring to. Maybe he underestimated your last encounter’s effect on you.

The silence speaks for itself. It’s louder than any conversation you’ve had before. What now? What have we become? Is it of any use to try anymore? Neither of you had an answer to the question that began to surface with this interaction.

The questions remain hung in the air, dimming the atmosphere around you. Was this fate’s doing? Or his karma? Gojo has always been told he’s a god, but how could he be a higher form of life when he struggled so much to hold a conversation?

He’s about to speak again when you cut him off, muttering “here-” as you push your hand down the coat you wore. Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek as you search for the anonymous object.

You pull out a worn out paper, grown from what could have been a bright red to an orangish shade. His eyes study as you shove the paper in his direction, eyes avoiding his gaze at all costs.

Seeing your bashful expression made him rather curious, the contents of the wrinkled paper piquing his interest. He hesitates before he pulls the paper from your hand, half-expecting you to bite him.

The letters were scribbles, almost like they’re straight out of some cult’s ritual, that with the wrinkles of the worn out paper making reading it next to impossible. Still, he could make out just enough to realize what this paper is. His eyes widened behind the blindfold. It didn’t take much to remember this paper, trivial as it may be.

“You found this- how did you even…?” he trails off, confused.

“I guess I did,” You confirm. He’s unsure if you’re proud of yourself for your rather… interesting discovery. It’s bold of you to pull this out ten whole years later. But he can’t deny the relief he feels that at least this means you don’t completely hate him. For once, he’s truly at loss for words.

But he wouldn’t let a perfect opportunity like this slide.

“Oh, so you’re in love with me? You’re so obsessed with me that you kept this for so many years, what a loyal fangirl.”

Before he knew it, a weight so crushing landed on his foot. He turned off his infinity around you as a sign of trust. But he soon came to regret his rather unsmart decision. Your foot stomped and crushed his toes. It makes him groan in pain, bending slightly forward.

“Tomorrow, at Narisawa in Minato city, 5:30. I’m leaving for Kyoto in 3 days. Don’t waste your chance again, Gojo Satoru. You’re not getting another one.”

“I take it you’ve been in love with me ever since?” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “Say, did you fascinate about me?”

“Hmm..” you hum softly at his childish question, “only a little.” You show no signs of interest in his tactics as you sipped the wine in your hand. Undeniably, Gojo is taken aback by your lack of reaction. He hasn’t known you to be so reserved and smart at keeping him on edge. He couldn’t help finding your new behavior enticing.

Is there anything else you’d like to have?” You nodded your head towards the plates sitting on the table, some empty and some half-full. “Or do you wanna do something else before I go back to the hotel?”

“Hmm? Maybe I could join you at the hotel, actually. Surely it’ll be a lot less lonely with me around?”

You’re tempted by his offer, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach. He looked strikingly handsome today. Maybe you were just really lonely and touch starved, or maybe it’s the way his lips quirk as he teases you that makes your brain a little hazy, inappropriate thoughts floating through it and send jolts to your core. Yet, you set your mind on refusing his advances. You haven’t had a decent conversation since high school, for god's sake.

He keeps his eyes set on you, shining before him. You looked glamorous. He’d lie if he said there wasn’t a certain allure to your matured looks. The years that flew by changed a lot of things about you two, but his breath still catches in his throat when your eyes meet his dreamy blues. The feelings rush back, memories clouding his train of thought.

He’s sure he’s going to pay. He didn’t mind it at all, what a small price for getting to spend an evening with you. But you surprise him when you bring up that you had already put your card down, courtesy of having been the one to ask him out. Or maybe this was your way of telling him that you are in pretty good condition, living perfectly well without needing sorcery.

“How’s working as a jujutsu teacher?” you quip, smiling softly. “Utahime says you’ve got some interesting kids in your pack? Two special grades, too. You’re sure a favorite attraction for wonders.”

“You’re still in contact with her too?” he dodges talking about his students, not meeting your gaze. “That’s ironic. Weren’t we friends too?”

A hoarse chuckle emerges from him. But nothing about it leads back to amusement, as it was a joyless sound devoid of life. Almost as if he were mocking you. The dark lenses of the shades sitting on the bridge of his nose served as a shield. He curses himself for being so weak. He's almost thirty but somehow you’ve got him acting like he did when he was 17.

“You didn’t try to contact me either,” you shrug, not willing to take the blame for your lack of contact.

“You could have visited then. Even Yaga talked about you every once in a while,” he isn’t too happy and it’s showing.

“All good things, I hope-“

“Don’t change the subject,” he frowns, an uneasy edge outlining his words. “He was enough. You didn’t have to go ahead and leave too.”

“I had to move on, Gojo,” the name felt like a jab every time you used it. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. This is how you drew your boundaries. Calling them by their last names gives you a false sense of satisfaction, convincing yourself that your sorcerer friends are past figures now. Mere acquaintances.

“-I couldn’t remain hung there forever, I valued my mental health. You grew distant, the atmosphere was growing uneasy every day. I had to cut ties with Jujutsu before I couldn’t recognize myself anymore.”

“Yet you’re here now. Back to square one,” his playful tone was long gone, now replaced by an even, stern one. “Whether you moved away or called us by our last names. It’s a curse you can’t escape. you’ll always end up back in the palms or jujutsu.”

His words held some truth. You know that. But just as he refused to confront this past, you repulsed the idea of your reality. You truly want to believe that you could escape this part of yourself and live a normal life. You couldn’t come to terms with your inability. You held onto your hopes as if your sanity completely depended on it. Another thing that won’t change no matter how much you grew.

“I'll be okay as long as I refuse to interact with this world.”

Once you leave the restaurant, you find yourself wandering through the rich streets of Minato city. It felt as though the night was pulling you further into its welcoming embrace, with nothing rushing you.

“He was only thirteen,” you chuckle, arm linked in his. “It’s unbelievable how bold kids nowadays are.”

“I would’ve done the same thing, honestly,” he smirks, his gaze fixed on the stores around.

“Of course. You’ve got the brains of a thirteen year old.”

Satoru grins at your remark, pulling you into a clothes store.

“What’s this?” you look around in confusion, noting a woman in a suit welcoming you. The place looked a little too fancy, judging by the display of the items and the lighting of the place.

“It’s a western brand,” Satoru answers. Looking over at him, you can’t help but smile a little. He looks good tonight. His fancy outfit gave the impression that he’s a model to strangers. “Louis Vuitton, I think,” He furrows his brows, trying to remember the name of the brand stores he’s been to with Nobara and Shoko.

“Prada, sir,” The lady in a suit corrected him. “Can I help you?”

“We’re just browsing, thank you.” It’s a phrase he heard from Kugisaki countless times whenever they wandered into a store. His response makes you chuckle, watching as the lady takes a few steps backwards politely.

You’re soon comfortable, searching through the expensive coats and bags. Satoru watched tenderly. Even though the ten years that passed with no contact whatsoever definitely propose a wall between you, he's glad you're able to feel free. You might nit on the same page, but you two can work with what you have.

You stride back to the “S” shaped velvet couch sat in the middle of the checker-carpet store, where Satoru sat. But he was nowhere to be seen.

You walk around in hesitance and confusion, completely aware of the lady walking always a few feet behind you. Surveillance, you guess.

You find him standing in front of the white counter, taking a black bag with the brand’s name printed onto it in golden letters from the man standing behind the counter in a white shirt with the brand's logo on it.

“Gojo,” you call him, confusion fused into your expression.

He extends his arm to you, trying to suppress any sourness at you calling him Gojo. “Let’s go?”

You nod, eyeing him suspiciously before you link your arm in his. You make sure to flash a grateful smile at the woman by the door as you walk past the reflective glass door.

You almost forgot how busy the world outside is. It felt as though the glass building of the store was sound proof. Now you have to adjust to the noise of the full streets again.

Satoru remains silent for the most part. It’s not awkward, rather just neither of you knew what to say. He expected you to ask about what he bought, which you have considered. You decide against it though as you feel it’s none of your business. You’re not too surprised anyway as Gojo has always been a wealthy man. He could buy the entire Prada chain with half of his monthly spending.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks. “Wanna go somewhere else?”

You think about going to the club to give the night the best closure. But neither of you were dressed for it anyway. You contemplate your choices. Then you grin at him, and Satoru knows it’s best to fear what comes after

You’re well aware that he has a high alcohol tolerance. While you would be wasted a few shots in. Yet you consumed so many drinks recklessly, thinking that maybe you could beat him in a drinking game.

That’s why he’s stuck to your side now, helping your sleeping body out of his car. Satoru is glad your hotel card was so easy to find in your purse, taking it out as he gets into the lobby.

A few people eye the man, glaring at him and at the way he held you in his arms. But he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it. His mission is to get you to bed now.

“Satoruuu~” You whine, rubbing your face into the pillow once he sat you on the white bedding. “Stay with meeee”

And Satoru is nothing if not human. Despite what everyone else says. It’s proven now that he had come to face a human flaw like this. He is weak, and you are all but practically seducing him.

“Stop crying,” He mutters. He finds himself smiling sheepishly at the unlikely scenario he found himself in. Tucking you in bed, your face hot due to the drinks you had. He really should have stopped you. “I’ll stay the night, so sleep already.”

He convinced himself it’s for the best. He should watch over you for tonight. No funny business. Deep inside he knew he was just finding a reason— any reason to stay around you for a little longer, heart yearning for the lost years. But he ignored the pathetic feeling, convincing himself it’s for your sake instead.

“But I’m uncomfortableee,” you whine again, hands running down your body. “The dress...”

Did you have to make it so hard on him? Satoru is tempted to kiss you, eyebrows knitted in the space between, eyes looking around the room for any sort of aid.

This is probably a form of invading your privacy, but he sees no other choice. He’ll have to hold it together for tonight.

“nngh..”

Your groan came with an impending headache. Your body moves against the rich covers of the bed, sunlight illuminating your physique.

He stopped in his tracks, feet bare against the gray carpet.

Your form is beautiful, one to compete with statues of goddesses. The rays of light complimented every inch of skin in all the right ways. Satoru had to physically shake his head to stop the flowing perverted thoughts in his head.

Your flinch when you catch him standing near the door, heart beating slightly faster. You thought that you’re alone. You don’t think much of it anyway, muttering a “holy shit” under your breath.

“Good morning,” he casually greets, brushing off the mutual shock, albeit for different reasons. “I made coffee, if you wanted some.”

“Oh... thank you,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as you sit up straight. “Did you eat anything yet?”

“Not yet, no,” he says, holding his overly sweet coffee in both palms. “Thought I’d wait until you woke up.”

“You’re a real sweetheart, Satoru,” you yawn. His name slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You busy yourself with stretching your arms. “What a doting housewife God has blessed me with”

His response is only a chuckle, rolling his eyes as he sighs on the edge of the bed. “Well, at least I wasn’t begging a man to spend the night with me”

“Huh?”

You couldn’t remember anything of the prior night. Nothing that occurred after you sat at the bar, specifically. But then you begin to realize, eyes widening at the revelation. You feel dreadfulness landing in the pit of your stomach a little too late.

He’s shirtless, wearing only his suit pants. And even though you wouldn’t mind the sight any other day, the fact that you are in your pajamas isn’t helping at all.

“Did we...” You trail off, expression darkening. Your eyes meet his own, fear implanted in your pupils. You watch as his expression drifts from confusion to an awkward hesitance. Unsure how to break the news to you.

You don’t know what to expect, not realizing you’re holding your breath.

“I-I’m sorry,” He sighs, gaze faltering as his eyes look away from you. Your eyes widen further, oxygen becoming hard to consume.

What have you done?

“But- don’t worry. You know I’m not some asshole...” if anything, he sounded chivalrous. “I-I’ll be accountable for my mistake. When do you want to hold the wedding?”

You gasp, face feeling hot. “You piece of shit-“ You groan as your foot reaches him, forcefully pushing him off the bed. “As if!”

He breaks into a fit of laughter, the sound full of genuine delight. “I can’t believe you fell for it,” He manages between the laughter.

“Fuck you, Satoru,” you mutter, a smile of relief breaking across your face. “I can’t believe you pulled something so childish.”

“Why are you so down?” He climbed back onto the bed, reclaiming his spot on the edge. “Are you disappointed? You know it’s never too late to just as-“

“Fuck off,” Your heart is pounding as you send him another kick, less forceful this time. “Say one more word about it and I’ll make sure you don’t make it out of this room in one piece.”

He laughs, asking you to pass his coffee. You reach for his coffee from the bedside table. Your fingers lift the glass mug to your lips, sipping at the hot beverage before handing it to him.

Your face scrunches up at the horrible taste. Too much sugar. Too much milk. It’s a lot worse than you might think.

“Your coffee should be criminal,” you push the mug his way, frowning. Satoru hums in response.

There’s no awkwardness between the two of you, and he can’t help but cherish it. He feels content, enough to sit a little closer, at least.

Enough to lean in towards you, mouth closing over yours in an ever awaited kiss, at least.

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