#I find some jokes about it funny but it bothers me when people say he could've just “snapped out of it” at any time by sheer will | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slttygeto · 1 year

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SLOWLY LOVING YOU — SUGURU GETO.

જ⁀➴ synopsis: Before Yaga introduces you to the third years, Suguru is a little unsure of you joining them. And then he meets you, and suddenly his heart doesn’t know how to slow down.

જ⁀➴ content warning: fem!reader, reader gets a few cuts and faints, swearing and a lot of fluff.

જ⁀➴ word count: 4,2k

જ⁀➴ note: thank you to the sweet @duhsies for commissioning me! I had so much fun writing it<3!!

“Yaga says there’s a newcomer,” Satoru had a habit of speaking with a mouthful, which Suguru really hated. A hand is smacking the back of the white haired’s head who hisses at the contact before glaring at his best friend.

“Hey!” He protests, his sunglasses resting at the tip of his nose.

“Swallow your food.” Suguru presses, taking a sip from his drink. He had heard long ago from Yaga about this newcomer, and wasn’t really sure how to feel about it. It’s not that he wasn’t good with new people (he wasn’t), but he felt like it was a little odd to transfer someone and have them be with him, Shoko and Gojo right away. They had to have a good cursed technique, a great control of their cursed energy, otherwise they’d just get in the way of everything and—ouf, this was too negative.

Who was he to judge? Sure, a part of him was skeptical, but he was trying to awaken the other side that usually reassures him that everything will turn out just fine.

“I wonder if it’s guy or a girl,” Satoru speaks again, and this time (surprisingly) he swallows his food before opening his mouth. Suguru shrugs at his best friend, grabbing a fry from his tray of food.

“It won’t really change much, I just hope they’re good at what they do,”

“Oh Suguruuu,” Gojo whines at his friend’s negativity, pushing him but not too hard. “Don’t be such a kill joy, I’m pretty sure that they’re good. Otherwise, Yaga wouldn’t look so excited.”

“Why are you the one telling me to be nice?” The black haired male raises an eyebrow, carefully picking out a fry that didn’t have ketchup on it.

“You rubbed off on me,” Satoru wiggles his eyebrows to which Suguru rolls his eyes at.

“Don’t.” Suguru presses, but it’s too late to stop his friend’s funny joke.

“That’s a little fruity—“

“Finish your food.”

When they head back to the school grounds after having lunch, they’re pleasantly surprised when they find Yaga, Shoko and an unknown girl standing near one of the school buildings. From the looks of it, you weren’t that nervous. Sure, you were checking out your surroundings as the school was new, but nothing about your demeanor suggested that you were anxious. Not even a little.

Suguru raises his eyebrows at this, and although he tries not to stare too hard at you, Gojo is quick to notice it and nudges him with an elbow.

“Hey, think that’s the new girl?”

“I mean, it looks like it,” Suguru mumbles a response and stops walking when Yaga starts to approach them.

“You finally decided to show up,” Oh, an ass-whooping is on the way.

“The mission took us way too long,” it’s Satoru who tries his luck as his usual, and the grin on his face draws a similar one on Suguru’s lips.

“Yeah, but we managed to get it done with. That’s all what matters,” if it wasn’t for Satoru’s love to piss off their teacher, Suguru is sure that he wouldn’t bother. But it’s fun, and it gives the students something to laugh about.

You watch the scene unfold before you and you raise your eyebrows at how easy going the pair standing in front of you was. Did they not fear Yaga? You had been introduced to the man a couple of weeks ago before you were transferred to the school, and despite the comforting vibe the man had, you still felt like you owed him some sort of respect.

Something the two guys bickering with their teacher seemed to lack. Or maybe it was just an act.

Yaga gives the two guys a comical smack to the back of their heads and you hear Shoko snicker next to you. You fight back a smile of your own, until you feel Shoko pat your back, almost in reassurance.

“You can laugh, they won’t be offended.” You relax at this, and before you could even say anything in response, Yaga is clearing his throat to get your attention.

“You can introduce yourself,” oh, he’s talking to me. You’re suddenly aware of the three pairs of eyes fixated on you, and you fidget nervously.

“Hello, my name is (name) and I’m—“

“That’s boring!” The white haired male cuts you off, and your eye twitches. Well, that’s offensive. Before you could even glare at him, he’s approaching you while taking off his sunglasses and your heart stills at the sight. Those eyes felt like they were staring into your soul.

“Show us your technique, that’s a much more interesting way to introduce yourself,” your body relaxes at this, and you can see Yaga signaling you to go along with what your classmate was saying.

“Oh, okay then,”

Suguru’s eyes are cat-like as they fixate on you. You get in position to show off your technique and suddenly, everything goes quiet. He could feel the energy shift when you stepped away from them, and so he was anticipating a big show. Perhaps, you were a show-off like Gojo.

Suddenly, the air feels a little different—why is it wet? He touches his skin to make sure he wasn’t imagining things, and before he could even process things, fog had engulfed him entirely. This was new.

You were nowhere to be seen, maybe that was your technique—a little weak, Suguru thought. But it felt like you read his mind because right in front of him was standing a carbon copy of himself. A clone.

“What the—“ The clone stands still as Suguru gets into a fighting position, ready to unleash a weak curse at it, but the clone is quick to do the same and releases a different curse—the clone knew about his technique?

Before things could escalate further, he heard a snap of fingers from behind him and his eyes widen when the fog and the clone both disappear at once. You were standing right behind him. Being so focused on the fact that what was standing in front of Suguru was a literal doppelganger, he failed to notice you sneak up behind him. He assumed that you snapping your fingers was to deactivate your technique, but it was also a realization that you made him so unaware of his surroundings—and that was the beauty of your technique.

Everyone looks amused by Suguru’s confused expression. He was staring you right in the eye, and your confidence and the relaxed expression painting your face would normally sned shivers down anyone’s spine. It was awkwardly silent for a few moments before Gojo decides to break the silence.

“That was rather impressive, wasn’t it?” Shoko agrees with her classmate, clapping almost ceremoniously. Yaga steps away from the two to approach you and Suguru who was still staring at you, this time with less resentfulness. Sure, he hated having someone sneak up behind him. And the fact that you had chosen him out of the three felt a little strange, but he tried not to overthink it.

Maybe it’s because I looked like a bitch.

He immediately brushes off the thought when you flash him an unapologetic smile, the confidence you gave off a few moments ago replaced with something he couldn’t quite decipher—were you getting shy?

His lips part almost in shock at the way your cheeks are slightly pink, and you take two steps back and away from him before apologizing out loud.

“Sorry, I just thought you looked a little bored.”

Oh, not anymore.

“That to you, is a Grade 1 sorcerer.” Yaga announces very proudly. Usually, Grade S sorcerers would be the one to be introduced like this—with so much pleasure and honor. But Yaga didn’t care about that. He saw potential in you and embraced it like you were his top student.

Geto couldn’t shake off the giddy feeling in his chest. He watched as Satoru came over to your side and ruffles your hair, promising that you were going to have a good time at school because he was there. And you played along, the playful expression you wore on your face not matching the blush on your cheeks—you were just easily flustered having this much attention on you.

“What do you say, Suguru?” He snaps out of his thoughts at the mention of his name, and he finds his best friend staring at him with those eyes. He caught him looking at you, didn’t he?

“Sorry, I zoned out.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, but he wasn’t going to say that you seemed so interesting that he found himself so lost in his thoughts. He didn’t like this, he didn’t like how you seemed so unaware of the fact that you were breaking down his walls one by one, and all of this happening in less than an hour of meeting you? Unbelievable.

“I said, we are all gonna get along so well, right?” Glancing at you, he notices how you seem to shift your attention back to him the moment his name is mentioned. You’re almost eager to find out what he has to say next, sparkly eyes and a tight lipped smile making you look so fucking adorable—oh fuck, no.

“Yeah, we will.”

He was officially and totally fucked.

It’s been a few months since you officially transferred to Jujutsu high, and things were going great. You felt like you fit in so perfectly, you were a bit nervous that you would be a burden since the trio seemed to have a dynamic of their own, being the one to ruin the dynamic—or worse, feel left out would just be the highlight of your school year. But they were so nice. Each in their own way.

While Gojo felt like a troublesome sibling with his many pranks and jokes, Shoko truly felt like a close friend. You could crack jokes with her, share food and even watch movies during the weekend. The friendship you shared with both seemed very genuine and you were so grateful for that.

And then there was Geto.

Suguru Geto, tall and handsome, with long dark luscious hair and cat-like eyes. A smile that seemed precious since it appeared way less than you would want. A voice that felt like he was purring in your ear and a personality that had your heart stuttering in your chest.

He had caught your eye the moment you saw him walk on the school grounds. You tried not to make your tiny crush on the man obvious right away, but it felt like you blew your cover when you chose him as your target when asked to show off your technique.

Things weren’t exactly bad between you and the tall male, but they weren’t that good either. There an awkwardness that always lingered when you were both left alone, your heart would beat so fast and so incessantly when you felt his eyes on you before he places a piece of his chocolate on your desk.

“Was gonna share it with Satoru, but he pissed me off today.” You’re almost shocked that he’s even addressing you when neither Shoko nor Satoru were in the classroom.

“Are you sure? He does like sweets,” you still grab the sweet treat and place it in your mouth, to which he chuckles at.

“Well, you ate it immediately. Seems like you don’t care.”

“Well, he did piss me off too today,” you’re grinning, playing with the wrap of the chocolate. Suguru raises his eyebrows at your remark and continues to tease you.

“Was it another joke about how bad his clone was? I mean he’s not entirely wrong—“

“Stooop,” you groan out, resting your head on your desk in defeat. You were too embarrassed about the recent incident, and no one seemed to want to let go of it.

Rather than being embarrassed that his clone was that ugly, Gojo’s sudden and quick realization that your clones had an immediate link to your photographic memory lit up a bulb at the top of his head. And so the teasing began.

How come Suguru’s was so accurate on day one!

Do you have something to share with the class?

It was horrible, and you remember how Yaga had to smack the white haired male in the back of his head to get him to stop. He caught onto your little crush on Suguru faster than you had anticipated, but you were glad that when asked what he was teasing you about, Satoru chose to save you the embarrassment and just say that his clone was so ugly, you needed more practice.

“I just need more practice,” you say, a little muffled from having your face in your arm. Suguru stares at you for a few moments from his seat, then he suddenly gets up and walks towards you. He crouches down in front of your desk and you quickly raise your head in question.

“Hm?”

“You don’t hate me, right?” He could’ve asked that question from his desk, he knows that. But it would’ve seemed a little cowardly cause he knows he would avoid looking you in the eyes. But eye contact was important when communicating things, and right now was one of the few moments where Suguru felt like he was going to pee his pants waiting for an answer.

“Hate you?”

“I’m aware that hate is a big word—it’s a strong feeling too, but I just need to know if you feel that way about me.” Suguru was supposed to feel stupid, maybe a little insane for asking you something like this. But he noticed how things always got quiet when it was just you two alone. It didn’t necessarily mean you hated him, but a part of him wanted to make sure you didn’t resent him for mysterious reasons.

“I don’t hate you,” you pause your words, and Suguru watches as your face slightly reddens as you avoid his eyes. “Uh, just nervous.”

Now, why did I say that? It’s one thing to know that he makes you feel this way, but it’s another when you fully admit it to him and watch as he raises both of his eyebrows, almost in shock.

“Nervous?” At first, he’s scared that the word has a bitter taste to it—but it slowly dissipates when he sees the blush on your face darken because why did he have to say it like that.

It sounded like he was saying it for the first time, carefully tasting each letter and syllable. You felt nervous around Suguru.

“You are kind of intimidating,” the small smile painting your lips eases Suguru’s nerves despite having another word describe him. But he’s heard this one before. In fact, he likes it. He likes the way it makes him feel, the ego boost it gives him when he sees people quiver in his presence.

But he didn’t want to have this kind of effect on you. You didn’t need to fear him or avoid his eyes for him to know that he was a powerful sorcerer—he wanted you to feel safe with him. He wanted to rid you of any problem weighing you down, have that smile on your lips for a long time. Whatever Suguru felt for you, he was coming to terms with it and accepting it.

Slowly that is.

“If I’m intimidating, then is Yaga like a monster to you?” Suguru teases you back, and he stands up from his crouching position. He stares down at you with a grin, his sharp eyes making eye contact with your own bright ones. A contrast like this looked so endearing.

“Yes.” You don’t hesitate as you reply, and Geto immediately bursts into laughter at this.

“Wow, you didn’t even hesitate.” Wow, I made him laugh.

“But he is scary! I mean, he’s very nice… but I don’t think I’d wanna piss him off like Gojo does,” you mumble the last part, but Suguru hears you loud and clear.

“Satoru pisses off everyone, so you’re safe.”

Having a conversation like this with Geto felt nice. It wasn’t that often that you two chatted or even had the time to sit down and give each other normal classmate updates. So to be able to talk to him like this, make him laugh until his stomach hurts before walking to your dorms felt new. But you weren’t complaining.

Over the last few months, you’ve gone on a couple of missions with both Suguru and Satoru. They were all successful, and you always got done with them in half of the time.

But today was different. You were going on a mission with Suguru.

Yaga mentioned how you both seemed to work really well together, and while Suguru might’ve been stronger than you, you had so much potential that couldn’t get wasted. Suguru seemed like the perfect fit for a partner and a sort of mentor.

The mission was going to take place in another city, which is why you find yourself on the train with the tall male who was trying to get some sleep.

Sitting across from each other, you couldn’t help but steal a few glances at the guy. He looked too good from this angle, you could feel your body tingling in embarrassment.

The guy’s just trying to sleep

Over the last few months, no matter how hard you tried to brush your feelings for Suguru, they resurfaced not only a day later when he did something that would make your heart stutter in your chest. You remember him making you food when you were sick, giving you his scarf when you got too cold, suggesting to style your hair for you—how could you not fall for him?

But you were terrified of rejection. You were scared that those feelings could potentially ruin the friendship between you two, and God knows how horrible that would make you feel.

“We’re there,” you were so lost in your thought, that you didn’t feel the train stop. Only Suguru’s hand on your shoulder was able to snap you out of it.

“Oh sorry,” you stand up and make your way out of the train with Suguru following close behind.

“Did you manage to get some sleep?” He asks from behind you, and you slow down your pace to match his footsteps before shaking your head.

“Not really, I wasn’t that tired.”

“Oh but you will be after the mission, that’s always how it is.” He was referring to the many times you and Gojo would end up falling asleep on each other on the way back home, and he would secretly take pictures of the white haired male drooling on your hair to show it to you when you both wake up.

“Thank god he’s not here to drool on my hair,” you say with a hint of annoyance, but it’s harmless.

“Oh, you never know,” the playfulness to his voice makes you roll your eyes, but the smile on your face gives away that you were anything but annoyed.

You arrive to said location after ten minutes of walking. And at first sight, it seemed like any normal abandoned building; a little creepy, no color painting its exterior and most importantly lifeless. But the smell—god, the gut wrenching smell that came from it made you cringe.

“God, it smells horrible.”

“Then we’re at the right place.” Suguru is the first one to walk in, and you follow close after. You take careful steps, eyes darting around the area to scan it for any clues.

“I have a horrible feeling about this,” you mumble to yourself. You knew you were sent to this place to find the source of its gloominess, but the farther you walked down the hallway, the tighter your stomach got.

“It was an orphanage.” Your heart sinks at the revelation, watching the old toys scattered on the floor, filled with dirt and dust. You could only imagine what happened to the kids.

The room is silent for a few moments before both of you and Suguru stand still. Almost on guard.

“Do you feel it?”

“Yeah, I do.” Whatever took over this place was huge. It didn’t necessarily feel like a strong or dangerous curse, but the way it was staring at you from down the hall had you standing in a fighting position.

Before you could even process the fact that you were dealing with that big curse, it charges at you—and fast.

It’s too fast for its size!

Mist engulfs the creature almost immediately, it would only serve as a distraction for a little bit before it would rage even more and decide to charge at you.

“Go hide, I’ll take care of it.” You watch as Suguru calls in two of his powerful curses, both enough to do the job. But you don’t want that.

You don’t want him to do the job on his own, or worse hide while he does everything. It wasn’t why you became a sorcerer, why you chose to even join the school. And so you stood still, grabbing one of the daggers attached to your thigh. You ignore Suguru’s cries telling you to step away from the huge curse.

“You’re gonna get killed if you don’t move!”

“Shut up!” The mist slowly morphs into something else—something Suguru has never seen you done before. It shapes itself into a beautiful scenery, one where flowers are blooming and the sun is shining and—he was hallucinating.

And so was the curse. The technique might’ve not been the most powerful, but it still managed to blind the curse for a few moments. You fill your sharp dagger with cursed energy before slicing it open in one swift motion. It’s messy and sloppy, and blood covers your clothes and the floor like a paint. You stand still and stare in awe at what you’ve just done.

I killed a huge curse on my own!

What you fail to see is the multiple cuts on your body, and how all color leaves your face as exhaustion washes over you. Shit, you were passing out.

The last thing you remember hearing is Suguru calling your name before everything goes silent.

Suguru is a mess. That was the only word that could accurately describe the state of the poor guy as he paced back and forth in front of your dorm room. No matter how much Gojo tried to convince him that you were okay, he refused to budge.

He was mad at you. You were so reckless back there, refused to listen to him when he asked you to move—he was filled with all kinds of emotions.

And so when Yaga finally gives him the green light to visit you, the first thing he does is scold you.

You’re sitting up in your bed with bandages wrapped around your body, and you look so tired. But despite all of that, you still manage to flash him a warm smile when he walks inside your room and closes the door behind him.

“Yaga told me I was passed out for two days, I hope I didn’t worry you—“

“What you did was reckless.” Suguru cuts you off, voice sharp and cold that you flinch. Your eyes stare at your lap, avoiding his because he was right. You were reckless, refused to listen to him and powered up your technique faster than your body could handle.

“I know,” you don’t apologize. A part of you wants to, but you were still going to stand your ground if he tried to guilt trip you about the situation.

“And I was very mad,”

“I know.”

It’s silent for a few moments, and Suguru takes in how despite the tears blurring your vision, you refuse to give in and apologize about anything.

“But that’s only because you scared me to death,” he hears you sniffle, and he sees you blink away the tears before staring at him in shock. Suguru takes a few steps towards you, and for a moment you see the hesitation in his action. He quickly brushes it off as he gently rests his hand on your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek.

“You have no idea how terrifying that was.” Your heart starts racing at his words, and his touch left a tingling feeling behind when he pulled away to pat your head.

“I don’t want you to do that again, but I gotta admit,” he ruffles your hair, the scowl on his face morphing into a soft expression.

“That was really cool,” your smile is on your lips almost immediately at his words, and you take your hand and wrap it around his wrist. You pull his hand down and place it again on your face, a bold move that has the both of you slightly blushing.

“You think I’m cool?” your voice sounds sweet when you ask the question, and Suguru thinks he’s never heard you sound like this before but he nods anyway.

“The coolest.”

Neither of you move or say a thing after this, but the prolonged eye contact had the tall male leaning down a bit hesitantly at first, making sure you were okay with it. So when you pull him closer and place your lips on top of his, Suguru is convinced that it was the right thing to do.

The kiss is short and sweet. You pull away after a few seconds and the blush on your cheeks spreads across your entire face when he leans in to give you another kiss. Then another and another.

“Sugu—“

“Shhh, you look cute when you’re flustered.”

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#moon's works #geto suguru #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #geto x you #geto fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen getou #jjk getou #jujutsu geto #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader

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andvys · 1 year

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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 6

Warnings: angst, mentions of heartbreak, alcohol consumption

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Steve finally gets the answer to a question that has been haunting him for days.

Word count: 6k+

A/N: @belokhvostikova remember the ask you sent me about the idea with the denim jacket? I had to include it in this chapter, so thank you hehe <;3

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Steve’s phone kept ringing all day, since the early morning hours. He doesn’t know if it was her or his mom, he didn’t bother to get up and check. At some point, the doorbell rang twice, he didn’t get up to open it either. He wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to see anyone except for you. The thought of you just made him cry harder and made him feel more pathetic about himself – he kept reminding himself that it was him who fucked it all up.

He never felt such self hatred for himself the way he does now. All day, he laid in bed thinking about you and all the things that happened that led him here, getting drunk at a bar he used to hate, wallowing in self pity while he knocks back one drink after the other after throwing his fake ID on the counter.

How will he keep going?

Steve downs his fourth drink of the night and slides the empty glass over to the bartender, asking for another one.

The man gives him a look of concern, eying Steve for a moment.

“Just.. please,” Steve mumbles.

The bartender sighs, shaking his head, he mumbles something under his breath but still, he picks up the bottle and pours the whiskey into the glass, “you’re getting water after this one, son.”

“I have water at home,” Steve says. He reaches for the glass and slides it back towards himself. He leans his elbow on the counter and looks around the mostly empty room. Some rock song is playing in the background, one he doesn’t recognize. There’s a heavy cloud of smoke in the corner of the room where two men are sitting, laughing at some jokes that probably aren’t funny as they smoke their cigarettes and drink their beer.

The door opens and in walks the guy that is probably one of the most irritating people at Hawkins High – to him, at least. Steve bites back a groan when their eyes lock. He turns back around, avoiding eye contact. From the corner of his eye, he sees him walking towards the bar.

“Hey Tony.”

Steve lifts his head a little to see the Bartender smiling.

“Hey Ed, how’s it going?”

Eddie drums his fingers against the wooden counter, he looks around the room, “good, uh, have you seen my notebook? I’ve been looking for it everywhere but I can’t find it – I even cleaned out my van, can you believe it?”

Tony chuckles, “was about time you cleaned out that thing, boy.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, snorting, “yeah, well I’m busy.”

“With what?”

Eddie pretends to think as he raises his brows and looks up at the ceiling, “well, working my ass off so I don’t have to repeat senior year again, I recently found a good tutor,” Eddie smirks, “got myself a muse to help me write the song texts,” Eddie wiggles his brows, making the older man laugh, “working on a new campaign. Oh and of course, how could I forget, comforting the broken hearted – you know, just the usual,” he shrugs as his eyes flicker over to Steve for a moment.

“What a busy man you are, Eddie,” Tony chuckles, shaking his head. He throws the towel on the counter, “I’ll take a look in the back.”

“Thanks man,” Eddie smiles, watching him disappear in the hallways. He turns his head to look at Steve.

“What is King Steve doing at the Hideout?”

Steve turns to face him and Eddie raises his brows in surprise, “damn, you look like shit, man.” Eddie says. Taking in the puffy eyes and the dark circles beneath them, he almost feels bad for him. His hair looks messy, not as perfectly done the way it always is.

“Get lost, freak.”

“Always the douchebag,” Eddie mumbles, rolling his eyes.

Steve turns away, he raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip, swallowing the bitterness.

“Are you pre drinking for the dance tomorrow or are you just drowning your sorrows in alcohol because you finally realized what a piece of shit you are?” Eddie asks. Not being able to hold back.

Steve frowns, he turns to face him. There is something in Eddie’s eyes that Steve can’t read.

“What the hell is your problem?” He asks. Not understanding the anger that is directed at him. They never liked each other but they never attacked each other either. Steve avoided him, he never had the jock’s back when they bullied him but he never really did anything about it either.

Eddie looks at him for a moment. He opens his mouth to speak but decides against it. He sighs and looks away but Steve keeps staring at him. A weird feeling takes over him when he looks down at the jacket Eddie is wearing. His heart stops and his face pales.

It’s that jacket. The one that has been in your room all week. It’s just a normal dark denim jacket, it could just be a similar one, he tells himself. But the Metallica pin on the sleeve is the exact same one that he had seen on the jacket in your room.

Eddie smells like cigarettes and weed, the cologne that he can smell even from a distance is the same one that he had smelled on you. Realization floods through him in a cold wave.

Eddie Munson is the stoner Billy had talked about?

Eddie Munson is the guy you have been seeing?

How did you even meet him?

You never even talked to him when you were still with him.

“You got lucky, Ed,” Tony says, holding up Eddie’s notebook, “you gotta take better care of your things.”

Eddie chuckles, feeling relief. He takes the notebook and sighs, “I know, I know,” he mumbles and steps back, “I’ll see you on Tuesday, Tony.”

“Tell your old man to come by too.”

“Yes sir,” Eddie salutes, grinning at the older man, he takes another look at Steve, who stares into blank space as he holds the half empty glass in his hand. Sighing, he turns around and leaves.

Steve snaps out of his thoughts, he reaches for the wallet in his back pocket and picks out a fifty dollar bill. He throws it on the counter and puts his wallet back into place, he grabs his jacket and makes his way out of the bar, following Eddie.

“Hey! This is too much, kid!”

“Keep the change,” Steve mumbles before he stumbles out into the cold. He clumsily puts on his jacket. The cold air hits him harshly and he suddenly feels much tipsier than he did while he was in there.

Eddie stands by his van, the notebook is tucked under his arm, his hand is cupped over the cigarette that is between his lips as he lights it up.

“Hey!” Steve calls out to him. He stumbles through the snow. He blinks, trying to get rid of the blurriness in his eyes.

Eddie turns around to face him, a curious look residing on his face. He blows the smoke into the other direction and leans against his van.

“What do you want, Harrington?”

Steve stops in front of him. The wind feels harsh on his skin, not even the thick jacket does anything to shield him from the cold. How Eddie is able to walk around with a denim jacket and not freeze to death makes him wonder.

“W-Where did you get that jacket?” He asks. Not knowing what else to ask now that he stands in front of him.

Eddie stares at him with a serious look on his face, eyeing him up and down. “Why?” He asks. “You wanna buy it?”

Steve furrows his brows, he shakes his head, “no?”

“Why do you wanna know?”

Steve’s mind is a little hazy, he feels more drunk than tipsy, right now.

“You’re the stoner.”

Eddie raises his brows, his dark eyes flash with amusement and confusion, “the stoner?” He chuckles and takes another drag from his cigarette. “They usually call me a drug dealer but sure, I’m also a stoner – sometimes.”

Steve shakes his head. “A-Are you with y/n?”

Eddie tilts his head. “With y/n?”

“Are you hooking up with her?” Steve asks, angrily.

A knowing look takes over Eddie’s expression. He pulls back and sighs in annoyance.

“Not that it’s any of your business but no, I don’t take advantage of vulnerable girls. And not everything is about sex,” he glares at him. He feels irritated by Steve and by the way he looks so confused about this revelation.

“Then what is it about?” He slurs. Throwing his hands up.

“Jesus, you’re a real douchebag. Is that all you think about? Sex?” He asks. “Can’t two people that like each other just be friends?”

The look on his face tells him no. For some reason, Steve can’t comprehend that thought. How can Eddie be your friend and not want you? He always wanted you. Ever since you were little kids. He always loved you. He always wanted you to be his – until he didn’t.

Eddie shakes his head and rolls his eyes, he throws the cigarette into the snow and walks away. The sound of Steve’s keys jingling makes him halt in his tracks though. He closes his eyes, annoyance rushes through him. He doesn’t like Steve, he never did and after what he did to you, he started liking him even less but you are his friend and you still care about him. He takes a deep breath and turns around.

“Put those keys away, dude.”

“Huh?” Steve mumbles. Looking up in confusion.

“You’re not driving home like that,” he says. Pointing to his drunken state, he watches Steve trip over a small pile of snow. Maybe if things were different, he would’ve laughed at him. “Get in the van, I’ll drive you home.”

Steve looks at his car, knowing he is in no state to drive himself but he refuses to get into a car with Eddie Munson.

“I’ll walk.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you let the freak drive you home.”

It’s not about that, it’s about you.

Steve looks at Eddie, who stares at him in annoyance.

“Get in the car, dude. She’d kick my ass if she knew that I let you drive home like this.”

Steve looks down for a moment. He takes a few deep breaths and nods. He puts the keys back in his pocket and opens the door, careful not to slip on the icy ground, he looks down and gets into the van.

Eddie jumps into the driver's seat and closes the door. He throws the notebook on the windshield and puts the key into the ignition, startling Steve with the loud music when he starts the car. He scrunches his face up and turns down the volume, “shit, my bad.”

Steve’s heart is pumping in his chest, sighing, he opts to look out the window after putting the seatbelt on.

“Your music sucks.”

“The audacity you have, Harrington,” Eddie scoffs. “Here I am being nice, inviting you into my van and you dare to insult the best music that there is!” He says dramatically.

Eddie hits the buttons, turning on the radio instead, Heroes by David Bowie starts playing, “here, just for you, King Steve.” He snorts. Not knowing that this will turn out to be a bad idea. Steve tenses up when he hears the song but Eddie doesn’t notice, he is too focused on the street as he backs out of the parking spot.

The song takes him back to last year, back to you.

“If you had to give us – our relationship a song, which one would it be?” You asked him as you sat on his lap.

“A Song?" He asked, chuckling.

You nodded with a smile on your face as you looked through your new polaroid pictures that you have taken with him in the snow. He leaned his chin on your shoulder and tightened his grip on your waist.

“Uh– probably, Heroes.”

“By David Bowie?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded, humming. For a moment, it was silent between the two of you, you placed the polaroids back on the table and turned to face him.

“Isn’t it sad though?”

Steve shrugged, not thinking as deeply as you did.

“He sings,” you cleared your throat and looked at him shyly. “And you, you can be mean,

and I, I'll drink all the time. 'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact. Yes we're lovers, and that is that. Though nothing will keep us together. We could steal time just for one day. We can be heroes for ever and ever. What d'you say?”

Steve was smiling at you, his heart was fluttering in his chest and you, you were blushing by the time you were done singing.

He poked your waist and leaned in to kiss your cheek, giving you one of his rare soft moments. “Exactly, he sings ‘we’re lovers’.”

“You are not listening to the rest of the song, Steve!”

“Then keep going.”

“No,” you giggled.

“Please,” he whispered, pouting. “I love your voice.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully. You kissed his cheek and began to sing again, clearly loving the sweet moment between the two of you when he watched you with soft eyes. He cleared his throat and picked you up, laughing at the squeal that fell from your lips, he leaned in to steal a kiss before he placed your feet on the ground. He grabbed your hairbrush from your desk and held it up to his lips.

“I, I will be king and you, you will be queen.” He sang.

You giggled and walked backwards as he began to walk you towards your bed.

“Though nothing will drive them away. We can be Heroes, just for one day.” He furrowed his brows as he tried to remember the rest of the lyrics. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him, “and we kissed, as though nothing could fall.”

“You forgot the rest of the lyrics–” he cut you off with his lips on yours, kissing you passionately. He pulled your body so close against his, he could feel your heartbeat.

Now he feels his heart breaking in his chest.

Maybe it’s the ache in his chest, maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or maybe it’s just a combination of both that makes him break down in Eddie Munson’s van. Startling the man who was bobbing his head to the music until he heard Steve’s quiet sob. Stopping at the red light, he furrows his brows and looks over at Steve.

“Uh– you good?” He asks. He feels a little stupid to ask him that, clearly, Steve is feeling anything but good. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel and presses his lips together. How does he comfort a man that he doesn’t even like?

Steve cries softly, the shame isn’t there yet, right now, he doesn’t care that he is crying in front of Eddie who could tell everyone that King Steve broke down in his car while listening to David Bowie.

“Need a tissue?” Eddie asks even though he knows he doesn’t have any in his van.

Steve just shakes his head, clearly wanting to be left alone.

Eddie nods to himself, taking a deep breath, he sighs. Eddie knows why he is crying, it doesn’t take him long to figure it out. The moment he saw him getting drunk at the Hideout, he just knew.

He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the drive over to Steve’s house. The music and Steve’s soft cries sound through the van. A part of Eddie pities Steve, the other part doesn’t – after all, it’s all his own fault.

He pulls up into Steve’s driveway, still remembering the way to his house from the last party he threw back in august when he had first talked to you. He stops the car and turns down the music a little.

“We’re here.”

Steve nods. He wipes the tears away and he reaches for the door handle but he doesn’t leave, not yet. His eyes fall on the note lying on the floor, it must’ve slipped out from his notebook. He instantly recognizes your handwriting and his heart drops a little when he realizes that you are writing them for someone else now. It’s not affectionate or romantic, the note only says ‘good luck on the test today. Can’t wait for the milkshakes you promised!’ Next to a smiley.

“I miss her.”

Eddie didn’t expect to hear those words from him. He leans back in his seat.

“I-I miss her so much,” he whispers. “I-I don’t know what to do without her. I want her back.”

“You have a girlfriend, man. You left y/n for her,” Eddie mumbles. “Do you even know what you want?”

Steve feels the bile rising in his throat. He feels sick.

“I do now, b-but it’s too late.”

Eddie glances at him. The look of sadness and the tears are genuine and so are his words but there isn’t anything that he could say that could make Steve feel better. He doesn’t deserve you, you are too good for him and you have suffered enough to give him another chance to break you again.

“I don’t know what you wanna hear, dude. You broke her heart and you did it in such a fucked up way too, there’s no coming back from that.”

Steve isn’t sure about what he wanted to hear but it’s definitely not that.

“Just leave her alone, you’re only making things worse,” Eddie sighs as he thinks about you. “Go home, Steve.”

Steve sniffles, he opens the door and nods.

“And don’t ruin the night for her tomorrow.”

Steve’s eyes widen, he looks at him through the tears. “She's coming?”

Eddie nods, “yeah, her friends convinced her to come.” He can see the look in Steve’s eyes, it’s the same one he sees in your eyes. He loves you, which makes everything so much more confusing. Why did he leave you for someone else when he loves you so much?

Steve blinks. He looks down for a moment, staring at the note that makes his heart ache. “Oh okay,” he whispers. “T-Thanks for driving me home.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, this is the most kindness he had ever shown to him.

“Don’t mention it,” he mumbles. He narrows his eyes at him. Steve doesn’t move yet. The look on his face tells him that he wants to say more.

“Spit it out, dude.”

Steve looks up. Tears continue to brim in his eyes, the words are strangled in his throat. He takes a few deep breaths as he tries to stay calm.

“T-Take care of her?”

Eddie wants to tell him that you are capable of taking care of yourself but he decides against it. He nods. Even though he can’t understand why Steve did what he did, he can imagine the self hatred and the sadness he is feeling. A flicker of sympathy flashes in Eddie’s eyes.

“I will.”

Steve almost breaks down when he thinks of your words again, of the way you cried when you begged for him to leave, when you called him bullshit.

He walks away when he feels like breaking down again.

He fumbles with the keys, almost dropping them when his hands begin to shake. He manages to open the door, he steps inside and closes it. Leaning against it, he drops the floor and buries his face in his hands, a broken sob leaves his lips.

He knows he has to let you go, the way you let him go but how?

How?

You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror. You apply the red lipstick that Chrissy convinced you to get when you stopped by the drug store after you bought the dress that you had caught your eye the last time you went shopping with them. A black, glittery dress. It’s not too tight but it’s not a wide one either, though it fits your body perfectly. The straps are thin and it has a cut on the side. You love it. It’s not something you would usually wear, you always opted for the colorful dresses but, you feel like it’s time to switch things up.

How you let them convince you to come to the dance after all? You have no idea but the thought of spending another night filled with tears made you feel miserable.

Heather is standing behind you with the curling iron as she finishes off the rest of your hairstyle.

Some Christmas song is playing on the radio, the room smells like a mix of hairspray and perfume.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask as you stop applying the lipstick.

She hums, glancing at you through your mirror.

Heather purses her lips, she pulls the curling iron away from your hair and twists the wave.

“Is it just me or is Chrissy being weird towards me?”

“What do you mean?” She asks. But you can see the knowing look in her eyes, you know she – they are both not telling you something.

She runs her fingers through your hair and smooths down your waves and applies more hairspray.

“She’s just, I don’t know. I feel like she’s keeping something from me,” you mumble. “And she seemed so sad when I agreed to go with you.”

Heather hesitates to speak up. You can tell that she is trying to come up with a lie.

“She’s probably just sad because she has to go with Jason Carver.”

You look down at your painted nails and nod, “yeah, I guess.”

“Which I totally get, who would want to go with him?” Heather tries to change the topic, you know she is.

“Literally no one,” you snort. “But he will probably be the new King of Hawkins High once Steve and Billy graduate and the naive freshman girls will throw themselves at him,” you say with a disgusted look on your face.

“God, that’s a disgusting thought,” Heather says. “Let’s talk about something else – look at you,” she smirks as she leans down, placing her finger under your chin, she raises your head, “queen of Haw–”

“Don’t say that,” you groan as you tilt your head up to look at her.

She chuckles and ruffles your hair a little. “You look amazing, now get your ass into that dress and let’s go. Maybe Munson will show up for you and steal you for a dance,” she wiggles her brows.

You roll your eyes but you can’t fight the smile off your face.

“Shut up,” you mumble. You reach for your half finished drink. Maybe it’s not a good idea to drink alcohol but you need it, right now. You don’t plan on getting drunk, just a little tipsy to make it through the night.

You both finish getting ready, you put your dresses on and take a few polaroid pictures in front of the fairy lights in your room. You throw a mint into your mouth and spray more perfume on yourself, hoping that your mom won’t smell the wine on you.

She doesn’t notice it or at least, it seems like she doesn’t. She takes more pictures of you and Heather in front of the Christmas tree before you leave.

The school hall is bustling with people, loud music is playing and everything is decorated in gold, red and green colors – fitting the Christmas season. Your arm is linked with Heather’s. She seems excited, you feel overwhelmed.

The lights are flashing, girls in colorful dresses rush past you with their dates. You look around, trying to spot Chrissy but you don’t see her anywhere. You sigh, the first few minutes of a big event are always the most awkward ones.

Where do you stand? Where do you sit? Who do you talk to? Is it too early to dance? Is it too early to leave?

“Hey, are you okay?” Heather asks.

You nod, smiling at her.

“You seem a little overwhelmed.”

“I’m fine, I-I just need something to drink.”

“A drink?” A deeper voice asks. One that instantly makes you roll your eyes.

Billy steps in front of you with a smirk on his face, he eyes you up and down before he looks over at Heather, checking her out as well. He is wearing a tux, the button down underneath the jacket is almost fully unbuttoned.

“You look slutty, Billy.” You joke, “you’re lucky Mrs. Myers isn’t around or you’d be sent home for violating the dress code.”

He chuckles darkly, leaning closer to you, he holds up one finger, “the slutty look is exactly what I was going for.”

“As always,” you snort.

“Do you wanna dance?” Billy asks you.

“No thanks but Heather wants to dance.”

She turns to you with wide eyes and red cheeks.

“I know you want to,” you whisper into her ear before you pull away and place her hand into Billy’s, who smirks at you.

“I’ll drown you in the punch if you don’t treat her well.”

He only laughs in amusement, clearly not taking the threat seriously.

“Y/n?” Heather glares at you.

“Have fun, babe.”

You know all about her not so secret crush on Billy – she is good at hiding it but you saw right through it.

You make your way over to the snack table. Waving at some of the girls from the cheer squad who are taking pictures with their dates.

A huge bowl is in the middle of the table, filled with red liquid and fresh fruit. You wonder if someone spiked it with alcohol yet. You pour some of it into a cup and take a sip. Definitely spiked. You down the rest of the drink and pour yourself a second cup.

“Hey.”

You freeze. You stare down at your drink. Yeah, you definitely need the alcohol tonight. You haven’t talked to him since that night, you sat next to him during English class today and you had submitted the essay together but you didn’t talk and you hoped that it would stay that way. You didn’t want to talk to him anymore.

“Careful with the punch, Tommy spiked it.”

You turn around to face him, his eyes widen a little when he takes in the sight of you. He looks you up and down, not in the same way Billy did but in a way that leaves your skin crawling and your heart racing.

He is wearing a black tuxedo with a red bow tie. His hair looks amazing as always but his eyes are filled with sadness.

“Good,” you mumble as you drink the spiked punch.

“Y-You look beautiful,” Steve says. His heart flutters, you steal his breath away. The dark eyeshadow makes your eye color more prominent. Your red lips look so kissable and the dress looks like it was made for you. You are perfect.

“Where’s your girlfriend, Steve?” You sigh. You refuse to look into his eyes, knowing that it will only make things worse.

He blinks, furrowing his brows. He looks over your shoulder to where she’s standing with Jonathan, smiling at him. “She’s uh–” he stops talking when he sees you walking away. He sighs, clenching his hand into a fist, “shit..”

You already feel like going home – you knew you would run into him, you still weren’t prepared, you never are. You are sick of the feeling he leaves you with whenever you see him. You are so over it.

You take a seat at your assigned table and look around, finally spotting Chrissy in the crowd. She’s dancing with Jason, you can see the forced smile even from a mile away.

You can’t stand him. You always hated the way he treats others – the way he thinks that he is so much better than everyone else and the way he thinks he can have anyone he wants. The way he uses Mrs. Cunningham’s liking towards him to force himself into Chrissy’s life, knowing that she doesn’t actually like him.

You relax a little when you see Heather heading towards Chrissy, pulling her away from Jason so that they can dance together. You lean back in the chair and sip on your drink.

You wish you would have stayed at home.

You wish you would have listened to Eddie when he said that this sucks.

You feel like a loser, sitting by yourself at this empty table, sipping one drink after the other as your eyes continuously move back to him. You see him with her and it breaks your heart all over again. By now, you should be used to it and you were – you have gotten used to this. To him not being yours anymore, to him loving someone else, to him being with someone else but then he turned everything upside down.

His confession left you in shambles. He had broken everything, again. All the strength you have gathered since the day he left you, he took it all away from you with a few words and a kiss that almost happened.

He loves you, that’s what he said. But he is here, holding her in his arms, kissing her as though he didn’t try to kiss you, two nights ago. He is dancing with her, whispering things into her and holding her tightly.

None of it makes sense to you.

If he loves you so much, then why is he dancing with her as though nothing ever happened?

Why is he still with her?

Is she a rebound now or were you just the backup plan all along?

The girl he’d come back to once things with her go downhill?

Are they already going downhill?

Is that why he told you he still loves you?

So that he has someone to come back to?

You feel so miserable. The longer you stare at him. You begin to feel worse and worse.

Not even a dance with your friends helps you lift your mood. Not even the compliments and the nice things that people have said to you tonight, make you feel better. Nothing makes you feel better but you force a smile on your face, a happy one. The way you always do and you dance with Heather and Chrissy, holding their hands and pretending to have the time of your life when all you wanna do is go home and cry yourself to sleep.

It’s when you find yourself sitting on the bleachers with a sad expression on your face, ready to say ‘fuck it’ and go home, that your night takes a turn for the better.

You don’t hear the footsteps coming your way, you are too busy looking at all the happy couples. Someone clears their throat.

“May the Master of Dungeons have a dance with the ethereal Queen of Hawkins High?”

Your eyes widen and a smile tugs at your lips, you straighten up and turn to look at Eddie who playfully bows in front of you with a smile on his face, getting a few weird looks from the other, which neither of you care about.

A giggle falls from your lips, “Eddie!”

“Come on, give me your hand, Queen.”

You laugh and place your hand in his. He pulls you up and smiles at you when your eyes lock. “Look at you,” he beams. He raises your hand over your head, “give me a twirl,” he winks.

You roll your eyes, playfully. Giving him the twirl that he asked for, you can’t help but giggle when he begins to whistle.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart!”

He grabs your waist when you stumble a little. He instantly smells the alcohol on you.

“Thank you, Eddie.”

He eyes you with a smile on his face, “love the smokey eyes and the dress – honestly, you look like a witchy fairy.”

“A witchy fairy?” You laugh, tilting your head.

He puts his hand over his heart, “I mean that as a compliment – a badass witchy, fairy, shit, I’m gonna have to create a character based on you now.”

You shake your head, laughing at the concentrated look on his face. He is wearing a white button down, a few buttons are left undone, one of his tattoos is peeking out from beneath the shirt, and a silver chain is around his neck. His curly hair looks as good as always.

“You look amazing, Eddie.”

He raises his brows in surprise, his dark eyes light up.

“Thank you, badass fairy witch,” he winks. “Look, I stole these pants from Wayne, I have none without holes in them,” he laughs, pointing to the black pants he is wearing.

You can’t even help but giggle.

“I thought this isn’t your thing,” you say. Gesturing to the dance.

He shrugs, “yeah well, I thought you could use a dance partner.”

Your gaze softens. A feeling of warmth and comfort rushes through you. “You came for me?”

He holds your hand tighter, “who else would I come here for?” He asks as he looks into your big eyes.

“My knight in shining armor,” you tease.

He snorts at your words, “come on.” He says as he pushes you in front of him and leads you into the middle of the dance floor, pushing some jock out of the way. You can feel the eyes on you, you can see the weird looks from the cheerleaders when they see you with Eddie. It only makes you scoff at them.

A squeal leaves your lips when Eddie suddenly twirls you again, laughing when you hold onto his hand tightly. He wraps his arms around you from behind and leans in, “let me guess, you had some of that spiked punch?” He whispers into your ear.

"Absolutely,” you giggle and turn around to face him. You place your hands on his shoulders.

“Bad girl,” he smirks, tapping your nose.

“I learned from the best.” You tap his nose back, making him laugh.

Steve watches you and Eddie with an irritated look on his face. You seem so carefree and happy with him. So familiar. Like you have known each other for a long time already. You melt into his touch so easily and laugh at whatever he is whispering into your ear.

The feeling in his chest is sickening. He knows it’s jealousy. He can’t do anything about it though. The girl in his arms is his, you aren’t – not anymore.

Every breath you take by The Police starts playing. Some leave the dance floor, some stay to slow dance with their partner. Steve pulls Nancy closer and looks over her shoulder to see what you will do.

Eddie pulls you closer and you wrap your arms around him, you lay your head on his chest, melting into him so easily. It breaks Steve’s heart a little. He feels tense, it’s hard to see you with someone else, even when Eddie said that there is nothing but friendship between the two of you, it certainly looks more than just that to Steve.

You don’t even notice the weird looks you are getting from the people around you. You are only focused on him. The thought of you and Eddie somehow hurts more than the thought of you and Billy. Because Billy would be nothing more than a hookup but Eddie? Eddie is a good guy, one who will treat you well and love you the way he couldn’t.

“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks as she lifts her head to look at him.

“Yeah,” he mumbles with a frown on his face. “Why?”

Her blue eyes are filled with confusion, she shrugs, “you seem tense.”

“I’m fine, Nance,” he says, softly.

“Okay,” she smiles.

When she lays her head on his chest, he squeezes her and looks back up. His breath hitches in his throat when his eyes lock with yours as you rest your chin on Eddie’s shoulder, who’s back is turned towards him. For a moment, you look at each other. Steve’s heart begins to beat faster in his chest, the longer you look at each other. He longs for you. This, all of this, feels so wrong. He shouldn’t be here with her and you shouldn’t be there with him.

But while his eyes soften, your eyes harden.

His are filled with longing and sadness.

Yours are filled with indifference.

You look at each other for a few long seconds and then you take one final look at him before you tear your eyes away from him. Somehow, that felt like a stab to his heart because that moment felt like the end. The realization that it is truly over makes his blood run cold. He feels paralyzed by the pain that he had caused himself.

Eddie tightens his hold on you when he feels how tense you are, he looks down at you with a look of concern in his eyes.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

"Yes, please."

next part

only tagging friends & mutuals

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @screammunson @hellfire--cult @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #stranger things angst

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foone · 1 month

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It's sometimes hard to talk about silly counterfactual or just bad theories, because other people don't always understand the difference between "I'm making up a bad idea because it's amusing to me to consider the ramifications and functionality of a clearly bad idea" and "I have untreated schizophrenia".

Because the former is funny and amusing to me! I love it. And the second is... Not. It's mean to laugh at people's mental illness. And even if the content sometimes is similar, it's the larger context of it that makes it unfun to laugh at, at least for me. Maybe this doesn't bother other people as much?

It's like when I talk about weird computer ideas and someone goes "oh like TempleOS?" and it's... No! I'm into doing silly things with computers because I find that amusing and funny. I do not find TempleOS to be anything of the sort.

If the same content existed, but by someone who did it as a joke? Instead of someone with an admitted mental illness who got lolcow'd to death by 4chan? Yeah it'd be hilarious! I'd be all over that shit. But I know the background to why it's like this, and that is simply not funny to me. Enough so that it ruins any possible enjoyment for me. So TempleOS is nothing but a sad story to me, of a brilliant programmer who suffered from a severe mental illness that he eventually died from.

Maybe it's just my own struggles with mental health and all, but I just can't enjoy those kinds of things. Maybe it's just that other people don't as easily recognize the difference between "this bad idea is being explored for the amusement of the author, who is fully aware of how bad it is" and "this idea is being written about seriously by an author suffering from a severe mental illness".

Though if that was the case, you'd expect there to be more people assuming my writing is schizophrenic? Which basically never happens, it's just people going "oh this is like..." and naming something that was written by someone with schizophrenia or other psychotic condition. Maybe the comparison doesn't bother others as much? It just sometimes feels like people are going "oh, your joke reminds me of this other thing that isn't funny and is just sad"

Anyways, just to be clear, I don't mean that I have anything against people suffering from mental illness (which I hope should be obvious to most people?), or even their writing. It's just that "wacky things" aren't funny to me when they're clearly being written by someone suffering some kind of psychosis. It's the laughing at it that I have a problem with.

Like it's one thing to laugh when your buddy randomly goes "cinnamon eyeglasses!" because they're being a weirdo. It's a completely different thing to laugh at someone saying that because they just had a stroke and parts of their brain aren't functioning anymore. That's a bit what it's like to go "lol, TempleOS is so weird!". You're laughing at someone's illness. And frankly that's just kind of a dick move no matter what, you know?

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gyorouis · 2 months

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𐙚 HOPELESSLY YOURS - CYJ

— you don't want to be his girlfriend? well he theorizes you are just in denial.

genre: fluff, crack, strangers to lovers trope ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

pairing: persistent suitor!yeonjun x afab!reader

warning: kiss (?), lots of swearing, kms jokes, if i forgot anything pls let me know !!

word count: 8.1k (lol)

now playing: eraserheads — ligaya ୨ৎ

the hall buzzed with chatter and laughter as the alumni homecoming party got into full swing. yeonjun walked in, greeted by the familiar sights and sounds of old friends and acquaintances. he quickly spotted his group in the corner, huddled around a table far from the dance floor and the bar, where most people were gathered.

“yeonjun! over here!” soobin waved, standing up to give his friend a quick hug.

beomgyu was already slouched in his chair, scrolling through his phone with a look of pure boredom. hueningkai and taehyun were quietly chatting, occasionally glancing around the room as if to make sure no one was watching them too closely.

“finally, you’re here,” taehyun said with a smirk. “thought you were gonna ditch us for some popular crowd.”

yeonjun grinned, pulling out a chair to join them. “as if i’d leave you guys to fend for yourselves.”

“parties, man. never really amuses me,” beomgyu muttered, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

taehyun chuckled, “funny coming from the guy who never missed a single one in college.”

the group laughed, the sound carrying memories of their younger days. there was a comfortable silence that followed as they all seemed to drift back to the past.

“remember how beomgyu used to pick fights with anyone who looked at him funny?” soobin said, a teasing smile on his face.

“or when yeonjun and taehyun nearly killed each other over the mvp title during high school?” hueningkai added, his eyes sparkling with the memory.

“don’t forget hueningkai’s epic rants about being stood up during highschool,” taehyun said, nudging kai with his elbow.

“hey, that was a dark time for me!” hueningkai pouted, making everyone laugh.

“and soobin... staying up late, obsessing over keeping his room spotless before we came over for sleepovers,” yeonjun added, grinning at the tall guy.

“hey, someone had to make sure you guys didn’t destroy the place,” soobin replied, chuckling.

they exchanged looks, the kind that only old friends could share, and smiled at each other, a genuine warmth settling over them. it was soobin who broke the silence.

“remember the time when yeonjun was courting y/n?” he asked, eyes twinkling with mischief.

yeonjun immediately groaned, covering his face with his hand. “why do you have to bring that up?”

hueningkai jumped in, “oh, and the way he cried when y/n rejected him the first time? classic.”

they all chuckled at the memory, and yeonjun couldn’t help but smile, even if it was at his own expense. how could he forget about it? afterall, you are the first girl who ever made him question himself.

“no, i don’t want to be your girlfriend.” your voice was steady, almost monotone, and it hit yeonjun like a lightning bolt. rejection? from you?

yeonjun wasn’t used to this. in high school, girls practically lined up to say yes to him, like their lives depended on it. but you… you were different. you didn’t even know who he was until college orientation, when you were both sophomores. the first time he saw you, assisting students with your hair in a messy ponytail, yeonjun was completely captivated.

since that day, he made it his mission to find out everything about you, even going so far as to befriend professors to make sure he took the same minors as you.

“dude, i think she likes me,” yeonjun announced one evening, smirking as the five of them sat in a pc cafe. beomgyu gave him a skeptical look.

“the fuck you talking about?” beomgyu muttered, not bothering to look away from his game.

“i mean, she looks at me,” yeonjun said, giggling as he recalled the time you watched him during an extemporaneous speech competition.

“she’s got eyes, dude,” soobin replied without missing a beat.

“wasn’t that when you were giving a speech?” taehyun added, earning a groan from yeonjun.

“and she clapped,” yeonjun argued, trying to ignore the fact that it was just polite to clap after a performance.

“everybody claps, dude,” hueningkai finished, making yeonjun tsk in frustration before turning his attention back to the game.

it had been like this for a good couple of months—yeonjun’s subtle attempts to catch your attention, his not-so-subtle theories about your feelings for him, and your complete obliviousness to it all. he was persistent, though, and eventually, he decided it was time to take the first real move.

one day, during a small thesis preparation session, you were flipping through pages of research, trying to figure out a topic that wouldn’t bore you to death. the professor had assigned everyone a two-person thesis project, and the thought of finding a partner had been weighing on your mind. you were about to ask one of your friends when yeonjun suddenly appeared beside you, his voice confident and almost commanding.

“hey, you’re my partner for the thesis,” he declared, not even bothering to ask if you agreed.

you blinked, staring at him in confusion. “uh… excuse me?”

“you heard me,” he said with a grin, and before you could protest or even process what was happening, he was already halfway out the door. “see you tomorrow for our first meeting!”

you sat there, dumbfounded. as far as you could remember, you’d never had any significant interaction with yeonjun during the entire semester. he’d only recently transferred into your schedule, and other than the occasional nod in the hallway or a brief hello in class, there was nothing between the two of you. yet here he was, claiming you as his thesis partner as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

the next day, you found yourself in the library, seated at a table piled high with books and notes. you were trying to focus on the thesis outline when yeonjun walked in, looking far too cheerful for someone about to dive into hours of research.

“ready to get started?” he asked, sliding into the seat across from you.

“i guess,” you replied, still a bit wary of him. “so, why did you pick me as your partner? there were plenty of other people you could’ve asked.”

yeonjun shrugged, giving you one of those infuriatingly charming smiles. “i figured you’d be the best match for me. plus, i heard you’re really smart.”

you raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. “you don’t even know me.”

“sure i do,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “you’re y/n. you’re always on top of things, you’re not afraid to speak your mind, and you have this cool way of looking at the world. who wouldn’t want you as a partner?”

his words left you momentarily speechless. was he seriously trying to flatter you? and more importantly, was he succeeding? you pushed the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand.

“well, if we’re going to work together, we need to set some ground rules,” you said, trying to sound firm. “no slacking off, no leaving everything to the last minute, and definitely no distractions.”

yeonjun held up his hands in mock surrender. “whatever you say, boss.”

despite your initial reservations, the study session went surprisingly well. yeonjun was focused and surprisingly knowledgeable about the topic you’d chosen. you found yourself actually enjoying the collaboration, even if he did have a habit of cracking jokes at the most inappropriate moments.

“so, after we finish this part, we should—” you started to say, but yeonjun interrupted.

“take a break and get some ice cream?”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “finish the outline first, then we’ll talk about ice cream.”

“deal,” yeonjun agreed, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

after a few more study sessions, yeonjun’s persistence only grew. he started finding excuses to hang out with you more often, from asking you to help him with other assignments to randomly showing up wherever you were. it was clear he was trying to make a move, but you weren’t sure how to respond.

one day after class, yeonjun casually invited you to join him and his friends for lunch.

“you should come sit with us today,” yeonjun said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

you hesitated, not sure if you were ready to dive into his social circle. “um… i don’t know…”

“come on, it’ll be fun,” he urged, flashing that smile of his, the one that made it really hard to say no. “my friends are cool, i promise.”

reluctantly, you agreed. before you knew it, you were walking with yeonjun toward the cafeteria, your nerves tightening with each step.

as you approached the crowded cafeteria, yeonjun spotted his friends before you did. “there they are!” he waved, his voice tinged with excitement. you followed his gaze and saw a group of people sitting at a table, chatting animatedly.

the first person who caught your eye was a guy with long hair and white streaks. he was looking at the two of you with a teasing glint in his eyes, and you immediately felt your brows knit in confusion. yeonjun just gave you a knowing smile before gesturing for you to walk with him to their table.

“hey, this is y/n!” yeonjun introduced you, his voice a little too enthusiastic. you glanced around the table, trying to take in everyone at once. there was a tall guy who seemed taller even when he’s sitting down, and beside him was a girl who looked like she could be his girlfriend. across from them, another guy with bleached hair sat next to a girl who had a bright, friendly smile.

“hi! i’m beomgyu!” the long-haired guy with the white streaks grinned at you, clearly the one who had been teasing yeonjun earlier. you smiled back, nodding in acknowledgment.

before you could say anything, another guy with silver hair, his aura not as bright as the others, piped up. “dude, there are no pepsi today, we got you coke and lemonade instead.”

you realized he was talking to yeonjun, who just nodded and gave a small “thanks” before turning back to you.

“what are you waiting for? christmas? sit!” beomgyu gestured for you to sit, and you chuckled before finding a seat between yeonjun and the girl next to the tall guy.

the lunch was surprisingly fun. the guys bantered nonstop, making you laugh more than you had in a while. you quickly found yourself warming up to soobin, the tall guy, and his girlfriend, she had introduced herself to you as well. they were sweet and easy to talk to, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful that yeonjun had asked you to join them.

“so, y/n,” beomgyu leaned in, that mischievous grin back on his face, “how long have you been putting up with yeonjun?”

you rolled your eyes playfully, trying to play along. “not long,” you replied. “we’re thesis partners, so i guess i’m stuck with him for a while.”

“poor thing,” taehyun, the silver haired one, said with mock sympathy, earning laughter from the rest of the group.

as the conversation flowed, you found yourself getting into a lighthearted debate with soobin about the best study spots on campus. what started as a simple disagreement somehow turned into a full-blown group discussion about everything from favorite coffee shops to weird professors.

just as you were starting to feel truly comfortable, beomgyu decided to stir the pot. “anyway, y/n, how long have you two been dating?” he asked casually, his tone too innocent to be genuine.

you nearly choked on your food. “w-we’re not dating!” you stammered, your face burning with embarrassment.

yeonjun, who had been in the middle of taking a bite of his sandwich, almost spit it out in surprise. “yeah, what she said!” he quickly added, his voice a little too loud, his eyes wide with panic.

“aw, come on, you two would be cute together,” beomgyu teased, waggling his eyebrows, clearly enjoying the chaos he was causing.

“seriously, beomgyu, knock it off,” taehyun said, though his smirk made it clear he was just as amused as beomgyu.

you shot yeonjun a look, silently pleading with him to say something, anything, to shut beomgyu up. but yeonjun just laughed it off, nudging you playfully. the moment you started stammering, denying it with all your might, yeonjun felt his own cheeks heat up. he had quickly jumped in to support your denial, but the damage had been done. he could see the embarrassment written all over your face, and it made his heart sink.

“relax, y/n,” he said, his tone light and teasing. “he’s just messing with you.”

you managed a weak smile, but inside, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this lunch had been a terrible idea. as much as you were starting to like yeonjun’s friends, the attention and teasing were making you feel overwhelmed. as much as he wanted to laugh it off, to make you feel at ease, he couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in the back of his mind. maybe he had pushed too hard, too fast. maybe bringing you into his world like this had been a mistake.

but then he saw you smiling weakly, trying to laugh along with the rest of them, and he felt a pang of guilt. he had wanted to share his friends with you, to make you feel welcome, but now he wasn’t so sure if that was what you wanted.

as the lunch went on, yeonjun found himself glancing at you more often, trying to gauge how you were feeling. when you finally caught his eye, he offered you a small, apologetic smile, hoping it was enough to convey what he couldn’t put into words.

the night was the same as usual, the five of them scattered around soobin’s living room, snacks strewn everywhere. yeonjun was pacing back and forth, running his fingers through his hair for what felt like the millionth time, repeating the same thing he’d been saying all night.

“i’m telling you guys, she likes me!”

the collective groan that followed was almost in perfect harmony.

“yeonjun, this is like, the eighth time this week you’ve said that,” taehyun muttered, rubbing his temples. “and it’s only wednesday.”

“i think she does,” hueningkai chimed in, leaning back against the couch, his tone thoughtful. yeonjun’s eyes lit up, only to dim a second later when kai added, “...but she doesn’t want to be in a relationship with you.”

yeonjun’s smile dropped as fast as it had appeared, and he shot hueningkai a sharp look. “what do you mean by that?”

beomgyu snickered from his spot on the floor, popping a chip into his mouth. “who would want to be with you, though?” he said with a smirk.

without missing a beat, yeonjun pointed dramatically at beomgyu, echoing his words with exaggerated emphasis. “WHO WOULD WANT to be with you!”

beomgyu burst into laughter, clearly satisfied with the reaction he’d gotten, and soon everyone else was laughing too—except for yeonjun, of course.

“i’m serious, guys!” yeonjun insisted, crossing his arms over his chest. “she’s gonna be my girlfriend, and when that happens, i. will. kill. y’all.”

beomgyu shrugged nonchalantly, barely containing his grin. “well, i guess i’m going to live a long life then.”

the room erupted in laughter again, and yeonjun threw a pillow at beomgyu, who dodged it with ease.

before yeonjun could argue further, his mind drifted back to earlier that day—back to when you had looked him dead in the eye and shattered his confidence in one fell swoop.

“are you even listening?” your sharp voice snapped him back to reality.

he blinked, realizing he had been spacing out. “w-what were you saying again?”

“i said i don’t want to be your girlfriend,” you repeated, the words hitting him like a ton of bricks.

his eyes widened in shock. “huh? i mean, why?” he blurted out, completely dumbfounded.

you stared at him in disbelief. “what the fuck do you mean, why?”

“like, uh... why?” he repeated, sounding even more clueless.

you sighed, exasperated. “why? well, who asks someone to be their girlfriend like they’re asking about the weather?!” you hissed, lowering your voice to avoid drawing attention from the other students.

yeonjun scratched the back of his neck in defeat, letting out an awkward chuckle. “so… no?”

“didn’t i just say that?” you retorted, raising an eyebrow.

before yeonjun could attempt to salvage the situation, the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period. you grabbed your things and stood up. “i’m going to my next class. i’ll just see you around.”

yeonjun watched you walk away, his mind reeling. see you around? even after blatantly rejecting him, you still expected to see him around? he took a deep breath, trying to shake off the embarrassment, and then smiled to himself.

later that day, back in soobin’s living room, yeonjun was ready to reveal his latest revelation.

“dude, i have a new theory...” yeonjun began, his eyes sparkling with renewed determination.

another round of groans filled the room, this time louder and more exaggerated.

“have you lost your mind? you were just crying earlier, saying, ‘fuck, she doesn’t like me, dude, i think i’m gonna die,’ and now you’re yapping again about some new theory?” beomgyu said, rubbing his eyes.

“dude, you can practically publish a book about your theories at this point,” soobin added, not even trying to hide his exasperation.

“this is the last time, i promise!” yeonjun said, holding up his hands in a gesture of sincerity that none of them believed for a second.

the four of them released a collective sigh, clearly not convinced. “say it,” hueningkai said, gesturing for yeonjun to continue.

“well, uh... i think she likes me... BUT! but, she’s in denial,” yeonjun announced, looking immensely proud of himself.

there was a brief, heavy silence before soobin broke it with a sigh so deep it sounded like it came from his soul. “god... i feel sorry for you, dude. to be honest.”

“that’s not impossible,” beomgyu chimed in, and everyone turned to look at him, surprised that he was actually supporting yeonjun’s theory. but then, with a wicked grin, he added, “that is... if she hasn’t lost her mind yet.”

soobin didn’t hesitate to smack beomgyu upside the head. “we’re being honest here, dumbass.”

“i am telling the truth,” beomgyu protested, rubbing the back of his head.

before yeonjun could dive further into his theory, taehyun, who had been quiet up until now, spoke up. “give it time.”

“huh?” yeonjun blinked, caught off guard.

“i said give it time,” taehyun repeated, his voice calm and steady. “you don’t have any reason to rush things.”

“yeah, thought so,” soobin agreed, nodding. “besides, if you keep pushing, you might just push her away for good.”

yeonjun sighed, flopping down onto the couch between taehyun and hueningkai. “you guys might be right... but what if i’m right too?”

“well, then maybe—maybe—we’ll help you plan your wedding,” beomgyu teased, barely holding back a laugh.

“yeah, and i’ll be the best man,” hueningkai added, grinning.

“only if i get to be the one who objects during the ceremony,” soobin quipped.

“you’re all assholes,” yeonjun groaned, but he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. as frustrating as it was, he knew they were right. he would just have to be patient and see how things played out.

but that didn’t mean he was giving up on you—not by a long shot.

you tried to distance yourself from yeonjun a bit. it wasn’t that you didn’t like him—on the contrary, you found him charming in a strange, infuriating way. but the attention, the teasing, and the constant questioning were too much for you. you weren’t used to this kind of pressure, and you weren’t sure how to deal with it.

but yeonjun was nothing if not persistent. he continued to show up at your study sessions, continued to find reasons to hang out with you, and continued to wear down your defenses with that disarming smile of his.

“you can’t avoid me forever, you know,” he said one day as you both sat in the library, working on your thesis. he had that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes, the one that told you he was up to something.

“i’m not avoiding you,” you replied, keeping your eyes on your notes. “i’m just… busy.”

“busy avoiding me,” he teased, leaning a little closer to you.

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet, you still agreed to be my partner,” he pointed out, his grin widening.

“only because you didn’t give me a choice,” you shot back, though there was no real heat in your words.

“true,” he admitted, leaning back in his chair. “but i think you’re starting to like me.”

you scoffed, trying to hide the way your heart skipped a beat at his words. “in your dreams, yeonjun.”

he just laughed, a warm, genuine sound that made your chest tighten in a way you weren’t ready to acknowledge. “maybe,” he said, shrugging as if it didn’t matter, though the playful gleam in his eyes told a different story. “but hey, dreams have a way of becoming reality.”

you tried to focus on your work, but yeonjun’s presence was impossible to ignore. the way he leaned back in his chair, casually confident, as if he knew exactly how much he was getting under your skin. it was infuriating, and yet there was something oddly comforting about his persistence.

“seriously, though,” he continued after a moment, his tone softening just a fraction. “i get that you’re not used to all this—hanging out with a new group, getting teased and stuff. but you don’t have to deal with it alone. i’m here, you know?”

his words caught you off guard, and you glanced up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his expression. “why do you care so much?” you asked, genuinely curious.

yeonjun’s smile faltered for just a second before he recovered, leaning forward slightly. “because… i like you, y/n. and not just as my thesis partner. i know i can be a lot to handle, but i want to get to know you better. and i want you to know me too.”

your heart skipped another beat, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. yeonjun had always been confident, maybe even a little cocky, but there was something vulnerable in the way he looked at you now, something that made you realize that his persistence wasn’t just a game to him.

“yeonjun…” you began, but he cut you off, shaking his head with a small, rueful smile.

“you don’t have to say anything now,” he said quickly. “i just wanted you to know where i stand. we can keep working on this thesis and see where things go, no pressure.”

you nodded, your thoughts a jumbled mess. yeonjun’s confession had thrown you off balance, and suddenly the lines between friendship, partnership, and something more seemed a lot blurrier than they had before.

“okay,” you finally said, your voice quieter than you intended. “but… let’s just take it slow, okay?”

yeonjun’s smile returned, softer this time, and he reached out to gently tap your hand with his fingers. “slow is good,” he agreed. “i’m not going anywhere.”

you found yourself smiling back, a warmth spreading through you that you couldn’t quite explain. maybe yeonjun was right—maybe you were starting to like him, just a little bit. and perhaps, that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

one night, you woke up to the sound of low murmurs around you. disoriented, you looked around, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. you were both working on your thesis and were at your house, but you could hear the faint clinking of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. you groggily got up, stretching your arms and shuffling towards the source of the sound.

in the kitchen, you found yeonjun and your mom busy cooking. the scene was oddly comforting: your mom, apron on, and yeonjun, looking surprisingly at ease in your home. the smell of sinigang filled the air, and yeonjun was animatedly talking about how much he loved your mom’s cooking, from her turon, empanadas to her banana cue and kamote cue. and even though it was scorching hot outside, he hadn’t let your mom’s ginataang bilo-bilo go to waste.

“hey,” you said, breaking their conversation. “what’s going on here?”

“oh, you’re just in time,” your mom said with a smile. “the rice is almost ready. yeonjun helped me with dinner tonight.”

yeonjun turned to you with a grin. “yeah, your mom is an amazing cook. i may have talked her ear off about how much i love her food.”

“i swear, it’s like your mom has magic in her hands,” he said dramatically. “i couldn’t let any of it go to waste, especially having a taste of that sinigang we just cooked? god, it was so good, i nearly cried.”

you raised an eyebrow, walking over to the stove and peering into the pot. “so, you’ve been raving about my mom’s cooking to her face, and now you’re here in our kitchen, making yourself at home?”

yeonjun, trying to look innocent, shrugged. “i figured, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. and if you’re going to be in my life, you might as well get used to my mom’s cooking too.”

your mom was beaming with pride. “he’s been a delight to have around. and besides, it’s nice to have someone appreciate my cooking so much.”

you glanced at yeonjun, you laughed, shaking your head. “i see you’re getting along just fine.”

“getting along? we’re practically best friends now,” yeonjun said, pretending to clink imaginary glasses with your mom. “we’ve bonded over food and shared laughs. next thing you know, we’ll be singing karaoke together.”

your mom chuckled. “oh, don’t tempt him. he’s already asked me if he could join us for karaoke night.”

“see?” yeonjun said, giving you a thumbs-up. “i’m fitting in perfectly.”

the conversation shifted to the final touches of the meal. your mom had whipped up a feast that included sinigang, a side of crispy lumpia, and yeonjun’s personal favorite, turon. as you all sat down to eat, yeonjun began a somewhat clumsy yet endearing attempt at conversation.

“hey,” he started, his mouth full of lumpia, “what’s your favorite dish your mom makes?”

“that’s a tough one,” you said, laughing. “i’d have to say the empanadas. they’re a family favorite.”

“good choice,” yeonjun said, nodding vigorously. “i was about to say the same thing. but honestly, everything your mom makes is amazing.”

“flattery will get you everywhere,” your mom said with a wink.

yeonjun looked at you, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “so, now that i’ve been properly introduced to your mom’s cooking, are you finally going to admit that i’m not so bad after all?”

“admit?” you said, raising an eyebrow. “you’re lucky my mom likes you. that’s the only reason you’re not getting kicked out right now.”

yeonjun feigned a dramatic gasp. “kicked out? but i’ve just started my career as your unofficial sous-chef!”

your mom laughed heartily, adding, “don’t worry, yeonjun. i’m quite fond of you already. just don’t let it go to your head.” you laughed, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. the evening had turned into a delightful mess of food, laughter, and unexpected bond your mom and yeonjun made.

after dinner, you decided to walk yeonjun to the nearest jeep terminal. the evening air was cooler, and the streetlights cast a soft glow over the two of you. as you walked, yeonjun suddenly brought up a topic that made you stop in your tracks.

“your mom approved,” he said, smirking.

“approved of what?” you asked, confused.

“of me courting you,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“what the f—” you began, but yeonjun quickly covered your mouth with his hand.

“can you please calm down? you’re unbelievable,” he said, chuckling.

“why the heck did you tell my mom you’re courting me?” you asked once he finally removed his hand.

“what’s wrong with that? i’m courting you, right?” he asked with a grin.

“huh? you’re not!” you said, punctuating your words with playful punches to his arm. yeonjun let out a low grunt but seemed amused by your reaction.

“i am!” he insisted.

“you’ve never even asked me!” you said, continuing your playful assault on his arm. yeonjun stopped and stood still, causing you to cease your punches.

“hmm, so i didn’t made it obvious?” he asked, suddenly holding your face in his hands.

“then let me say it,” he started, and you felt a surge of panic as he held your face. “i will court you,” he finished, pinching your cheek lightly.

“no! i never said yes in the first place,” you protested.

“did i ask? i just informed you that i’m courting you from now on, even though i’ve been courting you since the day you rejected me,” he said, his voice dropping as he mentioned the rejection.

you rolled your eyes, and yeonjun gave a thumbs-up as he smiled widely. you turned around to see your mom giving a thumbs-up too, jumping with excitement as if she had won the lottery.

“mom!” you exclaimed, realizing that this was probably what they were discussing in the kitchen earlier.

“don’t worry, y/n,” your mom called out from the porch, waving enthusiastically. “i’m rooting for you two!”

you groaned, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. yeonjun just laughed, clearly enjoying the chaos he had created.

“welcome to my life,” you muttered, shaking your head.

yeonjun’s grin widened. “oh, i’m just getting started.”

the days following yeonjun’s bold declaration of courtship were nothing short of a whirlwind. it seemed he had taken it upon himself to transform every mundane moment into an adventure. it wasn’t just about grand gestures; it was the little, unexpected things that made you laugh and sometimes question your sanity.

one bright afternoon, yeonjun showed up at your doorstep, not with flowers or a typical date night setup, but with an enormous picnic basket. his outfit was equally extravagant—he wore a sun hat with a wide brim and aviator sunglasses that made him look like he was preparing for a high-fashion photoshoot rather than a simple outing.

“ready for the most extravagant picnic of your life?” he announced with a flourish, spreading out a checkered blanket on the grass with a dramatic sweep that looked like he was setting up a stage for a grand performance.

you couldn’t help but laugh as you glanced from the basket to yeonjun’s over-the-top attire. “yeonjun, you do realize we’re just having a picnic, not hosting a royal banquet, right?”

“every moment with you is royal,” he said, winking with such confidence you almost believed him. “now, let’s see what we have here.” he began to unpack the basket with exaggerated care, revealing a mountain of turon, banana cue, and a sizable container of ginataang bilo-bilo.

“are you trying to win me over with food?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as he proudly displayed his assortment.

“well, it worked on your mom,” he said, taking a bite of a banana cue and looking excessively pleased with himself. “and i’m pretty sure it’ll work on you too.”

the picnic was a scene of endless laughter, food, and minor disasters. yeonjun’s attempts to be suave occasionally faltered, like when he accidentally knocked over the entire drink cooler, drenching both of you in iced tea. the sight of yeonjun covered in sticky tea, flailing his arms while trying to salvage the situation, had you both in stitches.

“i guess this is what they call a splash hit,” you joked, trying to contain your laughter as yeonjun attempted to mop up the mess with a napkin.

“oh, very punny,” yeonjun said, shaking his head with a grin. “i suppose it’s just another chapter in our epic picnic saga.”

as the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the park, yeonjun decided it was time for a “romantic stroll.” in reality, it was more of a clumsy run as he attempted to balance a massive bouquet of flowers—now slightly wilted from the iced tea incident—while dodging every stray dog and jogger that crossed your path.

“is it just me,” yeonjun panted between breaths, “or does the park look extra magical tonight?”

“that’s just the sun setting,” you replied, trying to hold back a grin. “but if you want to call it magic, go ahead.”

“magic it is,” he declared with a dramatic twirl, nearly colliding with a nearby lamp post. “now, let’s talk about our future. i’m thinking we’ll have a castle, a thousand turon makers, and a personal chef who specializes in banana cue.”

“sounds like a dream of you,” you said, laughing. “but let’s start with a dinner that doesn’t involve tripping over every piece of furniture.”

yeonjun’s face lit up with a mix of pride and amusement. “you know, i think we make a pretty good team. i bring the over-the-top gestures, and you keep me grounded. it’s a perfect balance.”

that night, as you both lay on the grass, gazing up at the stars while trying to impress you with his knowledge of constellations—although he kept mixing up orion with the big dipper. yeonjun continued his enthusiastic commentary on how great it was to finally be able to court you. he regaled you with exaggerated stories of his friends’ reactions to his new mission. apparently, his friends were both amazed and amused, with yeonjun’s tales of triumphs and mishaps becoming legendary in their group chats.

“so, i told beomgyu about the picnic,” yeonjun said, propping himself up on one elbow, “and he literally laughed so hard he fell off the bed.”

“sounds like quite the reaction,” you said, trying not to laugh.

“oh, it was,” yeonjun continued, “and then kai started teasing me about how i’m ‘the king of courtship disasters,’ which i thought was pretty unfair. if you ask me.” he looks at you. “i’m pretty sure that’s not how everyone measures their courtship skills,” you teased.

“well, i’m setting a new standard,” yeonjun said confidently. “besides, i’ve been studying the stars. did you know that orion’s belt is actually just three stars in a row?”

“i thought you were going to impress me with constellations,” you said with a smile.

“i’m working on it,” yeonjun said, squinting up at the sky. “but i think the real magic is in how we manage to turn every moment into an adventure.”

you lay there, enjoying the cool night air and the warmth of yeonjun’s presence beside you. his words were as comforting as they were amusing, and you couldn’t deny the charm of his quirky, earnest attempts to make every moment memorable.

“well,” you said, nudging him playfully, “as long as you keep being this ridiculously endearing, i think i’ll manage.”

yeonjun looked at you with a grin that could light up the night. “deal. and who knows? maybe next time, i’ll serenade you under the stars. though, i can’t guarantee i won’t mix up orion with the big dipper again.”

“oh, i’m counting on it,” you said, laughing.

a few weeks into the courtship, yeonjun had a sleepover at soobin’s place with a few of his friends—soobin, beomgyu, taehyun, and hueningkai. they had gathered for a casual hangout, but yeonjun’s excitement about your dates led him to share every detail with his friends. unfortunately, they had already fallen asleep on the living room floor, exhausted from a long day of activities.

yeonjun was sprawled on the couch, practically bursting with energy as he talked animatedly to the empty room. “guys, you won’t believe how amazing the date was last night. we went to this new restaurant, and the food—oh my god, the food was incredible.”

soobin was sprawled on the floor, snoring softly, while beomgyu had drifted off with his head resting on a pile of pillows. taehyun was half-asleep, his head bobbing with each word yeonjun said. hueningkai had passed out with a bag of chips still clutched in his hand.

“so, we tried this new dessert,” yeonjun continued, oblivious to his friends’ slumber. “it was this amazing fusion of all our favorite flavors. and then we had this huge debate about whether pineapple belongs on pizza. i mean, can you believe it?”

yeonjun’s voice was a mixture of excitement and nostalgia as he recounted the smallest details. “and she laughed so hard when i tried to impress her with my ‘impressive’ dance moves. totally epic fail, but she loved it anyway.”

a few muffled groans and sighs from his friends indicated they were barely hanging on, but yeonjun was undeterred. “oh, and we ended the night stargazing one time. i tried so hard to be all poetic, but she kept pointing out how i mixed up orion’s belt with the big dipper. it was so funny.”

taehyun, now fully awake but still half-lying on the floor, mumbled, “yeonjun, we get it. your date was amazing. can we sleep now?”

“wait, there’s more!” yeonjun said, waving his arms excitedly. “we’re planning to make a scrapbook together, and i’m going to put glitter on everything. glitter explosion!”

“yeonjun,” soobin grumbled from the floor, “we’re tired. save the stories for later.”

“fine, fine,” yeonjun said with a dramatic sigh, finally noticing the exhaustion in his friends’ voices. “but you guys are going to love the next date. it’s going to be legendary.”

one evening, yeonjun decided that you both needed a “romantic” movie night. his idea of romance, however, involved setting up an elaborate indoor “cinema” with fairy lights, bean bags, and a selection of snacks that could rival a small buffet. he even made you wear matching pajamas—complete with cartoon characters.

“it’s all about the experience,” yeonjun said, adjusting the lights with an overly serious expression. “you can’t have a romantic movie night without proper ambiance.”

“you know,” you said, looking around at the whimsical setup, “this is actually kind of cute. but don’t think you can get away with making me wear these ridiculous pajamas all the time.”

“hey, don’t knock the pajamas until you’ve experienced the full cozy effect,” yeonjun said, tossing you a bag of popcorn. “plus, it’s for a good cause—our future movie nights together.” smiling sweetly at you.

the movie night itself was a comedy of errors. yeonjun spent more time trying to fix the projector than actually watching the movie, and you both ended up in fits of laughter over his failed attempts to mimic romantic movie lines. at one point, yeonjun dramatically declared, “you had me at hello,” before tripping over the bean bag and crashing into a pile of pillows.

“romance is clearly not your strong suit,” you teased, helping him up.

“hey, I’m working on it,” yeonjun said, brushing himself off with a grin. “next time, i promise a movie night with less physical comedy and more actual romance.”

the following weekend, yeonjun took you to a local farmer’s market. it was a simple date, but one that turned into a playful adventure as you navigated the stalls, sampling everything from artisanal cheeses to homemade jams. yeonjun insisted on buying you a “mystery fruit” he claimed was the “best thing ever.”

“i’m telling you, it’s going to be life-changing,” yeonjun said, holding up a spiky, oddly shaped fruit with a look of triumph.

“it looks like something from an alien planet,” you said, eyeing it warily. “but if you say so.”

the mystery fruit turned out to be surprisingly delicious, and the experience left you both in high spirits. you ended up buying a basket of fresh produce, and yeonjun’s enthusiasm for the “find” made the outing memorable.

“we should definitely do this again,” yeonjun said as you walked back to the car, his cheeks flushed from the sun and excitement.

“i’ll hold you to that,” you said, smiling.

as the weeks went by, yeonjun’s courtship efforts continued to be a mix of grand and simple gestures. he surprised you with handwritten letters, silly serenades, and spontaneous dance parties in the living room. his attempts at poetry were endearing, if not always successful, but you appreciated the effort behind each one.

the culmination of yeonjun’s courtship efforts came on a quiet evening when you both decided to work on a scrapbook together. yeonjun had been relentless about starting the project, claiming it was the perfect way to document your journey together. you reluctantly agreed, and soon found yourself surrounded by colorful papers, stickers, and glitter.

yeonjun was deeply focused on arranging photos and decorations, his brows furrowed in concentration as he pouted his lips in a way that made him look more like a kid than a confident courtier.

“hey,” you said, unable to resist the adorable sight, “you look really cute right now.”

yeonjun glanced up, caught off guard by your compliment. “cute? i’m working hard here, you know.”

“i know,” you said, leaning closer and feeling a sudden impulse. you reached out and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, your lips brushing against his skin.

“hey! you can’t kiss me, i’m not your boyfriend,” yeonjun said, his voice a mix of surprise and mock indignation as he covered his face with his hands.

“then be,” you said, smiling as you wiped a stray piece of glitter from his cheek.

“then be? then be?! what the hell?!” yeonjun shouted, his face turning a shade redder.

“can you please act normal for once?” you asked, trying to hide your amusement.

“are you?” yeonjun said, peeking out from behind his hands with a faux serious expression. “because right now, you’re acting like you just walked out of a rom-com.”

“i figure we are going there soon, so might as well make it official now,” you said, biting your lower lip as you hide your smile.

“so... you? and me?” yeonjun said, exaggeratingly pointing to you and him while making a heart shape with his hands.

“you know,” you said, tapping the scrapbook page with your finger for emphasis. “ask me to be your girlfriend. stop dancing around it and just say it.”

yeonjun’s face turned a deep shade of red, and he looked away, pretending to be very interested in a piece of glitter stuck to his hand. “are you sure you want that?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled as he avoided eye contact.

“yeonjun,” you said, reaching out to gently turn his face towards you. “it’s ridiculous to keep pretending like you don’t want to be with me. you’ve already shown me how much you care.”

“well,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “if you’re really sure about this, then...”

“yes,” you said, smiling warmly. “i’m sure.”

yeonjun’s expression shifted from nervousness to a wide, goofy grin. “okay then,” he said, leaning in with exaggerated seriousness. “will you be my girlfriend?”

you laughed, shaking your head at his over-the-top delivery. “yes, yeonjun,” you said, reaching out to tap him on the nose. “i will.”

“thank goodness,” he said with a sigh of relief, playfully collapsing onto the table as if he’d just won a great battle. “i was starting to think I’d have to spend the rest of my life trying to win you over. anyway, can you say it again?” he added putting his hand into a heart.

“you are so corny, i hate you,” you said, rolling your eyes. you leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before adding, “you heard me.”

yeonjun’s eyes widened, and he lowered his head, covering his mouth as if he’d just had his first kiss stolen. “i hate you so much!” he said, his irritation tinged with a hint of affection as he tried to maintain his pout.

as you both sat there, surrounded by scraps of paper and glitter, you realized that yeonjun’s courtship had turned into something truly special. it wasn’t about grand gestures or elaborate plans; it was the simple, everyday moments that made it all the more memorable. "yeonjun," you called softly, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

"hmm?" he replied, not taking his gaze off the scrapbook page he was working on. his concentration was almost endearing, his brow furrowed as he meticulously placed another sticker.

"thank you," you said, your voice sincere and filled with warmth.

yeonjun finally looked up, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of surprise and curiosity. “for what?” he asked, setting down the glue stick and wiping his hands on a napkin.

“for everything,” you said, gesturing to the scattered scraps of paper and glitter that surrounded you both. “for all the effort you put into making this special, for being so... you.”

his cheeks flushed slightly, and he gave you a shy, almost sheepish smile. “well, i guess i can’t take all the credit,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “you make it easy to want to do these things.”

“that’s really sweet,” you said, leaning over to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “i’m glad you’re the one doing this with me.”

yeonjun’s eyes widened, and he looked away, pretending to be intensely interested in a stray piece of glitter on the table. “uh, it’s nothing,” he muttered, trying to hide his blush. “just... don’t expect me to start being all mushy every time.”

“don’t worry,” you said, chuckling softly. “i’ll make sure to keep you on your toes.” you said as you watch him trying his best to focus on what he’s working on as he fights the urge to scream at how happy he is at this moment.

yeonjun leaned back in his chair, a nostalgic grin spreading across his face as he reminisced with his friends. they were gathered in the homecoming hall, a place filled with echoes of their past, and the atmosphere was brimming with laughter and memories.

“honestly,” yeonjun began, looking at the five guys sitting around him, “it’s kind of hilarious to think back on that time i was crying over her rejection, when in the end i ended up having her.”

the others chuckled, their laughter mingling with the soft clinking of glasses and the hum of the crowd. “yeah, i remember,” beomgyu said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “you were a mess and all, with you endless love theories.”

taehyun raised an eyebrow, “and now you’re here, about to get married. who knew?”

yeonjun shook his head, still grinning. “i know, right? all those dramatic moments and tears, and here we are. i didn’t just win her over to be my girlfriend. no, we’re engaged now.”

he looked up as you walked into the room, calling out to him with a bright smile. “hon!”

the room fell silent, and yeonjun’s gaze softened as he saw you approach. you greeted him with a soft kiss on the cheek, and he could feel the warmth of your love. “hey,” he said, his voice full of affection. “have you talk to them already?” yeonjun asks before planting soft kiss on your cheeks.

“guys, gross. please stop,” beomgyu said, rolling his eyes.

“as if you weren’t the literally on everyone’s lips during college, dude,” taehyun remarked, a playful grin on his face.

beomgyu laughed, shaking his head. “can you please stop reminding me of my youth?”

“they’re still the same,” you whispered to yeonjun, a teasing smile on your lips. “so are we.”

yeonjun leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your bare shoulder. “i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“get a room,” hueningkai interjected with a grin, shaking his head at the display of affection.

you laughed, your heart full of joy as you turned to soobin. “where is she?” you asked, your curiosity evident.

soobin’s smile grew, his eyes reflecting a fondness that spoke of countless shared memories. “she’s just finishing up in the restroom. she’ll be here soon.” his gaze softened as he remembered how this had always been your way of asking about his girlfriend during college. the smile on his face hinted at the significant moments they’d shared—the moments that had changed everything for him.

“soobinie~” a sweet voice called out. soobin turned, his face lighting up as he met the gaze that had once captured his heart during those college days.

gyo's note: finally! a full of fluff yeonjun one !! phew ˖⁺‧₊˚ ૮꒰ˊᗜˋ* ꒱ა i figured yeonjun def suits this kind of trope, i just see him as a dude who would be literally head over heels when he likes someone !! and i vv much loved writing this because it makes me feel like rewatching my favorite filipino romcoms from when i was a kid !! (づᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡ anyway, feel free to talk to me and request! i will have my first request posted on thursday, yayyyy ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*｡

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starxanemone · 4 months

Text

꩜ⴰ ࣪˖ YOUR FLOOR'S BETTER THAN MY BED

reo mikage x gender neutral!reader — oneshot.

humor. implied romance. slight tension (if you squint). more of a character exploration.

you and reo mikage were two sides of the same coin—two people living entirely different lives within the same planes of this globe.

— aka, you're a broke mf, surviving on a scholarship, and you find it fun bothering the rich kid in school.

note. wrote this bc i'm actually so broke right now lmfao. i ain't eating breaky and lunch tomorrow hahaha life is so great as a broke college student! 10/10 would not recommend : )

When you hear the name “Mikage” the only thing that comes to mind is money. Call it a stereotypical mindset, but it doesn’t matter because everyone thinks of the same thing as you anyway. You don’t even bother to alter the way you perceive the name either.

Fuck being unique and all that, but really, who can blame you when you’re lacking in that department. The thing that makes the world go round and makes the eyes of people go green whether with envy or whether they’re on the greener side of the grass. Doesn’t matter. It’s the thing that keeps your life at the edge of being “fine” and falling off a steep, brittle cliff to poverty.

Money.

You wonder what it’s like to have an excess amount of it.

“Yo, Mikage,” You wink, sending him finger guns as you pass by his usual seat in the near-empty library.

The infamous Mikage Reo that always had an accommodating smile on his face catches a glimpse of you, and instantly, his lilac irises dulls.

“Oh. Hey.”

“Why so glum?” You cock your head to the side, taking the seat right beside him, legs spread wide and elbow leaning against the backrest of the seat.

You lack the air of dignity that most students inhale in this place like crack. It fogs their senses all the same anyway, and clouding their ability to judge. They get caught up in the image too much that they forget that pictures aren’t alive nor do they breathe. And maybe that’s why they don’t like you. “They” including Mikage.

“You’re probably here to shamelessly ask for money again. And I’m already saying this: no.” He grumbles, pressing his cheek against his palm, gazing into your eyes flatly.

Welp. It’s not like you put in the effort to be likable anyway. Understandable.

“Aw,” You pretend to pout in disappointment. “Worth a shot.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Hah?” You raise your brow at his question.

“Have you gone deaf? I said, ‘don’t you have anything better to do?’” He repeats, narrowing his eyes at you.

Truthfully, you heard him the first time. It was just funny to see him annoyed. No picture-perfect genius Reo Mikage. No giant nepo-baby Mikage. He’s just an annoyed Reo.

“I always got better things to do.” You shrug before eyeing him with a raised brow, grinning lazily. “Unlike you.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?!” He stands up from his chair.

Surprisingly, he has a very short fuse for someone who can handle everyone's bullshit.

��Hey, hey, kid,” You raise your hand up in surrender, speaking to him as if he wasn’t the same age or probably even a year older than you. “Relax, I was joking. Sit down.”

With a sigh, he takes a seat again, although the glare was still intact on his face. He grumbles quietly, but it was surely meant to be heard by you with the way he eyes you as he does so. “Don’t ‘kid’ me. At least I don’t waste my time asking people for money.”

“I’m always kidding, Mikage.” You snort at his words, waving your hand dismissively. “Even if you gave me money, I still wouldn’t accept it. What makes you think I’d take stuff from your hands?”

You wrinkle your nose, pretending to eye his hands with distaste. From the corner of your eyes you see him look offended once again and you hold back the urge to cackle.

Being born loved and admired by the people around him—repeatedly hearing songs of praises like he’s some sort of messiah—made him clueless towards teasing and jabs.

“I’m very clean, thank you very much! I’ll have you know that I wash my hands with only the best antibacterial hand wash imported from Italy. What about you?!” He blurts out angrily, bumping the side of his fist against his table.

“Exactly.” You shrug.

You see the anger melt away from his features before it is replaced with confusion.

“You and I,” You lean closer to him and you know he can smell the cheap fruity cologne wafting off the fabric of your imitation uniform. Hakuho was expensive even for scholarship students. “We’re from different worlds, Mikage. And it’s not your fault nor is it mine, because that’s just how it is.”

He turns quiet at this, seemingly mulling your words over inside his head as he eyes the floor blankly.

You tilt your head, releasing a short and awkward laugh. Think you might have made the air too serious. It must be your lunch, or, well, lack thereof. You don’t usually bring the topic (of your lack of money) up with other people, but his question provided you with the opportunity to do so. You took it all too eagerly (carelessly) and it in turn killed the typical playful nature of your not-so-friendship.

“Uh, sorry ‘bout that. For killin’ the mood.” You laugh awkwardly, patting his shoulder. “Uh…”

“What’s it like?” He turns to you suddenly, tilting his head.

“Uh, what’s what like?” You furrow your brows.

“Having no money.”

“Woah, woah, ya didn’t have to phrase it like that!” You joke, crossing your arms and leaning back against your chair with huff.

“N-No, I didn’t mean it like—” He began, glaring at nothing in defense before you cut him off.

“Kidding.” You wave your hand. “You gotta learn how to remove that stick up your ass. I promise you, it feels great.”

He wrinkles his nose in disgust at your choice of words. He’s probably thinking that you lack tact or class.

“You lack class.” He states in distaste.

Knew it.

“Yeah, anyways.” You think over his question for a bit. “Well, I can’t really explain it.”

His lilac eyes dulls as he stares at you flatly once again. “Hah. What a waste of time asking, then.”

“I got an idea though.” You lean closer, grinning lazily as you prop your elbow on top of his side of the table and pressing your cheek against your palm. His face engulfs your perceptions and you can see the non-existent pores on his skin.

Fuck him, his money, and his skin care routine.

“What.” He leans back slightly, raising his brow.

“Come with me later after class. Let’s eat dinner.”

A puff of air escapes his lips as he laughs at your suggestion. A few seconds later, it transforms into full-blown laughing. Each laugh that escapes his lips comes from deep within his diaphragm.

You stare at him expectantly and a little creeped out. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him laugh like that with anyone in your entire life in Hakuho.

“What?” You ask, still spooked.

“Didn’t know you liked me like that,” He smirks, leaning his face closer, breath brushing against your cheek. “If you wanted to ask me to dinner, you could’ve just said so.”

You could smell the slight mint and it tells you that he had just brushed. Figures. Of course he’d bring a toothbrush to school. Of course he actually brushes his teeth during breaks and not spend it fucking around doing nothing unlike you.

“Stop being delusional.” Your face turns blank at his words and you sit properly again. “Anyways, you said you wanted to know what it’s like, right? Come with me later then. We’ll eat what I usually eat for dinner.”

His face turns intrigued. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll know.”

“What is this place?” You hear Reo raise his voice over the surging crowd of people. He had a black mask over his face to hide it from the people because, yeah, he was actually kind of like a celebrity. An A-list individual among A-lists, coming just below his parents and it clearly shows with the Gucci bag he’s sporting.

Now that you think about it…

You eye his bag. “Flip your bag over, Mikage.”

“Huh? Why?”

You point to the pockets of his bag exposed out. “You’ll get unknowingly robbed that way. Flip your bag— okay, yep, nice. Very good.”

He rolls his eyes at your childish praise as he removes his bag to flip it, the pockets now hidden from the public’s view.

“Oh, yeah, we’re eating street food.” You point to the row of street vendors covering the sidewalks. Each stand glows yellow from the string of lights attached onto their walls and the strong smell of varieties of food mixes together in an almost unbearable manner.

You eye the rich kid beside you. He seems to shift a little, standing awkwardly and a little out of place.

You reach out to hold onto the side of his arm. “You good?”

He glances at you and looks back at the stalls as well as the crowd of people he mostly towered over. He doesn't shove away your hand. “Yeah. It’s just my first time in this sort of place.”

You blink at this, intrigued. “What? Really? Well, we gotta eat a lot, then. Your treat.”

He doesn’t protest when you begin tugging him towards the nearest Takoyaki stall.

“Ten pieces, please.” You tell the street vendor, beginning to pull out your wallet. A larger hand stops you from doing so and you glance at Reo to see him already pulling out his wallet.

“How much?” Reo asks.

The vendor eyes your classmate for a few seconds and then the Gucci bag. You hold back a groan. Ugh, you already know where this is going.

“1000 yen.” The vendor answers him, his face seemingly unsure.

Just before Reo could unknowingly pay the tricky vendor, you hold onto his hand, preventing him from taking out his cash.

“What are you—”

“That’s overpriced.” You cut in, eyeing the vendor flatly, feeling disappointed at his shitty attempt to scam people. “I ate here yesterday and it was only 500 yen for ten pieces. You mean to say that you’re charging double now? Do inflation rates shoot up that high in a span of one day?”

At least the vendor looks ashamed. He brings a hand up to the back of his neck awkwardly before bowing. “Sorry. Money’s tight and I thought it was worth a shot.”

You chuckle at this, handing the vendor the sufficient amount. “Been there, done that. To him too. But don’t go scamming other people, ‘kay? Now gimme our order.”

Once you take the order, you tug Reo away from the stall to head over to somewhere with less people. You lean back against the wall and open the container filled with Takoyaki and raise it up to his face.

“Smells good, right?” You watch as he takes the container from your hands and inspects the food curiously. He brings it up close to his face, gazing at the array of colors from the bonito flakes, to the mayo, to the sauce, and to the golden brown Takoyaki.

“It doesn’t look that different from the gourmet Takoyaki I’ve eaten.” He comments, taking a pair of chopsticks before eating an entire ball. As he chews, you see his eyes widen and he immediately begins to devour another Takoyaki just as he had swallowed the previous one.

“Good, right?” You grin cheekily.

He ignores you in exchange for devouring another large piece.

“Hey, leave me some too!”

You took him to different stalls after that, and by the time 8PM rolled around, both of you were already stuffed full with different kinds of food. You can’t remember the last time you had ever eaten to the point where you felt like your pants were going to burst open at the seams.

You eye the empty paper plates and containers laying haphazardly on the plastic table you both found. There were a little less people now. You draw in a breath, the air now lacking the sharp scent it previously held as you had submerged yourself in its presence.

It was nice. You also can’t remember the last time you’ve eaten a meal with someone like this. Having deadbeat parents that spent more time smoking crack out where you don’t know ultimately meant that meals were eaten alone. And, you admit, sharing meals wasn’t bad at all.

Reo heaves out a deep sigh, rubbing his stomach after releasing a quiet (and somehow dignified) burp. “I ate too much. Too much unhealthy food. My diet is ruined.”

You snort at this. “Relax, princess. I promise you’re still pretty.”

He glares at you. “Not what I meant.”

“Uhuh, whatever you say.” You chuckle before trailing off, watching him for a few seconds. You can see him shifting in place again at the length of your stare, seemingly burning holes into the side of your face.

“If you have something to say just say it.” He grumbles out, crossing his arms with a raise of his brow.

“Well, did it answer your question?” You ask curiously.

He looks up at the dark sky for a second before glancing back at you. “Well, the food was good. And cheaper.”

You shake your head at his obliviousness and chuckle. “Uhuh, but the food we ate today? That’s typically how much I eat in a span of one week. You get it now?”

He blinks and goes silent for a few seconds again.

“Don’t you get hungry, though?” He asks after a short while.

You shrug. “You get used to it.”

“It’s not sustainable though. How are you still alive?” He cockshis head, now looking at you with a slight furrow on his brows. If he was worried, then you were flattered.

“Not sure.” You shake your head. “I still do try to get my vegetables in but fresh produce is expensive. Healthy food is expensive. Some people just don’t have a choice, you know?”

“Oh.”

You don’t think it has sunken inside his brain yet. You can’t and won’t blame him. He’s lived his life that he’s used to just like you're living yours. You were two sides of a single coin—two people living entirely different lives within the same planes of this globe. Both built differently and built to handle different things.

“But I’m also curious now, too.” You hum after a while, eyeing him in slight interest.

“About what?”

“What does it feel like to live yours?” You cock your head.

You see him grin and your eyes squints a little at this.

"Maybe we can go to my place next."

#blue lock x y/n #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock #reo mikage #mikage reo #reo x reader #reo x you #reo x y/n #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage x you #oneshot #blue lock oneshots #romance #blue lock reo #gender neutral reader

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ariseur · 6 months

Note

Can I request dmc guys jealousy headcanons, if thats something youd be interested in writing? 👀

dmc guys jealousy hc’s 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

eidjdfjjeieddejeje why do headcanons take me sm longer to do

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

intended lowercase, kinda spoilers for dmc5 in nero’s hcs (?), mentions of possessiveness and obv jealousy, lmk if i missed anything!! 💕

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓓ANTE — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ for DANTE, i feel like he trusts you deeply and wouldn’t get jealous as easily as maybe, say— vergil?

❥ he’s pretty confident in your relationship but on the off chance he does get jealous, he’ll let it play out for awhile as he watches from afar.

❥ he’ll play it off as a joke, but if the person starts getting a little too touchy, he’ll ‘casually’ slide in with an arm around your waist and a kiss on your jaw, looking into the person’s eyes while you giggle at the sudden affection.

❥ dante would lowkey try to one-up them on the down low. oh, they buy you a drink? dante’s buying you ten. they compliment your hair? dante’s in your ear telling you how gorgeous you look today.

❥ and it’s not like he feels like he needs to give you false compliments just to one-up the other person, he just finds it amusing the way their jaw clenches when they see dante muttering in your ear while his eyes lock on them, a shit eating grin glued to his face because he knows what he’s doing.

❥ if you leave for whatever reason, dante might ‘accidentally’ make the person uncomfortable if they don’t get the hint already just by his tone. he’ll make passive aggressive comments if they’ve been getting too touchy, maybe nudge them a little too hard in the ribs or grip their shoulder a bit too tight at a ‘really funny joke’.

❥ dante does trust you though, it’s only when the person starts to get physical is when it becomes more of a problem. his energy speaks volumes, so you can tell if he has underlying intentions just from his smile.

❥ he’ll try to act friendly, albeit still a little petty, even if you know them personally. an arm slung across your shoulder or your waist along with scattered kisses across your face and shoulder is his main go-to. dante’s main goal is either for them to get the hint or for your mind to be occupied on him only.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓥ERGIL — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ now VERGIL.. vergil is much more intimidating with his reactions. once he spots someone chatting it up with you and getting a little too close, he’s there in an instant.

❥ the only difference between him and dante’s reaction is that fact that vergil silently brews, eyes burning holes through the person as he watches quietly. he’ll take a seat next to you as his eyes never leave them, even once you greet him when he sits with you— just his piercing gaze staring them down.

❥ he swears that he doesn’t get jealous, that’s he’s better than whatever assumption you’re implying, oh my my! how dare you assume such things about this son of sparda?

❥ but alas, vergil gets hella jealous.

❥ it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he’s just very possessive over you. and it’s not like he’ll keep you locked away for him and him only, either. it’s simply a matter that involves his own ego and i don’t know if it’s some demon thing, but he just craves your scent. that, or his scent on you. just something that tells people that you’re his and he’s yours.

❥ if the person doesn’t take the hint after the abundance in glares that vergil throws at them, he’ll start making remarks. nothing too serious, just initiating some sort of confrontation if he sees that you’re uncomfortable. if you don’t seem annoyed or bothered by it, vergil will second-guess it and leave you to your own devices, trusting that you’ll handle it at some point.

❥ i doubt anybody would try vergil, so i wouldn’t even consider that a possibility. he’s a devil hunter that’s over six feet tall with a fit body and yamato sheathed in his back pocket, nobody in their right mind would fuck with him.

❥ vergil obviously knows to be logical, though. he doesn’t let his emotions get the better of him during this time and hopes that you’ll know how to handle it yourself. although, he definitely wouldn’t mind scaring the person off a little more.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓝ERO — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ i honestly doubt that this man can keep his mouth shut. NERO just struggles with not making a stupid smartass remark every second.

❥ nero definitely has some insecurities that he buries, often only coming out in shorts bursts of when he can’t take it anymore. these jabs and quips that he makes are his form of concealing the fact that he’s insecure about himself and his abilities, especially if this is during or post-to-finding-out-who-his-father-is.

❥ i wouldn’t say he’s aggressive, but his mouth would def get him into big trouble. if he saw that you looked uncomfortable with the person or they started getting too touchy with you, he literally teleports next to you and greets you with a chaste cheek kiss. if you seemed okay with it, though, he’d try his best to brush it off but still glance at you every once in awhile (and by that i mean literally every minute) just to check on you.

❥ if he does decide to sit with you and just listen in on the conversation, he’ll basically just be hovering over you awkwardly. there are two ways this’ll go, either nero’s going to act all nonchalant like he doesn’t care even though he has a keen eye on whoever’s flirting with you (like father like son)— or he’s going to be really clingy with you.

❥ not really physically clingy, but more so clingy in the way where he’ll follow you around like a dog with heart eyes the whole time. even after you’ve stopped talking to the person.

❥ (he’s just like that, guys.)

❥ i think he gets a tiny bit butthurt afterwards though. i mean, he’s been called dead weight and basically has been looked down upon by both his father and his uncle, essentially being seen almost as a pest during the duration of dmc5.

❥ help this boy please, he def needs it

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓥 — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ im sorry but i cannot see V as a jealous person

❥ i think v is a very calm natured guy, and i think he has a lot of faith in you. he trusts that you’ll be able to make the right choice in the end, and he knows that you wouldn’t just up and cheat on him or leave him out of the blue. he knows you know better and so he leaves you be.

❥ though.. it doesn’t hurt to watch from afar, does it?

❥ v is also an observer, he watches the interactions between you two as he studies both of your body languages. it’s not like he thinks you’ll do anything, it’s just his nature.

❥ griffon would definitely tease him about looking at you so much, squawking out nonsense as he calls v whipped for you.

❥ if he sees that you’re uncomfortable or you want to get out of the conversation— it can go a few different ways.

❥ one of the scenarios, for instance, would consist of him closing his book as he gets up and he walks over to the two of you. he’d greet you sweetly, side-eyeing the person in front of you as he kisses your hand. maybe he’d take a seat next to you just to let the person know that he’s watching. and if that didn’t work, griffon would certainly scare them off just by his yapping.

“shit, a bow tie? really? was your torso too wide for a tie or what?”

❥ overall, v isn’t a jealous person in general. however, he does love you enough to help you when you’re in need of a knight in shining armor. even if that knight is a gothic poet with an annoying bird and a panther at his side.

388 notes · View notes

dutifullylazybread · 4 months

Note

THIS IS MY OFFICIAL REQUEST FOR CAL REALIZING HE'S GOT A CRUSH ON YOU AND CONFESSING HIS FEELINGS HEADCANNONS. LIKE ALL PRE-RELATIONSHIP ACTIVITY. I need to feed the brain-rot

I'M WEAK AND I'M POSTING A DAY EARLY

I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS

(I did take some liberties with this list—this list assumes that Cal, Lia, and Rolan stay with the tiefling refugees and all necessary steps are taken to get the three of them safely from the Druid’s Grove to Baldur’s Gate).

I ended up breaking this into two parts—one that talks about how Cal's feelings develop leading into the relationship/confession, and the other part which is a bit more scenario-driven (and it ended up being pre-relationship stuff that led into the start of the relationship itself).

General Headcanons

Cal begins to think that he might like you as more than a friend around the time that he realizes that he always hopes to run into you while out and about. Not in a “Oh, we’re both in the same place at the same time” sort of way but more in a “I hope Tav is there. That'd be nice. Maybe I should invite them?”

He has absolutely hoped to stumble into friends before, but he wasn't too bothered if it didn't happen.

You, however? If you aren't at a gathering, he feels poorer for it.

And when you two spend time together (be this in a group setting or on your own), he’s always stealing glances your way… and he realizes he doesn’t really do that with anyone else.

When someone tells a joke that he finds funny, he looks at you to see if you’re laughing as well. Every time.

He takes every opportunity to be near you.

Even if you’re just running errands or doing something boring, he is over the moon to be invited along—even if you assure him that he doesn’t have to. His company is always welcome, but you wouldn’t be upset if he chose to go do something more enjoyable.

“It’s no bother. The work is easier when there are two people to do it.”

If he goes shopping and sees something that reminds him of you, he will get it for you.

If you offhandedly mention that you like a certain type of food, don’t be surprised if he makes it for you.

And if you ask him what the occasion was, he’ll shrug and say, “No reason,” or possibly, “It sounded like you haven’t had it in a while.”

Cal strikes me as a very physically affectionate person; so long as you’re okay with hugs, he will embrace you when the two of you meet up and when the two of you part.

Though he does enjoy spontaneous hugs too.

And he does like holding your hand. A lot.

He is the type of person who will check in to see if you need a drink refill or more food. It’s one way that he likes to take care of you, but he initially doesn’t think much of it, because he would do that for his siblings too.

And while Cal is fairly good at coming to his own conclusions about how he feels, Lia and Rolan most certainly tease him about how he acts around you.

Initially though, he thinks he is just being a good friend.

Until he hugs you one day, and the hug lasts a moment longer than normal. And he notices how you feel pressed against him.

He realizes that it feels really, really natural to hold you close.

And you smell really, really nice.

He realizes that you have always smelled that way. He has definitely picked up on it before, but for whatever reason, this time it really sticks.

This isn't a scent kink so much as it's a “I am taking comfort in something that is so utterly familiar and perfectly you” moment.

And then he starts to notice other things.

He likes the sound of your laugh. A lot.

He particularly likes when he can get you to laugh, because you will look at him, eyes bright and face flushed.

And then there is a moment where your eyes meet, and you hold his gaze, and everything clicks into place.

And if he hadn't already figured out that he has a crush on you, he absolutely does then.

Rolan and Lia point out that it seems like he is daydreaming A LOT lately. And while he might be dismissive of this at first, it doesn’t take long for him to put two and two together—he’s thinking of you a lot.

And he is also talking about you much more often. Sometimes he repeats the same stories about you because, honestly, everything reminds him of you.

Rolan and Lia will tell him that he is repeating himself, but he just looks so happy whenever he talks about you.

So they'll usually wait for a pause in his story to lovingly tease him.

While Cal has always enjoyed hugging you before, he is melting into your embrace now. He is constantly looking for excuses to be close to you, to brush his arm against yours.

If he gets too flustered, his laugh raises in pitch and he'll slosh the drink he's holding all over himself.

To make matters worse, you think he's cute when he gets so worked up, and that's enough to make him light headed.

He doesn't strike me as someone who worries over saying the right thing. He isn't agonizing over every sentence, but he makes an effort to be kind. And if he is kind and transparent with people, then everything will be fine and any misunderstandings can, hopefully, be smoothed over.

But around the point that he starts to notice all these things that he likes about you, he starts to really worry about what he says and what you might infer.

Part of me thinks that, if Cal gets really deep into his stress over his crush for you, he becomes a nervous, giggling mess of a person.

This is to the point where he cannot have a discussion with you, because he is so nervous about what he will say.

“This person is incredible. I adore them so much. Oh, Hells, they're looking at me. Oh, Hells, they're gorgeous. OH, HELLS, THEY'RE COMING OVER TO SAY HELLO.”

Cal is clumsy, but when he is flustered, he practically trips over himself.

Will drop anything and everything when you are in close proximity.

Spills drinks and food everywhere because he gets caught up watching you laugh at a joke.

Will have bruises on his thighs, knees, and calves from how often he runs into furniture around you/when he is thinking of you.

If Cal gets to this point, Rolan and Lia might intervene. They won't speak for their brother, but they will encourage/beg/urge him to talk to you.

Their persistence will depend on how much Cal is agonizing over things. If he's just quietly pining but is content to spend time with you and it doesn't appear that he is struggling, they'll tease him.

If it's to the point where he is overanalyzing everything he says, they're going to be a lot firmer on him communicating his feelings to you.

“I think I made Tav uncomfortable.”

“Cal, you completely froze up and wouldn't make eye contact with them. They probably think that they're making you uncomfortable. For all of our sakes, just talk to them.”

So, Cal gathers his courage and asks you to go on an outing with him—something the two of you would do regardless of if you were a couple.

He will be nervous. He will be dropping things and bumping into the edges of furniture.

But here's the kicker: if you are nervous, blushing, and generally flustered about being around him, then his nerves will settle a little. Because he has had to be the calm, steady one for his siblings. It's in his nature to be there for others when they are struggling.

So you're both nervous. And you're both stumbling over yourselves.

It becomes a question of which one of you manages to confess first, but for the sake of this list, we'll say Cal manages as you were working up the courage.

And when you reciprocate his feelings and tell him how much you adore him, he looks fit to pass out from how relieved he is.

Your first kiss is clumsy—he bumps your forehead with his and his teeth click against yours.

But it's honestly perfect.

If you are the calmer of the two, Cal will definitely take comfort in that as well.

“This is Tav. I trust them. They are an incredible person. They have never made me feel like I can't confide in them.”

So he works up the courage and confesses. He wants more than friendship with you. He likes you a lot. He might even be in love with you. He wants to find out.

And he hugs you so, so tightly when you confess that you feel the same.

We're talking a hug so tight and so close that, regardless of how tall you are, your feet are dangling off of the ground as he holds you to him.

Your first kiss is clumsy regardless. But it's perfect, because all your nerves and anxieties melt away in that moment.

And it’s just the two of you. And a world of possibilities has opened up before you.

Scenario-driven Headcanons: Following Game Events - Basically if Cal was a Romanceable NPC - From Crush to The Beginnings of A Relationship

So, personally, I think that Cal likely wouldn’t be considering a relationship while he and his family are fleeing from Elturel to Baldur’s Gate. It’s not that he is opposed to one—he’s just in survival mode. Not only that, but he is also pulling double shifts as Rolan’s and Lia’s mediator. The more time the three of them are on the road, the more his siblings are prone to argue. That just comes with the stress of being exiled from your home and dealing with food shortages and exhaustion. Both siblings have strong personalities and opinions on what matters (Rolan wants to ensure the safety of the three of them; Lia wants to ensure the safety of everyone), so if both have the energy, they’re going to argue.

In the druid’s grove, the stress is at an all time high. Any day now, they could be turned out by the druids—who would effectively seal the grove off with the Rite of Thorns. And from there, who is to say that the goblins won’t attack? They might be small, but they have the numbers, the weapons, and control of the road.

And if the goblins won’t get them, what else will they have to contend with?

First impressions are fleeting when you walk into the grove—Cal can’t get a good gauge on your character then.

Though he wasn’t terribly keen on Rolan and Lia arguing in front of everyone, he did appreciate that you diffused the situation… for the moment.

And at the party? The first time he and his siblings allow themselves to relax, to forget the road ahead for the night, he starts to notice little things about you.

But just because he isn’t considering a relationship doesn’t mean he isn’t developing feelings—he just might not be paying them as much heed as he may if the situation were different.

Things that he might not usually observe with people—the way the corners of your eyes lift up when you smile, for example.

He most certainly likes hearing you laugh. He would like to hear you laugh more.

And when Rolan casts prestidigitation and lights the night sky, Cal finds his attention pulled away from the magic show to you. Your eyes are bright and you are set aglow.

And he finds you enchanting.

When you first walked into the grove, you carried yourself like any scrappy adventurer might.

But at the party? Out of your fighting gear and not toting around a weapon? You’re… softer. Perhaps not quite as guarded as you would be on the road, waiting for some enemy to barrel out of the brush and attack you.

And he likes that.

And he starts to gravitate to you.

Though he doesn't think much of it, he will check in and see if you need your wine topped off or if you need something to eat. He figures he's looking out for you, perhaps thanking you for helping him and his family.

And you rather like how pleasant Cal is. He’s a breath of fresh air. Beyond getting to chat with you, getting to know you a bit better, he doesn’t seem to have any ulterior motives.

And you like talking to him. He seems to feel the same.

Rolan and Lia most definitely notice. And they will tease him relentlessly.

“You’re practically hanging off of every word they say, aren’t you? I don’t think you left their side for more than a few minutes tonight.”

And it's true. They're just stating the obvious. But they're teasing him. They seem to think he feels more than just friendly towards you.

He's torn between dismissing them out of pocket and considering what they have to say. Rolan and Lia may tease him, but they also have his best interests in mind.

Because he really, really, likes when you look at him.

And when the two of you part ways for the evening, he does watch you walk away to join your companions.

He definitely lays awake that night replaying your interactions. He gets giddy over the ones that went well, and he cringes and curls in on himself over the moments where he was less than debonair.

While the tiefling refugees travel through the mountain pass, he daydreams about what it would be like if your traveling party and his didn't separate. What if you stayed with them?

How many more interactions could the two of you have had?

He sees mountain flowers or a blue jay's feather, and he thinks about how, if you were traveling with them, he'd give those to you. He hopes that you would light up, but he would still get an idea of what you liked from your responses.

And then he thinks about how, at the end of the celebration, he said “until Baldur's Gate.” And he starts to think about how much he'd love to explore the city with you.

If you're from Baldur's Gate originally, maybe the two of you got to talking about some of your favorite places. You might have offered to show him around.

And you did suggest getting a pint or two at the Elfsong together. It's a nice enough place.

He makes a note to take you up on that offer.

The mountain pass is a long trek, but he doesn't really notice. His head is in the clouds.

Lia and Rolan tease him over how besotted he is, but it is nice to see him thinking about something other than survival.

And then they cross into the Shadow-Cursed Lands, and the cultists attack. Cal and Lia are separated from Rolan and taken to Moonrise.

Cal is mad at himself for indulging in those daydreams. Maybe he would have noticed the cultists sooner, had his mind been more present.

Every time he thinks about you in that dungeon, he does so with a twinge of shame.

He doesn't go so far as to fantasize that you'll save him. The situation feels too hopeless. He and Lia mostly talk about Rolan and how they hope he didn't get hurt during the cultists’ ambush.

So when you walk down into the dungeon, traveling companions in tow, he's not sure if he believes his eyes.

Everything that happens next is a blur of activity. One moment, the cell Cal is in has a back wall. The next? It's gone and the path to freedom stretches out before him.

Between escaping the prison and getting onto the boat, he doesn't have the time to think.

When the Last Light Inn is in view, when you tell him Rolan is waiting for him and Lia, that is when everything snaps back into focus.

And when the Harpers check him for a tadpole and nothing happens, he breathes a sigh of relief.

Only for the tadpole to react to you when you approach.

And he panics.

You? You have one of those things in your skull? What does that mean for you? Does it hurt? Is it changing you?

You don't have all the answers either. And that makes matters worse.

He promises to do everything he can to find a cure… He isn't sure what he can do, but he has to do something.

And, once things have settled with Rolan and the inn quiets down for the night (or the closest semblance of night that there is in the Shadow-Cursed Lands) they talk.

Rolan promises to ask Lorroakan if Cal can read through the library in Ramazith's Tower. A wizard, of all people, should know something about ceremorphosis… right?

Should you talk to Cal before you leave for Moonrise again, he will urge you to fight against the tadpole—to not give in. He promises to help however he can, even if all he can manage is to patch your wounds.

And, so long as you are comfortable, he'll hug you.

He doesn't want to let you go. For a moment, he doesn't think he can.

Because this amazing person, this individual who has saved his life twice and has reunited his family, well, they might die a gruesome death.

And that terrifies him.

But you survive the fight with Ketheric. And as you and your companions gather in Moonrise's throne room, Cal feels at ease. For the moment.

And he is torn. He wishes that you would travel with them to the city, but he knows that a smaller group will move faster.

Should you speak with him after the battle, he will end your conversation the way he did at the celebration in Act 1.

“Until Baldur's Gate.”

And, should you be so inclined, you could leave him with a kiss on the cheek. He’ll smile bashfully.

“Well, I really hope that there will be more where that came from.”

When he and his siblings arrive in Rivington, they try to cross Wyrm’s Crossing together.

Only Rolan is allowed to pass through Wyrm’s Rock Fortress and into the lower city. He promises to send for them soon. They just need to hold tight and wait in the refugee camp.

But time passes and the communication from Rolan is sparse. So sparse that the two of them are beginning to panic. Rolan would never leave them in the lurch like this. Not unless something was truly wrong. They make plans. There must be other means of entering the city.

And, eventually, you and your companions arrive.

And you're alive. And he holds you close, feeling your heartbeat resonate in his chest.

But he's also frustrated. He hasn't managed to find anything that might cure your ceremorphosis. And now, he and Lia are asking you to look for Rolan.

He asks you to be careful. He says he feels helpless because he can't cross into the city.

And watching you head towards Wyrm’s Crossing has him gutted. You’ll likely end up walking into danger, but was he the one who sent you straight into it with his ask?

The days in the camp were miserable to begin with. No one is happy, and the people who live in Rivington are hostile to the refugees. Time drags on.

Cal now has three people to worry about—Rolan, Lia, and you.

Are you and Rolan alive? Did Rolan make it to his apprenticeship? Did you turn into a mind flayer?

And then, a few days later, Rolan sends a letter.

He asks that Cal and Lia join him at Ramazith’s Tower. For good. They have a home now.

Cal and Lia pass by the Steel Watch and the Flaming Fist patrolling the crossing without incident.

And when they arrive at Ramazith's tower, they find their brother bruised and bloodied, but calm—relieved even.

And after the nerves of the road have settled, after they've cared for Rolan's injuries, and they are sitting in the tower’s study, Cal asks after you.

Rolan keeps the details vague, but he makes it perfectly clear that, were it not for you and your companions, the three of them wouldn't be sitting in that tower. No, if anything, Lorroakan wouldn't have lifted so much as a finger to help Cal and Lia pass into the city.

At this point, Rolan and Lia will gently tease Cal about his feelings for you.

“Well, they certainly know how to stick their nose into other people’s business, but they're tolerable enough. Invite them to dinner sometime.”

It isn't long before Cal is digging through the library, searching for books on Ceremorphosis.

Personally, I think he visits the Society of Brilliance per the suggestion of a shop patron.

And, when he gets there and the society sees how sincere Cal is, they introduce him to Omeluum.

These two hit it off, by the way.

Cal splits his work between reading through massive tomes and talking with Omeluum and Blurg.

He learns more about what it means to be a mind flayer. And he feels that, even if you were to transform, he’d want to be there to support you in whatever way he could.

And then, one day, as he is taking a break and cleaning the tower's study, you step through the portal.

He's speechless. He had realized back at Moonrise that his feelings for you extended beyond friendship, but to see you here? Now?

Rolan and Lia quietly excuse themselves while you two catch up.

You chat with him in the study, but eventually, Cal will ask for you to walk the balcony outside with him.

He is nervous.

How does he begin to thank you for everything that you have done for him and his family? How does he begin to apologize for not finding a cure?

This interaction will end with Cal asking, “When all of this is said and done… Can I see you again? I'd… very much like to take you up on that pint. To celebrate.”

This interaction can end amicably or with a hug, but should you ask him, Cal will kiss you. He's careful, as if worried that one wrong move will ruin the moment.

But, should you wish to continue the kiss, he lets himself melt into your embrace.

And, as he deepens the kiss, he'll hum softly, contentedly.

And, almost bashfully, he will mention that he'd love to show you his bedroom. He even offers for you to spend the night there. With him. Only if you want, of course.

The choice is yours.

He will say to you, either before you bid him farewell on the balcony (or as you are saying goodbye the following morning), “Please come back. Alive. I don't care if you've turned into a mind flayer or not. I just want you.”

But after Elturel's descent, where everyone prayed for the city to be returned to the material plane for life to then go back to normal (only for the Elturelian tieflings to promptly be exiled), he doesn't want to take a chance on things returning to normalcy after the Netherbrain is defeated.

So, before the final battle, the two of you get that pint at the Elfsong. And you talk for hours.

It is entirely your call if the two of you end the evening by sharing a bed.

If you do, Cal holds you the entire night. He’s almost reluctant to let you go in the morning, because he is frightened that it might be the last time he sees you alive.

Should you and Cal share a kiss at any point in Act 3, he will appear in the grand hall before the final battle.

He jokes that Rolan has been practically obsessed with getting the Tower's cannon in working order.

If you ask him for a good luck kiss, he will give you one.

This kiss is urgent. Cal's eyes are squeezed shut as he presses his lips to yours. He is desperately trying to communicate all of his feelings to you in that one moment, and he knows his time is limited.

And then he pulls back with a shaky breath, resting his forehead against yours, his thumbs running down the line of your jaw.

“Come back, alright? I’ll be here, ready to patch you up. I… I love you."

129 notes · View notes

cosmic-spider · 11 months

Text

Jax x mexican fem reader

He finds you accent funny( if you have one.) especially when you pronounce stores and other thing.

He finds it funny when you don’t remember the name of something and you just say agárra me el dese.(get me the thing) it makes him giggle a bit every time.

On the other hand, he does hate it whenever you take off your shoe and start hitting him with it. (He still doesn’t understand how a slipper or a shoe can become a lethal weapon in less than two seconds.)

He still doesn’t understand how you’re able to hit him perfectly on the head when he’s trying to run away from you before you hit him.( later on starts to ask you how to do it so you can hit other people from far away for a prank)

He loves it whenever you sing in your language either in front of the others, or even just by yourself in your room when you think no one is listening to you.( Not that he will ever tell you he dose)

He keeps your room key very close to him at all times in case he hears you start singing in your room by yourself so he can just come in and or peep through the door and listen to you sing.

I also find it fascinating on how many different ways you can dance just one song. Still doesn’t understand how you can move your feet so fast or so fluently especially your hips.

Almost ever fight the two of you have is just you getting pissed off of his jokes, and you cussing him out in Spanish, which were some reason Caine has not censored. Then him yelling at you saying “I don’t speak Taco Bell! “And then you just get pissed off and just start hitting him with your slippers/shoe.

He does love your cooking on the other hand not that he would actually tell you directly. Every now and then he’ll give a comment, saying it was good, or nice. Will eat through the pain of the spicy food. ( Will be drinking so much milk and water that he can find the moment he get out of you eyesight.)

Still doesn’t understand the nickname you call him by conejo morado.( purple bunny)

As a s/o

Loves it whenever you come to his defense and cuss whoever is bothering him. It warms is heart seeing you do that. You’re actually defending. He covered his face whenever you ask him if he’s OK since he’s blushing under the covered up part of his face with his hand.

Find that funny whenever something goes wrong on the dates that you make for the two of you.

Some of the stories about how you grow up and how your siblings active during parties in for piñata’s terrifying him.

Especially since he’s not a kid person. He could just imagine the horror trying to take care of kids that Literally run around and hit each other over candy that comes out of a piñata.( Wonders how you even survive that growing up)

Find the face smashing into birthday cake, tradition hilarious. Wants to try it on you until you told him the story where you literally gave your cousin a blackeye because of it.( things twice about ruining your birthdays now.)

Purposely does things to piss you off just so you can cause I’m out in Spanish he just stays there and looks at you with a smirk, face and flirts with you more to get your even more pissed off try to run away afterward, but gets hit in the head with a slipper.

Absolutely adores it whenever you make pan dulce (Mexican sweet breed.) Hid favorite is conchas, galletas, cono, y poquito with some coffee in the morning.

Finds the stories, you tell him about cookouts, funny and entertaining, especially on long and boring days that he has or when you tell him that someone got into a fight.

Both of you start drama and problems for the others. Then watch it on falls on the sidelines.

Is always impressed on how fast you can run whenever someone gets abstracted. ( like he’s a rabbit and he can run pretty fast, but damn, can you out run him any day)

Hates it whenever you start the cleaning ritual every Sunday or what you believe. It’s a Sunday.(especially when you start singing and blasting music out of nowhere, or when you go into his room, even though he had all the keys and other ways to get into his room.) Its his nightmare

#the amazing digital circus jax #jax x reader #the amazing digital circus #x reader #mexican #tadc jax #tadc headcanon #tadc x reader #tadc

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vintageshanny · 1 month

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Content: Elvis at the Memphian circa 1963, physical comfort from a fan, 18+

Darla glanced over her shoulder and sucked in her breath. Elvis had arrived! He looked even more beautiful than she remembered. An absolute dreamboat. He was wearing light blue pants, a black shirt, a black jacket, and black leather gloves, with a little boating cap on his head. She noticed that his pants had some sort of lace-up detail instead of a regular zipper. It gave her a funny feeling inside to look at that part of him. As her gaze lingered, she wondered how he looked underneath those pants, then scolded herself for the thought. She forced her eyes up to his face, which bore a somewhat sour expression as he sauntered down the aisle. Was she imagining things, or did his face light up when he spotted her?

“Darla, honey, i-i-it’s so nice ta see ya. I’m glad ya could make it.” He smiled and fiddled with the zipper on his jacket. He seemed almost nervous for some reason.

“Of course, Elvis. You were gone so long this time, I had ta come see ya first chance I got.”

“Yeah, six months is too long ta be gone from home. But I got two of those dang movies outta the way at least. I missed ya though. I-I-I mean, I missed ever’body, y’know?” Even in the darkness of the theater, Darla could see that Elvis was blushing as he smiled at her.

She returned his beaming grin, hoping that her eyes wouldn’t accidentally trail down his body again. As if to remind herself why she shouldn’t look at him like that, she asked “No Priscilla tonight?”

Elvis’ face transformed back to a slight scowl before he shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Nah, she didn’t feel like comin’. I never…” he trailed off, seeming to think better of unloading his relationship problems on a fan. “Well I’m sure glad you’re here though, honey.” He gave her shoulder a light squeeze before heading to his usual spot in the middle with his buddies.

“Hey Jerry, does Darla look different ta ya?” Elvis whispered as he removed his gloves. They both glanced across the aisle to study her. Darla quickly turned her head toward the movie screen, hoping they hadn’t caught her staring. She tried to discreetly peek back over and, to her surprise, they both seemed to be staring at her. She shifted a little in her seat, trying to focus on the start of the movie.

“I mean, I guess a little bit,” Jerry responded thoughtfully. “She’s 18 now. She’s not a little girl anymore.”

“Yeah, she seems ta have, y’know, filled out in all the right places,” Elvis murmured as he leaned forward onto the back of the seat in front of him, still unabashedly staring in Darla’s direction.

“Mm-hmm, she’s pretty,” Jerry nodded, being cautious not to overstep and ignite Elvis’ possessiveness. “She’s a sweet girl, too.”

“She really is, huh?” Elvis leaned back, deep in thought about how sweet Darla had been since she first started coming to the gate a few years ago. Always had a kind word of support, laughed at his jokes, wanted to be around him whenever she could. She’d probably never say she didn’t feel like comin’ to tha movies with me…

“I, uh, gotta take a leak,” Elvis announced just loud enough for Darla to overhear as he stepped past Jerry and out into the aisle. Darla couldn’t stop herself from glancing up as he walked by, and her eyes widened with surprise as he gave her a wink.

Darla remembered the welcome home card she had brought in her purse. She was too embarrassed to give it to him with other people watching, and this might be her only chance to catch him alone. She quietly snuck out of her chair and walked back to the lobby, where Elvis was just coming out of the bathroom.

“Elvis, I was lookin’ for ya, I, uh, I have a card for ya,” Darla stumbled over trying to find the right words to explain why she’d followed him to the bathroom, but he didn’t seem bothered by it at all.

“A card for me?” Elvis repeated. He sounded pleased and reached his hand out as Darla pulled the card from her purse.

“I’m sorry, it’s probably just silly, I mean you get things like this all the time,” Darla nervously rambled as he opened the card. To her horror, he began to read the message out loud.

“Dear Elvis, Welcome home ta Memphis. The whole city seems duller without ya. I always count the days ‘til ya return and bring the joy and laughter back with ya. I feel a lot less lonely when you’re around. With love, Darla.” Elvis looked up at Darla’s flushed face, his mouth turned up in a crooked grin. “That’s real sweet, honey. Not silly at all.”

Darla thought the world might just stop as Elvis pulled her into a warm hug. That funny feeling inside returned as she drank in the smell of his cologne and cigars.

Elvis was starting to feel a little funny himself as he felt Darla’s ample chest heaving against him. It was always flattering to make a woman’s heart race. He cleared his throat a little bit as he pulled back. “Hey, want me ta show ya somethin’ neat?” Darla nodded and followed as Elvis led the way.

First he grabbed some popcorn from the concession stand and then headed up a narrow staircase to the balcony seats. It was roped off, but Elvis just stepped over and then helped her up. He tried not to stare at her shapely legs when she had to raise the skirt of her royal blue dress a little bit to step over the rope. Elvis sat down in one of the seats and motioned for Darla to do the same. He put a finger to his lips, letting her know to keep quiet, and grabbed a piece of popcorn. Instead of eating it, he took careful aim and launched it over the balcony. It landed directly on Jerry’s head, and Darla had to put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing as Jerry started looking around to see what had happened. Elvis pulled Darla down to the floor before they were discovered, and the two of them started giggling quietly as they knelt there.

“That bastard thinks it’s rainin’ popcorn now,” Elvis joked with glee.

“You have such good aim!” Darla exclaimed, delighted to see him so happy.

Elvis got a funny look on his face and leaned closer. “I have good aim with my lips too,” he whispered. Before Darla knew what was happening, Elvis’ soft plush lips were smushed against hers, and her heart was thudding right out of her chest.

“Elvis, should we be doing this?” she whispered nervously as he pulled back.

“It’s jus’ a little harmless kissin’ baby, nothin’ ta worry ‘bout.” Elvis leaned back in, and Darla knew she would give him anything he wanted. He put his arm around her and helped gently lower her until she was lying on the floor. He leaned over and let his body collide into hers, the two of them pressed tightly together as he kissed her again, this time letting his tongue slip into her mouth.

Darla felt tingly all over as Elvis’ tongue intertwined with her own, his hand tracing up and down her side and then softly caressing her breast. He finally pulled back and stared down at her with a blissful expression.

“Did ya like that, honey?”

“That felt real nice, Elvis. I’ve never, uh, I mean it felt real nice,” she repeated nervously, feeling embarrassed to admit her inexperience.

Elvis smiled and helped her up into the seat again. He held her hand and stroked the back of it as they both pretended to focus on the movie. Elvis took his hat off and set it on the seat next to him, running his hand through his hair, hoping it didn’t look a mess. He glanced over and saw that Darla’s chest was still heaving and she seemed to be clenching her legs together. He wondered how aroused she was. She seemed so sweetly nervous about it all. He let his hand creep up under her skirt, his fingertips dancing along her soft thigh.

“Elvis wh-what are ya doin?” she whispered, but she didn’t grab his hand to stop him. Instead she subconsciously spread her legs a little further apart, allowing him to walk his fingers all the way up to that spot that had been feeling funny and achy since she saw him walk in earlier.

“I ain’t gonna hurt ya Darla honey,” Elvis spoke in a hushed tone that sent a little shiver through her body. His fingers pressed gently against her privates, stroking softly up and down, but he kept them outside of her panties, which she now realized felt oddly damp. Her body felt like it might go up in flames and she released a soft moan as Elvis’ fingers moved slowly back down her thigh, leaving a little trail of wetness behind. “I jus’ wanted ta see if you’re as excited as I am.”

“Are ya excited too?” Darla asked, looking down at where she knew his excitement might show. The laces on his pants looked even tighter than before, like they were struggling to contain what was underneath. “I like those laces,” Darla murmured, unable to take her eyes off him.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that honey? What do they make ya think about?” Elvis smirked at the way Darla was blushing so deeply now.

“Makes me think about unlacin’ ‘em.” Darla moved her hand steadily up his leg, hoping he enjoyed it as much as she had when he touched her. “And lookin’ at what’s inside there.” She swallowed nervously and looked up in apprehension as her hand reached the thick bulge underneath the laces.

Elvis nodded reassuringly, although he looked a little nervous too. “Go ‘head baby. You can have a look.”

Darla pulled on the laces, loosening the waistband of his pants. She tugged it open and let out a small gasp when she saw he wasn’t even wearing any underwear. She stared down, frozen, unsure of what to do next now that she was face to face with his privates.

Elvis reached down and pulled his penis out of his pants, breathing a little sigh of relief. “Ah that’s better. Was gettin’ a little tight in there.” He smiled as Darla continued staring nervously. “Ya wanna touch it baby? He likes ta be touched.” Darla nodded. She could feel her panties getting even wetter as Elvis took her hand and wrapped it around himself. He felt so thick and warm. A quiet moan escaped him as he guided Darla to pump him up and down.

“I like ta see ya feel good,” Darla whispered, noting the way Elvis’ head had dropped back and his eyes closed. He looked relaxed except for the way his breathing was speeding up.

“Ya know what would feel even better baby?” Elvis had almost a pleading look in his eyes. “Could ya give him a little kiss?”

Darla’s eyes widened in surprise, but she couldn’t deny that the thought excited her. She leaned down over his lap and pressed her lips against the tip of his penis. She decided to kiss it how he’d been kissing her and slipped her tongue out of her mouth, letting it run all over him, all the way down to where his hair grew at the base. It felt good to have her mouth on him like that.

This time Elvis’ moan was louder. Almost too loud. “Okay, baby, we gotta stop or I’m gonna have a mess to clean up.” Darla leaned back in her seat as Elvis tucked himself back in and tied the laces of his pants. “We should go back down to our seats before the whole dang movie’s over.”

Darla nodded and rose from her seat, feeling a little funny about going back down to sit alone after all that just happened. She straightened her dress out before heading for the stairs. Once they got to the lobby, Elvis headed toward the bathroom. “I, uh, gotta take care of somethin’ real quick.”

“That’s okay, I should probably get home anyway.” Darla turned to leave the theater, but Elvis grabbed her real quick, pulling her into another tight hug.

“Darla, I hope I see ya again real soon. I feel less lonely when you’re around too.” He pressed a kiss to her lips and headed into the bathroom so he could take care of his issue.

Darla left the theater feeling a little better about it all. She didn’t think it was possible that she could be as special to Elvis as he was to her, but being able to make him feel so good put her on top of the world.

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @lookingforrainbows @thatbanditqueen @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @arrolyn1114 @atleastpleasetelephone

#elvis #elvis fan fic #elvis fan fiction #elvis x oc #elvis smut #Elvis lace up pants #they do something to me

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