#I'm concerned but not anxious; that's what I'm saying really
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Little Life
Ghosting Series pt. 3
Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! Reader
Cw: pregnancy stuff, reader is female, cursing (let me know I I missed anything)
A/N: sorry if this is very short the chapters may be pretty short just so my motivation to keep writing can stay.
Part 2 here
“Alright hon, if you can lay on the bed and lift you shirt over you belly please.” Dr. Raven says, the woman pointing to the dull looking patient bed with thin paper lining fitted over the top.
You follow her words and sit down on the bed, the cushion was surprisingly comfortable to sit on. You bring your shirt up over your stomach stopping at your rib cage and lay back waiting for Raven to prepare for the scanning. You watch as she brings out a plastic bottle you assumed was the gel, as she opened the plastic cap as she looks at you. “Okay, I’m going to put this on your abdomen. Be prepared, this will be cold.” She says as she squeezes the bottle over your stomach, the bright translucent blue gel slithers out the opening and trails down towards your stomach.
The moment it makes contact with your skin, your stomach retracted back at the cold viscous material. You shudder a breath and laugh a bit. “You weren’t lying.” You joked as Raven smiled and chucked at your response.
“Always takes them by surprise.” She says before she finishes squeezing the bottle, pulling it away and closing the cap back on. Placing it down on the table beside her she grabs the transducer clicking a few buttons and the screen turns on. She places the nub against your abdomen and spread the gel around your stomach and looks at the screen seeing the scan coming through as she adjusts it to hover where your uterus is.
You watch the screen feeling a bit anxious as you watch trying to figure out exactly what you were seeing, after a couple seconds you soon immediately spot a little white blob. A baby.
“There it is. Your baby.” She tells you as you stare at the screen in awe. That’s really inside you. Your baby slowly growing by the second, yours and Simon’s baby.
“So tiny.” You say as Dr. Raven nods to your words.
“You’re only eight weeks currently, it looks like you and the baby are doing just fine so far, baby is healthy and growing, overall you’re both doing great. I’ll provide you with some prenatal vitamins for you to take. I did notice in your readings, your blood pressure is a bit high than we’d like it to be so I need you to make sure you’re not overworking yourself, do more things to keep you calm and not focus and do things that cause you such distress if that’s possible. Other than that, you’re all set and good to go. Do you have any questions for me?” Dr. Raven says as she takes a few pictures of the scan to print out for you.
You breathe out in relief, the baby is all good. You figured the high blood pressure was definitely caused by the whole situation with Simon so you don’t know how you can make yourself forget about it, on top of that you’ve also been worried about finding a place to live and trying to figure out your financial situation now with Simon out of the picture. You take a deep breath and nod at Dr. Ravens advice. “I’ll be sure not to.” You tell her with a small smile as she hands you a paper towel to wipe off the gel, which you take.
“Would you be comfortable with telling me about the cause for your mental or physical wellbeing may be? Anything that maybe I could help you with if possible.” She asks you; you can spot the concern in her eyes when she brings it up.
You shake your head and ignore the feeling you felt as she brings it up but regardless you smile and shake your head. “Just trying to deal with not having the father in the picture. He decided he didn't want to be around." You tell her as she nods, understanding your words.
"I'm sorry to hear that." She tells you as you simply shrug your shoulders pulling you shirt back down.
"it's fine, think we'll be better off without him anyways.” You tell her. It's true, to an extent, at least that’s what keep telling yourself. You know you can do this all on your own. It won't be easy, but you hope you can manage. But deep down, you know you'll never be okay not having him by your side. He’ll miss out on so much, like watching your baby grow, learning and growing along with the baby as that baby also learns from you. You both won’t grow old together like you both wanted, with a bunch of animals, but with the baby included, maybe one or two more if things had worked out in the end.
You finish up the remaining paper work you had to sign and received your vitamins. Dr. Raven hands the ultrasound pictures to you in a white envelope and you make your way back to the lobby where Jared waited, still sitting and reading the pamphlets. He looks up as he notices you approaching and smiles as he stands up. “How’d it go?” He asks you.
You hold up the envelope with a smile. “It was great, got to see the baby, doctor said that they’re healthy and everything looks good thankfully. Just have to focus on not stressing myself out so much.” You tell him as you both make your way out of the building and into the parking lot.
“That’s great to hear. I’m sure Stacy already told you but she has a surprise in stock for you but she’s wondering if you have anything nice to wear.” He asks you as you approach the car.
Opening the car door you think for a minute before you nodded. “Yeah, I should.” You tell him. You’re sure you can find something. You took everything with you when you left Simon’s place, all your things are still in boxes save for the necessities that you need, but you’re sure you can find something.
On the drive back you spent the entire car ride back home staring and looking at the ultrasound picture, the little blob that you still couldn’t grasp was your baby, just still needed some more months to grow before you can meet them and that made you anxious. You don’t think you could wait that long.
“What’re you hoping for?” Jared asks you, steering the wheel as he switches to the next lane, glancing at the photos in your hand.
You think about it for a moment, it hasn’t crossed your mind surprisingly. Either one would be great, there was a moment where you dreamt of having a baby girl with Simon. You can’t lie, the sight of Simon being a girl dad made you all giddy and warm. Then thinking about a little boy, one that looked like a copy and paste of Simon would be so cute. You smile as the possibilities ran through your head, of course you’re just being delusional, you wouldn’t be able to see that happen ever. Just a thought in the back of your mind.
“Honestly either would be great. I don’t mind what I have, as long as the baby is healthy that’s enough for me.” You say tucking the photos into your purse, holding it close to you.
Jared smiled and nodded. “Sounds great, you’ll make a great mother. I’m sure of it.” He says to you as you smile, the reassurance from Jared was something you didn’t know you needed but greatly appreciated.
“Thanks.” You say to him, before you know it you’ve finally made it back home.
Once you arrived home you got out the car and walked into the house. Right away Stacy approached you with a smile.
“How’d it go?” She asks you as she gets up from the soft couch and walking over towards you and Jared.
You pull out the envelope and pull out the multiple pictures and hand them out for her. Upon seeing them she awe’s as she examined the little bean like fetus. “Little baby.” She coos before looking at you. “How far along are you?” She asks you.
“Eight weeks. I’ll be able to see the baby’s gender by fourteen weeks.” You tell her as she hands back the photos to you. Placing them in you bag you can see Stacy smile as she walks towards the island counter of in the kitchen. “Oh, what was that surprise you had in store?” You ask her.
She props herself up on the counter with her elbows and looks at the time. “We decided to treat you to dinner tonight. We have a reservation set for six tonight. You feeling up for it?” She asks you.
You take a moment to think and nod your head a bit excited to hear you’ll be eating at a restaurant feeling your hormones go crazed at the thought of food. “Yeah, I’ll get ready now.” You tell her with a wide smile. You haven’t eaten out at a restaurant in a long time. Last time you went was with Simon for the last anniversary together.
Making your way to your ‘room’ you take out a box with your fancier clothes. Opening the box you pull out multiple tops, bottoms, and dresses. Finally choosing one you like you slip the dress on and admire yourself in the mirror. You bump is bulging out a bit, you take the time to admire it.
You took the time to shower, do your make up and get dressed right on time. Stacy looked at your outfit as you did a 360 showing off your outfit. “You’re not even half way into pregnancy and already look like a milf.” Stacy jokes, you laugh as you grab your purse.
“Don’t tell me lies Stace.” You tell her as she shrugs her shoulder.
“I only tell the truth.” She says as you both walk out the door and towards the already running car where Jared sat in waiting for you two.
“Fuckin’ hell.”
A click from the lock sounds from the front door as it swings open. Simon’s bulking frame walks through the door as he scans the house. It’s dark and eerily silent.
When Simon came back, he felt like shit. His heart dreaded coming home to see your answer. He hoped you stayed, at least long enough till he came back, he planned to move out the house and leave it for you if you decided to keep the baby. It would give him a peace of mind to know where you were and know that you and the kid were safe, and you could use the extra room and space for the baby. But, even if you got rid of it, he doesn’t know if your relationship could ever be the same.
However your answer was first made clear when your car not in the drive way. His heart dropped but he took a deep breath, ‘Maybe she’s at the store.’ He thought. He hadn’t texted you either to let him know he was coming home today, he couldn’t bring himself too.
You’re not here. It’s something Simon suspected but he still feels dread overcome him as he steps into the house and notices the little things around the house that belonged to you were gone. Your shoes were gone, your car keys, the blanket you left on the couch is gone. He walks into your shared bedroom, which is now his bedroom, opening the door and he’s stunned with how much of an eye sore it is. His room is so plain now, like how it looked before you moved in with him.
He remembers how much you wanted to decorate the place, especially the bedroom, you hated how lifeless the whole house looked. It didn’t take much to convince him to let you decorate saying , “Go crazy.” And you did. Literally. You decorated adding a touch of you but keeping it to an extent to not overwhelm Simon. You hung up a few decorations and posters in the bed room of bands you and Simon both loved. A few shelves displaying your books and trinkets. Your touch added to his home making it more like home for him. Like you were his home. He liked, loved it if he dare say, he worried you would over do the place but it look perfect. Like you.
But now as he looked around the house, he sees the walls are bare and plain. He feels plain now, empty. Sad. He looks through your closet and drawers only to find them completely bare and empty.
He walks into the living room notices your shoes are gonna as well from the rack, and the little table beside the front door, he noticed the white folded paper on the little ceramic plate that held their keys, walking over he pick up the paper seeing his name written on it in your hand writing, unfolding it reveals page with your writing inked into the material.
‘I know we made a promise but this is something that takes two to do, accidents happen and I know you never wanted children and you knew it was still on the table for me, I’m thankful that you gave me a choice, even if it wasn’t easy. I don’t want to drag you into something you never wanted but it still hurts that I have to chose between you and this baby. I figured it was best for the both of us if I left, you can keep your home and I can keep my baby. I hope you stay safe out there Simon and please take care of yourself. I still and always will love you and I’m sorry.’ Simon checked the back of the paper for anything else but it was empty. You didn’t say where or what you were going to do and it scared Simon. Were you safe, do you have a place to stay, do you have people to help?
He knew you weren’t really in any contact with your family, your only friends were Johnny, Gaz, and Price. His ‘friends’ were yours. For the most part Simon knew you didn’t have anyone to help you or look after you and the baby. “Fuck!”
Taglist <3
@wise-owl @sandyseagullsip @mileyraes @nicolebarnes @nikkyevansdochen22 @mattmurdock-wife24 @demonking-69 @mooievis @lunamoonbby @cherrycosmos392 @eevee-of-eternity @makimamybelovedwife @venavanup @amberpanda99 @simplyymee98 @callmeluno @stormy-stardust @ssc7514 @badbitchthings @moldypeaching @asteria33 @going-through-shit @blarba-girl @leonsgirlie @andoraamore @nobodycanknoww @thegreyjoyed @natashamea18 @kylies-love-letter @blackhawkfanatic @leehoonii-i @xenop0p @sh1ga-to3s
#cod mw2 x reader#ghost x reader#mw2 ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon x reader#cod x reader#cod mw2 ghost x reader#cod mwii x reader#simon ghost riley x you
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Having thoughts about age gap au Gale hiding an injury/illness from John because his dad always made him feel like a burden and that hurt was deserved 💔 and John losing his mind but trying not to show it as he takes care of Gale, or maybe he doesn't get to because Gale has to go to the hospital and John gets the call while he's at work </3 these boys can fit so much whump and trauma and comfort
ughhhh yes putting Gale into the whump blender again :(( I want to traumatize this boy forever that is my lot in life
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Gale knew to never show weakness. It's what he was taught from an incredibly young age, weakness meant you could be picked from the crowd, weakness meant that you weren't good enough.
There was a lot of things Gale's father viewed as a weakness. Being sick, scraping your knees, getting hurt and you better not think about crying because at that point you'd be better off dead anyway. Gale learned to hide it whenever he got sick, to lick his wounds in solitude, and to never, ever, ask for help or pity.
So Gale didn't even flinch when he woke up with a 102 degree fever. He's lived through worse, no need to be a baby about it. He got ready for his classes like normal, kissed John goodbye, and waved off his looks of concern when John pressed his cheek to Gales forehead, fretted about him running hot. Gale was fine, he didn't need John's help.
He was able to get through his first class without many problems, he felt waves of nausea periodically and some bouts of lightheadedness, but Gale wasn't going to let that take him down. His second class was a little worse, his hands quivered when he tried to write and the nausea stayed, no longer ebbing in and out in waves.
Gale passes out around lunchtime, Marge by his side and all he can really hear is her anxious fretting, calls of his name and yelling at someone to phone the hospital. He remembers weakly trying to push her off, says he's fine, but Marge tells him to shut the fuck up, he's going to the damn hospital. He doesn't remember much after that.
He wakes up to the soft beeping of a heart monitor, the bright fluorescent lights of a hospital room and he groans. Gale shouldn't be here. He's taking up the space that someone else needs more, he doesn't deserve the time or energy that people are wasting on him. He doesn't get to dwell too much before John is quickly at his side, taking his hand and pushing his hair back. His lips press into a thin line, palm pressing against the sure heat that Gale gives off.
"Baby? Are you okay? God Marge told me you collapsed and I left work immediately. Fuck Gale you should have told me you weren't feeling good," John frets and Gale just shakes his head weakly.
"I'm fine, John. I'm good, you didn't need to leave work just for me. When are they gonna let me out?" Gale asks and his voice is hoarse.
John's brow furrows and his expression grows stern.
"Gale, no, you're not fine. You have a 103 degree fever and you're shaking like a damn leaf. I'm not gonna stay at work when I know you're sick," John says and Gale can feel another wave of nausea that isn't caused by the sickness.
Gale turns his head against the pillow, avoiding John's gaze and he can feel his eyes well up. No, no, he can't cry. Crying is the worst thing he could do right now. But the tears come anyway, streaming down his face steadily and John rushes down to wipe them away, fretting all over again.
"Hey, hey, baby, Gale, come on don't cry. It's okay, I'm not mad I swear. You should have just told me you weren't feeling well, I could have helped, then maybe you wouldn't have fainted," John says, a firm thumb brushing away the tears that stream down his face and Gale shakes his head.
"Don't... don't wanna be a burden," Gale manages to choke and John shushes him and forces Gale's head to turn towards him.
John's face is both soft and firm, his eyes filled with emotion that's both frustration and affection. Gale hates how worried he looks, just because Gale's a little bit sick.
"Gale, you will never be a burden to me. I promised your mama I would protect you, and I promised you the same. I love you, Gale, and if it takes me dropping everything for you to understand how much you mean to me, I'll do it in a heartbeat," John says, cupping Gale's face with both of his hands.
Gale squeezes his eyes shut because he knows if he looks at John anymore he'll just ugly sob, grabs John's wrist and nuzzles his soaked face into it, gasps and chokes as he continues to sob, John shushing him and bringing him in closer until their foreheads are pressed together, breathing heavily against his face.
"I swear, Gale, you are not a burden. You are my everything, doll, my everything," John whispers, and Gale can only nod, finally allowing himself to melt into the sheets, letting himself feel fatigued and exhausted and sick because John is letting him, allowing him to let go.
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#I don't think I want to make a proper post about this because I don't want to get anyone worrying#truth is everything I'm about to say... we're already more or less there#but various conflicts around the world... what they're really exposing is just how much damage a single drone with an explosive can do#Ukraine with russian oil refineries; houthis against global shipping#...I can't deny that someone could do a whole lot of damage very easily these days to say... a port#drone boat to hit something in the water; flying drone to hit some major infrastructure#again; don't sit up worrying about this... this isn't like a 'trust the government' kinda speech#but... I sure as hell ain't the only one noticing this; hopefully things are being done to make this harder#though... man... it's not exactly easy to deal with#but also... what is worrying going to do about this? it's something that catches in my mind a lot but I don't exactly worry#honestly in the US for instance another shooting is way more likely unfortunately#but... it's just worrying... eh; this post must sound confusing; but there's more than one way to use worry; right?#worry anxiety; worry concern; all that kinda stuff#I'm concerned but not anxious; that's what I'm saying really#it's bad because an explosive and a consumer drone... there's a lot I can think of you could do with it#and while it's not like you're gonna come to me for these kinda ideas; I don't think I feel like listing off dangerous domestic targets#...but what can you do? just keep trying to do what you can when you can#...just a trend I've noticed is all and... it's not an ideal trend
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[A sad violin song plays over an image of a sad hamster]
Pac: This doesn't have anything to do with me – I wear a blue sweatshirt, you're crazy, this mouse doesn't even have a sweatshirt, this hamster! [Reading chat] Am I a depressed hamster?
[ Transcript continued ↓ ]*
–
Pac: Actually– that's fine! I embrace that idea – of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy? [He hits his desk, then starts counting off people on his fingers] Fit is gone, Richarlyson is gone, Ramon is gone, Bagi and Empanada who were always there when we were there are also gone, I haven't seen them! It's just me and Tubbo, and sometimes Philza shows up.
Pac: I lost Chume Labs, I lost the Favela, I lost Murder Mystery, I lost Ilha Chume Labs, it's crazy! Look at how much I've lost, and I've gained nothing! Of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy?! How am I supposed to be happy?!
Pac: [Reading chat] "You have us Pac," that's true, thank you. No, that's true, sorry.
* NOTE: Please note that this is an incomplete transcript, as I was primarily relying on Aypierre's translation mod at the time and if I am not confident of the translation, I do not include it. As always, please feel free to add on translations or message me corrections.
#Pactw#QSMP#Pac#March 18 2024#As much as I love keeping people updated about Pac / the other Portuguese-speaking creators#I think I might not make as many transcribed posts for their clips anymore#I just don't think I'm qualified enough to be transcribing things for a language I don't know#like yeah we have the Qlobal Translator and Aypierre's translators to rely on#And I'm always upfront when I'm not 100% sure about a translation#but I've been thinking about it a lot and it kinda makes me feel a bit icky. Idk.#I might be overthinking this but I just I don't want to spread around translations I'm not super confident about#esp. since I know a lot of people cite my clips in analysis posts or link them to other people as resources#and 90% of the time I'm like ''Hell yeah I love seeing people getting a lot of use out of the archive''#but sometimes I get a bit anxious like ''Did I do a good enough job translating this''#''Am I ruining someone's entire perception of a conversation or character because I left one word out or mistranslated something?''#And like I said that's normally not a HUGE concern since if I'm not certain about a translation I just won't post a clip. but you know#idk it might just be the anxiety talking but I really really don't want to spread bad info#Happy to hear other folks' perspective#I'm really grateful for people like Bell and Pix and others who translate clips and I always try to reblog those#but we don't have a ton of people posting clips & translating things on Tumblr since we're so English-centric#which is part of the reason WHY I like sharing clips of the non-English-speaking CCs#but at the same time I want to do an accurate job representing what they're saying#Maybe I'll just start posting things and give a TLDR context of what they're talking about but not a transcript#that way native-speakers can hop in and add translations if that's something they're comfortable doing#and if not then well. at least I'm not sharing something that isn't super accurate#idk I'm just thinking out loud a bit in the tags#But I'm open to hearing other people's thoughts on the matter#Anyways giant rant aside. q!Pac is NOT doing ok rn
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Restaurant food is either too expensive or viscerally uncomfortable to imagine eating or both but I'm still nervous about eating off dishes at home because of the dishwasher and unrelated I think I'm developing actual eating disorder mindset things
#ED ment#I say actually bc a while ago I got very anxious I would Accidentally develop and ED which. Not really how that works I believe#Mostly it was me worried my lack of appetite (which probably was a problem) and green tea consumption (I only bring this up bc it was the#Specific trigger bc someone mentioned it suppressed appetite) I was gonna end up ruining my body thru malnutrition or something#Aaand now (I'm going to talk Abt actual eating disorder mindset stuff)#///////////////////#I'm genuinely thinking a bunch Abt the fact it feels good and makes me feel in control to not eat. I don't have body issues I believe so#It's about the mental pleasure of restriction and what feels like self control (not really imo) and also literally I ended up thinking like#''oh I can avoid eating and then Eat A Lot Of Calories and that's fine and normal and healthy ish'' and no. No I don't think that is#I'm pretty safe bc I'm mostly able to just. Eat and break the spiral but it's still somewhat concerning#And then even when I want to eat all food sounds disgusting and nauseating and nasty and bad and I feel like I'm going to throw up if I#Think about eating. And i can't trust the dishwasher
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The soul does not lie
synopsis: Sukuna allows tedious nonsense when he can feel your soul's cravings.
〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰
Though he hardly mentions it, Sukuna can, in fact, feel your soul in a way that a normal sorcerer never could. Knowing this helps to make sense of the fact that the man can always tell when you are distressed, even when you try to hide it.
You had discovered this little ability of his when he had come stomping in from the gardens one day while you watched unblinkingly at a horror film.
With your eyes only visible through the slots of your fingers you looked up to see him standing, arms crossed, in the entry way of his chambers.
"What is it that brings you fear?" He had thundered.
"W-what... no, nothing, I'm just watching a movie, see?" You flipped your phone around for the man too see but he did not take his eyes off your form.
"I do not repeat myself." His four eyes were squinted and his eyebrows arched in a dangerously attractive way.
"Kuna' it's a horror movie, that's all, I'm not really scared." You finally announced to the rolling of four red eyes.
"Your soul states otherwise." He quipped before drawing close to try and see what had your soul trembling so fearfully. He was disappointed, to say the least when he was unable to identify what was so "horrific" about your film.
And that marked the moment you realized that Sukuna was able to feel you in a way you could not understand.
Sukuna was NOT a gentleman, he was far, far from it. He loved to bring terror to the masses, very rarely did he allow another beings to so much as speak in his presence. He did, however, have "soft spots" for creatures that sparked his interest, and those remarkably loyal.
Even so, he did not make efforts to calm your nerves when you were anxious. He did not feel the slightest effect in his chest when your sorrow was palpable. He would certainly not allow for time to be wasted on your souls quivering's. That-was none of his concern.
It was not as if he was taking any actions when he allowed your pathetic "cuddling" nonsense when he felt the pangs of misery that surrounded your essence.
You had tried to hold him in the past but he did not see the use in wrapping oneself around another. Even so, he found himself pretending to sleep (even though he did not need it) when he sensed your desperation for his touch.
Likewise, when he could feel the shaky and childish excitement that bled from your soul when you were happy, he could not seem to help but humor you.
As mentioned, Sukuna does not require sleep like your helpless human form. Still, it was not uncommon for the king of curses to close his eyes, relaxing in his ultimate power. Be it when he bathes, when he is lounging on his palace's engawa, when he is seated on his throne, or even when he reclines himself along his chamber's bed.
Sukuna had his eyes closed one evening, feeling his power splay out from his body, grasping at the forms of everyone within his domain. When he sensed your spirit, quickly approaching his chambers.
He made the decision then to seem uninterested when you clambered through the doors.
He could hear the switch in your step as you drew in a breath, clearly forgetting what you had wished to say at the sudden image before you.
The bloodthirsty man had never looked more like a jungle cat, lying atop his bed in such a lazy fashion. He felt the exact moment your soul leapt. He knew you had covered your mouth as your heavy breathing had dulled despite your heartbeat climbing to unusual heights.
He knew of your antics. Having felt you chew on each of his biceps several times. You had that same giddiness now. It was simply that he did not care to move that he kept his eyes closed. Pretending not to notice as you took out your phone, your feet dancing around him. He'll allow you to take your ridiculous photos, he's too... relaxed... to... take issue with your senseless mischief.
He could tell you had finished when he heard you pocket your phone once more, your hands covering your beating heart, you leaned down, holding your breath. The king of curses had to keep himself from squishing his face in ....disgust.... as you planted a chaste kiss in the space between his lower eye and his upper lip.
"You're too precious." You quietly whisper. Brushing your hand softly through his hair. And Sukuna rolled his eyes behind his lids.
Such foolishness he has never seen. Even so- he will allow it.
#jujutsu kaisen#sukuna headcanons#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#ryoumen sukuna#sukuna#sukuna hcs#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna fluff#sukuna fluff#ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen sukuna
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better for you | s.jy
childhood best friend!jake x fem!reader (ft. bf!hoon)
warnings: smut (mdni), fingering, cheating (pls don't do that), tasting, possessive and jealous jake, competition and tension, petnames (baby), kinda dom!jake, anything else lmk!
w.c: 2.5k
REQ: Thinking about childhood friend jaeyun who has always had a crush on you but you had no idea and you show up to a family dinner with your new boyfriend and they keep competing silently yk? To prove who’s better and suddenly Jakes like well who can fuck her better 😋
a/n: i'm sorry to the anon who requested this! i have been so busy with other projects but i'm focusing on these drabbles today and well, your req became a semi-one shot so, i hope this is what you were after (sorry if it isn't)
"Hi everyone, meet Sunghoon," you introduce your boyfriend for the first time, a nervous flutter in your stomach. Your family have heard all the gushy stories and know how handsome he is, but seeing him in person is another matter entirely. As you look around the room, you can sense their anticipation and curiosity. Each member of your family has formed their own mental image of Sunghoon, based on your endless anecdotes and glowing descriptions.
The introduction feels like a moment of truth, but there’s a more pressing concern weighing on your mind. Among your family, it's your childhood best friend Jake who you're most worried about. He's always been incredibly protective of you, and he's never shy about expressing his opinions on your past relationships.
Jake has a knack for spotting red flags, or at least fabricating them, and hasn't really liked any of your previous boyfriends. His sceptical nature and protective instinct have always made you slightly apprehensive about introducing new partners to him.
It’s the main reason you have taken this long to allow Sunghoon to meet anyone. Jake’s opinion is so valuable to you but you really like your new boyfriend and hearing Jake’s disapproval will only deter your blossoming relationship. It’s been 4 months of sneaking around and telling your best friend lies just to be able to go on dates, and when he eventually found out you were bringing someone to the family dinner which was for your sibling’s graduation, safe to say he was shocked and unimpressed.
Sunghoon stands by your side, exuding confidence and warmth. You can see your family's eyes widen as they take in his appearance, and his charm is evident even in the briefest of introductions. Your parents smile politely, and your siblings exchange curious glances because they secretly wonder where you found an adonis like him, but it's Jake's reaction that you’re most anxious about. He's standing off to the side, arms crossed, his expression inscrutable.
You can feel your pulse quicken as Jake steps forward. Sunghoon, ever the gentleman, extends a hand. "Nice to meet you, Jake. Y/N has told me a lot about you."
"Funny, she didn't mention you until two days ago," Jake snides back, making your shoulders tense.
There’s a brief, tense silence, and then Jake takes your boyfriend’s hand in his. Relief washes over you as you realise that this first hurdle has been crossed, and you can only hope that Sunghoon's genuine nature will win Jake over in time.
That hope is short-lived, however, when it comes to actually having the dinner. The tension is palpable, a simmering undercurrent that you can’t ignore. The first sign of trouble appears almost immediately. As you sit down, Jake reaches to pour you a glass of water, but Sunghoon beats him to it. They exchange tight smiles, the gesture seemingly innocent but loaded with unspoken rivalry.
Throughout the meal, their petty squabbles continue. When you ask for the salt, both Jake and Sunghoon reach for it at the same time. Their hands collide, and they both laugh, but it's a strained, competitive sound. Jake ends up passing you the salt, his eyes lingering on Sunghoon, a silent challenge in his gaze. You can sense Sunghoon picking up on the vibe that Jake doesn't like him, his smile becoming more forced with each passing minute.
Every small task becomes a battleground. Jake offers to pass the bread, but Sunghoon intercepts it. When you compliment Sunghoon’s story about his recent trip, Jake interrupts with a sarcastic comment, turning the conversation back to a shared childhood memory between you and him. It's as if they're vying for your attention and approval, each small victory feeling like a step towards winning a larger, unspoken war.
With both of them at your side, you can feel the apprehension drifting between them, a taut string ready to snap. Your family tries to carry on as usual, but their glances betray their awareness of the undercurrent. You laugh a little too loudly at your sister’s joke, trying to break the awkwardness, but it only makes the silence that follows more pronounced.
As the dinner progresses, the tension between Jake and Sunghoon shows no signs of abating. Sunghoon tries to engage with your family, but Jake's constant interruptions and snide remarks are making it difficult for everyone to relax. You feel the pressure mounting and try to keep the conversation light, but it's clear that the two most important men in your life are locked in a silent battle.
Then it happens. Jake places his hand on your thigh under the table. The touch is innocent but it only amplifies your exasperation. You've had enough. Standing abruptly, you drag Jake up with you, ignoring the curious stares from your family. "Excuse us for a moment," you mutter, leading him towards your childhood bedroom.
Once inside, you close the door behind you, whirling to face him. "What the hell, Jake?" you hiss, your voice low but heated. "Can't you, for once, just let me have a boyfriend without making it a competition?"
“I don’t like him,” he shrugs, acting nonchalant as if he hasn’t just ruined not only your night but your sibling’s graduation dinner. He’s acting selfish and he knows it, yet, he can’t stop himself.
"What do you mean you don't like him?" you retort, frustration bubbling over. "He's done nothing but try to be polite and engage with everyone, including you!"
Jake remains silent for a moment, his jaw clenched. What you don’t know, despite the obviousness to everyone around you, is that Jake has been in love with you since your first year of high school. Every passing moment, he wishes you would see him as more than just your best friend and confess your feelings to him. He doesn’t want to be the one to do it in case he ruins everything you have; he would rather have you as a friend than nothing at all.
"He's not good enough for you," Jake finally says, his voice strained. "I don't trust him."
"You don't even know him!" you snap, exasperated. "You just don't want me to be happy with anyone else."
Jake crosses his arms, protecting his heart from his next question. "Why him?" he challenges, his tone equally fiery. "What makes him so special?"
"Because he's good to me, Jake!" you explode, pacing the room in frustration. "He's smart, he's kind, listens to me, and he fucks me good! What's not to want?"
Jake's eyes darken, his jaw tightening. For a moment, the air between you is thick with unspoken words. Then he steps closer, his voice a low growl. “And I’m not all those things? You think I couldn’t fuck you good?”
The bluntness of his words takes you aback. You stare at him, shock and confusion swirling in your mind. This was the last thing you expected to hear. Jake's confession hangs heavy in the air, the implications of it crashing over you like a tidal wave.
Jake moves closer, his presence overwhelming. “You think he’s the only one who can make you feel good? You have no idea what I could do to you.” His voice is low, filled with a mixture of frustration and desire. “All these years, I’ve watched you with these guys who don’t even know how to touch you. Do you have any idea how much it kills me to see you with them?”
Your heart races, the air between you charged with a tension that’s both terrifying and exhilarating. “Jake, this isn’t...”
He cuts you off, his voice rough. “You think he’s smart and kind? I’ve been there for you through everything. I know you better than anyone. And as for fucking you good?” He steps even closer, his breath hot against your skin. “I’d have you begging for more. I’d fuck you so good you’d forget anyone else ever touched you.”
The intensity in his eyes makes your knees weak. “Jake, you can’t just say these things...”
“Oh, I can and I will,” he growls, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you against him. “I’ve been holding back for so long, but I can’t anymore. You need to know what you’ve been missing. I’d kiss every inch of you, make you scream my name until you can’t take it anymore.”
His words send a shiver down your spine, heat pooling in your core. You can feel his desire, his need for you, and it ignites something deep within you. “Jake...”
“You think he can make you happy? He doesn’t even know you like I do. He doesn’t know how to touch you, how to make you feel alive.” His hands roam over your body, teasing and possessive. “I’d take my time with you, show you what it means to really be wanted, to be loved. I’d make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”
His words are a heady mix of promise and challenge, and you can’t help the desire that rises in response. “Jake, this is...”
“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “Tell me you don’t want me.”
You tremble, torn between the intense connection you share with Jake and the forming adoration you have for Sunghoon. But in this moment, with Jake’s words wrapping around you, it’s impossible to deny the truth. “Jake, I...”
“Just admit it,” he whispers, his hands sliding to your back, caressing your skin. “Admit that you’ve thought about it. That you’ve thought about us.”
Your breath hitches as his hands move with confidence and familiarity, igniting a fire within you. “Jake, please...”
You can’t say no because you have, of course, you have. He is right about everything. He is smart and kind, and he does treat you well, better than any man ever could. But there is a line to be crossed between friendship, especially one as precious as yours.
Maybe that line is a little blurred at this moment.
“I’ll make you mine…and you’ll never want anyone else again,” he growls, his lips finally claiming yours in a searing kiss.
Jake’s lips bruise against yours, the kiss intense and demanding. His hands roam over your body with a possessiveness that leaves you breathless. Without breaking the kiss, he manoeuvres you towards the bed, his grip firm yet gentle.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice a low growl. He pushes you back onto the bed, his eyes dark with desire. Your heart races as he hovers over you, his gaze burning into yours.
“Jake,” you whisper, your voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and fear. “We shouldn’t…”
“We should,” he interrupts, his hands already hiking up your skirt. “I need to show you what you’ve been missing.”
His fingers glide up your thighs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He spreads your legs, his eyes locked onto yours as he settles between them. “You have no idea how many nights I’ve dreamed about this,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “How many times I’ve imagined touching you, tasting you, making you drip just at my voice."
His fingers find your panties, pulling them aside. You gasp as his fingers brush against your wetness, teasing you. “You’re already so wet,” he murmurs, his tone laced with satisfaction. “You want this as much as I do, don’t you?”
He slips a finger inside you, and you arch your back, a moan escaping your lips. “Jake, oh my god…”
“That’s it,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “Let me hear you. I want to hear every sound you make., just for me.”
He adds another finger, thrusting them in and out with a rhythm that drives you wild. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. Your hands clutch the sheets, your body trembling with pleasure. “Jake, please…”
“Please what?” he asks, his breath hot against your ear. “Tell me what you want. I want to hear you say it.”
“I want you,” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper. “I need you.”
Jake's eyes darken with desire as he watches your every reaction, his fingers moving with expert precision inside you. He curls his fingers, hitting that sensitive spot that makes you see stars. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice low and rough. "Let me hear you."
Your hips buck against his hand, seeking more of his touch. His thumb continues its relentless circles on your clit, pressing down just enough to send jolts of pleasure through your body. "You're so tight," he groans, increasing the pace of his thrusts. "So perfect."
The heat between your legs intensifies, your wetness coating his fingers. "Jake, oh god," you moan, your head falling back against the pillows. "Don't stop."
He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "I won't stop until you cum all over my fingers," he promises, his voice a seductive growl. He adds a third finger, stretching you, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, your body teetering on the brink of ecstasy.
His movements become more urgent, his fingers plunging in and out of you with increasing speed. "Do you like that?" he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "Do you like how I make you feel?"
"Yes," you gasp, your body arching off the bed. "I love it, Jake. Please, don't stop."
He shifts slightly, his thumb pressing harder against your clit, rubbing in tight, fast circles. "You're so close," he murmurs, his voice dripping with desire. "I can feel you squeezing my fingers. Cum for me. Cum on my hand like a good girl."
Your entire body tenses, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. "Jake," you cry out, your voice breaking. "I'm gonna..."
"Cum for me, baby," he demands, his fingers thrusting deep inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over. "Let go. Show me how good I make you feel."
His words send you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a force that leaves you breathless. Your walls tighten around his fingers, your body convulsing with pleasure. "Fuck!” Your hands gripping the sheets as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over you.
He doesn't slow down, his fingers working you through your climax, drawing out every last bit of pleasure. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Just like that."
As the intensity of your orgasm begins to subside, he finally slows his movements, his fingers gently slipping out of you. You lay there, panting, your body still trembling from the aftershocks. Jake brings his fingers to his lips, licking them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. "You taste even better than I imagined," he says, his voice low and husky.
You reach for him, pulling him down into a deep, languid kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. "This is just the beginning," he whispers against your mouth, his hands caressing your sides. "I'm going to show you what it's like to be truly wanted. To be truly loved."
“Enjoying yourselves?”
A voice from the doorway causes your heart to stop and blood to run cold. Sitting up, you see Sunghoon standing there with a smirk on his face, his eyes flicking between you and Jake. “I thought I’d find you here.” His gaze settles on Jake’s possessive grip and then on your flushed, dishevelled form.
“Sunghoon-”
“You like competitions, right, Jake?” your boyfriend interrupts you, not giving you the chance to explain. “Why don’t we see who can really fuck her good?”
You physically gulp at the suggestion, knowing you're in for a long night, even with the entirety of your family downstairs...
______
perm taglist (idk if you guys want in on the drabbles but...): @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08 @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx @bambangan @dollyyun @iluvikeu @deobitifull
#enhypen smut#enha smut#jake smut#jaeyun smut#jake sim smut#aj writes#enha x reader#enhypen x reader#aj drabbles
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TUMBLR POST EDITOR WON'T LET ME TITLE THIS POST ANYMORE SO I GUESS THIS IS THE TITLE NOW. WEBBED SITE INNIT
So let's say you grew up in the nineties and that The Lion King was an important movie to you. Let's say that the character of Scar - snarling, ambitious, condescending, effeminate Scar - stirred feelings in you which you had no words for as a child. And then let's say, many years later, you're talking about it with a college friend, and you say something like, "oh man, I think Scar was some sort of gay awakening for me," and she fixes you with this level stare and says, "Scar was a fascist. What's the matter with you?"
The immediate feeling is not unlike missing a step: hang on, what's happening, what did I miss? You knew there were goose-stepping hyenas in "Be Prepared," but you didn't think it mattered that much. He's the bad guy, after all, and the movie's just pointing it out. Your friend says it's more than that: the visuals of the song are directly referencing the Nuremberg rallies. They're practically an homage to Riefenstahl. This was your sexual awakening? Is this why you're so into peaked caps and leather, then? Subliminal nazi kink, perhaps?
And then one of your other friends cuts in. "Hold up," he says, "let's think about what Scar actually did in the movie. He organized a group of racialized outcasts and led them against a predatory monarchy. Why are you so keen to defend their hereditary rule? Scar's the good guy here." The conversation immediately descends into a verbal slap fight about who the real bad guy is, whether Scar's regime was actually responsible for the ecological devastation of the Pride Lands, whether the hyenas actually count as "racialized" because James Earl Jones voiced Mufasa after all. Your Catholic friend starts saying some strange and frankly concerning shit about Natural Law. Someone brings The Lion King 2 into it. You leave the conversation feeling a little bit lost and a little bit anxious. What were we even talking about?
INTRODUCING: THE DITCH
There is a way of reading texts which I'm afraid is pervasive, which has as its most classical expression the smug obsession with trivia and minutiae you find in a certain vein of comic book fan. "Who was the first Green Lantern? What was his weakness? Do you even know the Green Lantern Oath?" It eschews the subjective in favor of definitively knowable fact. You can't argue with this guy that, say, Alan Scott shouldn't really count as the first Green Lantern because his whole deal is so radically different from the Hal Jordan/John Stewart/Guy Gardner Corps-era Lanterns, because this guy will simply say "but he's called Green Lantern. Says so right on the cover. Checkmate." This approach to reading a text is fundamentally 1) emotionally detached (there's a reason the joke goes, oh you like X band? name three of their songs - and not, which of their songs means the most to you? which of them came into your life at exactly the right moment to tell you exactly what you needed to hear just then?) and 2) defensive. It's a stance that is designed not to lose arguments. It says so right on the cover. Checkmate.
And then you get the guys who are like "well obviously Bruce Wayne could do far more as a billionaire to solve societal problems by using his tremendous wealth to address systemic issues instead of dressing up as a bat and punching mental patients in the head," and these guys have half a point but they're basically in the same ditch butting heads with the "well, actually" guys, and can we not simply extricate ourselves from the ditch entirely?
So, okay, let's return to our initial example. Scar is portrayed using Nazi iconography - the goose-stepping, the monumentality, the Nuremberg Lichtdom. He is also flamboyant and effete. He unifies and leads a group of downtrodden exiles to overthrow an absolute monarch. He's also a self-serving despot on whose rule Heaven Itself turns its back. You can't reconcile these things from within the ditch - or if you can, the attempt is likely to be ad-hoc supposition and duct tape.
Instead, let's ask ourselves what perspective The Lion King is coming from. What does it say is true about the world? What are its precepts, its axioms?
There is a natural hierarchical order to the world. This is just and righteous and the way of things, and attempts to overthrow this order will be punished severely by the world itself.
Fascism is what happens when evil men attempt to usurp this natural order with the aid of a group or groups of people who refuse to accept their place in the order.
There exists an alternative to defending and adhering to one's place in the natural order - it consists only of selfish spineless apathy.
Manliness is an essential quality of a just ruler. Unmanliness renders a person unfit for rule, and often resentful and dangerous as well.
And isn't that interesting, laid out like that? It renders the entire argument about the movie irrelevant (except for whatever your Catholic friend was on about, since his understanding of the world seems to line up with the above precepts weirdly well.) It's meaningless to argue about whether Scar was a secret hero or a fascist, when the movie doesn't understand fascism and has a damn-near alien view of what good and evil are.
There's always gonna be someone who, having read this far, wants to reply, "so, what? The Lion King is a bad movie and the people who made it were homophobes and also American monarchists, somehow? And anyone who likes it is also some sort of gay-bashing crypto-authoritarian?" To which I have to reply, man, c'mon, get out of the ditch. You're no good to anyone in there. Take my hand. I'm going to pull on three. One... two...
SO PHYREXIA [PAUSE FOR APPLAUSE, GROANS]
We're talking about everyone's favorite ichor-drooling surgery monsters again because there was a bit in my ~*~seminal~*~ essay Transformation, Horror, Eros, Phyrexia which seemed to give a number of readers quite a bit of trouble: namely, the idea that while Phyrexia is textually fascist, their aesthetic is incompatible with real-world fascism, and further, that this aesthetic incompatibility in some way outweighs the ways in which they act like a fascist nation in terms of how we think of them. I'll take responsibility here: I don't think that point is at all clear or well-argued in that essay. What I was trying to articulate was that the text of Magic: the Gathering very much wants Phyrexia to be supremely evil and dangerous fascists, because that makes for effective antagonists, but in the process of constructing that, it's accidentally encoded a whole bunch of fascinating presuppositions that end up working at cross-purposes with its apparent aim. That's... not that much clearer, is it? Hmm. Why don't I just show you what I mean?
Atraxa, Grand Unifier (art by Marta Nael)
In "Beneath Eyes Unblinking," one of the March of the Machine stories by K. Arsenault Rivera, there's a fascinating and I think revealing passage in which Atraxa (big-deal Phyrexianized angel and Elesh Norn's lieutenant) has a run-in with an art museum in New Capenna. The first thing I want to talk about is that, in this passage, Atraxa has no understanding of the concept of "beauty". A great deal of space in such a rushed storyline is devoted to her trying to puzzle out what beauty means and interrogating the minds of her recently-compleated Capennan aesthetes to try and understand it. In the end, she is unable to conceive of beauty except as "wrongness," as anathema.
So my first question is, why doesn't Atraxa have any idea of beauty? This is nonsense, right? We could point to a previous story, "A Garden of Flesh," by Lora Gray, in which Elesh Norn explicitly thinks in terms of beauty, but that's a little bit ditchbound, isn't it? The better argument is to simply look at Phyrexian bodies, at the Phyrexian landscape, all of which looks the way it does on purpose, all of which has been shaped in accordance with the very real aesthetic preferences of Phyrexians. How you could look at the Fair Basilica and not understand that Phyrexians most definitely have an idea of beauty, even if you personally disagree with it, is baffling. This is a lot like the canonical assertion that Phyrexians lack souls, which is both contradicted elsewhere in canon and essentially meaningless, given Magic's unwillingness or inability to articulate what a soul is in its setting, and as with this, it seems the goal is simply to dehumanize Phyrexians, to render them alien, even at the cost of incoherence or internal contradiction.
Atraxa's progress through the museum is fascinating. It evokes the 1937 Nazi exhibit on "degenerate art" in Munich, but not at all cleanly. The first exhibit, which is of representational art, she angrily destroys for being too individualistic (a point of dissonance with the European fascist movements of the 20th century, which formed in direct antagonism to communism.) The second exhibit, filled with abstract paintings and sculptures, she destroys even more angrily for having no conceivable use (this is much more in line with the Nazi idea of "degenerate art", so well done there.) The third exhibit is filled with war trophies and reconstructions from a failed Phyrexian invasion of Capenna many years prior, which she is angriest of all with (and fair enough, I suppose.) But then, after she's done completely trashing the place, she spots a number of angel statues on the cathedral across the plaza, and she goes apeshit. In a fugue of white-hot rage, she pulverizes the angel heads, and here is where I have to ask my second question:
Why angels? If you are trying to invoke fascist attitudes toward art, big statues of angels are precisely the wrong thing for your fascist analogues to hate. Fascists love monumental, heroic representations of superhuman perfection. It's practically their whole aesthetic deal. I understand that we're foreshadowing the imminent defeat of Phyrexia at the hands of legions of angels and a multiversal proliferation of angel juice, but that just leads to the exact same question: why angels? To the best of my knowledge, the Phyrexian weakness to New Capennan angel juice is something invented for this storyline. They have, after all, been happily compleating angels since 1997. We could talk about the in-universe justification for why Halo specifically is so potent, but I don't remember what that justification is, and also don't care. Let's not jump back in the ditch, please. The point is, someone decided that this time, Phyrexia would be defeated by an angelic host, and what does that mean? What is the text trying to say? What are its precepts and axioms?
Let me ask you a question: how many physically disabled angels are there in Magic: the Gathering? How about transsexual angels? How many angels are there, on all of the cards that have ever been printed for Magic: the Gathering, that are even just a bit ugly? Do you get it yet? Or do you need me to spell it out for you?
SPELLING IT OUT FOR YOU
There is a kind of body which is bad. It is bad because it has been significantly altered from its natural state, and it is bad because it is repellent to our aesthetic sensibilities.
The bad kind of body is contagious. It spreads through contact. Sometimes people we love are infected, and then they become the bad kind of body too.
There is a kind of body which is good. It is good because it is pleasing to our aesthetic sensibilities, and it is good because it is unaltered from its (super)natural state.
A happy ending is when all the good bodies destroy or drive into hiding all of the bad bodies. A happy ending is when the bad bodies of the people we love are forcibly returned to being the good kind of body.
Do you get it now?
ENDNOTES
It's worth noting that the ditch is very similar to the white American Evangelical hermeneutics of "the Bible says it. I believe it. That settles it," the defensive chapter-and-verse-or-it-didn't-happen approach to reading a text, what Fred Clark of slacktivist calls "concordance-ism". I don't think that's accidental. We stand underneath centuries of people reading the Bible very poorly - how could that not affect how we read things today? We are participants in history whether we like it or not.
I sincerely hope I haven't come across as condescending in this essay. Close reading is legitimately difficult! They teach college courses on this stuff! And while it is frustrating to have my close readings interrogated by people who... aren't doing that, like. I do get it. I find myself back in the ditch all the time. This stuff is hard. It is also, sorry, crucial if you intend to say something about a text that's worth saying.
I also hope I've communicated clearly here. Magic story is sufficiently incoherent that trying to develop a thesis about it often feels like trying to nail jello to the wall. If anyone has questions, please ask them! And thank you for reading. Next time, we'll probably do the new Eldraine set.
#phyrexia#not defining the ditch except by implication#thanks to all the very smart vorthoi on the flavor text discord server for helping me work through my thoughts on fascism and phyrexia#this is technically the march of the machine review also#or as much of one as i care to do
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Crying in the Courtyard - Theodore Nott
⋆。°✩Pairing : theodore nott x fem!reader
Warnings : fluff/light angst, happy ending, use of y/n
Summary : reader finds something out about her crush.
Song : Crying In the Chapel - Elvis Presley⋆。°✩
Word Count : 2,210
"So, did you find out? Is he seeing someone?" You gushed in a hushed tone, fisting your Slytherin friend's robes in your hand as you pulled her in, anxious to hear what she has to say.
"Y/n! Calm down, you're going to rip off my bloody buttons. But yes, I did hear something from Blaise." Pansy Parkinson, a friend you hadn't expected to make, replied with a sigh, her expression mirroring your own anxiety. You held your breath, waiting for her next words, knowing deep down that your suspicions were about to be confirmed.
"Y/n..." She trails off, looking for words to explain the news. You met her eyes, a small realization dawning that your suspicions had been correct.
"I'm sorry. There was talk in the air that Theodore had been seeing someone, and Blaise confirmed it for me," Pansy started, her voice tinged with sympathy as she glanced away, almost as if she was shielding her eyes from your reaction. "Says that he's crushing on a girl, and we believe it to be Daphne."
Your heart sank as her words registered, but another thought flashed in your mind. Blaise, with his charming smile and smooth demeanor, had always seemed to have an affinity for Daphne. You couldn't help but wonder if his confirmation of Theodore's crush was influenced by his own feelings for her.
"Greengrass? Doesn't Blaise like Daphne Greengrass?"
Your curiosity sparked, and a deep longing for an answer, an answer that may prove that there's still a chance that Nott could be yours.
"Yes, he does. And Daphne likes another Slytherin boy, like Theo. The two have been teased before, but they had previously mentioned that they're just friends. Maybe something had developed? Theodore also mentioned that the girl he liked may have liked him as well, and Blaise saw them laughing together after class. So, if we connect the information together.."
Your heart felt as though as it had been hollowed out as Pansy dropped the bombshell. Theodore Nott, the enigma that had captured your thoughts and dreams, was supposedly entangled in a relationship. You leaned against the hall wall, the cold stone offering little solace as you tried to process the news, mind full with a whirlwind of confusion and hurt.
"I'm truly sorry, Y/n," Pansy's voice softened, her usually sharp features softening with genuine sympathy. "I was really rooting for the two of you to become a thing."
Her eyes, normally filled with a mischievous glint, now held a hint of sadness as she spoke, as if she shared in your disappointment. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from Pansy, one that made you realize just how much she valued your friendship.
As Pansy's voice faded into the background, you found yourself lost in a sea of memories, each one a painful reminder of what could have been. You remembered the stolen glances and whispered conversations, the moments shared between the two of you that had ignited a spark of something more, moments where you couldn't take your eyes off one another.
Maybe it was all in your head? It was only you who felt that way. No, he had felt that way for a different girl, not just any girl, Daphne Greengrass. You could never compare, oh how foolish you felt.
"Y/n, are you alright?" She placed a hand on your shoulder, bringing you back from your thoughts. You looked up at her, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
"Yes, I'm ok. I expected this, so.." Your eyebrows furrowed in anger, anger at yourself for falling so stupidly.
Before Pansy could see you break down, you decided to leave. You feel so stupid for feeling like this, and you couldn't have someone else see you like this.
"I've got class so um, thank you Pansy." You stammered and started to walk away from the girl, leaving her confused and concerned.
As the day wore on, Y/n found herself struggling to maintain her composure. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes at the most inconvenient moments, like droplets of rain in a storm. In Potions class, she buried her face in her textbook, pretending to study as she blinked back the tears that blurred her vision. Tears all caused by the boy who sat at the back of the class, who she refused to even spare a glance at now. But the ache in her chest only intensified with each passing moment, a relentless reminder of the pain she could not escape.
So she stood up abruptly in class, her sudden movement capturing Snape's attention like a disturbance in the otherwise calm atmosphere.
"Do you need a moment, Ms. L/n?" his voice was cold and clipped, his gaze piercing as he scrutinized her.
Y/n met his gaze, her eyes watery but determined. She nodded silently, not daring to speak as she fought to control the storm of emotions raging within her. Snape's expression remained impassive, a faint hint of impatience flickering in his eyes as he waited for her response.
"Take all the time you need," he said curtly, his tone dismissive as he turned his attention back to his lesson.
"Thank you, professor." With a heavy heart, Y/n nodded once more, her resolve hardening in the face of his indifference. With one last glance at her teacher, she turned on her heel and strode out of the classroom, leaving behind a lingering sense of unease in her wake.
Theodore Nott, who had been witnessing the whole situation, was confused beyond belief. She was alright this breakfast, she had been chattering and smiling beautifully as usual with her friends. What made her so distressed? So distressed to the point she wouldn't even spare a glance in his way?
The boy raised his hand, ignoring the looks from his friends, and excused himself from class. Though Snape's questioning gaze unsettled him, he was free to go. And the moment that Snape had nodded, the boy was off running after the girl of his dreams.
Finally, she reached the courtyard, her sanctuary amidst the chaos of her emotions. Leaning against the cold stone wall, she allowed herself to surrender to her grief. Each soft sob echoed off the walls, a symphony of heartache that seemed to consume her entirely.
Lost in her misery, she didn't hear the approaching footsteps until it was too late. She hastily wiped away her tears, trying to compose herself as she heard someone round the corner.
"Y/n?"
She froze, all the blood draining from her face at the recognition of his voice.
From all the people that could have seen her at a state like this, why did it have to be him? She felt a weight of dread as his presence lingered from behind her.
She slowly turned around, looking at Theo through her red puffed-up eyes. His eyes softened and he kneeled down to sit beside her, his expression filled with concern and something else, something she couldn't quite decipher.
"Tesoro? Are you alright?" His voice was gentle, a soothing melody amidst the chaos of her thoughts.
Forcing a smile, she nodded weakly, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm fine, Theodore. Just... just a bit tired. It's been a bad day."
But he wasn't fooled by her facade. Stepping closer, he tilted his head at the sight of how broken-hearted you looked, and in his own chest, he felt a pang of pain. "You don't have to pretend with me, Y/n. I can see that something's wrong."
The vulnerability in his eyes shattered the last of her resolve, and she broke down before him, the truth tumbling from her lips in a rush of emotion. "The boy I like... he doesn't like me back," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared down at her hands, unable to meet Theodore's gaze.
The pang in Theodore's heart deepened, now with a mix of jealousy and seething anger. Who would make such a warm and bella ragazza, cry like this?
"Well, that's his loss," Theodore said, his tone casual yet tinged with a hint of something deeper. "Because if it were up to me, I'd never let someone as incredible as you slip through my fingers."
Y/n's eyes widened in astonishment, her heart skipping a beat at his words. "Theodore..." she began, her voice barely a whisper.
Y/n couldn't help but glance at him, a mixture of confusion and curiosity in her eyes. "You think so?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Nott leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over her ear as he whispered, "Of course. Anyone who can't see how incredible you are doesn't deserve you."
He pulled away to look into her eyes, bringing his hand up to wipe away the stubborn tear that fell from her eye.
"Do you remember that time when I was feeling so lost and alone?" he began, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on her cheek. "I tried to push you away, but you refused to leave my side. You stayed with me, even when I didn't deserve it. You're such a kind and loving soul, your soul made mine feel love again like it had never felt before."
Before she could dwell on the thought, He continued as he cupped her face with his hand, his tone growing more teasing with each word. "And besides, if this boy doesn't appreciate you, then he's clearly not worth your time," he declared, a mischievous glint dancing in his stormy eyes. "I mean, he must be pretty stupid to let someone like you cry tears of heartbreak. Che idiota è quel ragazzo."
Y/n couldn't help but laugh at his playful jab, the tension between them easing as she felt the weight of Theodore's words lift from her shoulders. In that moment, surrounded by his warmth and the teasing sparkle in his eyes, she dared to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, he had loved her back.
"There it is, that beautiful smile," Theo remarked, his heart swelling at the sight of her radiant expression. He couldn't help but feel a surge of affection as he watched the way her cheeks popped out when she laughed, prompting him to playfully pinch one with his hand as he joined in her laughter.
But as the symphony of their laughter faded into a comfortable silence, Theodore found himself unable to tear his gaze away from hers. His eyes wandered down to her lips, drawn like a magnet to their soft curve, and he felt a familiar warmth spreading through him, igniting a longing he couldn't ignore.
In that lingering moment of silent connection, Theodore's heart pounded in his chest, his breath catching as he felt an irresistible pull towards her. Without a second thought, he leaned in closer, his lips gently brushing against hers in a tender, hesitant kiss.
Time seemed to stand still as the world fell away around them, leaving only the sensation of her lips against his, sending sparks of electricity coursing through his veins. In that stolen moment, all doubts and fears melted away, replaced by an overwhelming rush of emotion as Theodore finally dared to seize the opportunity he had longed for.
And as he deepened the kiss, his fingers tangling in her hair, Theodore knew with absolute certainty that he had found where he belonged – in the embrace of the one who had captured his heart from the very beginning.
"Wait wait!" Y/n mumbled against his lips, pulling away with a concerned look upon her face. He looked up at her in regret, a fear that the kiss didn't feel the same for her made him gulp.
"What about Daphne?"
The regret on his face morphed into confusion.
"What about.. Daphne?" He repeated.
"Yeah, aren't you guys like a thing?" She hesitated, searching for answers in his eyes as she furrowed her eyebrows and wrapped her arms around herself uncomfortably.
"What? Daphne likes Blaise."
"Daphne likes Blaise." She repeated, a small smile forming upon her face at the realization.
"Wait, how about you? Who's the boy you said that didn't like you back?"
Y/n laughed out at the realization, ignoring Theo's confused face which made her laugh even more. Butterflies danced in her stomach at the feeling of relief, the joy she felt making her heart beat quickly.
"You! Nott, you were the boy who didn't like me back! Blaise told Pansy that you and Daphne were a thing!" She watched his face for a reaction, and at first he was still confused, but as he realized, his mouth was agape as he said "Ah."
The two soon shared their laughter again, Theo apologizing for the tears he had accidentally made her cry, "All along I was the fool who made you cry," he admitted, his tone soft yet tinged with regret. "I'm sorry, il mio tesoro, if only I had known. How can I make it up to you?"
A playful smirk danced on his lips as he pulled her in closer, his gaze drifting down to her grinning lips.
"I don't know if you can ever make it up to me, Nott. You hurt me pretty bad." She playfully said, wiping away her already dried tears. "Well actually maybe, you can start by kissing me again, you fool."
With a chuckle, Theodore leaned in, capturing her lips in a sweet and passionate kiss, knowing in that moment that he had finally found where he belonged – in the arms of the one who had stood by him through tears and laughter, through every trial and triumph.
⋆。°✩
Hi! This is my first ever upload on tumblr, so it may not be perfect but hey who cares I got inspired by a personal experience! If you notice any grammatical mistakes, no you didn't. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! xx
[my masterlist⋆。°✩]
#theo nott#theodore nott x reader#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys#theodore nott x you#theodore nott imagine#theo nott imagine#theodore nott#fanfiction#fluff#light angst#theodore nott oneshot#theo nott x y/n#slytherin#harry potter#oneshot
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Hi girl how are you??
✨Could you do one where reader have a crush on vi and she's watching vi workout and can't stop looking at her, then vi notice and question reader about it idk nsfw or not do whatever you want ✨
˖⋆᭝ᨳ՟⋆˙ workout - daily click
cw: suggestive , 1.2k wc , semi (?) proofread
note: hi ml! i'm good, tysm! hru? i loved writing this
“i just don't get it! ‘don’t run in swinging every time, vi, it never works, vi’ well guess what caitlyn, all those guys are out of your way now! you should be thanking me!” the pink-haired girl's complaints about her work partner seemed to be never ending nowadays. you didn't mind listening though, especially when all you had to do was sit off to the side and out of her way while she worked out. you had found a comfortable spot on top of a crate, legs spread out either side and decided it was the perfect spot to watch her fight the automatic punching machine, each punch and duck more aggressive than the last in a futile attempt to rid herself of the anger cait had caused.
“that sucks, i’m sorry vi. caitlyn just worries, i do too.” you attempted to comfort. In reality, you weren’t really paying attention to what vi was saying, but rather what she was doing. the way her arms flexed with each hit and how sweat glistened down the curve between-
“helloooo? are you even listening to me right now?” vi interrupts your perverted fantasy train of thought. at some point she had stopped boxing and was suddenly standing right in front of you, in between your legs, waving a wrapped and gloved hand in front of your face to try and gain your attention.
shame floods through you at the realization she might have caught you staring. your face heats up and your eyes widen as you try to figure out a way to save yourself further embarrassment.
“yes, yes! of course i am! you were talking about how caitlyn doesn't want you to go in swinging anymore and how upset you were about it.” perfect.
“that was five minutes ago. are you feeling alright?” vi asks, being quick to remove one of the bright red boxing gloves and bring her bandaged (as well as slightly bloody) hand up to your forehead while the other one rests on your thigh. fuck! you're quick to make a move to swat both her hands away, anxious about wether or not she'll be able to see that you're heating up not because of illness but moreover because of how her hand feels incredibly warm against your freezing thigh and just how attractive she looks working out.
“vi, i'm fine! seriously, don't worry about it. i guess i just zoned out for a second. what were you saying? i’ll pay attention this time!” you guarantee
she pauses, staring at you and analyzing your face for what feels like eternity, clearly unbelieving of your lie but not wanting to push it.
“and you’re sure you feel okay?” she double checks, concern etched on her features. she’s ignored your previous pleas, putting both of her hands on either thigh to try and get a closer look at you, going up on her tippy toes just slightly. the way her nose crinkles up and how she bites her lip in worry you swear almost sends you to another dimension.
“yes, i promise. now get back to working on your core or something!” you laugh, almost certain that this will finally get her back to being busy and punching the shit out of the machine again, but she doesn't move. Not her hands nor the relentless gaze she’s been keeping on you.
silence overtakes the two of you and confusion lingers in the back of your mind. why wasn't she moving? You had already told her you were good and not feeling sickly. did she not believe you? did she see right through you? now you’re the one leaning in slightly, testing the waters, seeing where it’ll go. whether or not she’ll lean in too. She does almost immediately.
you do a quick short inhale, “aren't you gonna go back to fighting?” it barely comes out as a whisper, but she hears you. If you moved just a couple centimeters more, your lips would be touching hers. You find Its becoming increasingly difficult not to think about.
“no.” she replies simply, tone matching yours.
“no?” you question, tilting your head to the side and now confused on where the conversation is going.
“no. not until you tell me what the hell is up with you!” she says the last part louder, squeezing your thighs between your hands but not to the point it would hurt you.
“oh my God-” you sigh, throwing your head back for only a moment while you think carefully about the next words that you’ll say. ultimately deciding that vi doesn't have to have the power here, and that frankly, you were quite curious to how she would react if you simply admitted to gawking at her.
you lean forward again, closer than ever and so quickly she doesn't even notice until you start talking. you swear she looks down at your lips, even if only for a split second.
“do you even understand how hot you look right now?” you ask lowly, playing it cool with a straight but teasing expression. inside, however, it feels like you’re about to burst into flames. Her expression changes from a surprised one to what looks like a slight smirk.
“oh? do i?”
“mhm” is all you manage to muster, anxiety slowly creeping over you at her limited reaction.
she leans in closer, your lips only a centimeter apart. “what are you gonna do about it?” her hands squeeze your thighs even tight and you can tell that if she keeps it up, it’s going to leave a mark. not that you would really mind.
you exhale slowly, moving your hands from gripping the crate up her arms and around the back of her shoulders to her neck, gently playing with the bright hair at the back. She has to look up at you to meet your eyes and she swears she could die in that moment. you look like absolute heaven. biting your cheek in concentration and she has to resist letting out a groan, not even wanting to think about how ashamed she is with the current state of her boxers when you haven't even kissed yet.
why exactly haven't you kissed her yet?
“how about-” instead of letting you finish, vi takes matters into her own hands. closing the gap between the two of you and clashing teeth instantly. you reach further up and pull on her hair slightly, which does make her groan and you’re eager to hear more of those noises coming from her. she gently swipes your bottom lip, asking for permission which you grant, and instantly your tongues are fighting for dominance. it's messy, you’re pretty sure you can feel a bit of mixed spit dribble down your chin but you couldn't care less in this moment when she feels this soft and absolutely magical.
having to pull away to get air dragged the two of you back down to earth. A string of saliva connected the two of you that the girl in front of you ridded of by swiping her thumb across your lips, not without taking her time. heavy pants were the only noise in the gym as the two of you stared intently at each other.
vi leans into that sweet spot between your shoulder and neck, nipping and biting at the area before pulling away and suggesting exactly what you were thinking,
“should we go to my room?”
#taintedpearls 𐙚#aria writes 𝜗𝜚#❦⋆ reqs#vi#vi arcane#vi arcane x reader#violet x reader#vi smut#vi x reader#violet arcane#violet arcane x reader#arcane x reader#ellie williams
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Sleeping Bag (Joel Miller x Reader)
Word count: 1.7K
Summary: you can’t get comfortable in your sleeping bag, so joel invites you into his
Tags: age gap (mostly implied), anxiety, fluff, protective/caring!joel, comfort, cuddling, sharing a sleeping bag (instead of the one bed trope lol), kissing (forehead and lips), it’s just cute short and fun
A/N: simple and quick, inspired by ep 4 when joel and ellie were in sleeping bags in the woods, but no explicit spoilers. I’ve been wanting to write for joel since episode one and finally got an idea. pretty sure more will be coming soon…
TLOU masterlist + main masterlist
After sleeping in a bed in the QZ’s for years, suddenly trying to get comfortable in a sleeping bag on the ground was proving difficult for you.
What a spoiled thought to have, right? Well, it wasn’t just that. You were out in the open woods. There could be infected anywhere. They could come for you any second. How could you close your eyes and rest peacefully knowing you were no longer behind the barrier walls?
Ellie was already asleep, you could hear her light snores. Your back was facing him, but you assumed Joel was asleep as well given his stillness. You rolled from your side to your back and sighed.
You had to sleep. You should’ve been tired. You and Joel had taken turns driving, although since you didn’t have much driving experience Joel became concerned when you began to struggle with the gear shift and mixed up the pedals (it only happened once but he couldn’t let it go). Joel had grown exhausted and didn’t want to stress you out by making you drive without him as backup/support, so you all stopped for the night. He was thoughtful like that; even if he was a bit grouchy sometimes.
You turned from your back to your other side, eyes landing on Joel. He was facing you, eyes closed, breathing steadily. The older man actually seemed to be at peace. He only looked like that when he was asleep. The moment he woke up, you knew he’d have that slight pout and furrow of his brows that you’d become accustomed to.
If Joel caught you staring, you wondered what he’d say. You could never pinpoint the way he viewed you. Friend? Daughter? Burden? You’d be way more okay with the previous two as long as it wasn’t the third. Although if you were being honest with yourself, you hoped it was none of the above.
Despite his age and his tough nature, you had a thing for Joel. Like, a thing. Feelings, attraction, affection—whatever you wanted to call it. Definitely a crush. Love? Maybe. It was a little bit confusing, but nothing in this life was simple.
Joel had taken you under his wing a while back and looked after you. He was incredibly protective and even if he wasn’t the best with expressing himself, Joel cared for you. He made you feel safe. He was there for you when you had no one else.
You rolled to your other side. Then back. Simply put, tossing and turning. The thought that you were being loud don’t even cross your mind until—
“What are you doing?” Joel’s voice caught your attention.
You let out a sigh, feeling bad that you’d woken the man up. You turned back to face him. “I can’t sleep,” you confessed.
“I can tell,” he murmured. “Do you plan on rolling around all night?”
You frowned to yourself. “I'm sorry.”
Joel exhaled softly and even in the dark, you could see the sympathy in those deep brown eyes of his. You hadn’t realized that subconsciously, you’d moved closer to him.
“It’s okay.” He had a soft spot for you, even though he’d probably deny it.
“I’ll try and be… still, I guess.” You knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep. “Just go back to sleep, I’ll be fine.” That was a lie.
“No,” he decided after a moment. You furrowed your brows. “You need sleep too.”
“I can’t get comfortable,” you replied. You let a few seconds pass before adding, “…and I’m too anxious.”
“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” Joel promised like if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that.
It meant a lot, it really did. But you huffed out a humorless laugh and went to a worse case scenario. “You’re all the way over there. If an infected wanted to get me, it could. Before you could stop it.”
Joel was quiet for a few beats. You hadn’t meant to insult him, but it was true. It didn’t matter how safe you felt with him there. They were faster than him. Faster than anyone.
“So then come over here,” Joel offered, voice still thick with sleep. It sounded incredibly enticing.
The image of you crawling into his sleeping bag crossed your mind faster than you could stop it. You had to do a double take. “Like… scoot over there?” you tried to clarify inconspicuously.
“If you’re against sharing with me.”
So, he had meant what you’d hoped for. Your heart skipped a little beat and you swallowed.
“I’m not.”
All Joel did was hum. You unzipped your sleeping bag and left the warmth. Joel was ready and waiting when you moved over to him, enveloping you into the safety of his sleeping bag and heavy arms. You wiggled around a little bit until you got comfortable. For the first time since you’d left the QZ, it didn’t take long.
“Thank you,” you mumbled softly, trying to keep your breathing calm. Being so close to Joel was causing you to become less focused on sleep and more focused on the way his breath sounded so close to your ear.
“Mmhhmm,” he hummed from deep in his throat with closed lips. You thought it was going to be left at that, but then you heard his gruff voice. “I know it’s been hard on you.” You opened your mouth to deny it, but he continued. “Even if you’re too stubborn to admit it beyond makin’ snarky comments.”
You took in a breath. He got you on that one, and you both knew it. “Since when do you know me this well?”
“Since always,” Joel pointed out. “You’re easy to read.”
“For you maybe.”
“Yeah, for me,” he agreed, sounding pleased with himself. Joel was silent for a long moment, listening to the soft rustle of your body as you gazed around your surroundings. The grass, the trees, the darkness… “I’m sorry for being so selfish.”
The sudden apology confused you. “What?”
“You’ve never been outside of the QZ before, and for good reason,” Joel started. “It’s a scary world out here and I shouldn’t have subjected you to it. I shouldn’t have brought you along.”
His voice was full of guilt that seemed to come out of nowhere, but given all he had to say you suspected he’d been carrying it since you left.
“I wanted to come with you,” you assured him. You never second guessed that decision despite everything that had happened so far. “Where is this coming from?”
“You’re scared and it’s my fault.” You could hear the deep frown in his voice.
“You’re the reason I feel safe right now,” you said without a second thought. It was true. You wanted him to know that. There was something you wanted to know too, now, and you couldn’t help but ask. “Do you not want me here?”
“I do,” Joel confessed. “That’s why I’m selfish.” There was a pause but you didn’t dare speak. “I didn’t want to be away from you.”
A wave of realization crashed over you.
You wiggled around, turning until you were facing him. You offered him a soft, delicate smile that you hoped he could see despite the dark.
“It almost sounds like you care about me. A lot,” you couldn’t help but tease.
“You know I care about you,” Joel stated, like it was the most obvious thing. Maybe he’d tried to cover it up in the past, but someone would have to be blind to not see that you meant something to Joel.
“I care about you too,” you admitted with much more ease. He knew, though.
Joel, in an uncharacteristically soft gesture, pressed a kiss to your forehead. You could hardly believe it. But it felt nice. You liked the affection. And coming from someone like Joel who never let their guard down, it was significant enough to leave you speechless.
“It’s gonna be daylight soon,” he muttered. “You should try and get some sleep.”
“Yeah, okay,” you agreed with a slight nod. “Just… one more thing.” It took everything you had to be brave enough to say that, and to do what you were going to do next.
There was basically no space between the two of you, but you managed to bring your hand up to Joel’s face and cup his jaw. You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
Joel didn’t hesitate to kiss you back. He took charge, but it wasn’t surprising. He had a dominating presence and was rough around the edges, you didn’t think he’d be delicate with you.
Not that you minded.
His lips moved against yours, almost in a frenzy. Like he was scared you’d slip away from him. It was so needy, so passionate. You wished you would’ve done this much, much sooner
Joel found the willpower to break away from the kiss before you. You would’ve happily lost consciousness in order to kiss him for just a few more moments. But then you’d worry him, and you hated to see Joel worry.
But you didn’t see worry when you looked into his eyes. You saw a hint of wonder. You were both staring into a new beginning as you gazed upon one another. He was panting a little, both of your soft breaths intertwining.
“You need sleep,” he reminded you.
Of course he still couldn’t drop the protector role. He wasn’t wrong about that, either. You smiled to yourself, the feel of his lips still ghosting yours despite the distance. You twisted in the sleeping bag without a word, knowing that you’d never be able to sleep facing Joel. You’d probably be too busy staring at him…
So yeah, you laid with your back to his chest and closed your eyes. His arms held you tight against his firm body. Not only providing warmth, but security as well.
“Goodnight,” Joel mumbled to you, already dozing back off. You could hear the soft smile in his voice despite the tiredness. It seemed easier for him to sleep wherever, although you liked to think you were bringing him some kind of comfort as well. With the way he held you against him it wouldn’t be an unrealistic thought.
“Goodnight, Joel,” you replied softly, finally able to relax your breathing. The feel of Joel’s body pressed against you, his strong arms around you—it felt like a dream. Safe and sound, away from the dangers that lie not far off. And soon enough, you were finally able to close your eyes and fall into a peaceful sleep.
#quin-ns writing#joel miller x reader#joel miller#the last of us#pedro pascal#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel x reader#the last of us spoilers#joel miller x y/n#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#ellie williams
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Not your letter
Synopsis: Gojo Satoru wouldn't call himself a very anxious man. But now as he hears cries every night, he can't help but worry- about his darling wife.
Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.
Pairing: Gojo x reader, 3300 words
Series masterlist
Contains: arranged marriage, generational trauma, jujutsu clans and higher ups
I'm sooo tired, but I hope you enjoy! I'm really happy you all seem so sincerely to enjoy it. Like always your comments make my day <333
Gojo Satoru liked spending money far too much.
After the last few days, this became clear very quickly. Yes, he was rich. But the way things were going this week, probably not for long.
He probably wouldn't even read every book that was on the bedside table.
Every morning he was awake before you and explored the town the two of you visited. When you were awake he took you out of the little charming hotel and showed you what he discovered.
You wouldn't see any problem in it if he didn't always had his credit card ready, the moment you looked at something.
And the two of you didn't need that many souvenirs either. But at the same time, it was hard for you to tell him not to use his money.
And now, too. As you walked through the small village. You knew what was coming when you passed a small café.
His eyes grew wide behind his sunglasses and a smile stole itself onto his face.
"Would you fancy something sweet?"
Not really. But he smiled in a way that made you feel sorry for taking the wind out of his sails.
So naturally, you left with three bags of sweet pastries.
Your mother would wring your neck. You could hear her lessons. 'You should bake something for your husband instead of letting him buy it!
"Don't you want something?"
Satoru looked at you with a bitten cupcake in his hand and some icing on his cheek. At the same time, he held out a new cupcake to you.
Of course, you didn't just take it because of his smile.
"Thank you." carefully you took a bite, trying to not look messy while you eat.
As you looked over to Satoru, you saw how he swallowed the rest of the cupcake in one go. You couldn't help but smile as you saw him chew way too much at the same time.
"Satoru, you have no manners." It was refreshing.
He gasped. "Am I now not even allowed to eat normally in front of my wife? What has the world come to?" Dramatically he held onto his chest.
His eyes shut and head tilted a bit back, he expressed his 'hurt' so playfully you couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh Satoru, if that's how you eat normally, I'm really concerned for your stomach."
As you saw how shooked he looked at you, you regretted saying anything. But then he grinned at you and leaned a bit forward.
"Did I just see my darling wife laugh?"
"It's not like I never laugh." you muttered as you started to eat again, hiding your embarrassment behind the pink, sprinkled, icing of the cupcake.
"Well, never before in front of me."
"Nonsense." you shook your head, while making sure your face was clean.
"It's true." he took another cupcake. "You should do it more."
The warmth that shot into your face was now a regular visitor. Something had changed. His presence made you jumpy, your heart was suddenly working overtime.
And your head. Oh, your head.
The thoughts that crept into it became more and more jumbled. Every time your looks crossed paths you couldn't help but spiral in a trail of thoughts, that made you feel dizzy.
You were truly sick. But it didn't feel bad.
A scream shattered the relaxed atmosphere. Your stomach turned when you saw a woman with a baby behind Satoru.
The baby was thrashing around, his voice continuing to tear the air and his cheeks red from the water running down.
The baby clutched the woman's hand, crying desperately.
"Are you okay?"
You quickly turned your head away to hide the rising panic. "Yes, I'm just tired."
His look spoke volumes. Always being tired was probably not the best sign.
"Then let's go back." He stood up, the food tucked away carefully.
"It's alright. It's not too bad."
He shook his head. "You look like I'm forcing you to go out everytime. I don't want that."
Defeated, you also stood up slowly and trotted behind him. You really wanted to enjoy your trip away, and get to know Satoru. But the words of the higher-ups were like a pest, constantly reminding you that your duty wasn't getting to know him.
It was having a heir.
"I'm sorry." your voice was hoarse, embarrassingly quiet. "I'm always in the way."
He laughed, while slowing down, to adjust to your speed. "What do you mean?"
"I'm always breaking of our time." you shook your head. "We barely get to do something."
"Oh please." he chuckled. "We have still plenty of time. We are just three days away. And it's not a problem, I still get to know you."
He looked at you again, his sunglasses barely covering his skylike eyes. "And I know." He smiled at you. "That you are not sleeping very well. Or that you are very exhausted. Maybe both."
"Am I right?"
He was. You were sleeping terrible. Even though the reading helped with sleeping in, the nightmares didn't disappear.
The constant thoughts about your 'duties' were kept alive through them. You wished you could just forget all of these things. Satoru seemed like he could.
You just shrugged.
"Just try to sleep when we are back." Slowly, very hesitant, did his hand engulf yours. His hand was warm. So, so warm.
"I have planned something for later. And I want you to be able to enjoy it."
You were wrong. Gojo Satoru didn't like spending money too much. He just enjoyed spoiling you far too much.
~~
"So how do you like your little 'rebellion'?"
The dark surrounding you, engulfed your mother almost whole as she sat there in her chair. Her arms crossed like chains, heavy, ready to arrest you.
"It's not like that-"
"Yeah, yeah." she waved her hand, wiping your words away. "That's what they always say."
Her leg twitched, but her face remained a mask. She sat unimpressed on her throne, looking at you like you stole candy. "How did you imagine all of this?"
She crossed her legs, it's twitching being held down like a child. "What did you think will happen after all of this?"
You looked at her, your mouth thin as a line. Your tongue felt like it was chained down. Heavy, like a boulder.
"Perhaps…" She tilted her head. "Running away together?"
'Stop.' you wanted to say, no scream. 'Stop speaking.'
"Maybe a romance where he takes you in his arms? Just leaving jujutsu society together behind?"
Your body felt light and so so heavy at the same time. Dizziness overtook you mind, making your vision blurry.
"No Clans and no responsibilities. Like Paris and Helen." she laughed loudly, her voice made you shiver.
"That would never happen. You know that. You are no Helen. Helen was a beautiful, desired and foolish woman. She didn't consider her people."
She stood up, while you lost your balance, she was suddenly towering above you, looking down with this well-known expression.
"And Gojo is no Paris. As if he would start a war for you. This boy has no courage. That's just selfish to wish." she shook her head again.
"Stop mother." your throat was burning. "This is pointless. Satoru is not like that. Satoru-"
Her eyes narrowing like a predator ready to pierce her prey. "I'm just reminding you to not do something foolish. And after your recent behavior that seems rather needed."
Your hands were shaking, sweating. Your breath was heavy and your body seemed paralyzed. You felt like a kid again. Crawling to your mother crying.
'I don't want to marry someone I don't know!' you hiccuped, chocking on your own tears a bit. 'I don't want-'
You still felt the burning sting on your cheek. Still felt her unforgiving stare as she looked at you.
'You don't have to want. You have to fulfill your duty. And that's bringing connections to your clan.' she didn't scream. No she was in control of herself what made it so much worse.
"So stop whining."
You only saw darkness. Your body jolted uncontrollably, it felt like being pushed down into the darkness.
Like you were dying.
"Enjoy your time. And use it." She waved and-
Your consciousness came crawling back, while you were being shaken awake. You felt cold, unbearable so. The sweat on you rather sticky.
It was a nightmare.
"Everything is alright."
You felt heavy, eyes fighting to open. But in the end they lost. You were so tired. Every ounce of sleep was a fight with your conscience. It was almost… Unnatural.
Warm arms embraced you, pulling your limp, cold, and heavy feeling body towards their warmth.
"I'm here now."
You knew it was him. It was the only logical explanation. But it felt so surreal. Feeling his strength and reassurance so close.
His grip on you was not forceful. No, it was so soft you couldn't help but start slipping into unconsciousness again.
"I'm sorry."
You didn't know why you apologized. It just felt right.
~~
"How late is it?" you paced through the room, while Satoru layed lazily in the bed, yawning.
"Don't know. It's not that important." as he sat up his silver white, no snow white hair was sticking up in all directions. It was so messy, it was endearing. Which is obviously just a fact-
"I thought you had something planned? Why didn't you wake me up?" you gathered new things to wear, since you obviously had to take a shower.
"You were sleeping so peaceful." he shook his head like it was obvious. "That was the first time I saw you smile in your sleep."
You stop for a second, cheeks feeling like they were on fire. "You watch me sleep?" you joked, while you pretended to look for something in your suitcase.
"No! I-, that's not what I-, I don't…" he stopped and you couldn't help but chuckle at him. It felt so crazy to have him stutter. You looked at him over your shoulder, hoping to have cooled down your face.
As he saw you holding in a laughter, his panicked look fell.
"Oh, ha ha." he raised an eyebrow.
"What did you plan? Can we still do it?" You didn't want to cancel his plans. Not Again. Not because of you.
He scratched his the back of his neck while thinking a bit. "Do you know the time?"
"It's…" you search for the clock in the bath. "8:46 PM? How long was I out??"
He chuckled while murmuring something to himself. You wanted to ask but also didn't.
"Well it is a bit late. Don't know if you even want to-"
A long, loud growl from your stomach interrupted him. Silence set in while he was just looking at you. The warmth in your face returning.
And then he laughed. "Well I guess that answers my question. Can't let my sweet wife starve."
"Sure, Satoru." you muttered as you chuckled a bit too. "Because you are of course not hungry at all after being here the whole day."
He grinned crookedly, while pulling the blanket away and also standing up. "Let's just make ourselves ready and then go."
You nodded and gathered what you found for yourself. Standing up from the ground and gripping the door of the bath, you stopped as he spoke again.
"But if it's too much please say so right away. I don't want you to suffer through anything."
Hands sweating again, you smiled at him. "I will." Then you got ready.
~
Satoru was nervous as fuck.
It still felt so unreal. Having you in his arms, you holding so desperately onto him, but slowly over time relaxing.
You cried. During your sleep.
It wasn't a one time thing. You cried almost every night. It was very silent, almost not audible, but he could hear it.
And see it.
He wanted to help you, but didn't know if he overstepped a silent boundary. A boundary so carefully layed out the last days.
But today was different. You spoke. Saying something like 'Stop mother'.
And you whispered his name.
He didn't know why. Didn't know if you had a nightmare where he was a part of, but he felt like he had to help you. Like you called for him.
He didn't watch you sleep. He listened to you sleep. To your cries.
~
"Where are we going?" you looked around. This was not a street you two had explored before and it was dark enough that you couldn't recognize even if you did know it.
"It's a surprise. Guess you have to wait." he grinned as he went sternly, while still making sure you two were going next to each other.
"You are so unfair sometimes." you shook your head. "Can't believe I married you."
"Oh please." he grinned back at you, playing into your dramatics. "As if you don't love surprises."
"Oh, Satoru." you deadpanned at him. "I hate them."
For two seconds you just stopped and looked at each other. But then you started laughing at his nervous expression.
"I'm joking, sorry. But you should have seen your face!"
He chuckled lightly, while looking around. Then he grinned back at you. "Well I hope you were joking, because here it is!"
You looked around but only saw a fancy restaurant. After looking for any small places you usually had take out, it dawned on you that the restaurant was the place he wanted to go.
"Oh Satoru…" you looked at the old, but very preserved, Restaurant in front of you. The letters on top of it almost shy, not being big and very eye catching, but very elegant. It spelled Sato's Kitchen.
"If you don't like it, we can always go back-"
"It's not like I don't like it!" you interrupted him, before he could make false conclusions. "It's just… This was very expensive, was it not?"
"Why talk about money? Let's just have a nice evening." he smiled and you knew it was expensive. Defeated you sighed.
"Okay. But you have to stop spending so much money-"
"Alright, let's go!"
He just took your hand and pulled you softly behind him.
~
It was very late. So it wasn't so surprising that your reservation was already long gone. But as you stood there behind Saturo while he tried to get a table for you, you felt bad.
It was almost laughable how naiv you were.
Dragging him out at these hours just to be told that they didn't have any tables left and we should come back tomorrow.
"Is there really no way-"
"I'm sorry good sir, but we are out. We can rearrange your reservation for tomorrow."
They were very kind for that. But you still felt bad.
"That wouldn't be so bad, would it Satoru?"
He nodded, obviously a bit frustrated as he gave his information to make the reservation or furthermore rearrange it.
"Yeah, that's alright." he muttered to the waiter. After making sure everything was alright, yoi two left shortly.
It was a bit embarrassing. Showing up almost an hour and half late at such a desired restaurant. Another reason you felt bad.
"I'm so so-"
"Well we can still do it tomorrow." Satoru smiled. Smiled so softly at you that you felt like crying. It made you feel so stupid, so unstable.
"Yeah." you almost chocked at the word.
He started going again, silently trying to get you to walk ahain. Silently walking beside him, you tried to find the light words you just had said so easily. But there were none.
"Well we can still have take out." he walked closer than before. Not too close, just a bit closer. "If that's alright for you?"
You chuckle a bit, trying to relax. "Of course. That sounds lovely."
The night was beautiful. The moon was already high up and you could see countless of stars here. In Tokyo you could only rarely see the stars. It was comforting.
The silence between you wasn't awkward anymore. Maybe you two did start to get to know each other in a way. Even though Satoru was still a mystery to you most of the time.
It just was comfortable as a whole.
Going together to your favorite ramen shop. Eating in silence and slowly walking back.
It must be really late. But Satoru did bring the bag of the sweet pastries. And as you were walking back to your hotel, he did eat from them.
You couldn't help but watch him. It was cute really. How he enjoyed it so much. And a small smile made it's way onto your face.
"Did you Always like sweets this much?"
Satoru looks at you and thinks. A cupcake still in his mouth, he tries chewing faster to give you your answer.
"Well, I think I did." he coughs as his mouth was empty. "When I was a kid I wasn't allowed to eat anything sweet or unhealthy because of those obsessive higher ups. Said it would make my powers weaker, to keep me away from them."
He took another big bite after saying that and smiled at you as he chewed.
"Well," he was grinning like an idiot after he swallowed. "After I started eating sweets I didn't get weaker. In fact quite the opposite!" He laughed.
You admired him, as he took another bite. That he could just call them obsessive and wipe it away. You wished you could not care.
And as he took his last bite, you looked at the remaining cupcakes and wondered. Could you try making them for him? Would he like them?
It was too late to think anymore, after you got home you just got ready for bed and layed down while Satoru was in the bathroom.
But as you wanted to close your eyes, this uneasiness from before seemed like it was back again. You began to feel cold and wrapped yourself tighter in the blanket.
Satoru came out of the bathroom looking at you, like he was fighting with himself.
And in a moment of weakness and exhaustion you let yourself say the words you normally would only think.
"Do you want to sleep in the bed?"
He just looked at you, the darkness around you made it hard to see his expression. Also your vision started to get blurry because of your tiredness.
"If you don't mind.".
You yawned as your eyes fell close. "You helped…" you mumbled and didn't fight your exhaustion anymore.
And as you felt his warm arms around you, again you couldn't help but smile.
~
Satoru didn't want to wake you up, but he also wanted to do his daily routine round to get you and himself breakfast. Tough decision.
Before all of this he would have never gotten up earlier than he had too. But here with you it was different. So so different.
And he didn't want to let you go. But in the end he did get up and got ready to leave for his round.
As he went down the stairs, Hina's Grandma smiled at him like every morning.
"Good morning, Mr. Gojo. On your way again?"
He laughed a bit and nodded. It was part of the routine to talk to her a bit, as she was a lovely person and knew the place well.
"Well a two letters arrived today. Both adressed at Mrs. Gojo. So I thought I could give them to you for later."
She handed him the two envelopes with a smile.
He didn't mean to sneak into your business or anything like that. But he couldn't help but feel uneasy almost angry when he saw the names of the senders.
One was from the higher ups. And one from your mother.
And he felt cold as he wondered why they would only write you.
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Bullshit.
The word rings obnoxiously in Steve’s ears as he pushes his way out back, not wanting to be anymore of a talking piece at this party than he already was.
He’d just wanted Nancy to stop drinking, take a second, pace herself…
Steve swipes furiously at his eyes, and then curses when it nearly causes him to run into Chrissy Cunnginham, who’s perched in a chair tucked away from the patio door.
“Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes, trying not to sound like he’s upset, trying to keep his cool--only for her to look up and away, brushing off her own tears.
“Oh.” Steve says, a little laugh bubbling out of him. “You too huh?”
Thankfully she correctly interprets that he's not laughing at her, and adds her own giggle to the mix, the sound gentle even if pitched in upset.
"Boy problems?" Steve asks her, sinking down to the vacant chair on Chrissy's right.
She nods, clasping her hands together in her lap.
"Girl problems?" She asks back, and he grimaces a smile.
They sit for a minute, Steve pulling out a cigarette and offering it to her before lighting up. Chrissy shakes her head, and though her nose curls a little at the smoke she doesn’t say anything.
Neither of them do, staring at the few people bringing the party outside in the way only drunk teenagers can.
"Can I tell you something?" Chrissy says finally, as Steve continues to struggle to keep himself breathing evenly (and not spiraling. He still has to go back and try and escort Nancy home, and he needs to keep his temper when he does it.)
She licks her lips. "I keep trying to break up with Jason, but he won't let me."
It takes a second for the words to register, but when they do he leans himself towards chrissy in concern. “What do you mean, he won’t let you?”
“He’s not--it’s not…”She trails off, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “He talks me out of it is all.”
She’s downplaying it, and Steve’s concern grows tenfold. “Does he argue with you or just…tells you no or something?”
"It's complicated." Chrissy says, refusing to look at him. "He has this vision for me, for us."
Steve watches as she worries at a hangnail.
Feels the need to reach out and take her hand, but keeps his own hands to himself.
If Steve has learned anything, it's that not everyone wants to be touched as much as he does.
"He keeps telling me I'm just being anxious. That I should trust him, and I do, he just expects me to always do what he says? And more and more lately I--"
She huddles down into the little cat costume she's wearing, pulling the thin black sweater around her. "I want different things than he does."
Steve wonders vaguely if Nancy wants different things.
Or a different person entirely.
"That's not fair to you." Steve says, leaning forward and lowering his own voice. "He can't keep you in a relationship you don't want to be in."
A hard thing for him to say, after the bathroom conversation but this is different.
‘Please, let this be different.’ He thinks, before pushing the thought aside.
"He can't force you to do what he wants just because he wants it, or thinks its best. He should be listening to you and what you want too. Relationships are about…compromise right?” It’s what he’s heard anyway, though most of the time “compromise” means “letting the other person get what they want.”
Which is what he thought he’d been doing for Nancy all this time.
“I can help you if you want. Be your," Steve poorly mimes waving a pom pom. "cheer support."
Chrissy looks at him, eyes still wet. "You would?"
"Of course.” He says, before scooting just a smidgen closer. “Might have to ask you to return the favor though. Nancy said some things tonight and I could really use a second--”
A loud curse makes them both startle, interrupting Steve.
Together, they look around before another noise, like bark being scraped, draws both their attention to the large oak that stands in the backyard.”
"Is…is that Eddie Munson?" Chrissy asks.
"I think so."
Chrissy squints a little, as if not quite believing what she's seeing. "Is…he stuck in a tree?"
Steve finds himself staring in his own disbelief, hands moving to his hips as he watches Munsons wriggling, cursing form.
"I think so." He repeats with a shake of his head.
Eddie's foot slips off a branch, once, twice.
"Hey--" Steve calls out in warning, but unfortunately it comes too late.
The branch under his foot gives away with a startling crack! as another branch shreds Munson's jacket as his full weight caches on it.
"Oh!" Chrissy gasps, hand flying to her mouth as Eddie falls right onto his ass with a yelp.
"You good man?" Steve asks, rising from his chair, hesitant to go over but needing to make sure the idiot hasn't cracked his skull open.
Chrissy has no such qualms, popping up to run over to Munson.
"You're bleeding." She tells him worriedly, dropping to her knees to get a better look.
"Well shit." Munson says with a wonky grin. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?” Chrissy asks, as Steve’s newly honed babysitting instincts kick in and drive him to get up and look at Munson’s injury himself.
Chrissy carefully strokes the older teen’s hair out of his face, as Steve bends down to check his head and neck.
"You hurt anywhere?" He asks, spotting the scratch that had Chrissy worried.
It’s on his forehead--the guy must have knocked his face against the tree when he fell. Head injuries always bleed a ton but this one's well contained to a small scrape.
Probably not a concern, though Steve looks at his pupils anyways.
"Nah, I’m pine. I didn't mean to drop in on you guys.” He waves a hand behind him before dropping his voice to a dramatic whisper. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that tree, it was pretty shady.”
Steve, long trained by Dustin, narrows his eyes. "Are you making puns right now?"
"Maybe?" Munson hedges, looking delighted to have been called out.
“Uh huh.” Steve puts his hands back on his hips, straightening up from where he’d crouched down. “Your head okay? You remember your name and shit?”
“Edward Edwardian Munson, present and ready for duty!” He gives a mock salute, before dropping Chrissy a wink. “If the duty is drinking and playing games that is.”
“Your middle name cannot be Edwardian.” Chrissy laughs.
"It is!" He defends, at the same time Steve says,
“It's not "
“Oh?” Munson challenges, as if this entire situation isn’t ridiculous. “Then what is my middle name, Sir Steven?”
“No idea, but I know it’s not that.”
Munson blows a raspberry at him. “Well then, maybe you should mind your own beeswax."
"Like you were doing? Up in the tree right above us?" Steve banters back.
The playful look dies a little, Munson beginning the painful process of standing after one falls.
"For the record, I absolutely was not eavesdropping, you guys just happened to be under the tree I climbed and I was there first. " He says it rapidly, like he's used to being accused of such things, and is heading off as many problems as he can.
Steve just ignores it, opting instead to hold his hands out. One to Chrissy and one to Eddie.
Watches surprise cross the older teens face, even as he waits for Chrissy to get up before accepting Steve's hand.
"Why were you up a tree? The family dog run you up there?" Steve grunts as he pulls the metalhead up.
"Funny." Munson quipped sarcastically. "But no. I was up there for reasons."
'Reasons.' Steve mouths, and has to fight himself to keep from grinning.
"Even though I was there first, I did happen to hear some things." He looks at Chrissy, voice turning serious. "If you need any help getting things through Carver's thick skull I'd love to lend a hand."
"You would cheer for me too?"
"Oh absolutely. I'd make a far better cheerleader than Harrington here." He shoots a grin towards Steve to take the edge off the words, before doing a far more enthusiastic mimicry of the cheerleaders pom pom routine.
"But I know how much Carver hates the word no. If you break up with him and he gives you shit after, I'm happy to step in."
Steve hadn't actually thought about that yet, but given what he knew of Jason it makes sense.
He could easily see Chrissy worrying about Jason harassing her after the break up.
"Thank you. Both of you." She sniffs. "Eddie, are you sure you're okay?"
"Right as rain!" Munson gives a rather theatrical thumbs up. "I'll let you in on a family secret, we Munson's have rubber bones."
She gives him another giggle for his efforts, and even Steve can’t fully cover his
Munson, the ass, notices.
“Well call me the court jester, I got both the King and Queen to smile!” He cheers.
Steve rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny it.
"Chrissy!?" Someone barks, loud in the otherwise quiet backyard.
"Speak of the devil." Eddie drops his voice dramatically as Jason strides out of the house.
"I've been looking for you." He chides, two of his friends following close behind.
They're younger members of the basketball team, ones Steve's brain sluggishly attempts to remember.
"Are your knees dirty?" Jason asks Chrissy, disgust tinting his voice as he slowly looks from her to Munson next to her.
His eyes narrow, expression almost offronted.
"You heathen." Jason snarls, stepping forward with a fist clenched.
It was a move right of the sitcoms Steve swore he didn't watch, and it looked just as cheesy in real life as it did on screen.
"Calm down." Steve speaks up, hands going to his hips.
Jason's head jerks as he registers him, so focused on Munson that Steve slipped his notice entirely.
"Harrington?" He asks, as if Steve could be mistaken for anyone else here.
Steve gives him jazz hands in return.
"What are you doing out here?" Jason speaks only to Steve, whole body angling towards him like he's the only person who matters.
It's something Steve's dad does, if there's a businessman he considers to be an equal in the room. Zoning in on them, so he can subtly work in ways to make them feel inferior.
It's narcissism at its core (or so says his mother, when she's blitzed out on too many glasses of wine.)
"Talking to people." Steve deadpans. "If you're looking for beer, you walked past it."
Jason entire face pinches, like he just stepped in dog shit. "No one just talks to Munson."
It's a stupid thing to say, and whatever Hason was trying to imply with it wasn't appreciated.
"Well mark me as the first." Steve's hip cocks, voice frosting over.
Surprise washes across Munson's face, though he remains silent as Steve deals with Jason.
Probably a smart move, given how Jason seems to be eager for a fight.
"Whatever it is you're doing, you can leave Chrissy out of it." He says, and god his voice even sounds like Steve's dad.
"Chrissy," Steve says, with an eyebrow raise he knows looks judgemental, "can speak for herself."
He turns to face her, inviting her to the conversation, in the same way he'd always wished someone would invite his mother to speak against his father.
Watches as the cheerleader bites her lip, trying hard to hide the tears that have sprung to her eyes--but proves that she's stronger than Steve's mother ever was.
She steps forward, taking the opportunity offered to her with a steadying breath. "Jason--"
"You can explain it to me later." Her boyfriend waves her off, like she was a waitress offering water and not his partner.
Uncaring entirely that she's clearly upset.
That she wants to talk.
Munson has come to stand on Chrissy's other side, gone still in a way Steve's never seen him do.
It's downright weird for a guy who's normally always moving, and Steve knows it's defensive.
He's feeling a little defensive himself right now, though he doesn't want to particularly untangle why.
"Jason, listen to me." Chrissy tries again.
In his preffery vision, Steve spots a flash of familiar color. Turns his head automatically, seeking it out--and sees Jonathan hustling Nancy across the room.
The younger man is trying to balance Nancy while opening the front door, and for a second Steve almost beelines for them, except--
Except.
Nancy's whole body moves in what Steve intimately knows is an exhale, leaning her head in the crook of Jonathan's shoulder.
One arm wraps around his waist, as Jonathan finally gets the door open, and Steve watches with a stunned sort of horror as his girlfriend presses a kiss to Jonathan's shoulder.
It's fine.
He's fine.
Nancy was just--drunk. Seeking comfort. She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't mean it like that, she didn't--
"Oh shit Harrington." Jason drawls, a lazy sort of taunt. "I think Byers just stole your girlfriend."
Steve's head snaps back to him, the emotions he was attempting to box up flying to the front of his brain like dogs who slipped their leash.
"Never thought a priss like Nancy would be easy like that, but then, you never were the kind of guy to inspire loyalty." Jason continues, clearly ignoring his own girlfriend and all Steve can see is red.
Munson sucks air between his teeth next to him, nervously eyeing Steve while Chrissy's eyes have gone wide with shock and growing anger.
"Jason!" She admonishes, but he's not even looking towards her.
That too sharp smile is all for Steve.
He thinks of Nancy, the way she'd been so angry with him but so gentle with Jonathan.
He thinks of the monster he faced down in the Byers house, the terror that had shrank down to that same adrenaline soaked focus he had on the basketball court.
He thinks of this asshole Junior in front of him.
Making Chrissy cry just because she'd been kind enough to try to help Eddie, and accept Eddie's kindness in return when the weirdo tried to help her and Steve both.
Steve taps his foot, then switches his stance.
'Plant your feet.' Hargroves voice snarls in his memory and Steve wouldn't be surprised if the asshole abandons the keg long enough to come watch this.
Have his turn at heckling, just because he can.
Steve plants his feet anyway.
"You know what Carver?" He says, hands dropping from his hips.
Jason's face curves into a smile. "What?" He says, tone smarmy.
"You're full of shit."
Hand cocking back of its own accord, Steve puts every bit of himself into his punch.
Feels it reverberate up his arm as his knuckles connect to Jason's cheek.
It's going to hurt later, but right now all he can do is stand over Jason as the asshole's head snaps sideways, legs staggering him backwards until he's falling into his friends.
Chrissy gasps, Jason's boys chanting variations of 'Oh shit!'
Steve just glares him down.
The junior wipes his bloodied mouth, letting his friends push him up before shrugging them off.
"You're going to regret that." Jason snarls, and Steve squares up a second time, expecting to be rushed, when the sharp snickt! of a switchblade freezes them both.
"I think we're done here." Munson says, knife in hand.
The blade he holds is stained a deep, russet red. Crusty flakes fall off it, drifting gently down to the patio floor.
Jason's eyes boggle at it for a moment before he stands up straight.
"Now it makes sense. You're weak, Harrington, letting the Freak get his claws into you." Jason spits bloodstained saliva down at Eddie's feet. "No wonder Coach wants Billy as co-captain!"
Steve just scoffs.
"Chrissy!" Carver barks, making the poor girl jump. "Come here, we're leaving!"
Trembling, but stepping closer to Steve, she shakes her head.
"Chrissy." Jason orders again, and has the audacity to point to his feet, like a man commanding his dog.
"No." Chrissy says it quietly at first, voice a little shaky, before she seems to realize it.
She stands taller, repeats herself in a stronger voice. "No, Jason. We're done."
Jason stares at her, hard. "Chrissy, your mother told me to bring you home. So I'm going to take you home and get you away from this--demon and his lackey!"
It doesn't sound loving.
It sounds like a threat.
He steps forward, hand out to grab her arm and Steve tenses, shifting to step in front of Chrissy.
Eddie beats him there.
The word demon seems to awaken something in him, because his face is now grinning theatrically, voice dipping low in pitch.
"You heard her, Carver. She said no, and even I respect a lady's wish. So run along now," he walks two fingers in the air, from the hand not waving the knife around. "before I decide to make you and her both one of mine, just as I did Harrington!"
Jason actually crosses himself, before making one last attempt for Chrissy.
"That monster is dangerous. if you don't come with me, I'll have to alert your parents." He locks eyes with her. "For the good of your soul."
Steve snorts at that crock of shit, but Eddie lunges forward, slashing the knife in the air.
It's nowhere near Jason, but the guy leaps a foot back anyway.
"Begone!" Eddie booms, and that's all it takes for Jason and his cronies to huff and puff and stride away.
He keeps his arms in the air for a few beats more, before dropping them when it's clear Jason won't be back.
"So I'm yours, huh?" Steve drawls, as Eddie finally puts his hands down and turns to face them.
The guys scary face drops into something almost excited, and Steve can practically see the adrenaline crackling through him.
"Hey it worked. Carver's a religious nut, he goes running anytime you even hint at Satan." Eddie shrugs, grinning wildly. "Put on a little show and poof! Him and his flying monkeys melt away!"
He mimes melting and Steve stares at him for it, until he hears Chrissy laughing next to him.
Eddie grins at her and Steve is hit with the realization that it was for her benefit. To make her feel better about her psycho ex.
Something fond and familiar winds through his chest as the other boy bows.
He refuses to put a name to it.
"Did you paint your knife?" He asks instead, rubbing the hand he hit Jason with.
"What?" Eddie asks, startled out of his court jester act.
Steve nods to his hand holding the switchblade. "That's not blood, it's way too red."
"Ah." Eddie turns the grin back on, and this time it's for Steve. "Yeah, it's uh. Modeling paint. Not like Carver would know the difference."
Unspoken was the fact that he hadn't thought Steve would.
Prior to last year, he'd have been right.
Drunken cheering erupts into wild yells inside, breaking whatever spell the three of them were under.
Hargrove's voice is the loudest among them, and the dude is definitely wasted.
Steve has a feeling Hargrove also knows the difference between paint and blood, rendering Munson's knife trick useless if the dick tried to start something.
"Do you want a ride home, Chrissy?" He asks quietly.
"If it's not a bother." She says, wiping tears shed refused to let fall from her eyes.
Chrissy Cunningham was a lot stronger than people gave her credit for.
"Come on, Munson, I think it's time we all make our exit." Steve says, finding himself weirdly unwilling to leave the older teen behind.
Eddie could hold his own, but given how badly things were playing out Steve figured it was best if they all just called it a day.
"Yeah lemme just…" Munson puts his blade away, fumbling at his pockets for a moment before turning and snatching up a metal lunchbox.
"There! After you, my liege." He says, before opening the lunchbox to make it talk.
"My lady." He makes it say, pitching his voice high.
Chrissy breaks into giggles again and Steve rolls his eyes, but he claps his good hand on Eddie's shoulder as he walks past.
Eddie smiles at him, this one a bit softer than the others, eyes sparkling and Steve chooses not to read into that either.
The three of them walk together, Eddie splitting off to his van after Chrissy thanks him.
Part Two
#borked my computer trying to update the graphics card#have a thing#steven harrington#eddie munson#chrissy cunningham#this is part of an almost finished one shot#eventual#steve/eddie/chrissy#eddie is a dork#100% this oneshot focuses on how dorky his ass is#well that and putting two jocks back together after bad relationships and monster's details both their lives#i called it patchworks because its written to ne weaved through the shows plot and is mostly compliant until vecna#hurt/comfort#breakup
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Bro I'm... I cant understand people and their actions/line of thought again
#miranda talking shit#As usual really its nothing new. I think its bc i wonder too much about WHY people say stuff to me#But yeah... I was being uh... Emotional about something stupid. Aka i showed Fabian an embarrassing side of me and i was scared#About that/what he'd think of it. And oliver sat and told me over and over that hed probably not think anything of it and its fine#And i know that at an logical level but not... Emotionally? My brain knows but my feelings dont idk#So he basically startrd to suddenly trauma dump on me out of nowhere. And explained how he had abandonment issues and especially concerning#His mom... And then after telling me everything he basically went... Yeah i told you to make you think about something else#And im here like... Bro? Really ??? You shared your deepest secret with me who you stated you basically dont discuss with anyone#Just to make ME think about something else? It sounded bizarre /: he shared a lot more concerning it too with details and stuff and i#He obviously seemed... Anxious about telling me. Bc of how he talked and then after telling me everything he asked me many times what i#Thought. And I'm ... Yoh told me you got trust issues and huge abandonment issues about women in your life and you shared this with me a#Woman .... I... Thats big man. Idk hwo I'll be able to express how i appriciated hin trusting me with that...#He didnt have to. He had no reason to do that? He shared something so personal with me and i just want to express love and appreciation#And support ): like idk how I'll be able to do that... I guess he can just claim he was tired of me crying and moaning about my thing#But even that he could have told me anything else to take my mind of that. Yeah idk im spinning
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𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Out of the menu, still the choice ๋࣭ ⭑
Yandere! Shopkeeper x Willing! Reader
We finally got a winner! *Clap clap* if you want context, you can go here but it's not that necessary we think - the twins
This mf was really more hard to write that I expected but nevertheless we tried to match the energy of the seller pickers so at least it was really fun ngl - Coffee
It took us both a while to draft what we wanted to write for him since he's not a very expressive character and we wanted to try a more subtle approach. If you have any ideas or suggestions for any of them, let us know!! -Tea
Count word: 3.1k (new longest post for now)
Tw: yandere behavior, kind of flirty reader, stalking, kidnaping?, written in you/yours, overall soft yandere, gaslighting, drugging (this really still counts as soft yandere??? believe me, yes), light paranoia, clueless reader
Your eyes scan the papers in your hand, your mind still focused rather on the man that handed you them, sitting right across from him, more specifically, the comment he just murmured. None of the people he mentioned called your attention as much as himself did, perhaps he was more that he presented himself as? He seemed to know much more about you than he’s supposed to, so, was he a yandere as well? And if so, Why miss the chance to tease a potential yandere?
"Huh, so you think I should go out more often?"
"Well, I'm just concerned about your vitamin D intake, that's all. You need more sun Dear, for the sake of your health"
He smugly smirks at you like he's saying obvious facts that you should already know about yourself… though his smirk falters, his lips pressing into a tight line as he rethinks his words, though it was too late to retract them, it was your time to shine.
"Oh? Then why not help me with that yourself? You seem to keep a good track of my time outside for some reason, care to explain yourself, Honey?"
You steal his previous smirk, it now decorating your lips, curving them upwards smugly as he seems to sink into himself, his pen flipping between his fingers as a nervous fidget, scanning your expression, seemingly trying to understand what you were attempting to do with these witty remarks.
“Dear, allow me to remind you, you came all the way here to have an obsessive partner after you walk out this door, I'm sure anyone in the list will love to fulfill the job, sadly, I'm not one of them, I'm deeply sorry if my previous comments left any space for this misunderstanding"
He seems to lifts up a wall between you and him with his formality as if attempting to keep things formal and cordial though his eyes tell a different story, his eyes, akin to a snake’s narrow slightly, scanning your features as if daring you to continue this charade; a sweet chill runs down your spine, which only widens your smile further.
"Ow, come on, there's no need to lie so blatantly to my face, you know exactly why I'm here, and for that I can also tell exactly what is happening here”
He huffs, his fingers running through his black hair, messing up his slick back hairstyle into something much more fitting to match with his semi-formal attire.
"As I just said, I'm not a yandere, let's stop this little game, Dear, I’m not sure how you arrived at this conclusion, little detective…"
Those gray eyes glare at you without even missing a beat, narrowing further to make a subtle warning: quit fooling around. Do you care? No, honestly, him staring down at you only serves to fuel your burning curiosity about the man.
"Fine then, at least answer me this, how did you know i don't go out much?"
The man scoffs as if the answer was as obvious as looking in a mirror.
"Come on now, you are chronically online, I just made a lucky guess"
… Gotcha
"My screen time is something even weirder for you to know for certain though, don't you think?"
A silence ensues, tension and realization thick in the air as his posture changes completely, from relaxed and smug to tense and anxious, he leans forward, eyes avoiding you suddenly, like he wasn't piercing you with his stare just a few seconds ago.
You let your question linger, knowing you won, knowing he had no way to protest your question seamlessly
"... don't tell management"
It was now your turn to sigh. Perhaps he was being truthful and this was just a big misunderstanding. Maybe his “background check” on you wasn't something he was supposed to do ethically speaking, but something he felt compelled to do. Then again, they did have this incident with a fool attempting to illegitimately make a yandere harem. Perhaps it was time to let this go, you tried at least, but being overly pushy could get you kicked out and leaving empty handed wasn't something you were willing to do after finally finding the courage to enter the shop.
"Well, I don't know, I choose Oliver"
You said, the smirk in your lips faltering into a soft defeated smile, shrugging as you chose someone at random, pointing blindly at the papers.
"He's already purchased"
He counters your response abruptly, his tone still formal yet with an air of defensiveness. You wondered, if he was already purchased, then why show it to you at all?
"Damn, okay, then Lio…"
You quickly point again at a random profile, barely even reading the name then scanning his expression, his head shaking even before you managed to pronounce the name fully.
"Sorry"
He responded with a shrug, his shoulders relaxing as if the tension he felt before was gone.
You smile at him once again, well, thankfully you weren't just flirting with the wrong target.
"You’re doing this on purpose"
You announce, amused by the realization, a smile widening in your lips as one seems to simultaneously tug at the corners of his, a mischievous grin adorning his sly stare, those eyes bearing into yours like a wicked fox.
"You choose me, be loyal to your own decisions… though, really, don't tell management. I do maintain I'm not some sort of obsessed maniac, Dear"
That's the most suspicious thing a person can say in a yandere shop but you take it.
"I care next to nothing about management… so, it's a date?".
(...)
You leave the store, hands empty, but not really. You walk with an extra cheer in your step, you managed to get yourself a date with the seller of the damn shop, not one of the many names in those papers, but the shopkeeper, talk about a plot twist.
And so you make your way back home, waiting for the time to arrive, the time in which you'd meet up with the man outside of work in a sweet little restaurant down the same street where the shop is located. As you get yourself ready, checking your outfit, double checking…triple checking, your mind drifts to your conversation with the seller and the way everything he said seemed to avoid each and every one of your questions skillfully. You managed to get his number with the excuse of arranging the meeting time and place, yet… that was all, you didn't even get his name, did you?.
You are brought back to reality with the buzzing of your phone, a notification from an unknown number… though it was the sellers, how did he get your number? Sure, he gave you his, but he shouldn't have a way to contact you yet, that information wasn't even in the paperwork either since you never filled any forms out, you didn't purchase any of the yanderes.
» “Hey, it's the shopkeeper”
You raised a brow at your screen, watching as the little dots bobbed up and down, indicating he was still typing another message
» “just checking if you're still up for this date you so boldly proposed. My shift is over”
His texts are a little dry, yet you can feel the awkwardness from them already, he wasn't fooling anybody, he was nervous as hell.
You quickly type up a response, resuming your teasing over text like you never left the shop and so you text back and forth until the time arrives and you leave your home, walking down the street to the restaurant he sent you the location to. Once you got there, amusement tugged your lips up into a smile. This man, acting so unapproachable, so closed off, was eagerly waiting outside the restaurant with that classic “I'm just looking at my phone” stance, but damn he looked good.
He wasn't wearing that semi-formal suit from before, but rather a tight black shirt, jeans and a jacket. His hair was down and you had to admit, it looked way better that way. You check the time on your phone, you arrive just in time, you look relieved but can’t help but wonder how the seller managed to close up shop, go back home, change and arrive before you when his last text was just a few minutes ago telling you his shift was over.
“aw, you arrived early to meet me? It’s so cute how eager you are for someone who didn't even tell me his name”
You meet his gaze as you approach him with a playful demeanor, his smile still decorating his face as always.
He huffs, glancing up from his phone, his eyes crinkling in a mischievous grin. He pockets his phone and adjusts his jacket, leaning a little closer as he speaks
“Oh, Dear, you got it all wrong, i just got here, but, i must say…waiting would have been worth it, you look stunning”
He said with a soft chuckle and you nudged his shoulder in response to his compliment, though as you nudge him you feel how cold his jacket is, of course he didn't wait for you
“Right, anyways, you know, it's only fair that I get your name. I know you so desperately want to seem all mysterious and shit, but i need to know who I'm flirting with”
You tease bluntly with a chuckle, he tenses up a little, looking away for a second, trying to disguise his blush by rolling his eyes at you.
“I suppose you could call me Jade…”
“Well, jade, pleasure to meet you”
You said trying to imitate his tone of voice as he guides the way inside the restaurant.
“Since I answered your question, it's only fair you answer mine, don't you agree?"
His gaze seems like he's taking notes of your every expression as he gently pulls a chair for you to sit on before he sits across from you.
"Are we doing a little bit of banter here? Huh, that's quite the contrary of what you been doing all day, but please, go on, I'm thrilled to know what you wish to know of me"
His eyes move to the menu, although you can say his entire focus was still on you… because of the fact he can't possibly read the menu when it's upside down.
"So, if I may ask… why did you choose to flirt with me when you came to the shop to get yourself a yandere?"
"Why not? You could say I went there to find someone that catches my eye, and jokes on you, my eyes were set on you the moment you opened that door to guide me into the store"
You restrain yourself not to giggle like a fool when the top of his ears turns red while he's attempting to keep his perpetually smiling facade, oblivious to his own reaction to your words.
"Then, do yo-"
His words quickly die on his throat as a waiter gets to your table, you didn't have the time to catch the small twitch of his eyebrows that lasted a second.
"Good evening, I will be your server for the night, what can I get started for you two?"
As you two order normally, you can't help but feel a sense of discomfort as the waiter always speaks focusing his eyes on you, but Jade doesn't seem to react so you dismissed it, you're only feeling weird because of the awkwardness of being on a first date, although you can't help but sigh faintly with relief after the server walks away.
"Well… anyways, since I replied to one of your questions, guess it's my turn!"
You said smiling, trying to brush off the weird feeling you just had, focusing on your task in hand: the date.
“so, why don’t you tell me a little about your hobbies?”
You gaze at him while his head tilts slightly, as if doubting if to reply or just dodge the question like the past ones.
“Well, they differ depending on the time, I’m the type of person that get a new one every once in a while but one that has stuck since high school is embroidery”
Honestly, you can picture it, he does seem like the type of person who enjoys calm classy hobbies, old lady hobbies if you will. The image is sort of endearing.
"Since high school? Wow, what was your first piece?"
You feel relieved that he seems more open to conversation now that you both are formally on this date. Sadly for you and lucky for him, you focused so much on listening to his answers that you didn't catch the small blush dusting his cheeks.
"...It was a skull, edgy, I know. I really like how it turned out back then though”
“A skull? Very edgy indeed, why-”
Your question was left hanging in the air as an arm interfered with your vision of Jade, the waiter placing your plates on the table with a polite smile. The interjection was a little awkward, but there's not much you can do about it, the waiter is just doing his job.
Though as you lower your voice to a stop, interrupted by the waiter, you see the slight hint of annoyance in Jade’s face flick for a second just to disappear like it never happened, it makes you wonder if that was a hint of jealousy? It probably wasn't… your yandere rotten brain must be seeing things, right?
As you two indulge in conversation, enjoying your little date, you almost lose track of time. It feels like in the blink of an eye, the date was already at its final point, the only thing that popped your bubble was his phone ringing.
"...sorry, it's my boss, allow me to step out real quick, it won't take long I'm sure"
You nod to him before he makes his way to the restroom to pick up the call. Honestly you feel kind of sad that the dinner was reaching its end but well, you can't be that clingy on the first date.
As you ponder between when and where the perfect second date will be or if it's best to wait for him to ask for another, the waiter interrupts your thoughts, placing a glass of what looks like raspberry juice on the table.
"Excuse me sir, I didn't order this"
The waiter gives you a puzzled expression as if it were a competition who is more confused by the situation but is quick to giggle as if it was an inside joke of his before reassuring you.
"Oh, don't worry, it's already been paid”
You didn't have time to ask further questions when the busy server was already on another table that needed him, well, it looks tasty anyways, why reject something when it's free?
You honestly feel like luck is on your side today; you got the confidence to try and flirt with Jade and successfully get yourself a really good date! And you also get a free drink as a way to celebrate your little achievement, so you take a big gulp.
Huh? Weird, you know the taste of raspberry by heart, why does it taste more bitter? Ugh, the fruit is probably not that fresh , even the consistency feels a little thicker too. Well, raspberry juice is supposed to be like that, perhaps you got too used to store bought and got yourself confused.
"Well, is not like a restaurant would sell 'expired juice' as their main drink, surely I'm just overthinking it"
You reason with yourself in a whisper as you set the drink aside, ugh, maybe you drank too big of a sip, you start to feel like you got brain freeze or something.
(…)
“Dear, are you feeling well? Do you need to go to the restroom?”
The sound of his relaxed voice quickly fills your ears, your mind feels hazy but you nevertheless try focusing on him as he sits back down to the table, catching his expression changing from the usual laid back grin to a worried frown. You didn't even notice when he came back from his work call, not until he was right in front of you, it's like time passed while your brain was stopped, something wasn't good…
"Did something happen? Do you need a pain-killer? Did the food upset your stomach?"
The rapid fire questions overfill your already overwhelmed mind as his hands hold your shoulders before he places his forehead against yours to check your temperature and although you tried, your currently unstable self only managed to hardly mumble some words.
"I… don't know, I just drank that"
You focus your gaze on the glass of juice and he follows your gaze with a frown as if his laid back mask is cracked.
"the color is slightly off and ice is only floating up to the middle of the glass…"
Was there really something wrong with your drink? What was in there? How bad is it? What's going to happen to you? Was it the waiter? Was there someone in the restaurant you didn't see? Why is this happening today?
"Dear, focus on me, okay? Don't worry, you're fine, just dizzy, I will make sure you are okay, alright? Take a deep breath for me darling"
Through your dizziness you watch as he moves skillfully and quickly, paying the bill as fast as he could to take you out of there, his arms tightly wrapped around you to steady your wobbly stance, guiding you out of the busy restaurant. It's almost as if you were drunk, which didn't make sense, you felt yourself slipping further out of your senses, sounds muffled and your vision blurry, your legs and hands feeling tingly with each step you took with his assistance.
"Jade, I-"
"Don't worry Dear, I will take care of you, just trust me, alright?"
You can help but feel grateful that even in this awful situation, you managed to have someone so gentle and caring with you, but before you can try to babble a thank you, you feel your mind shut off like an old tv… don't worry, you are being taken care of, Dear.
He just wants to look after you, it would be so creepy if he left you unconscious at your place since he's not supposed to know your address yet, so, guess the only choice is him letting you crash at his apartment, it's fine, you will find yourself at home there, it's really cozy!
. . .
Wait, did you really believe him? That's kind of hilarious, try guessing again.
sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣
images from pinterest and divider by Tea ⚘
#Spotify#coffee speaking#tea speaking#yandere shop#the questionable seller#yandere x willing reader#male yandere#yandere male#yandere#soft yandere#oc x reader#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere x reader#reader insert#x reader#yandere x darling#tw yandere#x yn#yandere x you#x you#x you fluff#yandere fluff#tw drugs#x male reader#x female reader#gn reader
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Broken Telephones
Ex!Jake x Fem!Reader | Jay x Fem!Reader
Summary: Despite Jay priding himself on being a good friend, he's done denying himself what belongs to him.
Warnings: Language, Obsession, Jealousy, toxicity, Ex Boyfriend's Best Friend to Lovers, Smut +18 (mdni), Squirting, Manhandling Ownership kink, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionist Kink, Dubious Consent, Angry Sex, Threats, Dom/Sub Themes, Hard Dom!Jay
Based on this request by @penny44224 . This gets really toxic, sorry, also I couldn't leave my baby Jake out of this, hope you like it <3
“What kind of party is this anyway?” You grumble from the passenger seat, your heart sinking behind the glittery confines of your tight collared shirt. Something so tight and so painfully provocative would never have come out of your own closet. You had Jake and his obscene budget to thank for that.
“The normal kind,” he says, “with drinking and sex and smoke-” before he's allowed to continue his blissful rambling, you interrupt Jake with a raise of your hand.
“Need I remind you that I have asthma?” With a firm hand on the steering wheel, Jake's eyes roll into the back of his head.
“I can't go.” You continue, “That's a health risk.”
“You haven't had an asthma attack since you were 6,” he deadpans, “Do not piss me off,”
It was difficult to do much of anything with a pounding heart and a stomach flooded with molten anxiety. What do people do at parties anyway? You've watched enough low budget teen Netflix dramas to know… nothing good.
"I don't think you understand the words leaving my mouth," The dwindling daylight leaves your bones rattling with anxiety. You were supposed to be watching the sun setting over the river skyline from your dorm room. Your notes on autocracy in a Constitutional Monarchy, pending across the page in front of you, ready for submission Monday morning.
Instead, you find yourself arrested in a leather seat, in a shameless chequered miniskirt. Your exposed thighs are sticky with evening humidity. This is not how your evening was supposed to go.
"I need to be studying-"
You're battling fiercely with a Mr Morale tune oozing through the Jeep's speakers while your best friend remains blissfully unaware, rapping along as if your concerns were null and void.
Kendrick's voice was strong but yours was stronger. "Since I am an unwilling participant, this is technically kidnapping. You are illegally kidnapping me this very second. You are aware of that, yes?"
"Nonsense,” Jake chuckles, “I can't kidnap my ex girlfriend-” before you're able to rebut he quickly adds, “And I am aware that you're going to wake up one day realising your stupid ass wasted your college years studying." Jake shoots back while the chorus sails on without him. This was serious business if he took the time to ignore Kendrick's second verse. "I'm aware that in all our time in school you've done nothing but school. I'm also aware that I'm saving you from a life of complete and utter regret.” His big brown eyes narrow in the dark, and you are corralled into a shameful silence.
“Just don't try to sleep with me tonight-” you grumble under your breath.
“I'm a changed man,” he says, “I've only thought about fucking you only once this whole evening!”
“Oh god…” you shake your head slowly as the jeep assumes a safer speed in a residential enclosure. “These are rich people's palm trees, why am I seeing rich people's palm trees?"
"Because I got invited to an event that classifies the attendance of rich-people-palm-trees." His stoney visage cracks into a lazy, triumphant smirk.
“Rugby team.” Is all he says.
Your hand flies to the door handle, for what purpose specifically, remains an utter mystery. The car is still in motion so you did not have the intention of flinging the door open and hurling your body onto the biting tar underneath.
"Stop being so goddamn anxious all the time-”
“Jake, I don't even like Rugby-”
“No but you like me… and I like rugby… ergo…,” the car slows to a nauseating stop in the middle of a packed driveway.
"Let me rephrase that- Jake your friends hate me-"
"If this is about Jay again..."
"He's never liked me!" You huff, "Even when we were dating it's like he had it out for me or something!" Your shoulders are tense and Jake can't help but send a worried glance over. He ventures to lay his one hand on your thigh but stops himself, placing it instead on shoulder to rub out the knots there.
"You're making excuses. Jay hates everyone," he says, “I need you to forget about school for one night.” Jake's pep talk only succeeds in filling the void of your stomach with even more dread. “You think about dead politicians way too much for a 20 year old girl."
And that's how you end up in the backyard of a frat house as the third accessory of Jake and some unnamed girl. He has his arms wrapped around both your necks as he enters the party, like some glorified university replica of Hefner.
You know in this light, you appeared to be one of his girls, but the thought of weathering this party without Jake on standby filled you with unmistakable dread.
It was as if the soles of your feet were melting into the grass with each step you took towards the bonfire, even more so when you saw him already seated at the edge of a log, watching you approach with a smile that eases into an unimpressed frown. Jay's cup is held in mid-air as he watches you plop down beside him.
A single gold chain is tucked away behind a loose button up and suddenly, you wish to burrow into the ground underneath this log, away from the vulnerability of his gaze. You felt naked.
“You're not drinking.” Jongseong observes, glancing away from you and Jake's hand sliding over your hip bone.
“What’s in it?” You ask, eyes drifting over Jay's solo cup.
“Sugar, spice and everything nice,” he whispers back.
Beside you, Jake entertains the rest of his friends, his fingers rubbing unconsciously into your sides.
You don't seem at all impressed.
“What do you want me to say?” He asks with a slight deadpan, “That I put my love and affection into it? You're at frat house. This is probably 90% alcohol-”
“-And 10% mysterious drugs to roofie unsuspecting girls.” You conclude before making an elaborate show of pushing further into Jake's side. Jay doesn't like that one bit.
“If I wanted you to sleep with me,” his lips tickle your ear and you shiver, “I wouldn't need to get you high out of your mind to do it.”
Something in his words sounded vaguely like a promise.
“You'll just fall in line,” Jay said, “Like all the others.”
Before Jay could get another mind numbing word out, you're quickly standing from your post from beside Jake. “Coming here was a mistake. I'm Heading Home,”
Jake's hand tugs at yours as if prompting you to sit back down.
"Not after the game… C'mon, it'll be fun," you let Jake's words anchor you to the floor.
"Actually, Jake," Even under the moonlight you can spot a deep frown setting across his face, "I think I should go home. I've already had way too much to drink,"
"You've had 1 cup, my dear-”
"And a half," you clarify before shaking your head. ‘and your frjend is making me really fucking uncomfortable,’ you choose to leave those unspoken words unspoken.
You play with the string along the seam of your skirt, humming along to the Drake tune oozing out of the unseen speakers.
“Aww, you really don't wanna join our game?” Jay coos, looking up at you with an incriminating smirk as he clutches his heart as if you hurt him deeply.
“I'll pass.”
“Course you will,” he snickers. “Princess can't bear to stay away from her book too long, can she?’ It's that tone, that fucking that has you lowering
“What…” you swallow thickly, “What game?” you find yourself asking with a dignified huff as you plant your butt on the log in Between Jake and Jay once more. Your bones are rattling with unprocessed rage as Jake whispers, “broken telephone,”
He snickers, “just try to be as quiet as possible,- never thought I'd be saying those words to you of all people-” you sit at Jake's arm as the game begins with the first message travelling from Jungwon to Jungwon’s date. Unbeknownst to you, Jay has been zeroed in on your conversation with Jake all evening-his blood simmering at the sound of you and Jake whispering sweet nothings to each other like people who were still very much lovers.
His jaw clenched as he plants his steepled elbow on his knees, his hands hanging lazily in front of him as he tries to focus on playing the game and not the giggles exchanged between you and your supposed ex boyfriend.
Sunoo finally passes the message into Jay's right ear, a very clear and resounding- ‘there is nothing satanic about pineapple on pizza’- Jungwon’s attempt at absolution from an argument they had weeks ago. But instead of carrying this specific message over into your ear, subsequently bringing the game to a victorious end, he stops midway, watching your laugh aimed at the blackened night sky while Jake looks up at you with that expression that was very much not supposed to be reserved for ex's.
Jay decides to throw the game.
“Your turn,” Jay's voice is dripping in monotony, as if he couldn't be bothered to even talk to you, let alone play this game with you.
Your mouth falls open when he slithers his hand to the back of your neck, leading your head to his slightly parted lips until said lips are tickling your ear lobe. Your heart is sinking into the confines of your stomach and for the briefest moment, you fear the world might have stopped spinning as Jongseong carries his next words in your ear. Game be damned.
“First floor. Third door on the left.” His hand is still planted on the back of your neck as he whispers those words at you and you're immediately struck with the severity in his tone.
You weren't an idiot.
In fact you'd like to consider yourself quite smart.
You knew that whatever Jay confessed - or rather implied - was definitely not the contents of Jungwon’s intended message. A broken telephone indeed.
Still, coiling in your stomach is a confusing web of wired tension that needs to be snapped. All night, your banter with Jongseong had been laced with something far more frustrating, something you needed to get out of your system.
“U-Um I need to go to the bathroom-” you don't know why you're following his orders. You don't know why you're walking steadily towards what you know very well was probably Jongseong's room in the frat house- a lamb to the proverbial slaughter. All you know is that your heart speeds up just a little quicker when you hear him excusing himself from the group right behind you with; “I'm going for a smoke.”
Your mind is hazy with not only fear, but insane unmistakable lust as you make your way up the stairs, surfing between bodies as you make it onto the first floor landing. You can feel Jongseong's oppressive presence behind you. You can feel how anxious he is to get you alone.
And when you enter his room, there is almost no time to regret following orders because he has you pinned against the closed door. The sound of the party is muffled outside but all you're concerned with is Jongseong's palm cradling your throat, his hooded eyes holding something so incredibly angry within.
“What the fuck do I have to do to make you forget him?” His voice cracks as he mumbles drunkenly. You'd never seen someone as put together as Jay, appear so wayward, so driven by inhibitions.
His palm slithers tighter around your neck, too late for your brain to process that you need his hands off.
“You've been taunting me the whole night.”
“Jongseong, I don't know what-”
Your words bleed into a yelp as he pulls you in by the neck to connect your lips in a steering and sloppy kiss.
Once he gets even a tiny taste, all inhibitions are thrown out the window. Jongseong's cock hardens in his pants and he's utterly delicious with lust.
“You're such a slut, you know that?” He mumbles drunkenly, words meshing together, “Might as well have walked in with his fucking collar around your throat like he owned you-”
“Jongseong-” a gasp cracks your throat when Jay forces his hand underneath your skirt, immediately cupping your sex until you are arching your back against the door.
“Oh- fuck- Jongseong-”
A snicker slips from his alcohol stained lips as Jongseong drags you from the door to his window, overlooking the backyard.
“You want him to see what a slut you are for me?” Your tits press against the glass as Jongseong looms behind you, sliding your panties to the side before dipping his fingers into your soaked folds.
“I didn't-”
What you wanted to say before the weight of chasing your own lust overpowered your senses, is that you didn't know just how deep Jongseong's infatuation ran. You didn't even know he likes you.
“All he needs to do is turn around and look up, and he'll see you fucking yourself on my hand-” Jay's other hand reaches over to pull down your top, putting your breasts on absolute display. You're moaning wantonly into the air as you push yourself back into Jay's hand fucking into you and you feel like crying real tears.
“You're fucking soaked. Is that for me or for him?”
“Jongseong I'm gonna-” you're squirting all over his hand, your ass pressed against his front before the rest of the words could even leave your lips. Jongseong is utterly mystified by the sight of you arching backwards against him, body writhing as you come undone right there by his window.
“Fuck,” his voice cracks again, he's utterly pained. “You're gonna do that again, but on my cock this time-”
“Jongseong-” you barely made it a whisper before he's flinging you onto his bed. The springs creek underneath your back as he pulls you by the hips to the edge, manhandling you as if you were nothing but property.
“I saw you first, you know that, right?” Jay mumbles to himself as he drags his pants down to pull his aching cock out. “I saw you first and Jake-” he spits on his hand, jerking his cock above you, “That fucker knew I wanted you first but he hit on you anyway-” Before he can continue in anger, a low groan leaves his throat. “Fuck baby, open your legs just like that-” they snap open on command, you're not sure you're able to deny him anything in this state. And what a state it is: braids hanging around you like a halo, your shirt, a mess with your tits hanging out, all while Jay swipes your panties away to make way for his cock already leaking precum. It's like he didn't have time at all to undress you. He needed to be inside you so fucking badly.
“I'm gonna cum inside, I hope you know-” Jay's eyes roll back into his head as he eases his cock in, one hand pressed on the bed at the side of your head as he hovers over you, “You're squeezing my cock, for fuck's sake-” he ruts into you, creating a burst of friction that has your stomach coiling again-”
“Jongseong- baby-”
“Fucking Christ, don't call me that or I'm gonna cum-” he's soon fucking into you with the urgency and frustration that has been building since you and Jake announced your relationship.
It inked his veins and seeped into his habits, whereby he'd crane his neck back in every econ class, just to get a look at you in 10 minute intervals. He loved you and you just refused to see it.
Having you underneath him now, tits bouncing while he fucked you on his bed- it was all proving too much for Jongseong and you moan at the feeling of his cock twitching inside you.
“I'm gonna cum- fuck you're such a slut-”
He squishes your cheeks together, in a vaguely condescending display of power and kisses your forehead before muttering, “Tell me you're a slut for me and not him.” You clench around his cock at the vaguely animalistic quality in Jay’s voice as he squeezes the base of your throat, bringing you dangerously close to the edge.
“Jongseong-”
“Say ‘I'm Park Jongseong's slut-” say it babe and I'm gonna fucking cum,” you’re already slipping into your orgasm, the pressure in your cunt building into the unmistakable feeling of immense fullness.
You're gushing around his cock as you scream. “Your slut- Fuck! I'm Park Jongseong's slut-”
His nails dig into the skin around your neck and his eyes roll into the back of your neck.
“Oh my fucking god-” your squirt threatens to push his cock out but he fucks you through it, muttering, “My fucking girl,” over and over again to guide you both through the storm.
Once it's all over, you're panting with the weight of your actions hanging heavy between you. He's about to speak but you stop him first. “I didn't know.” You whispered. “If I'd known I would've never been with him. You have to believe that.”
Jongseong collapses beside you, pulling against his chest as his hands pat down your hair, “I believe you.” He says with finality.
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