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romana-after-dark · 23 days ago

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Our Gentle Sins: Chapter 8

Thank you so so so much to @plasticbabies for making this beautiful header!!!! we finally have a good one!

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

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Chapter summary: Past. Logan and you dance. Present. Your admit your issues with doctors.

Warnings: This fic features non con, pregnancy, and themes of religous trauma. I will not be saying everything that happens to warm you, by clicking read more you are prepared for extremely dark themes and that you at 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

3.0 words

Before

You were beautiful. No, no, beautiful wasn’t enough. Radiant. Ethereal… Fuck, Logan was struggling to find words as he watched you in your dress, confidently striding around the dance with a spring in your step. You wore a yellow, floral dress that vaguely resembled regency era, everyone around you wearing the best they could get. Charles had put money towards allowing the teens to get nice dress clothes, believing knowing how to dress properly was important, so when you and your literature class planned a school ball, they were prepared. Everyone came, because of course they did. You were the favorite teacher.

Being the favorite teacher meant Logan hadn’t hardly seen you all evening, watching you float like a butterfly around the hall talking to everyone. You had enlisted him and Remy, as well as a few others like Scott or Emma to help chaperone, but you and Remy and him had spent the week setting everything up. Logan never saw himself as the type to hang up streamers, but for you he’d do it all. Sometimes, he’d catch you glancing towards him even while chatting with another, and that made him happy.

You made him happy.

“She’s beautiful, Logan.” Kurt appeared next to him, but Logan didn’t stop watching you. The way you looked tonight, he needed to make sure you didn’t suffer unwanted attention. He’d protect you.

“Yeah, she really is.”

“You make a move yet?”

Logan rolls his eyes. Kurt was nosey. “No, Kurt. You know I can’t.”

A chuckle beside him. “No, I actually don’t. Charles didn’t actually say you couldn’t. I think you just like to wallow in self pity. Remy agrees.”

His head whips towards his friend, tearing his eyes off you for just a minute. “The fuck you talking to the Cajun about me for?”

Kurt remained playful. “Besides you and her, no one wants you together more than Remy does. Now, for fucks sake Logan, go get your girl.”

You were talking to Hank, discussing the struggles of making the most period accurate dance you could with one of the few people here who could understand.

“Can I cut in?”

Logan.

You turn to see him, and god, he was beautiful as ever, but incredible in that dapper suit. He slaps a friendly hand on Hank’s back, and Hank gives him a knowing look, politely excusing himself to go get some food. Logan smiles down at you, holding out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

Heat warms your skin, heart picking up as you try and fail to hold back a smile, taking his hand. “My dance card is very full, but I think I can squeeze you in.”

It was perfect. Logan, being the man 200 something years old, knew how to dance. Remaining chaste, somehow you still managed to feel like he was burning a hole through your clothes when he touched you. His hand on your waste felt indecent, salacious… but his touch on your shoulder was downright lewd. Logan had never seen your shoulders, always covered up even that night, and a few nights after, you came to his room as he tossled in the throws of a nightmare. Not that he had seen the waist he touched so lightly either, but you imagined him slipping off the dress with the hand on you, heat beginning to pool in your stomach.

Logan had never mentioned catching you masturbating, although he’d certainly heard you calling his name as well. The window was nothing to his hearing. He was polite enough to leave it be, and that’s one of the things that made you fall in love with him. He was better than you deserved. Logan was good, Logan was kind and gentle and you didn’t care what other people thought of him. He was better than you.

“You look beautiful, Dolly.” Logan spoke earnestly, thumb caressing over the material on your collar bone, making you wince in pain, his large hand splayed over you.

The compliment made you blush, casting your eyes away. You knew how to take a compliment, even if you weren’t convinced of its truth. “Thank you.”

“Hey.” His hand, smooth and soft from the regenerative cells in his body, cupped your face, coaxing it up to look at him. “I mean it.” When your eyes avoid his, he presses further. “Why don’t you believe me?”

You swallow hard. How to explain it without sounding like a jealous or catty bitch. You didn’t hate other women. You were jealous of many here, yes of course you were. Jean, Emma, Rogue, Storm. Of course you were jealous, you weren’t an idiot. But it wasn’t the sort that made you dislike them. All the women here had been wonderful to you, but still, you struggled to connect. You felt out of place in womanhood, often feeling as if you were a perpetual teenage girl on the outskirts, no idea how to be a woman correctly. It wasn’t that you were a virgin, but you hadn’t had any idea what they were talking about with sex. Your husband made you feel dirty for wanting to try anything new.

You didn’t know how to do make-up or how to dress like them, do hair and fuck and kiss and maybe kiss each other? You didn’t know. Did friend kiss all the time like in college movies? What was normal? Getting married at 16 certainly wasn’t. You couldn’t really talk to them about interests because you didn’t really know what interested you. You liked reading, but the books Emma read were…. Well, far from the Jane Austen and Agatha Christie you read. Part of you wanted to read those books… but you was scared.

It was a big world out there, and you didn’t know how to navagate it.

“Dolly, talk to me.”

“I just… sometimes I wonder why you spend so much time with me… there are far prettier women here-”

“Dolly-”

“Who don’t cry when they try on pants, who don’t dress like grandmas, who can drive a car-”

Who can give you children.

“Hey-”

“You should be spending your time chasing someone who can give you what you want. I’m not an idiot, Logan. I know you feel what I feel for you but…” Tears prickled at your eyes. “But I can’t… I can’t be what you need or want, Logan. I can’t.”

For a long moment, you danced in silence, Logan leaving you in a waltz as bodies blurred around you. Scott and Emma, Remy and Rogue, student couples of yours who you’d suspected were together… all of it surround you, filling the air with lust and love and friendship. In the middle of it, you and Logan, some combination of all three.

“I’m not who you think I am, Logan.”

“What do you know of what I need, baby doll? I don’t need what others have. I need what you have. I need you. You. You are my dolly, nothing else matters.”

Your next words blurted out. “I can’t get pregnant.”

Another pause. “I guessed that.”

Your head whips up, finally looking at him in shocked confusion. “What?!”

“Fundamentalists don’t believe in birth control. They don’t even believe in um… natural family planning. You were married several years. So, either you didn’t get pregnant either because of you or him, or you left children behind.”

“I’d never leave children with that monster.” You spat out your words.

“I know. I know you wouldn’t. I figured it was either you or him.”

His trust in your character touched you, but there was something else that stood out. “What do you mean him?” Logan narrowed his eyes, brows pinched together.

“Him? If he didn’t have enough…” He hesitated to find the polite words. “Well, if the issue was on his end.”

Your skin, if it was burning before with Logan’s touch, was on fire in a rage. “You mean the issue could’ve been him?”

You were absolutely livid. All those years, all those years he blamed you, said you were barren, and it could have been him! Your beliefs at the time didn’t allow for medical intervention for women who struggled with infertility (natural only!) so you never went to the doctor for help conceiving. For years you were miserable, wanting a child, wanting nothing more than to be a mother, told all you were worth was your potential motherhood and since you couldn’t live up to it, you were nothing.

And it might not have been because of you.

Logan watched with concern as your eyes filled with tears, burying your head in his nice shirt to hide your crying as you explained it all. Every negative pregnancy test, how badly you wanted it, the nights you spent on your knees until the bruises begin God to be worthy of a child.. How every time one of your siblings or church members announced a pregnancy you rejoiced for them but felt a punch in the gut, how your husband beat you for your failures.

“Did Logan make you cry?”

Scott pulled you out of your thoughts. Not long after you and Logan danced, Scott asked for one and you happily obliged. Scott was very kind. Remy was a good friend, Logan was… whatever was happening with Logan. But Scott checked in on you regularly. See if you needed anything, if you were settling into the school well, if you were having any trouble or concerns with the teens. When you were sick, he checked in late that day much to Logans annoyance.

“What?” You snap to attention. “Oh! No, no… I was just… other stuff, you know.”

You couldn’t see Scotts eyes, so reading his face was harder than with most. Over the years, you’ve gotten good at reading men's body language and facial expressions, the only way to survive in the male dominated world you grew up in. Scott was an enigma.

“Are you sure? Because Judith,” His use of your pseudonym threw you off. “If anyone here is harming you, we won’t protect them. I know the life you had, but you can just us. We won’t choose Logan over you.”

What on earth was he talking about? “Logan wouldn’t hurt me, Mr. Summers.” You insist, eyes searching for Remy, hoping to get out of this conversation.

Scott’s thumb pulled at the top of your dress, moving it aside just a single inch, but you knew what it revealed. You gasp, swiftly covering it up again, hoping no one saw. “What-”

“If he is hurting you, you need to tell me. I promise, I can he-”

A large, hairy hand clamped down on Scotts shoulder, a subdued cry of pain escaping Scotts lips.

Logan spoke, a dark, low voice in Scotts ear. “The only fucking reason I’m not tearing your arm off is because my baby doll spent months planning this dance and it would be rude to spray blood all over her guest. So I suggest you take your hands off her, and we handle this outside like men.”

“LOGAN STOP!” You scream, crying against the wall as you watched Scott and Logan fight in the parking lot. Well, fight wasn’t the right word. Scott could probably have killed Logan if he was really trying, but he wasn’t. Scott was far more rational than Logan was, especially now.

The two men battled it out, leaving you all but forgotten as you sob on the floor.

Then, an explosion. It wasn’t big, nothing and no one was damaged, but enough to make Scott and Logan stumble back and pause, chests heaving in their torn and dirty formalwear.

“For fucks sake!” Remy appeared from the purple cloud, gesturing towards you. “I leave for 5 minutes and I come back to find my friends fighting like teenage boys! And I do say boys, cher, because a man,” He reached a hand to you, helping you up. “Wouldn’t leave a lady crying on the floor!”

“Take her inside.” Scott instructs. “I’ll handle this.”

Logan’s ‘fuck off’ went unnoticed.

“And what, exactly, are you handling?”

“I dunno, Remy, maybe something to do with the claw marks on her!”

All eyes turned to you, including Remy. “Pistache,” His voice was gentle. Did something happen?”

You melt under the pressure, slinking away behind where Remy stood. “I can explain, Mr. Summers.”

And just like that, eyes were back on Scott. “Are really out here trying to kill our brother in arms before you even ask the girl what happened?”

Scott looked embarrassed. “She won’t say anything about him! She’s clearly scared! Besides, I wasn’t trying kill him…”

“Ah, just maim him then.”

“Dolly.” Logans voice called to you. He looked so worried, so sad, his eyes wide and desperate. “Did I… hurt you?”

You nod. “But Logan… It was the nightmare.” You turn to Scott, a hint of indignation you couldn’t help for him accusation to Logan, but a softness because someone, someone cared enough to notice. “He was having a nightmare. He scratched me in his sleep when I tried to wake him.”

Once again unreadable, Scotts voice was careful. “You don’t have to defend him. You can-”

“Respectfully, Mr. Summers,” You said, letting go of Remy in favor of approaching Logan and taking his hand. “I’ve survived abuse once. I told people then, they didn’t believe me but I told them. I would do it again if Logan did that. But from Logan’s point of view, you were pulling at my clothing. So I think its best both of you sweep this under the rug as a misunderstanding.” You walk away, taking Logan with you. “Logan and I are about to miss the last dance.”

After

“You’re missing the dance.”

“Can’t wear anything that won’t show them I’m pregnant.”

It was prom, and you had organized another dance for it. Months of work, and you couldn’t even see your students dresses. Everything nice enough to chaperone would be too tight, thanks to the slight bump. You didn’t know Logan would be back so soon, but him and Kurt returned this evening. Under the blankets, you feigned sickness to Remy, asking him to attend the ball in your stead, show your students the love you wanted to give.

Your first year here was almost done, and you were sure once the pregnancy came out you’d be fired. You couldn’t expect Charles to put the baby through daycare.

The room was dark, but the glow of the TV illuminated Logan as he sat on the chair with a heavy sigh.

“How's the girl?” You ask.

“She’s gonna need a lot of rest and food and she’s on an IV but… she’ll make it. Seems happy to be here. Kurt and her got along well.”

“Good.” The Tv drowned out the quiet, Bobs Burgers again. “You know, I don’t understand half of this show sometimes. Pop Culture references I don’t get. Like, who is queen Laytifa? Who is Bruce Springsteen? I don’t know.”\

A beat. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t get a lot of the jokes either.”

You give a small chuckle. “It kinda does. At least I have an excuse.”

Logan gives you a moment before asking. “How are you been since i left.”

You try to think of an honest answer. “Morning sickness is terrible. Nightmares are worse than ever, but Remy’s helped me. I’m too fat for some of my clothes already. Not going great, honestly.”

“Dolly,” He huffs, “We need to get you into a-”

“A doctor. I know. School’s out in two weeks.” You take a deep breath and release it slowly. “I’m teaching a few summer classes and the literature club is meeting through the summer but… I’m free at noon every day. We can go, I guess.”

Logan’s heart leap, relieved to finally get you and his baby medical care once again. He knew this was difficult for you, you never went to doctors for anything this whole school year.

“Is it a naturopathic thing? Like you guys didn’t believe in science.”

You groan, covering your face with a blanket. “Why do you think we’re friends, Logan? I’m not talking to you about my life like this!”

Frustrated and tired, he tugged the blanket back down. “”I just wanna take care of you, dolly!”

“After you raped me!” Your words hung in the air, bitter on your tongue, but more spilled out. “I- I was pregnant once. I think. It was too early to test but I just… knew. And then he beat me. It was… it was so bad, Logan. I’ve never known pain like that. And then I started bleeding. I tried to tell a doctor I was being abused…” You willed yourself not to cry this time. “But he told me…”

You think back to that night, your eyes pinched shut as you recounted it to Logan. Everything hurt. You wanted a female doctor but your husband insisted on seeing a family friend. When you were alone you tried to say no, you didn’t fall that he did this too you. You tried to say that you made you miscarry!

‘Do you know what the laws are for abortion here, ma’am?’

His question stunned you.

‘Uh… illegal?’

You didn’t really know.

‘Legal in some circumstances, unfortunately. But illegal outside of medical performance, and we don’t know how far along you are.’

‘I’m only-’

‘Whose to say. My point is, how are we to know you didn’t try to skirt around the law and end your own pregnancy?’

You couldn’t take the TV anymore. Too loud, too bright. You turn it off, getting up to open the window for fresh air. Through the crack, music from the prom spilled in, Glitter in the Air.

Logan’s arms wrapped around your waist, burying his hair in your face and you wanted to pull away. You wanted to scream. But you also wanted Logan to just be your Logan again. Maybe he was? You had missed him, even now after everything you missed him. You wanted to be with him.

“Dance with me, Dolly. Even if it’s our last.”

So you danced with him. And it was not the last.

But Charles returned for graduation, and you needed to make a choice what to do.

WOW THANK YOU SOSOSOSOSOOSOSOSOSO much!!!!!

comments mean the ENTIRE world and the in depth thought you've all given are so wonderful!!!!!!

I really really am so delighted with the love here, and all the new followers and friends!!!

Thank you so so much everyone. I love you all!!

My tags have not been tagging??????? s be careful and make sure youre caught up!!! also if you wanna join my discord to keep up, let me know! it is a fully leftist group, pro queer, anti-zionism, leftist etc etc

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galdra-studios · 8 months ago

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Hi everyone!

Spring is here! Which of course in Denmark means it's time for the last annual snow storm ahah! Our poor flowers... Hopefully they will get the sunshine they deserve soon.

With a Kickstarter campaign looming on the horizon, most of our efforts right now are focused on putting together a great demo for everyone to enjoy. We've been working on the game for a while now and created a lot of content, but it’s when you connect all that content together to make something playable that the struggle truly begins xD

Here’s a little game development fun fact: There’s a saying when you make games, that making the last 20% of a game takes as much time as the first 80%, which is why you end up cutting 10% ^^0 We’re still only making a demo, so the things we cut now might still make it into the final version.

However, since we’ve already done this once before, we’re a lot more conscious about rating tasks as essentials and nice-to haves in case we don’t have time to finish everything. For example, a pretty CG image showing a scene can-be temporarily replaced with descriptive text and the story will still make sense, but a character needs to have at least one sprite, otherwise it will just be empty air talking - not ideal ^^

One of the most time-consuming art tasks we have is creating the player character sprites. As the player’s representation in the world, they are basically on-screen in every scene, and therefore need to be of the highest quality.

For the original Arcadia Fallen, we ended up redrawing the female body type three times to make it perfect, but that was also because my art skills improved while we were working^^0 This month, I’ve drawn expressions for the androgynous body type and I fear I might repeat the same pattern again, because I still think I can improve them. That will have to wait until after the Kickstarter though.

For now, the sprites are in the game, which is a good milestone to be at. I’m not sure we’ll have all three body types ready for the demo, as there are other tasks that have higher priority, but the plan is to have the same three body types with two hairstyles that we had in the first game by the time we’re ready for launch!^^

Another cool thing we worked on this month is the player’s dorm room. Josefine did a wonderful job designing a room that changes depending on who you choose as a roommate. Can you guess which one is Soren’s and which is Nina’s? :P

Jesper is in full swing composing music for the demo, so here’s a sample with this month's header image speed paint!

That’s about it for this month, so we’ll just leave the pre-launch page for our Kickstarter here if you still haven’t seen it. We’re almost at 200 followers!^^

Thank you so much for following our journey! And we’ll see you in May for another DevLog!

Cheers!

- The Galdra Team

#arcadia fallen #visual novel #kickstarter #indiegame #vndev #vn development #indiedev #galdra studios

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siriuslysatorusimping · 7 months ago

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Semi-Grade (Another Level - Installment 4)

Summary:

“Rinko-chaaaan,” Gojo’s voice in her phone called, a smirk still in his voice. “Did you hear me? You’re gonna be a Semi-Grade 1." “You’re a manipulative bastard,” she said drily. “Technically, I agreed to this under duress.” “That so?” he hummed, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Big talk from the slut who still didn’t tell me to stop.” He had her there. He’d asked her color whenever he thought it might be too much, which was often. She’d said green every single time.

AN: I once again combined the two parts into one. So this is the entirety of the installment. Say 'fuck you' to the old geezer, everyone 😂

Also, don't let the header fool you, Gojo and Rinko still gettin' a lil spicy in this one 👀👀

Prev - Let Me Know You | Another Level Masterlist | Kiko's Masterlist | Next - Seeing Double ->

Semi-Grade 2010

“Why am I not surprised to see that you put your number in my phone?”

She could hear his lighthearted laughter as she paid for her sweet plum senbei. He’d also named the contact ‘Best Friend 💦🥵😍Satoru.’ The photo was him holding up a stupid peace sign, sunglasses in place, and a giant goofy grin on his face. She’d officially learned to never leave her phone near him without supervision.

“You’re welcome!” he said, a smile in his voice. “It’s good to hear from you too!”

“Gojo,” she said, a warning in her voice.

As much as she enjoyed his antics, she was wary of him calling her so suddenly.

“What do you want?”

“Well, since you asked,” he hummed. She felt her eyes narrow as he spoke. “I want your tight pussy-”

“Tell me that isn’t why you called me,” she deadpanned, ignoring the small spark in her cunt at his statement. She’d been planning on having a nice day to herself, buying some groceries, and making a simple dinner before she spent the evening watching TV. They’d had maybe a single conversation that didn’t end with him inside of her, taking her apart. And that was the opposite of the simple, relaxing, solo evening she had planned. “Because if it is, I’m hanging up.”

Pushing past a small group blocking the path, she approached the last stand she needed to visit before leaving.

“Wait!” he called, and she let out a heavy sigh. Waiting for him to continue, she pointed at the fresh takenoko bamboo shoots and held up three fingers. “That isn’t why I’m calling. Though, if you’re offer-”

“Goodbye, Gojo.”

“Wait-!”

She hung up, stuffing her phone back into her pocket as she accepted the bag containing her vegetables.

“Can I get four of the kamo eggplants as well?” she asked, already pulling her money out as they nodded. “Thank you.”

The bruises had finally faded from her neck, having taken two weeks to fully disappear. Not that she was complaining too much. Her uniform covered them almost completely, and when she wasn’t working, it was cold enough to justify the large, bulky scarves she wore. And just a bit of effort to hide the bruises he’d sucked onto her neck was well worth the absolute ruin he’d inflicted upon her to earn them.

Not only had she been right when she assumed she wouldn’t be able to leave first thing the next morning, but he’d somehow - it wasn’t that big of a mystery - convinced her to stay the entire weekend in his bed.

She ordered some yakitori to hold her over until dinner, taking a bite as she continued walking home. The small smile that had been tugging at her lips since she’d seen his contact when he called finally won out, and she released a quiet chuckle as she munched on her snack.

He was absolutely insufferable. But she knew he would say the same about her.

The sound of her phone ringing again made her roll her eyes. Answering it wordlessly, she waited for him to speak.

“That was rude, Rinko-chan,” Gojo said, a pout in his voice now. “But I’ll forgive you this time.”

She stayed silent still, waiting for him to get to the point.

“I have some great news!” he finally continued. “Kurisaki Rinko will be a Semi-Grade 1 sorcerer by the end of the week!”

Her eyes narrowed, remembering how he’d gotten her to agree to let him recommend her promotion.

“Do you need to cum, Rinko-chan?” his voice asked, his teeth biting at her ear. His hips didn’t stop moving, continuously hitting that sweet spot inside her that made her feel like she was being ripped apart. “Hm?”

Her moan made him chuckle, fingers speeding up as he rubbed her clit insistently.

He’d tied her hands to the headboard, a smug grin on his face as he said that he’d untie her when she agreed to accept his recommendation.

“Tell me what I wanna hear,” he murmured, moving to her neck to suck her sweaty skin between his lips. “Just a few simple words, Rinko-chan.”

“You’re such a manipulative-”

The slap to her clit made her back arch into him, a scream falling from her lips as she fought against the ties at her wrists. He groaned deep in his throat when she clenched around him desperately, still tugging on her arms.

“Give in, baby,” he growled, thrusting into her harshly and stilling as he nudged against her cervix. “I can leave you on the edge all night long, sweetheart. Make you my personal little cumslut and not let you cum once.”

Her whine was long, prompting a single, deep thrust as he grinned down at her. His eyes were bright, shining down at her sinfully as he delighted in her completely wrecked state.

“You know you want to,” he taunted, his face just a breath away. A laugh escaped him when she unconsciously tried to lean up to kiss him. “Come on, baby. You know what I wanna hear. You need to cum? Want me to kiss you?”

She slammed her head back against the bed, another moan escaping as he started to move slowly. The head of his cock brushing her gspot was just enough to send a shiver through her.

It wasn’t going to work, she’d told herself stubbornly when he’d started his game. He wasn’t that good. His ego sure as hell didn’t need the boost. She wasn’t going to let him fuck her into agreeing to-

A sharp thrust, paired with another slap to her clit and him biting her neck had her relenting in a broken sob.

“Fine!” she cried, her body shaking with the pain and pleasure combination. “I’ll accept it. I’ll let you recommend me! Please just- fuck!”

He’d leaned back as she finally gave in, a smug grin on his face as he sped back up and rubbed tiny, quick circles on her clit.

“Good girl,” he cooed, capturing her lips with his, pulling her tongue into his mouth and sucking on it. “Such a good girl. Cum for me.”

She whimpered against his lips, her body falling over the edge so quickly she barely registered it happening. The pulses of her cunt squeezing him pulled a low groan from him, and he let out a cruel laugh when she tried to pull her hips away from his fingers still teasing her clit.

“Keep going, baby,” he murmured, pecking her lips sweetly. His eyes were glinting as he leaned back just enough to stare into hers. “You’re gonna keep cumming for as long as you held out.” The mirth in his eyes made hers widen. “That’s right, sweetheart, you held out for so long. Did such a good job edging yourself. Now, you get rewarded for giving me what I wanted.” He paused his thrusts to grind his hips against hers. “Now, be a good little slut and take it.”

“Rinko-chaaaan,” Gojo’s voice on her phone called, a smirk still in his voice. “Did you hear me? You’re gonna be a Semi-Grade 1.”

“You’re a manipulative bastard,” she stated drily. Ripping another bite of meat from the skewer in her hand, she willed herself to keep her thoughts from how many times he’d forced her to cum that night. She’d screamed her throat raw, unable to form coherent thoughts as he wrung her dry. Her clit had been a swollen, overused bundle that hurt by the time he was done with her. “Technically, I agreed to this under duress.”

“That so?” he hummed, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Big talk from the slut who still didn’t tell me to stop.”

He had her there. He’d asked her color whenever he thought it might be too much, which was often. She’d said green every single time.

“When’s my first assignment?” she asked, changing the subject. “Who am I shadowing?”

“Tomorrow,” he replied, his amused tone telling her he knew exactly what she was doing. “And you’ll be with Nanamin, just like I said you would.”

“Am I supposed to wait until he contacts me?” She stopped walking, taking the final bite of her snack and tossing the wooden stick into the nearby trashcan. “Or are you giving me the details?”

“Both,” he replied, voice still amused. “I’m calling to tell you that you can meet me afterward, if you don’t take too long, for dinner.”

“Am I staying here or coming there?” she asked, immediately regretting her choice of words. “Don’t you even dare say what I know you want to say.”

She’d opened the door, but she was slamming it right back shut. Still, her lips curled up in a smile when he let out a knowing laugh.

“Fine, fine,” he relented, still chuckling. “Here. This one will be a two-parter, so you’ll need to be here for a few days. You can stay with me if you want.”

“Why do I feel like this is a ploy to trick me into bed with you?” she teased, her smile growing when he scoffed.

“Baby, I don’t need to trick you into my bed,” his mock offense was driven home by his haughty tone. “You’ll come to my bed willingly, and we both know it.”

Most likely, she mused to herself. But she hadn’t really poked at him in a while.

“Maybe Nanami will offer-”

His growl was quiet, but she heard it, and she would deny the twitch her pussy gave at that sound until the day she died. It was somehow more fun to rile him up the more she got to know him.

“If you want to be bored to death,” he replied, his voice nonchalant. There was a dull edge to it that was quickly sharpening. “I’m sure he’d love to have you. But I know you wouldn’t leave me hanging on my birthday, Rinko-chan.”

Raising her eyebrows, she pulled her phone away from her ear to look at the date, realizing that he wasn’t joking. His birthday was tomorrow.

“Hm,” she murmured, climbing the stairs of her apartment building. “I supposed I can try to squeeze you in tomorrow evening. Think you can fit me into your busy schedule?”

He hummed, voice immediately losing its edge.

“Baby, for you?” his voice was teasing. “I’d clear the whole damn thing.”

Unlocking her door, she let out an exaggerated scoff. Setting her groceries down, she began to put away the ones she didn’t need for her dinner.

“Oh?” she asked, opening her senbei and crunching on one absently, uncaring that he could certainly hear it. “I guess I should feel honored that you’d be so willing to let me skip the line.”

Now he was laughing, she could hear him muffling his chuckles unsuccessfully and then him apologizing to someone.

“Jealous, baby?” he taunted, the playful lilt to his voice making her roll her eyes. “Wish there wasn’t a line?”

Weirdly enough, she suddenly realized she wasn’t. That had her freezing in her task, bamboo shoots inches above the countertop. It was something about their casual teasing and his insistence to become her friend that had her smiling slightly, an odd fondness overtaking her.

He wasn’t exactly a manwhore, he didn’t have the time for that. But she knew he wasn’t celibate either, and she found herself not caring as much as she thought she might.

Then again, that could have something to do with the fact that after the first time they’d had sex, she didn’t think it would be happening again.

“No,” she admitted, surprise coloring her voice as she said it aloud when she realized she hadn’t responded to him. “I actually don’t.”

There was a pause, one she assumed meant his eyes were narrowing as he tried to figure out if she was telling the truth.

“Huh,” he finally breathed. “That’s good, I guess. Wow.”

“Don’t tell me you want me to be jealous?” she asked, resuming her task. She put her phone on speaker as she set it down on the countertop. Even though she got a rush when he acted a bit jealous as well. But maybe it was the insult to his pride in thinking someone could be better. She did like to poke at that aspect quite a bit. It made the sex so much better when he had a little bit of aggression pent up towards her. “This isn’t-”

“No,” he cut her off, his voice serious now. “I’m just surprised. But that makes it easier. I’m glad we don’t have to go through any… I’m glad we’re on the same page already, I guess. I don’t usually-” He stopped for a moment, his voice muffled as he replied to someone’s question. “I’ll be honest with you, I don’t usually see someone more than once.”

She raised her eyebrows, giving her phone a look of disbelief.

“Gojo,” she said, scoffing again. “You don’t need to bullshit me-”

“I’m serious,” he cut her off again. “I’ll make you a deal. Because I said I want to be your friend - and I meant that by the way - I won’t lie to you about this shit. If you’ll agree to the same. Occasional, casual sex, and we let the other know if that changes or something happens.”

Tilting her head to the side, she mulled his words over. He made it sound too easy, just like recommending her for Grade 1.

“Kurisaki?” he asked, and she realized she’d been completely silent. “You there?”

“Yeah,” she called, walking back to her phone and staring down at the stupid contact picture he’d taken. “Kinda unclear though, what do you mean by if anything changes? Like, if we have a partner we think may have given us something?”

“Or if you get a boyfriend,” he replied easily, and she could almost picture him shrugging. “Any change. But yeah, definitely safety. I always use condoms, but-”

“Always, huh?” she asked, cutting him off with a smirk. “Pretty sure-”

“Okay,” he cut her off in return, defensive. “It was- you agreed-”

Her laughter made him trail off, and now she just knew he was scowling.

“I’m just messing with you,” she said lightly, finishing her task and getting out a cutting board so she could start dinner. “You said you were clean and I believe you, and I have an implant. But yeah, I typically use condoms, too. So we should be fine.”

A thought occurred to her, and she couldn’t help but giggle as she wondered how to word her question.

“Okay,” she began, almost dissolving into giggles. “This is such a stupid fucking question,” she heard him let out an annoyed sigh as he waited for her to continue. “But indulge me for a second-”

“Yes,” he deadpanned, but he did sound amused too. “If you’re asking if my reverse cursed technique could counteract STDs. I’ve never tried, but with how it works, yes-”

She finally lost the fight, her laughter bubbling out of her loudly as she leaned against the countertop, wheezing and clutching her stomach. Why it was so funny to her, she would never know, but it just tickled something in her that found it hilarious.

“You literally have a free card to be such a manwhore,” she wheezed, her giggles still making it hard to breathe. “It’s like an asshole’s dream come true.”

“Excuse me,” he snapped, sounding offended. “I still need to be careful because it doesn’t exactly prevent pregnancies. And it’s not like I’ve confirmed that it actually works against- stop laughing!”

“Sorry!” she gasped, gaining control of herself with some effort. “I just- it’s so funny to me. I’ve heard so many men complain how they hate how condoms feel and you’re out here choosing to wear them like some kind of masochist-”

“You’re enjoying this too much,” he said, the irritation in his voice sobering her. “Do we have a deal or not?”

“It’s a deal,” she agreed, taking a deep breath to ensure her giggles were gone. “Though I guess there isn’t much of a point for you, but I appreciate the idea of communicating like adults. So it’s a deal.”

“Good.” He was quiet for a moment before she heard him say under his breath, “You’re such a fucking tease, you know that?”

Raising her eyebrows, she looked down at her phone in confusion.

“Me?” she asked, trying to remember what she’d done. “Wait, what did I do?”

He was silent for a minute, and she wondered if she’d actually made him mad.

“Fuckin,” he groaned quietly. “Got me thinkin’ about how you feel wrapped around my cock.”

Another laugh escaped her, even as she felt her cunt twitch.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she teased. “Did having the responsible conversation about safe sex and-”

“You weren’t just talking about that,” he countered, his voice stern. “You were talking about how it feels to not wear a condom and what else am I gonna think about except your tight cunt wrapped around me like a goddamn vice?”

Her jaw dropped open, a rush of heat running through her now, her underwear suddenly sticking to her uncomfortably.

“That sounds like a you problem,” she said, keeping her voice even. “I am thinking about my dinner.”

“Oh, I’ll fucking show you how it’s your problem,” he whispered, the words sending a shiver through her. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Rinko-chan.”

He hung up without waiting for her to reply, leaving her grinning as she continued prepping her veggies.

“How did it go?”

Gojo had been waiting for her when she exited Yaga’s office, falling into step with her easily when she brushed past him.

“As if you weren’t listening in,” she teased, tossing him a look over her shoulder. “But it went fine. It was just tedious.”

It had been a bit textbook if she was honest. A few dozen Grade 3 curses in an old apartment building that was scheduled for renovation. It had been simple but tedious.

Nanami had called her the previous evening not long after she’d gotten off the phone with Gojo. He’d informed her that he would meet her at the Shinjuku metro stop early the next morning, meaning she would need to catch the first train to Tokyo.

His monotone voice had been unsurprised that she’d already been informed of her soon-to-be Semi-Grade 1 status, but he still went through the basics to remind her of the steps.

As a Semi-Grade 1, she would be accompanying him on at least half of his missions for a minimum of six months. After that six-month period, depending on performance, she’d be reevaluated. If she was up to par, an exam would be scheduled in the form of a solo exorcism of a Grade 1 curse. Upon successfully completing that, she would officially be a Grade 1 jujutsu sorcerer.

She knew the steps, but she was still reeling from the idea that she was actually getting a chance to go through them. Part of her knew that she could be expecting a disgruntled call very soon.

Pulling her scarf tighter, she walked faster, wanting to escape the cold that had been seeping into her since the moment she’d stepped off the metro to greet Nanami that morning. She’d been bleary-eyed and exhausted, having had to rush to catch the metro after her train from Kyoto had been delayed. It wasn’t much, but it had been enough to stress her already fraying nerves.

Gojo matched her stride easily, his long legs having no trouble keeping pace as they reached the car Yaga was lending her during her stay.

“Dinner?” he asked, leaning down to cage her against the driver’s side door. “Or did you get dinner with Nanami already?”

Rolling her eyes, she gave his chest a light shove, surprised when he relented so easily.

“I need to shower,” she stated, pointing an accusatory finger at him when he grinned. “Alone. I mean it. I’m gross and sweaty and cold after today, and I just want a hot shower. And then maybe dinner. I’m fucking exhausted.”

“We can stay in,” he said, his hands going to her waist. Pulling her closer, his right hand went to her ass, massaging it as he spoke. “I can grab something while you shower.”

“Just let me go to my hotel-”

“Rinko-chan,” he cut her off, leaning down again so his face was just a breath away. “We both know that while you’re not on assignment with Nanami, you won’t be at that damn hotel.”

Her breath stuck in her throat as he grinned at her, his blindfold doing nothing to hide that he was watching her every reaction.

“You can shower at my place while I get the food.” His grin grew. “It’s nicer than a hotel’s anyway.”

Sighing, she gave a small nod. He leaned in to press his lips to hers, slipping his tongue into her mouth briefly, teasingly, and then withdrew as quickly.

“I’ll see you there,” he whispered. “Park in the garage, spot 4.”

Giving her ass a light squeeze, he smirked when she swatted his hand before disappearing as he warped away.

She shook her head before taking a deep breath and climbing into the car. As she started the engine, she plugged in the address for his condo. The last time she’d been there, he had been the one to take her to the train station to go home, and he’d warped them to get there to begin with.

When she pulled into the parking garage, she somehow wasn’t surprised that the spot he’d specified was near the top, making the walk to his door almost nonexistent.As she grabbed her bag from the backseat, she heard the ping of her phone.

Gojo 🙄😈💦| key is in your back pocket

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she felt her pockets to find the small key tucked inside her pants. As she retrieved it, her eyes narrowed when she realized he must have slipped it there when he’d been groping her ass.

I feel like I should be worried at how easily you did that. |

Gojo 🙄😈💦| ;) Gojo 🙄😈💦| what can i say? Gojo 🙄😈💦| i’m good with my hands

Shaking her head, she chose to ignore his last text, walking into the building and through the small lobby that led to his front door. It was nice. Expensive. She’d looked the complex up out of curiosity when she��d gotten home, only to find that it cost a hefty fortune to purchase a condo that nice.

He was a rich boy if there ever was one.

Though, she mused as she unlocked his door and stepped inside, Special Grades were paid well. Even if she didn’t know the exact numbers, she knew that they made a small fortune for each job. On top of the fact that they received a consistent salary whether they went on exorcisms or not.

She made a beeline to the master bathroom, starting the shower and turning it to the hottest it could go. As steam filled the room, she pulled the leggings and oversized sweater from her overnight bag, shedding her dirty clothes and shoving them into the bottom.

As she climbed into the shower, she sighed deeply at the feel of the boiling hot water against her skin. It was ridiculously cold outside, and the majority of their mission had ended up involving chasing the Grade 3s around the outer hallways of the construction site. She felt like the chill would never leave. But as she stood under the spray, her muscles relaxed, and she reached for the shampoo he had sitting on the ledge.

He’d told her last time that she was welcome to use any of his products, which she fell in love with and then immediately forced herself to fall out of love with when she found out how much they cost.

Again, he was a rich boy to the core of his being.

Taking her time, she stayed in the shower longer than she needed to because it felt so relaxing. The rainwater showerhead made it feel like a luxury, and she had to admit that was one of the things that had her relenting earlier.

The hotel that Jujutsu Tech had booked for her could never.

Smirking to herself, she dried off slowly, slipping her sweater over her head and pulling on a pair of boyshorts and her leggings. Toweling her hair dry, she allowed herself a heavy sigh of annoyance when her phone rang.

Just because she’d been expecting it didn’t mean she was ready for it.

Holding the phone to her ear, she tossed her towel into Gojo’s overflowing hamper in the corner and waited.

“You knew this wasn’t going to go over well.”

She released another heavy sigh, making sure her phone picked it up.

“Don’t sigh at me, girl,” Yoshinobu scolded, his voice quiet. “You do know this isn’t going to go over well.”

“That’s why I’m sighing,” she replied, combing her fingers through her wet hair to brush it. “I’m surprised it took you this long to call me to give me an earful-”

“Wouldn’t have to if you had just told me yourself,” he cut her off in a stern voice. “What are you doing getting mixed up with Gojo Satoru? Better yet, what did you do to have him so damn insistent to get you to Grade 1?”

An excellent question, she thought to herself as she took a seat on the edge of his bed. Yoshinobu would have a damned heart attack if he knew where she was now.

“Couldn’t tell you,” she replied honestly, still not even sure herself. “But he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer when I tried to refuse.”

“Well,” Yoshinobu scoffed quietly. “It’s because he knew you’d be a fool to turn down a recommendation from him.”

The small smile that pulled at her lips was stamped down immediately.

Gakuganji was a hardass, grouchy old man. And he answered to the higher-ups, mainly her family, but he did care about her. He’d made that clear throughout her time in school. But his loyalties had to lie in preserving his own skin at the end of the day.

Still, it was slightly comforting to hear him tell her indirectly that he approved of her recommendation.

“I’m well aware,” she said quietly. Finally giving up on her hair, she focused instead on fidgeting with the ends of her sweater. “It’s my only shot, yeah?”

“A risky one, though,” he agreed indirectly again. “I’ll be getting another call in the next few hours. News has traveled quickly. They aren’t happy. But they can’t go against Gojo, at least not openly. They’d make it far too obvious that they’re purposefully impeding your promotion if they did.”

Nodding her head, she let out another sigh.

“How far you think I’ll make it?”

It was the question that had been swirling in her mind since she’d heard Gojo’s voice excitedly telling her she was Semi-Grade 1. While she knew that she was skilled enough to make it, she also knew that her father and the Zenin clan would go to great lengths to keep her as far away from success as possible.

“Realistically?” Yoshinobu sounded reluctant to answer. “You’re more than capable. But-”

“They’re also more than capable of stonewalling it.”

“You got lucky,” he argued. “Your official committee is going to have Yaga and Nanami on it, as well as Mei Mei-”

“But,” she pressed, knowing he was hedging. “Who else?”

“Ogi,” Yoshinobu finally relented.

“Dodged one bullet right into another,” she muttered. “Ogi is more level-headed than Jinichi, at least.”“And they’re all angry,” he countered. “Watch your back, Kurisaki. They might not care to stay on official channels for this.”

“You think they’ll put out a hit on me over this?” she asked, trying to tell herself she was surprised. But she wasn’t. Feeling the sadness settle in her chest, she realized she was far from surprised. She suddenly remembered the threat they'd given her years prior, worry settling in her gut. “My mother-”

“Will be in danger,” he confirmed. “More so than you.”

“If I withdraw now-”

“You’ll only solidify the weakness they want to take advantage of.” His voice was stern again, and she knew he was right. “If you withdraw now, you’ll only confirm that they can control you with fear.” He was quiet for a moment. “I’ll talk to Mei Mei, she keeps an ear to the ground when it comes to high-paying hits. But you can’t give it up now. If you do, you’ll only be throwing away the only chance you’ll ever have.”

Her heart clenched, knowing that now more than ever she needed to focus on her technique.

“What do I do?” her voice was quiet, feeling desperation threatening to swallow her. “How am I supposed to-”

“You stay calm,” Yoshinobu stated, his voice harsh, just like it had been when she was in school. “You don’t let them get to you. And you focus on yourself. These assignments with Nanami aren’t a joke. You can still get yourself killed if you’re too worried about other things.”

She couldn’t fight the frown as he spoke, knowing he was right. Letting out another heavy sigh, she clenched her jaw.

“So my only option is to make it.”

“Always has been,” he replied, voice still unforgiving. “Name a time when that wasn’t the case?”

The call ended soon after, with him reminding her to watch her back and her snapping at him to worry about his own skin.

Pushing herself to her feet, she tossed her phone back onto Gojo’s bed behind her. Shoving the anxiety down, she resolved to visit her mother as soon as she was home again.

Yoshinobu would let her know if Mei heard anything about a hit put out on her mother. Hell, Mei would likely reach out to her directly if something like that popped up.

As she exited Gojo’s room, she saw him placing takeout containers on the large island in the middle of his kitchen. He turned when she entered, pulling his blindfold down briefly to show her how he looked her over.

“No bra,” he mused, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Still mad about last time?”

His teasing made her roll her eyes because yes she was, actually. He’d ruined her favorite, most comfortable bra.

“What’d you get?” she asked, ignoring his question and moving to peer into one of the large paper bags he’d yet to empty. “I’m hungry.”

He hummed, caging her against the island and leaning down to press his lips to the left side of her neck. Inhaling deeply, he moaned as he sucked a mark onto her skin.

“You smell like my soap,” he grumbled, letting his tongue flick out and caress the spot he’d just released. “Fuck, I’m fucking starving-”

“I am eating real food,” she stated firmly, biting her lip against the moan that bubbled in her throat when he bit her neck teasingly. “I’m serious. I haven’t eaten since before lunch, and whatever this is smells delicious-”

“Fuck yeah, it does,” he moaned against her neck. His hands grasped her hips, pulling her back to grind against his crotch, his cock pressing against her back insistently. “You can eat, baby, but let me at least have a taste to hold me over-”

She swatted his hands, turning quickly in his grasp and poking a finger into his chest.

“You are literally impossible,” she retorted, her eyes narrowing when he pouted at her. “Gojo-”

“It’s my birthday,” he whined, nuzzling his face into her neck again and she laughed at that.

“What are you, eight?” she asked, unable to keep from teasing him. “Who even says that about their birthday-” she cut herself off, grasping his hair and tugging him back gently so she could look him directly in the blindfold. “You’re an only child, aren’t you?”

His ears turned pink, and he shrugged his shoulders as she started laughing again. “I fucking knew it! Of course you are. An only child to one of the big three. And you were born with the Six Eyes and Limitless? No fucking wonder you’re such an asshole.”

Setting aside the very glaring fact that she was, technically, also an only child, she pressed on.

Gojo was pouting at her dramatically now, and she let out an exaggerated sigh. Taking a step forward, she placed her hands on his chest and forced him to step back until his hips were resting against the counter opposite the island. Pulling his blindfold down, she held his gaze with hers as she sank to her knees slowly.

“But I guess I’ll cut you some slack since it is your birthday,” she murmured, unbuckling his belt and quickly unzipping his pants. “But then you’re letting me actually eat some fucking food.”

His eyes were wide as he stared down at her, mouth parted in surprise. She freed his cock, fisting it tightly for a moment, watching his eyelids drop as she did.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hands threading into her hair as she gave his leaking tip small kitten licks, savoring the taste of his precum. “Shit, baby-”

He cut himself off with a deep groan when she opened her mouth and eased him in slowly. Licking along the underside of length as she took him, she let out a moan when he touched the back of her throat.

“Oh my fucking-” he almost choked when she continued, taking another deep breath through her nose as she relaxed her throat until her nose was just nudging his pelvis. “Fuck, Rinko!”

Moaning again, she eased him back out, letting her teeth just barely scrape along the thick vein on the underside as she did so. Flexing her jaw, she felt a satisfying pop from her joints as she shifted them around to adjust to the strain. He was bigger than she was used to, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Yeah?” she asked, blinking up at him slowly, smirking when he just stared back silently. “You wanna fuck my throat? Hm? Think you can handle it?”

Without waiting for a reply, she pulled him between her lips again, sucking his head lightly like a lollipop. His broken moan was paired with his hands tightening in her hair, fingers digging into her scalp as he thrust into her mouth.

“Fucking perfect,” he grit out, eyes going hazy as he stared down at her. Thrusting again, he nudged the back of her throat roughly, tears jumping to her eyes at the feeling. “Taking me so good, baby- shit!”

She swallowed around him, blinking quickly to clear the moisture from her eyes.

He seemed to take that as her sign to keep going, using his grip on her hair to slam into her repeatedly, his head falling back with a low moan. She whimpered around him in response, closing her eyes as she focused on relaxing her throat and breathing through her nose. Tonguing the underside of him occasionally, she smirked internally at how wrecked he sounded.

“Gonna cum,” Gojo rasped a few minutes later, his thrusts growing choppy. “Fucking- oh fuck, Rinko. Baby-”

He tried to pull back, but she grasped his hips, hollowing her cheeks and sucking harder. Feeling smug, she refused to release him as he stuttered, cock twitching wildly as he came down her throat. His moan was long, low, and broken as she swallowed around him, letting out her own moan at the taste.

As she felt the last of his cum coat her mouth, she released him with a pop. Catching her breath, she wiped the drool and cum that had dripped down her chin with the bottom of his shirt. A satisfied smirk overtook her when she looked up, seeing his dilated pupils and heaving chest.

“Happy birthday,” she murmured smugly. “You enjoy yourself?”

He let out a feral growl, using his grip on her hair to yank her up so he could shove his tongue into her mouth. Teeth knocking against hers, he groaned again when he tasted himself on her tongue as it massaged his. One hand moved from her hair down her back to grip her ass, already trying to push her leggings down.

“Ah,” she chided, pulling away and pressing her hands against his chest when he tried to follow. “I said I was going to eat some real food afterward, and I meant it. Just needed an appetizer.”

Smirking up at him, she skillfully removed herself from his grasp. Tucking him back into his pants and zipping them up, she turned and went back to peer into the takeout containers on the island. Digging through the bag, she discovered he’d gotten them Thai food. She hummed excitedly as she pulled the plastic forks and spoons from the bottom of the bag before opening one of the containers.

Turning back around, she saw him still staring at her, dumbfounded.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice teasing.

Taking a small bit of rice on her spoon, she soaked it in the green curry and did a tiny dance at the flavors on her tongue. She took another bite before she realized he was still just staring at her silently, and her face scrunched.

Growing worried, she felt the dread begin to build at his continued silence. Part of her, a loud part, was beginning to worry she’d done something wrong. Her fingers began fidgeting with the spoon in her hands, willing herself to stay calm.

“Gojo?” her voice sounded small, and she cleared her throat. Taking another deep breath, she fought to hide the anxiety bubbling to the surface. “Did I-?”

He seemed to snap out of his trance as she spoke, moving to cage her against the island again.

“You can eat,” he murmured, leaning down to press his lips to the skin just below her ear. “But after?” He ground his hips into hers, letting her feel how he was already hard again. “You’re mine.”

Hiding her moan with a hum, she let her head fall to the side briefly. Her confidence was returning quickly with his tongue teasing her skin and making her feel dizzy. She could feel her boyshorts sticking to her now, a fresh rush of slick escaping when he nipped her neck repeatedly.

Still, she couldn’t help but mess with him further, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek and moving around him.

“If you think you can handle it, Gojo,” she hummed, searching his cabinets until she located a bowl. Shoveling rice in the bottom, she poured the curry over top and took a seat on one of the stools on the other side of the counter. “You look like you could use the breather, anyway.”

Her pussy twitched when his eyes narrowed, and he clenched his jaw.

“Careful,” he warned, watching her hum contentedly. “Don’t get all cocky-”

“Too late,” she said, watching him round the counter until he was next to her, wrapping his arms around her middle. His chin rested on her right shoulder, fingers intertwining just above her left hipbone. She held her plastic fork up threateningly, her own eyes glaring at him in warning. “I am serious about eating. So if you don’t let me eat, I’ll use this fork to-”

“I’m gonna let you eat,” he said, exasperated. A small smile tugged at his lips when she nodded, her eyes narrowing at him seriously. “But I mean it when I say I hope your little game is worth it. Because when you’re done eating?” He paused to lick at the lobe of her ear slowly. “I’m having dessert.” Emphasizing his statement with a harsh bite, pulling a surprised yelp from her. “And then I’m gonna fucking wreck you.”

Turning back to her bowl, she hummed as she chewed.

“Big promise from someone who was an absolute mess from just my mouth a few minutes ago.” Watching his face from the corner of her eye, she continued. “You taste delicious, by the way.”

His hands flexed against her side, nostrils flaring and letting her know she was really testing his self-control.

Turning her head, she accepted his kiss, allowing the quiet moan to escape when his tongue gently probed her mouth. He moved against her slowly, lazily, for just a few moments and then he pulled away.

“You’re a fucking menace,” he grunted, pecking her lips once more before removing his arms and getting his own bowl.

Returning to her side and sitting on the stool to her left, he rolled his eyes at her wide grin.

“You like it,” she teased, nudging his shoulder with her own. “You can’t tell me otherwise.”

Chuckling, he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.

“Makes dessert that much sweeter,” he muttered, watching her pause midchew before she smirked subtly, resuming her happy food dance.

AN: I am too lazy to make the same graphics I occasionally make for the texts right now... 🫠

Next - Seeing Double

#gojo satoru x original female character #gojo satoru fanfic #another level #gojo fanfic #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #goinko #goinko another level #gojo smut #goinko smut

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markipliers-madhouse · 1 year ago

Text

Hello? Hello Hello?

...Well, this place has been dead for a little bit, hasn't it?

Mentioned a little bit before on that collab piece I did, but figured I'd be better to do a full post bout it here!

So, this AU...has been laying dormant for quite some time, and there's not really any excuses for that. I've just been a little busy with school and life in general, but mainly...haven't had much motivation to do it in all honesty, and their's two main factors to that unmotivation.

1. I kinda realized I'd be needing to write a lot for this story, and though I love writing in general...the scope of this would be like writing a few novels if I continued on, and I just wouldn't have the time or sanity to do that, but more on that later for a solution...

And 2. ...I kinda fell out of FNaF for a moment. Well- Not entirely, I'll always love this series, but I guess it was mainly...the state of the fandom after one certain game...Security Breach. After that game came out, it kinda broke the fandom in half. One half being those who hate the game and left the franchise entirely, now seeing it as nothing but for kids and not taken seriously, and the other...well, actually kids. Y'know the ones. You know.

So that kinda left me kinda unsure for my AU, since I thought if I put stuff out now...it wouldn't really be that appreciated. From the start it was meant to harken back to the original classics of FNaF, but with the fandom mostly filled with newcomers for just this one game, and the original fans gone and unhopeful for the franchise, I just kinda...left this place dorment till I felt motivated again.

...And then the Ruin DLC happened, which gave me a spark of motivation. Seemed this franchise was starting to to head to a better place, getting some old fans back, so that's nice. Got me thinking more bout this AU again...

And then the movie happened, and now i've been slapped in the face with motivation.

SO- Guess that's my excuse for why things have been so empty, but now...I AM READY TO OFFICIALLY SAY IT IS STARTING BACK UP! And not just that...but starting fresh! ...Which, isn't saying much, since I only wrote two chapters for it...y e a h - But there's a reason I'm starting fresh, not just for improved art or retconing some of the mistakes of what I did give out, but mainly because...

I'm turning the AU into a comic!!

That's right! Gonna be drawing the whole thing start to finish! Figured this would be better to me since it's quicker then writing it all, and get to show and improve more of my art, so works out! (You can already kinda see some of that with the new pfp and header) Maybe might get some help in the future, maybe might dable in some animation, maybe a lot of things, but guess we'll just hafta see where it goes from here!

What does that mean for the previous content though? All...f o u r of it? Well, that stuff is gonna be non-canon from here on out! It'll be easier this way since those stuff have either some continuity errors that'll effect the story in the long wrong, or just simply I've changed my mind on some things and it'll be a bit more different! I'm still leaving them up, however! Just cause I think it'll be fun to see how far I've come, and ey some art pieces there weren't bad! ...Too bad...okay like one or two were d e c e n t

TLDR of it tho is this: AU's getting a reboot, gonna be made into a comic now, previous stuff is non-canon, and this page should be a bit more active now!

But yeah! Big things are coming, and I am excited to start up this AU again! I have so many plans for this story that I'm just hoping you guys will love, wanna do justice to both sides of the story! So keep an eye on this blog, might take a little longer, but hoping to get things officially and finally started soon!

And to prove some of that, before I go...you guys deserve a a bit of a sneak peak of what's to come, so...hope you enjoy these redesigns >:]

EDIT: THE SERIES HAS OFFICIALLY BEGUN- READ EM HERE- AH-

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jaypea00101010 · 10 months ago

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Monster Manual Drow are Kinda Boring: Here's Why, and Here's How to Fix Them

I had a big long post planned going through a bunch of monsters in the monster manual and talking about problems with designs, but realised it was a bit rambly, so going to split it up a bit to go into a bit more detail and hopefully come out with something useful.

One of those monsters I was going to discuss, randomly picked by random.org, was the drow. They're not bad, but they could be so much more, so lets have a look.

Drow have 5 features: Fey Ancestry, Innate Spellcasting, Sunlight Sensitivity, and a Shortsword and Hand Crossbow attack.

Before we even get to the features though, it's also worth pointing out a few other things about the drow statblock. It has two skill proficiencies, stealth and perception, perception being a proficiency all player elves get, so a nice way of typing them in, and stealth telling you a bit about how to build a combat using them. They're sneaky and stealthy, and so would prefer staying in the shadows, especailly combined with their darkvision. They also speak two languages: Elvish and Undercommon. This might not be the best fit for all games as you kind of want players to communicate with NPCs, but having them not speak common as a baseline goes a fair way to establishing how apart from the regular world they are. Fey ancestry like perception proficiency links with all elves, though I can't help but feel it's a little boring, just a static defensive buff.

Innate spellcasting is a nice feature, but, while the spells gotten are the same as the player race, typing them together nicely, I don't think these spells should be on the statblock. In my opinion, spells should only be on a statblock if they add something to the fight, otherwise put them in a sidebar or something so DMs won't spend time looking for them to cast and realising they're not good, or just casting them anyway making the creature seem inneffective, MCDM does this great in Flee Mortals! by giving creatures a 'utility spellcasting' header. As it is though, all three of the spells feel out of place on this drow: dancing lights is weird given they seemingly want to be in the shadows, darkness is weird because they can't see through it, and again, if they're hidden, why do they need to stop people seeing them, and finally faerie fire also feels strange as a way to get advantage given again, the stealth proficiency feels like they should be hiding a lot, it works on the statblock as it is, but not what an ideal drow could look like (which we'll get to later).

The shortsword is just a basic attack, it's alright, but the shortbow is so much better, this isn't a bad thing though, it gives them an option if they're forced to get into melee, but also shows the DM that they're intended to fight ranged. The shortbow isn't just a normal shortbow though, on a hit, the target has to make a con save, becoming poisoned for 1 hour on a fail, or falling unconscious if they fail by 5 or more. Like I said this is pretty good, it tells you how they're meant to play, shooting from a distance, but unconscious feels a little too good for a creature this weak, and once you've poisoned a target there's not much reason to keep doing ranged attacks over melee other than that chance of unconscious, as stated making players unconcious just doesn't feel good at all, and while poisoned is good, lasting for just a straight hour also doesn't feel great either.

So what can be done to fix this?

Well, that's what I've tried to do

First, lets figure out what we want to do with this revision. My goal is to focus in on stealth and darkvision, this revision will make drow more sneaky and focused on hiding in darkness, I also want to give more reason to keep using that shortbow and staying at range, rather than just doing to poison and then doing whatever attack they want.

So, how to do it. First lets just completely scrap innate spellcasting. It doesn't add anything to this revision (or the original), so lets get rid of it. Second, lets add something else to encourage that hiding and staying in the darkness. to this end I've added two features: one that lets drow hide even just in dim light or darkness, and then one that lets them hide as a bonus action.

I then reworked the shortbow, instead of forcing a con save, now just doing extra poison damage on a hit, making it already just better than the shortsword, and then if the drow beats the target's AC by 5 or more, it also poisons them until the end of their next turn. This speeds up gameplay a bit, keeping everything on just a hit, and then also encourages the drow to hide. If the drow hides, not only do they have a better chance to hit, but also now to poison, even more encouraging use of the shortbow.

I did also include a variant that's closer to the original poison/unconscious though, for players that want to use it.

My idea is that with these drow, other statblocks (of other drow) could be used to create darkness and shade, to help these drow and feel more cohesive, in fact I made another drow just like that to go along side this revision, so here they both are!

If you've gotten this far and are interested in this kind of thing, come join my discord where I show these things off first and is generally just a great place to discuss 5e homebrew.

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boyfhee · 2 years ago

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𐀔 RED STRINGS OF REWIND | n. riki

PRECIS. you and riki meet again, and again, and again, before you run away from him, only for fate to intertwine your paths, and start from zero, all over again. ( 6.75k )

GENRE. vampire ! riki, mystery, thriller, angst

WARNINGS. mentions of blood, hospitals, murder & deaths, depiction of potentially obsessive behaviour, multiple semi-graphic to graphic descriptions of self-harm, reader is kinda sick in the head both literally and metaphorically, riki is psychotic & he isn't actually a vampire or could be one tbh it depends upon your interpretation, transitions from past to present

NOTE. my cue to dip for next few weeks yawl <3 BTW IM SO PROUD OF THE HEADER BUT TUMBLR RUINED IT AND IT LOOKS WEIRD ON PHONE </3 big thanks to sai ( @jungwonize ) for helping me figure out the characteristics of a vampire pls that legit solved half my issues with this fic and also beta-ing this fr he's so <3 if you don't understand what's happening, i recommend you to read the whole thing because that's the only way for this to make sense. see y'all in a few weeks, happy reading <3

the first time you ran away from riki was when you were five. it was a pleasant day and you were enjoying your evening in the playground downstreet, playing catch with other kids around. an escape wasn’t necessary but you had accidently hurt riki while helping him speed up on the swings. that was the first time you had seen the boy shed tears. ultimately, being the last ones remaining, you saw the sun disappear behind the horizon as his sobs increased, the sand turning red due to blood. at that moment, all you could think of was to run; and so you did.

consequently, you started avoiding him at school. despite being just a kindergarten student, you had a keen eye, always looking out for things that could affect you negatively. perhaps, riki made it to that list, and you found yourself noting his every move. you had your eyes on every breath he took, every action, every word. you sat at the bench farthest from his seat in class, yet still your eyes didn’t leave his sight even for a second. you started lying whenever his mother called your mom, saying she was sleeping or simply, not home. you lied about the parents-teacher meeting being cancelled in case your teacher brings up the events from what happened at the park a few days ago.

the same went on for days, weeks even. you saw the everlasting friendship between riki’s and your mom turn shallow, hanging by a thread, on the verge of breaking. you didn’t mean it. the damage, you didn’t want this to turn into something big. your mom has known his mother since her college. being the top students and the best friends they were, they decided to live in the neighbourhood after the death of their husbands. your father died in a car accident. as for riki, from what you recall, his father never existed in the first place.

maybe the gods were on your side because soon after, your mother was fired from her job and luckily enough, your uncle helped her secure a job in the capital. it was nice, living two thousand one hundred and fifty two kilometres away from him, in tokyo, it felt good. you could finally breathe in relief. maybe, you feel bad for your mom since she had to leave her friends. perhaps, a part of you is upset since you had to leave your friends; though, if you had the chance, you would do it all over again.

you wanted to live peacefully. you don’t want people to blame for what happened. you didn't want to be the reason behind the dark blood stained patch on the sand that made the kids shake in fear in the dead of the night.

the second time you ran away from riki was in highschool. it was unbelievable, having him this close to you. you thought you left him behind, in okinawa, however on the first day of highschool, you had him standing in front of you, and you felt your heart sink into a never ending pit of horror. an escape wasn't planned but it was the only way left when he tried to strike a conversation with you. you both were alone in the dance room, a smile plastered on his face as he recalled the events you buried in the past. you felt your heartbeat accelerate, and your first instinct was to run; and so you did.

you spent that day in the cubicle, crying and fighting your anxiety attack. a couple few knocks on the door made their way to you but you didn't respond, knowing you're better off alone.

it felt horrifying to have your past come back to you. having riki standing in front of you was like a nightmare come true. you had noticed the scar of his forehead; reminding you of everything you buried deep, making sure no one would know about it. you wouldn't say you never expected to see him again. your grandparents live on okinawa and every time you visit them, a part of you anticipated seeing the boy somewhere around. it wasn't scary, really, for you don't live in okinawa and riki doesn't know where you live.

things were perfect, better than you had planned initially, since never once did you come across riki in okinawa. you even visited his house, asking neighbours about him and his family. someone said his father came and the family moved to germany with him. however, you knew that was a lie. your mother might've said that his father passed away when he was three, but you know he never had a father in the first place.

so, eleven years later, seeing him all the way in tokyo, attending the same school as you, it was like seeing death on your door. as if the reaper is at your doorstep, asking for your soul. however, your perfect highschool life turned into a pit of hell when the incident you've been hiding resurfaced again and this time, on a public stage.

‘how did you get your scar?’ a student had asked him, and you froze in your seat. the greater gods weren’t on your side since in the second half of second year, riki transferred to your class. you don’t know how that happened— or if it’s even allowed— he just did, and sat right behind you as you felt the situation grip out of your hands day by day. you expected him to disclose the intels to everyone the way he stared into your back. your heart skipped beats whenever his hand brushed past your back, or when he randomly grew a habit to play with your hair in the middle of science lessons. you didn’t think riki had any intentions of ruining things for you; that is, until that question was brought up during self study class.

you heard him shift his eyes on you as he smiled at the question. ‘ah, it’s a long story.’ he had responded. your grip around the pen in your hand tightened. suddenly, geometry was long forgotten and all you could focus on were the words leaving his mouth. ‘i was playing in a park with a friend,’ he continued, and you gripped the measuring compass, pressing its needle into the desk as your pulse surged up. ‘and got injured. the friend, however,’ you felt his gaze settling on your back once again, goosebumps rising at the sudden eerie change in the air. you lifted the divider off the desk, your right hand fisted up so tightly that you felt your nails leave marks on your palm. ‘what about the friend?’ the student asks, and oh how you wished you could wipe them off their curiosity forever.

sitting and letting him continue would be a mistake, like digging your own grave and waiting for someone to bury you. you couldn’t tell him to stop because that’d be no better than showing up at death’s door. ‘the friend, well,’ you felt him digging holes on your back by the way he’s staring at you. you felt him smirking through his words and sitting would be a mistake, so you took the measuring device and pierced through your wrist, making a deep wound that stained your shirt red, the same way riki’s blood stained the sand.

the students gasped, teachers rushed in, you were escorted to the infirmary. no one questioned about the injury, why or how it happened. their questions concerned your wellbeing and nothing else. their eyes were on you while yours were on riki, who waved at you with a smile before turning his attention towards the blood splatter on your desk like a moondrunk monster. that was the third time you ran from riki. an escape was vital and your first instinct was to get away from him; and so you did.

you didn't attend school after that.

the first few days were off as an excuse for your injury. you deliberately went for your dominant hand, knowing it would offer greater impact than any other part. it was a sporadic decision, yet proven to be worth the pain. you had your friends drop notes at your house, occasionally checking up on you as well. but as your hand got better, the reasons to stay home narrowed to a few numbers, ones that you can count on your fingers. so, burdened by the need of the hour, you prepared another plan.

attending school after three weeks would've been amazing if your brother hadn't called the local suicide hotline. it was six-thirty in the morning, you were in your room while your mom had sent your brother to call you for breakfast, only for him to find on your bathroom tiles, all red and pale from the blood loss from your previously injured wrist. you hated him for calling the suicide hotline. it was a wasted move, but you couldn't blame him when he made things easier for you.

news spreads fast, and gossip spreads faster. the details about you were headlines, if anything. while your teachers worried about you for taking such destructive measures, a few of your friends started suspecting that you had gone crazy. one of them saw you stab your own wrist, other heard you mumbling to yourself. you were also spotted staring at riki with your gaze bearing daggers against his neck. an anonymous post from a kindergarten classmate claimed you to be 'obsessive,' briefing about how you used to stare at riki all day, like a predator eyes their prey.

in just two months, the tables turned and you became the 'creepy' one amongst them. soon after, you stopped having visitors. while you declined some of their visits, others stopped caring about you, as if you would come for them next. your days started feeling longer than usual as your stay at the hospital increased. from psychic ward to er and from er to psychic ward, those were your only two destinations for the next few months. bottles of pills and syrups awaited for you thrice a day as the excessive test procedures became your only companion in the house of dead.

you had spent nights laughing and crying about your poor condition. you didn't think you would ever end up this way, between machines and syringes, taking pills as if they constituted a major part of your meals. it was pathetic, almost shameful. you were tired of running. you changed cities to escape riki. now, you're holding death's hand to save yourself from the same boy you thought you had left behind. you had considered quitting altogether at some point. you remember cutting your wrist right above a major artery, making it deep enough to drench the sleeves of your white hospital gown. you expected it to be the last time you would see your mother. however, you woke up amongst tubes and bandages the next morning, feeling weaker than ever.

your eyes fell upon your mother's pale figure, noticing how thin she had gotten since the last time you saw her. a nurse informed you that you had woken up after four days and your mother didn't even drink enough water during that period. that day, for the very first time in years, you wondered about how this might be affecting her.

suddenly, this game about life and death made no sense. running from riki seemed illogical. staying in the four walls of your hospital room started making you feel suffocated. watching your mother fight for your life day and night made you question your ways for the very first time. for the first time, you wondered if what you had been doing was right. you were ready to quit your act, deciding to change your ways, just for your mother, but that was until riki's name showed up on your mother's phone one night. a look at the call log signified that she had been in touch with riki all along, taking almost every day, texting even.

it felt unreal, like a betrayal. sure, your mother doesn’t know a thing about what you had been planning for years, but riki, of all people, it felt like living with a knife up your throat, and you realised that staying with your mother would be an open invitation to let riki into your life again. so, you decided to run again.

2 : 49 am — you had it planned. you left your room eleven minutes before three in the morning, knowing damn well that your mother would have the best sleep of her life with those five pills of temazepam you had managed to get your hands on after the doctor prescribed her a stronger medication for insomnia. somewhere inside, maybe, you felt guilty for deceiving your mother; or more like, overdosing her with sedatives to execute your escape plan. but none of it seemed to stagger you when the thoughts about your mother keeping in touch with riki flooded your mind.

echoing footsteps with moonlight illuminating the empty corridors, it was too late before you realised that you ran in all the wrong directions, trying not to bump into any hospital staff. you had seen it in the movies, but mortuaries always felt creepier than they make it to be in fictions. there’s an eerie glow in the air, one you can’t see but feel as fear crawls up your skin. you ran your fingers over the ice cold walls, strolling through the empty floor, finding your way out. despite the sinister flow in the air, your heart felt at ease, unlike your thoughts running at a thousand miles per second.

you drag yourself towards the elevator, legs almost giving up from the fatigue stacking up inside of you, the lack of food finally surfacing as your blood adorned fingers leave their imprints on the white walls. you were so busy escaping that you didn’t realise when the dressing on your wrist loosened, consequently making the blood drip down your hands everywhere you go. the elevator chimed, marking someone’s arrival, and before you could process the situation, his name fell off your lips.

‘riki—’ you had whispered in fear, stepping away from him as his feet ascended towards you. there was a smile on his face. not that you could see it, for he was looking at the floor, but you heard his faint chuckle spin into the air. ‘you shouldn’t leave any hints if you’re trying to escape,’ he had answered, wiping off a speckle of blood from his lips as his vision sharpened at the sight of the blood streaming down your hand. his antics were beyond your comprehension. maybe, he was the crazier one between the two of you. he called your name, voice pitched low as your breath hitched. another step towards you and you were running away with tears brimming your eyes.

the escape was impromptu, but equally necessary. your sense of direction dissipated as tears blurred your vision, heartbeat pacing up as you heard his footsteps echoing closely behind you. at that moment, you wondered if running away from him for the first time was the right choice. you could’ve helped him reach his home— which was just a few blocks away from yours— maybe, could have explained the whole situation to his mother and owned up to your mistakes. at that moment, the seventeen-year-old you pitied the five year old yn for the direction your life would proceed in after that innocent incident. and again, you could’ve helped him— could’ve— but you chose not to, for the five year old you were petrified at the sight of the boy looking at his own blood lusciously.

a striking pain surged up your ankles, and you found yourself rolling down the stairs; and if you recall correctly, you had screamed. it was more of a shriek, or a shout for help, one that alerted the couple few staff monitoring the mortuary. their muffled voices reached your ears as the pain emerging from your head seemed to nullify all your senses. you don’t remember a lot from that day, except him, or the way he stared at you with a frown sitting on his face as the nurses put you on the stretcher, a frown that morphed into a menacing smile soon before as your mind gave up on keeping you conscious.

which leads to the present day— in nagoya, where you’re living with your mother— surprisingly — doing quite well at twenty-seven, working as a lawyer at a local law firm. there are days when you look in the mirror, letting your eyes fall over all the scars you have given yourself. you let your mind trace over all the dreaded memories from the past, wondering how you made it out. it was quite funny, actually, resorting to death to escape it.

you haven't heard from riki in the past ten years. not that you want to, but he didn't try to contact your mother like he used to. he's just a sweet little kid in your mother's heart who stopped calling her one day. he's just a figment of her memory, or like a wild nightmare for you. you had heard from your mother that riki's mom passed away a few months after he started attending highschool, and that she sent him money every month to support him.

she's upset, but you're glad he's gone. you're thankful to the deities for finally putting him out of your life. your life feels easier. the incident from your childhood no longer sends chills down your spine. your mother looks healthier, you don't walk on eggshells anymore. occasionally, you wake up in the middle of the night, hyperventilating, whenever an incident from the past slips into your mind as a dream, but it’s fine. you have medications for them. you take medicines for anxiety attacks, for migraines, insomnia, and a lot more, honestly. your problems haven’t disappeared. they’re still there, actively being the reason for the tear stains on your pillow. they are still here, inside your mind, or beside you, walking hand in hand to remind you that you aren’t perfect— you never were. despite your perfect grades and physique, you struggle to remember things. you take antidepressants to continue with your profession. it was a fight, a war, maybe; it still is, and will continue to be one, but it feels nice to live this way, as if the universe has offered you a second chance at life. maybe, it was all worth the risk, worth enough for you to do it all over again.

“you’re zoning out again,” a familiar voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and it belongs to jay. his soft laughter spins into the air, mixing with the fragrant vanilla and cinnamon filling the cafe’s atmosphere with its magic. it feels nice to live this way because you have jay.

you had met him in college when you got lost on the campus. it was your second day, after all, and the locked rooms along with the lack of lighting on the deranged floor reminded you of the hospital. you were close to breaking down when you heard footsteps approaching you, accompanied with a concerned voice. that day, he didn’t leave your side even after classes, making sure to drop you home before continuing on the way to his’.

jay is a nice guy. yeah, he teases you a lot, points out your horrible sense of direction in front of your other colleagues, makes fun of the way you whine every time you have to work past the destined working hours, but it’s fine. he helps you whenever possible, has reserved his weekends for you unless work stacks up his desks. he feels like the highschool friend you wanted to have, like the person you would’ve had a crush on in school if he helped you with your assignments. in short, jay is nice, and even being twenty-seven year old with several never-ending issues didn’t stop you from falling for him.

“ah, by the way,” he speaks up again, gaining each and every ounce of your attention. “i won’t be able to drive you home today.”

“it’s fine. i can go by myself." those are the words you tell, however, a part of you feels upset since you planned on asking him for dinner. "honestly, i don’t know why you drive me home when i live just fifteen minutes away.”

“maybe because your directional sense is basically non-existent?” he mocks and you both step out of the cafe, your steps following him to his car. “still, take care. you know that killer is still out there, right?”

“of course,” a pause. you wonder if jay has something to say— and you swear you're not letting your hopes escalate higher than they already are. over the years, you have learnt to wish for the best and that's all you're trying to do right now.

“do you also think he's a vampire?” he asks, referring to the person the team had indicted this morning.

the question leaves you astonished. one wouldn't expect him to bring up a case that isn't his. jay has his habits— a fixed schedule, appointment limits, minding his own business— there are more. so, having him strike a conversation about something that didn't concern him was new. "what?”

“i don’t believe in vampires and all, but have you seen the fang imprints on the victims’ neck? it seems plausible, no matter how much i try to overlook it.” no, really, as an attorney, you could only think of how obscene this all sounds. you have heard about the rumours, they say the culprit is actually a vampire so hunts every wednesday, sucking people off their blood and leaving them to die, thus earning the notorious name; the vampire killer.

at the age of four, riki told you about vampires. he asked you if you knew what they were, and you responded with the classic definition that any other four year-old would've given. 'bad people who drink blood and are scared of the sun' with an uninterested grimace. your brows furrowed as you saw a sour expression settle in his face. that's when he told you another fact about vampires— they have a set target, and they chase it until it's theirs, no matter how long it takes.

you don't recall if he added anything else, not that you understand his words either, but the smirk on his face told you that riki liked vampires, probably a lot more than anyone else did.

“even if he is, they can’t say that in court,” and to be very honest, you don't want to involve yourself in a case that isn't yours either. it simply isn't worth the time. sure, the rumours going around may fuel everyone's curiosity, but not yours.

he sighs, getting into his car before rolling down the windows. “see you tomorrow. let me know if you get lost on your way home,”

“i will,” you affirm with a laugh, watching him drive away as you proceed to your walk back home.

the last time you represented a murder case was ten months ago, never again. you had a hard time dealing with everything. every mention of dead bodies reminded you of him. but you knew it was all your imagination, for riki was never a serial killer. he was just a boy, though with unusual habits, but still just a boy you had known long ago.

yet you still had your suspicion. you spent days wondering if he's schizophrenic or something along those lines, or if psychosis got the best of him. a clearer look into his condition led you to haemophilia— obsession with blood— which is fine, really, not everyone is the same. people are born different, with distinct characteristics. riki happened to be one of the very few; and honestly, he was never the one to fit the crowd.

you halt in the middle of the streets, interrupted by a call that displays 'prosecutor jung' on your phone screen. “hello?”

"attorney yn, you're required to report at the prosecution office urgently."

"right now?" you ask, confused by the sudden request and that too, two hours after your shift is over. "i'm almost home."

"we have, uh, a few things to discuss about the vampire killer case with you. please report as soon as possible."

and the next second, you hear silence devouring the other side of the line. you sigh, texting your mom that you'd be late so she doesn't have to stay up. call it overthinking or parental care, but even at twenty-seven, your mom looks after you like a five year old. you've had your aunts tell you to move out but honestly, you're having a good time living with your mother. it's better than living alone, given your health conditions.

resultantly, you make your way back to the law firm. this time, with a butter face. the extra working hours don't affect you anymore. you've done that a lot and it's a part of job responsibilities at this point. what's has your attention is the topic of concern, the vampire killer, a case you aren't associated with in any way. you haven't even read all the articles they had published regarding the case, and even if you had, you aren't sure if you would change your mind about the case being an utter idiocy.

you arrive at the firm, taking the elevator to the main prosecution office situated on the fourth floor. the building feels lonelier at night, especially with just a few people working in their cabins as even the quietest of sounds fills in the eerie silence. lifts and hallways always remind of the hospital and everything that had happened there. your skin runs cold whenever you find yourself in an alone hallway at night as the urge to run away tries to conquer your mind.

you have learnt to pay it no mind, though, just like now, as you walk up the empty halls while humming a song to put your mind at ease finally arriving at the designed venue.

"attorney yn," she shoots you an exhausted smile, the fatigue evident on her face. "thank you for coming."

you didn’t want to, actually; she forced you to come. and her being your senior, you had to follow her orders no matter how much you loathe it. "it's alright. what did you want to talk about?"

"yes," she turns around to grab a few documents off her desk before turning back to you. "we've been trying to question our prime suspect. however, he refuses to say anything without a lawyer. here are the files—"

"wait," you interject her words, cutting her off mid sentence. "why me? i mean, i'm not a criminal lawyer."

"we'll, you were requested by the suspect." she explains, her words making you freeze in your stance. "he claims to know you and wouldn't accept any other attorney."

you don't ask further questions, or rather, are not allowed to as mrs. jung and her team escorts you to the questioning room. she assures you that you only have to ask a few questions and after that, their lawyer would take over, but honestly, that's none of your concerns at the moment.

you don’t even know the name of the person indicted. they prefer not disclosing it. you haven’t even seen him because of your sheer indifference towards the case. you don’t know anything except that, his victims die of anaemia. you’ve had your suspicion— it’s him— and you’d be lying if you say you didn’t sleep for days when the news broke out. the truth is, you never recovered from the trauma. you claim to have forgotten the boy you used to play for hours with. you say his name doesn’t affect you anymore. however, the mere news about the blood-thirsty killer in the neighbourhood was a spark to your fears, gradually igniting it, and now it burns like a forest.

amidst all, you find yourself standing before the questioning room, ready to go in, and you have your one thing clear : this isn’t about riki. but that’s just something you’re convincing yourself to believe in for your sake.

you open the door, stepping in, eyes wide open at the sight of complete emptiness in the room, except one police official standing in a corner. you sigh in relief, taking a seat, maybe you weren’t just ready to face the suspect; or perhaps, you simply didn’t want to. the officer informs you that the person you’re about to would be back shortly, for he has gone to the washroom. in the meantime, you decide to look through the intels regarding the case, provided in a file handed over by the prosecutor in charge. there’s no picture— or maybe they didn’t add one— which is odd. there are blank spaces all over the pages with very few details written along the lines : suspect is in his late twenties, unemployed, lives alone, is conjectured to be suffering from renfield’s syndrome— those words leave a bitter taste on your tongue.

you don’t know much about that term. actually, scratch that, you don’t know anything about it at all. you don’t think the team handling the case does either, for there’s only scarce information present in the documents given to—

“it’s been a while, yn.” your breath hitches, heart skipping a few beats before beating restlessly. shivers shoot down your spine as your grip around the papers tightens, crumbling their corners. “we meet again.”

it’s him, you know it, it is him, nishimura riki— you know. he hasn’t changed much. riki still has his devilish eyes beholding a sinister glow. the menacing smirk still adorns his face like diamond jewellery. it has been ten years but the way your name rolls off his tongue still makes your skin crawl, giving you chills as all those memories flood back inside your mind. there’s a pen in your pocket, and you wonder if running away is still an option. you bite the inside of your bottom lips, tapping your foot nervously on the granite floor as the taste of iron conquers your mouth. a part of you wonders how riki would react to that. you look at the officer, and then contemplate doing exactly what you did in highschool.

“you can’t run away now.” riki chuckles. it’s more of a taunting laughter, one that reminds you of all the olden times. it’s infuriating and at the same time, is inducing fear inside your veins. you can’t look him in the eyes— you won’t— it’s the same as losing a game at the cost of your life. you take a sharp breath, digging nails into the palm of your hands once again, before his next words manage to seize your attention. “why have you been running from me, yn?”

it’s an innocent question, really, you wonder if the cameras in the room make you seem like a socially incapable person at the moment. “i’m in a hurry so let’s make this quick—”

“tell him to go out.” you flinch at his words, you always do. there’s nothing in the world that makes you shake in fear as much as riki’s presence. you look at the officer, and then at riki— his lips, because you don’t want to look into his eyes ever again. his words ring inside your head while you consider his request. “you’re taking a lot of time for someone who’s in a hurry, yn.”

you want him to stop calling your name. it’s not appropriate, quite literally, because you’re no longer friends. you’re his attorney and he’s your client, you want to create a line between, though, you dare not to. you look at the officer, gesturing to him to leave as he hesitates for a brief second before stepping out of the room. your instincts are telling you that it was a wrong move, for being alone with riki is equivalent to standing at gunpoint where the trigger pulls when the timer goes off.

“alright, let’s star— let me just—”

“my god, yn, you’re shaking.” he cuts you off, making your fingers wince at his voice. your gaze falls upon the floor, blinking nervously as you bite the inside of your cheeks, making your blood hold the only taste in your mouth. your eyes follow his actions as he stands up from his seat, the metal chair sliding against the floor, making you wince again, taking a sharp breath as he crouches in front of you. “are you scared?”

his voice is no louder than a whisper, but it resonates like a loud thud against your ears. as if someone is screaming in your ears. irritability surges inside of you as you start pricking the skin alongside your nails obsessively, glancing into the camera, waiting for someone to arrive and help you get out of this. the silence in the room trails on your skin, eating you out, before you decide to take the matter in your own hands.

you stand up, pushing your chair away from him with your legs as you exhale heavily. “please, go back to your seat.” you don’t look at him, actively avoiding his sight by running your gaze all over the room anxiously, but you feel his eyes on you like a burden on your shoulders. there’s a sudden shift in the air as he stands up, dragging his chair just next to yours before taking a seat and waiting for you to continue.

“is this okay?” it’s not, and you hate how you feel as if you’ve lost your ability to speak and counter his actions, simply nodding as you sit apprehensively on your chair. you pick one of the files, frantically going through the pages instead of reading it with proper attention. at this point, the case is the last thing you care about. with a heart pacing unbelievably fast, you feel like you’re going to have a heart attack, while your mind is reciting nothing but chants and prayers for the prosecution team to come inside.

riki’s eyes follow your gaze, watching you as you flip though the documents, sweat covering your forehead. his irises settle upon your hand, the one you had injured deliberately in highschool, and then the scars on your fingers and wrist that you had acquired over the years, finally residing upon a certain word on one of the papers that makes him chortle. “do you know about renfield’s syndrome?”

it’s a question that leaves you perplexed, making you freeze in your stance. “yes— i mean, no, i don’t.”

“it’s clinical vampirism, obsession with drinking blood.” there’s slight amusement in his voice as he inches towards you, whispering those words with a straight face. that’s the first time in years you look into his dreadful eyes. a pause, silence fills in the air between the two of you before he claps abruptly, startling you with his maniacal laughter. "it's crazy, right? people don't want to accept that vampires exist so they make it a medical condition."

your blood runs cold at the sound of his laughter. riki was arrested as the prime suspect for one of the most gruesome cases, yet no remorse has been evident on his face ever since you stepped inside the room. you pay his words no mind— try to—because indulging into his thought process would do more to you than you want done, and is, if anything, unnecessarily time consuming. "what were you doing this thursday?"

you inquire, waiting for his response, but not a word comes out of his mouth. he leans against the chair, playing with the ring on his index finger with a stoic face. your breath fastens again, nervousness creeping in as the silence drowns you inside of it. you're scared of riki's words, but you fear his silence even more. it's like a thousand screams lay unveiled behind his silence, and he looks at you as if you're going to be one of them soon.

"why do you always run away from me, yn?" there's sadness dripping off his words along with unknown beads of guilt. "from the playground, then school. you had always run away from me." he removes his ring, placing it on the table before looking at you with a luscious glint in his eyes, the one you saw that day, in the playground. "it makes me want to chase you even more."

another series of villainous laughter spins in the air as you stand up, rushing towards the door to call for help, only for him to make you trip on the calloused floor with his legs. you think you’re finally connecting the dots. however, you don’t want to accept it. his questions hold no meaning to you since he knows exactly what happened. riki knows you didn’t run away from the playground. you told him to stay while you called someone for help, but you turned around when his sobs stopped, only to see him devouring on his bleeding knee succulently. running away was the only escape for the five year old you, who had witnessed her only friend turn out to be a devillious monster.

you fist up your hands again, wanting the nails to pierce through the skin of your palms. you find yourself in the same situations you used to run from in the past, except, there are no escapes with time. your vision blurs as a single tear rolls down your cheeks while you attempt to stand up again.

"there, there; let me help you," the only sound you're able to perceive is his footsteps approaching you as he locks the door, sliding the key back inside his pocket before crouching in front of you once again. “c’mon yn, stop running away. don’t you think we should catch up after all these years?”

strings of no’s fall off your lips along with the tears streaming down your face as you drag yourself away from him, against the cold floor. you look towards the cctv, praying that someone would report soon. truthfully, they should’ve been outside, checking up on the situation since it has taken so much time. you hear riki sigh before shooting you a pitiful gaze. “you know, the cctv isn’t working.”

and just like that, the last strands of hope you’ve been holding onto breaks as you look into the eyes of the person you’ve been running from all your life. it feels as if the world has stopped with your breath caught up inside your throat. you watch his lips curl into a smirk as he inches closer to you, halting a few inches before your ears, whispering, "no one will come." and before you could react, you felt his fangs pierce through your neck as you feel all your senses died down.

perhaps, your biggest mistake is that you saw a friend in a monster. you had known it all along, his habits, the way you saw his mother drink down his father's blood— all of it; and yet, you wanted to believe riki was different. the truth is that everyone is the same under their varied skin. their true colour surfaces according to the need, making them someone the world never assumes them to be, like the innocent boy you once knew became your worst nightmare. and now, all you could do is wait to die as the excruciating pain makes it harder for you to breathe with every passing second.

and hour flies by, and the door finally unlocks, revealing a gruesome scene mrs. jung— blood splatters on the floor and on the wall, scratches on riki's faces, signifying that you had tried to fight, although ending up losing terribly. your pale blue body catches her attention, especially your lifeless eyes that still stare at with disappointment and shock. riki stands up in a daze, handing her his blood-drenched handkerchief. "her mother is next."

taglist in the rbs.

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mrpenguinpants · 4 years ago

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Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Whenever I write these it’s always when I have a pile of requests on my desk that I said I was going to get to but never do. I even missed a day yesterday because I crashed and burned and slept the entire day haha. Might miss today too since I’m going out to see my mum.

This is like 90% crack and 10% actual content. I’m gonna post this and proceed to have shock therapy and wipe it from my memory.

I just want to be happy and it’s cold af where I live. I’ve also learned from maagdalen that Russia is insane with snow.

---

Today’s appreciation post goes to asoundofdrop. Ty for the love on the Childe HCs hehe. Honestly, just the fact you tag everything blows my mind because I hate tagging so just seeing you do it with my mess of tags (back when I screamed my feelings before tumblr dropped the ban hammer on me) is like wow. That’s some next level effort, wish I had that haha;; I’m just gonna say this in advance, I am so sorry for the mess of tags I’m about to drop on this.

---

Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: University AU [V1]

Genshin: Roommate [V1]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz

@youaskedfurret @snowy224 @mayumintsu @tigerpriestess

---

Xiao

Excuse me? What is this cold you speak of? He’s an adepti he doesn’t know what cold is. Is it a demon he’s not aware of? Should he go beat it into submission if that’ll make you feel better? He’s already gone with his spear and out to go slay this cold demon before you can explain what the hell temperature is.

By the time he’s back, he seems so proud of himself for killing a dragonspine yeti that you don’t have the heart to tell him that was literally not what you wanted or expected him to do. Your fingers are about to break their finger kneecaps. pLEASE sir just hold my hand.

Bad idea, he’s been outside in the cold and he’s not exactly wearing mittens so your fingers end up colder. But you’re finally holding his hand that you suck it up and cry when he does actually break your fingers because he doesn’t know what muscle control is.

Keqing

Ruthless business woman one second and then you show up, tell her you’re cold, and she’s reduced to flustered mother hen. All she has on her are these long sleeves that all Qixing wear. Would you like some warm milk? She knows you like your milk heated to a simmer right at 187.7975 degrees Fahrenheit.

Okay, first off, who measures in fahrenheit anymore this is China Liyue. Second off, how the hell does she know that and why is it so precise? She’s already throwing whatever Liyue duties she had back at the poor worker that has no idea what possessed the normally confident and admirable Keqing into this...creature. Making new plans for a heating system in Liyue while also coddling you.

Catch her outside at 3am pounding the snow ground, crying, as she curses Rex Lapis for making it so cold in Liyue when he’s not even the Cyro archon. Zhongli sneezed while looking over papers burning the 3am oil. Maybe he needs to go home before it gets too cold, he might be getting sick.

Diluc

God you’re such an idiot. Didn’t you see how hard the snow was falling? I can’t believe I married someone with 2 braincells. Are you trying to give me a heart attack? What would father in the sky think if my partner died because of frost bite when I’m a goddamn pyro vision user? I can commit arson to make a make-shift fire place, I have the money for the damages.

Dilu- NO I DON’T NEED YOUR SHIRT. IT’S -20 DEGRESS. IT’S OKAY. YOUR COAT IS ENOUGH. PUT YOUR CLAYMORE AWAY WE CANNOT SET THE KNIGHTS OF FAVONIUS HQ ON FIRE WE AREN’T EVEN NEAR THERE. KAEYA IS INSIDE- DILUC - NO COME BACK.

Your make shift fireplace is Kaeya’s “ugly” scarf. That’s it. That’s the post.

Amber

Oh you’re cold? It’s okay, here take her baron bunny to cuddle with while she lights a fire. She thinks she saw some boar’s in the forest, she can make her specialty and that should warm you right up! So sweet, so wholesome. Don’t worry this baron bunny won’t explode in your face, she tripled checked she wasn’t giving you a dancing bomb.

While you’re huddled around a summoning circle of baron bunny’s, nice and warm, is when she relaxes and joins you. She grins to herself and pats herself on the shoulder. See that haters, she can make her partner nice and happy without your #buffamberwhen.

Kaeya

You’re cold? Maybe you’ve just fallen so hard for him that whenever you think of him you get cold. He never knew you cared so much it’s so cut- okok you can stop hitting him now. He’ll offer his scarf if he had one but Diluc might have burned it but he does have his tit window.

Basically impenetrable, you could bounce bullets off it so naturally the cold bounces off. You have to tell him up front that he sound borderline crazy and the fbi are already at his door. The fbi is Diluc. So instead he offers his overcoat and asks you if you would like to join him in some cozy tavern that hopefully has heating.

It’s a nice and comforting experience until he drags you to Angel share and you know it’s just to 1v1 Diluc in the parking lot.

Scaramouche

lol perish

So naturally, you grab his ridiculous hat that he wears to compensate for his gremlin height and throw it like a frisbee.

Go fetch

---

God, why is there no official content of you scaramouche you bitch, you’re ruining the aesthetic. This is why I only give you one point of dialogue. This isn’t even funny. It’s a therapy session. This entire post was just for me to say tit window because I didn’t get to say it in my last Kaeya fic.

Wow, I wonder which characters I like in genshin. Could it be “wow I hate everything and everyone don’t fucking touch me” male characters??? Could it be “Head strong but are secretly adorable” female characters?? Kaeya is only there because Diluc is there.

I had to redo all my headers because everyone was taking up so much space in their 240p quality. Keqing is the only one that actually stepped forward when it was picture day. I don’t have enough energy to care about sizing I’m sorry.

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sharuruwrites · 2 years ago

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That one saxophone solo (pt.1)

Summary: Shion and Gojo finally went to their honeymoon. Fluff and tensions ensues.

Warning(s): Suggestive themes

Timeline: Gojo: 23 Shion: 22

A/n: Sup! I'm back and this chapter was supposed to be longer but i split into two parts because it's getting too much. I had a lot fun and struggles in writing this chapter especially that's it's a fluff based chapter. I tried different for this chapter's header with aesthetic, but I'm not sure if i pulled it off (^_^;).

Word Count: 5.1k Special thanks to @xerox-candybar for beta reading this chapter.

Also, credits to _melonchip at IG for taking my commission and drew this emotional constipated idiots.

Disclaimer: I don't own Jujutsu Kaisen as it belong to Gege Akutami.

Masterlist

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

*Bold letters meaning they’re talking in English ——————————————————————

On a rare and peaceful day off, Shion enjoyed the silence with a book in one hand, running the other through her husband’s snow-colored hair. It’s been almost two hours since Gojo fell asleep on her lap. At first, his head was on her shoulder, and Shion worried about potential future back problems. Instead, she offered him her lap to nap on.

She took note of Gojo snuggling into her lap as if it were a pillow. Thanks to his hair, it tickled her.

At some point, Shion’s eyes lost focus on her book, and drifted towards Gojo’s sleeping face. Her hand moved slightly, allowing her to get a clear view of his features. Gently putting her book away, she brushed a few strands of his hair away from his cheek.

Shion admitted that Gojo was a very handsome guy. If it weren’t for the whole Jujutsu business, she could clearly see him as a very popular actor and model. And she had a feeling that he would have the Midas’ touch, if he chose to dwell in business–that is if he kept his mouth shut, and played the role of a serious cool guy. Then again, he wouldn’t be the Gojo Satoru she knew. She hated to admit it, but being an annoying piece of shit was one of Gojo’s endearing charms.

Despite his loudness and eccentricness, sometimes she woke up to his sleeping face, and she always found herself staring at him for a few minutes before getting ready for the day. She liked how peaceful he looked as it soothes her nerves.

She wondered what kind of dreams he had whenever she saw a small smile on his face. Was it his dream of revolutionizing the current system finally came to life?‌ Or relieving a happy memory from his past?‌

Shion’s observations came to a stop as her husband roused himself from his slumber.

“How’s the nap, dumbass?”‌

“Nice,” Gojo answered groggily as he rubbed his cheek against her bare thighs. “I have the best pillow to nap on after all.”

Shion felt her cheeks burn with anger. Did her husband really just wake up and immediately provoke violence, even though he’s within striking distance of her fist?

“By the way,” Gojo shifted his position, sensing his wife would explode out of embarrassment. “Have we had our honeymoon yet?”

Shion shook her head.

“Let’s go on one!”

Right after their wedding back in 2009, the married couple couldn’t afford to make plans for their honeymoon trip. They were simply too busy with the duties that came along with their positions, and the assigned missions from the college. Gojo–occupied with his teaching responsibilities and his transition to clan head—barely had time for himself. Because of this, he left the responsibility of the Fushiguro siblings to his already overwhelmed wife.

Shion closed her book, placing it on the couch. “Where do you want to go?”

“It’s up to you, Shion.” Gojo stretched his arms upward before standing up from the couch. “After all, our honeymoon is your wedding present to me!”

“Wait what?!” Shion exclaimed. “I didn’t agree to do the planning and-”

“Oh look at that time,” Gojo took a quick glance at his phone before shoving it back into his pocket. “I have a date with a cursed spirit! And you know how cranky they can get when I’m late!”

“Satoru!”

After Gojo quickly waved at Shion, he winked, and then disappeared to his destination.

“And, there he goes…Wait…isn’t today his day off?”

———————————-

Later in the evening, a certain blonde salaryman entered his apartment. For once, his boss was feeling generous enough to let him go home early after 3 days of working overtime. Why couldn’t that idiot do his own fucking financial reports for once?! Why does he have to make Nanami do his work?

Nanami was so ready to relax on his couch, drink some beer and catch up on his reading. Instead, he found Shion had showed up unannounced and invaded his living room. Stacks of opened magazines covered his coffee table and countless sticky notes plastered the back of her laptop.

How did she even get access to his place? Oh right–he had given her a key to his place two years ago, after he had rescued her from a bar after a night of heavy drinking.

It was the first time they’d spoken after Haibara’s death.

“Kento...I’ll support whatever decisions you have, whether it be leaving that cursed world or pretending all of that is not real but, please…”

Shion clenched tightly onto the hem of his shirt as she sobbed. “Don’t forget…I exist...”

His home acted as a temporary sanctuary for Shion. It didn’t solve her marital problems–Gojo’s neglect, their lack of communication–but it did help her climb out of a dangerous headspace.

Nanami remembered how vulnerable Shion looked when she woke up. Her hair was a mess, all over the place. He could see the never-ending sorrow in her eyes, eyes that once gleamed with such lustrous golden color. The familiar shame and guilt he’d seen years ago resurfaced on her face again.

Nanami felt partially responsible for what she had become.

Instead of helping her, he ran–no, scratch that–he abandoned her in his pursuit of normalcy. No one could really blame him for what he did. The Jujutsu society was really fucked up, rotten to it’s core, and it had driven at least one sorcerer he knew to insanity.

Because of this, he wondered if Shion understood his decision to leave the cursed world, or if she had turned a blind eye towards his selfish act, hoping for a chance to rekindle their friendship.

All these thoughts ran through his head. He pushed them aside as he took off his blazer, setting it on the top of the chair.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, welcome home, Kento.” Shion put her laptop aside and pulled a bottle of whiskey from her bag. “To compensate for the sudden visit.”

“I’m so close to asking for my key back, “ Nanami said, taking the bottle anyway.

Despite being a heavy drinker, Nanami wasn’t a raging alcoholic–unlike their mutual acquaintance. Did Shion really think he would be swayed so easily by intoxicating beverages?

Then again, only a fool would decline free drinks.

Nanami let out a tired sigh before loosening his necktie.

“Did you order take-out, at least?”

Shion nodded.

“Then be my guest.”

After taking a quick shower, Nanami slipped into his sleepwear and as he was changing, he heard his doorbell ring twice, indicating the food had arrived. He made his way to the living room with a towel draped on his neck. He felt lazy today to dry his hair with his hair dryer.

Seeing Nanami on his way, Shion poured a glass of whiskey for him as he took a seat across from her.

Nanami took a sip of his drink. “What made you come here?”

"A change of scenery.“‌ Shion answered without looking away from her laptop. ”It might help me decide where to go for my honeymoon trip with Satoru.“‌

Honeymoon? An unlikely scenario for those two–both of them are complete idiots when it comes to each other. A prideful idiot, and an oblivious idiot. He still hadn’t a clue when this pining between them would end. Honestly, it was amusing and tiring to watch them in the same room together.

In spite of everything, he preferred that than ever breathing in the same air as Naoya Zen’in–Shion had mistaken his marriage proposal as a declaration of rivalry. But that would be a tale for another time.

Nanami eyed at the messy stack of colorful travel magazines on his coffee table. “Shouldn’t you be planning this with Gojo, Shion?”

“Yep, and knowing him, he would dodge the topic like a mission from the higher-ups.” Shion put a whole tamago into her mouth. “Hash wark? Shame ash ushuyla? Shame shitty bawsh?”

“Eat first before you speak.” Nanami scolded. “And yes, the same as usual.”

The woman gulped down before releasing a contented sigh. “Well, if you need help in dealing with someone, let me know.” Shion gestured at her neck.

“I will if the only option isn’t murder.”

“So, you’re considering murder as one of the options then?” Shion tilted her head to the side, confused with her friend’s sudden frown. “What? I’m double checking with you before I commit anything. Oh, and that supervisor of yours, is he currently in a relationship? Because I saw him with different-”

“How am I still friends with you?”

“You’re a softie, that's why.”

Nanami rolled his eyes at Shion’s words.

“You’re more of a softie than me, Shion.” Nanami commented. “Remember in high school when there’s a mission at Nagoya-”

Shion’s eyes widened before she covered her ears. “N-Not another word please, Kento!”

Nanami was not very surprised to find that his supervisor was weirdly friendly with him at work the next day, and insisted on granting him a good amount of vacation days as a goodwill gesture. Nanami didn’t miss the fear in his eyes when they made eye contact.

Looks like he had Shion to thank and scold for this.

----------------------------------------------

After a week of preparation, the married couple finally went on their honeymoon. Thanks to Gojo’s ‘charms,’ they managed to each get a week off so that they could fully enjoy their well-deserved rest.

However, when they arrived at their hotel, an unexpected problem occurred.

“One single room for Mr. & Mrs. Gojo, right?”

One bed? And, here she thought she could get a break from sharing a bed with Gojo for once. She’s sure that she picked a double room for the both of them. Did they accidentally book the wrong one?‌

“Miss?”

“Ah…yes!” Shion looked startled as she clasped her hands together, and quickly spared a glance at Gojo. “One bedroom for me and my husband...of course, my husband….who is over there, at the koi pond…”

Unknown to her, Gojo was assessing if he could fit a smaller koi fishin his water bottle.

Shion awkwardly chuckled. The receptionist gave her a side eye before turning their attention to the computer. What’s with that reaction? Her English wasn’t that bad to begin with, was it? Thanks to her travels with Tsukumo, she could read and comprehend simple sentences, as well as hold a conversation.

Maybe it wasn’t so much how she sounded, but what she said–now that she thought about it, Shion may have come off as floozy, or worse– a married woman having an affair with another man.

She really needed to take a break from reading such romance trite novels.

All of her energy was spent from their travels (and the awkward conversation with the receptionist), and Shion wanted to dive to their bed and rest, but Gojo’s big mouth prevented her from doing so.

“You really want to sleep with me that much, huh?” Gojo smirked.

Shion glared at Gojo. So he did have something to do with their unexpected room change after all.

“What are you talking about?” Shion put down her luggage on the carpeted floor. “You act like this is our first time sharing a bed.”

She’s not wrong.

When they first got married, Gojo bought a house near the college, but also close to the Fushiguro sibling’s school. They had started to share a bed when the Fushiguros moved into their house. Since they’re growing children, Shion willingly gave up her bedroom and her personal office so that they could each have their own room. They could easily buy a larger house, but they had been so busy with work that they didn't have time to do more house hunting.

Sure, he could just have Shion move to his family’s estate with him, but trust didn’t exist in that place.

Despite his position as the head of the Gojo clan, the servants remained loyal to other family members, most notably towards his parents–the same people who brought him to this world with a troublesome burden, and the first people to strongly oppose his marriage to Shion. They claimed that it would damage his reputation enough just to marry an outcast, let alone someone with a questionable background like his new bride.

They also kept trying to set him up with their own marriage candidate. They assumed that because Shion hadn’t yet given them any grandchildren, she must be infertile, and if she couldn’t fulfill even the simplest role of a woman, he might as well divorce her. They said this to his face, with Shion beside him.

When Gojo heard those words, he almost committed parricide on the spot like his old friend. Consequences be damned.

The only thing that stopped him from doing so was Shion. He remembered her expression at that time was unreadable, indifferent to his parent’s attack.

Once they got home, however, he accidentally stumbled upon Shion hunched over the bathroom sink, secretly treating the red crescent-shaped wounds on the palm of her hands.

The scene made him wish he could manipulate time to his will. He wanted to go back in time to the first year of their marriage, and treat her better. Not as her husband, but as her partner.

He hoped this trip would help him understand Shion more, and in return, he would earn more of her trust.

“Earth to Satoru,” Shion said. “Did you even hear me? I said, this isn’t our first time sharing a bed–”

“Yep~” Gojo poked her cheek. “That’s how I know you snore and hog the blanket. ”

Shion shook her head in response to her husband’s answer.

“What’s first on the agenda?”‌ Gojo asked.

“The beach, but I want a snack.”‌ Shion frowned, placing her hand on her stomach. “The airplane food wasn’t enough.”

“Alright,” Gojo nodded before rolling his shoulders. “I’ll look for a convenience store. I need to stretch my legs after that flight. Why did you book us economy class when we can easily afford first class? Or even better—rent a private jet?”‌

Because it was Nanami who booked their flight. Whenever Shion made travel plans, her mind always went blank as her anxiety cranked up to a hundred. It’s not that she worried about money–she worried about filling in the right information. What if she accidentally booked a forty-eight hour flight to Denmark? Or chose an unreasonable flight time? Did she have to pay extra for checked baggage, or was that included?

Not that Gojo would understand the struggle.

“I forgot to upgrade the tickets.” Shion scratched her cheek. “Now, could you go get me some snacks?”‌

Once Gojo left the room, Shion fell face first to their shared bed. She let out a moan, satisfied with how comfortable it was.

She wanted to take a nap, but she had to unpack her luggage just to find her swimsuit.

As Shion went through her clothes, panic started to rise. There’s still no sign of her bathing suit! Where could it be? She had already checked every nook and cranny of her suitcase…

Amidst of her dilemma, her eyes landed on a familiar white rectangular box. She hadn’t opened that box yet, even though she had received it weeks ago…

"You're late, Shion." Mei Mei extended her hand out. "That'll be 500 yen for the late fee."

"This isn’t a doctor’s appointment that I’m missing, Mei-san." Shion looked at her friend, confused. “Besides, you’re the one who came to visit me at work, unannounced-”

“I’ll charge you an extra five-hundred yen for that behavior.”

“Alright, fine!” Shion rolled her eyes as she handed the older woman a five-hundred yen coin. “What brought you here?”

Mei inspected the gold coin and played it around between her fingers. "I heard from Shoko and Utahime that you'll be going on your honeymoon next week. Consider this my wedding present."

“Is Mei-san a psychic?” Shion gasped. "How did she know I’d forget to bring my swimsuit today?"

Inside of the box, Shion found a pair of black undergarments paired with sheer stockings. The needlework in the laces was intricate, and the fabric was smooth to touch.

This was perfect! She hoped it would fit her.

Shion changed into the ‘swimsuit,’ and quickly began having doubts about this gift. It barely covered her parts that would warrant an arrest for indecent exposure. Also, what was the point of these stockings? Wouldn’t they make it harder to traverse the soft sands? And she worried that she was going to lose circulation in her thighs because of the tight fit.

She took a quick picture of her outfit. That way, if Mei Mei ever wanted to gift her a swimsuit again, she would know that she chose the wrong size.

Despite her complaints, Shion found the outfit to be cute.

“I grab you some snacks and-” Gojo stopped in his tracks and dropped the white plastic bag he was holding. “I prefer white on you.”

“Ever heard of knocking?” Shion’s eyes narrowed at him as he picked up the bag and took a seat on their shared bed.

“Where did you buy that?” Gojo gestured at her swimsuit. “I thought you’re more of a no-frills kind of woman.”

“Oh, it’s a gift from Mei-san,” Shion put her hand on her hip. “I never imagined she'd be the type to give someone a swimsuit.”

A sense of curiosity rose within Shion as she watched her husband’s dumbfounded expression.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to wear that to the beach?” Gojo said. Disbelief was laced into his tone.

“Without the stockings, I don’t see why not?” Shion shrugged. "I mean, it’s a bit tight around my chest but I think I’ll-Satoru? Are you alright?"

At that moment, Gojo swore his mind crashed 3 times in a row.

----------------------------------------------

After a quick trip to the mall for a new swimsuit, and then a quick change of clothes, the couple finally reached their destination for the day: the beach.

As they walked towards the water, they were greeted by the familiar sights of white sands and blue sky, and the sounds of waves rolling upon the shoreline. The smell of salty ocean spray invaded the air around them, and the sun felt warm against their skin.

“Should we go surfing or kayaking first?” Shion asked.

Shion was wearing a white two piece she chose for herself, but the black jacket was Gojo’s idea.

“Satoru,” Shion fanned herself. “Is it really necessary for me to wear your jacket? It’s fucking hot.”

“Yes.” Gojo’s face scrunched into a scowl. “It’ll protect you from all the wolves lurking around here.”

“I think we can rent there.” She pointed at a blue shack filled with various floaties, water toys, surfboards and umbrellas. “You know how to swim right?”

“I should be asking you that question, Shion.”

Within seconds, Shion made a face, as if this were a ridiculous notion. Of course she knew how to swim—she learned it from the best. Her teacher, Tsukumo, had shoved her into the deep end of a pool and she whispered ‘good luck’. All Shion could remember from that day was her limbs screaming in pain.

Recalling that memory sent shivers down Shion's spine. She was thankful that she managed to learn to swim on the first try. And if she didn’t, well, then she wouldn’t be alive today. Although Shion mastered the basics, the lesson didn’t stop there–Tsukumo kept pushing until Shion could jump from an Olympic dive board without any problems.

“Now, now, you’ll be scaring the cashier with that frown of yours, Shion.” Gojo ruffled her hair.

Shion slapped her husband’s hand away from her. “Just wait here.”

His wife left him with only a single thought in his head— she was too damn beautiful.

From the moment they set their foot on the beach, he could feel and see the hungry gazes from the ‘wolves.’

Shion was too oblivious to notice the stares. As Gojo silently threatened men left and right, Shion seemed preoccupied with something–he swore that he heard her mumbling about werewolves.

He broke away from his thoughts when he felt his phone vibrate. He fished his phone from his pocket and noticed a text from Mei Mei. He almost forgot that he messaged that woman, questioning her if she received a bribe from someone who wanted him dead…from embarrassment.

From: Scary Crow Lady (Mei Mei) Shouldn’t you be thanking me instead? I always assumed you two had an exciting sex life ;-). Isn’t that the purpose of your trip? What’s there to be thankful for?! There was nothing exciting about the long cold, shower before they went to the mall. Thankfully, Shion didn’t question why.

He had no intention of trying to sleep with her. And if he chose to bring up the topic, then there was a good chance that Shion would pass out from embarrassment.

“I’m back.” Shion approached him with two pairs of life vests and snorkeling masks. “I changed my mind, and thought we should do a bit of snorkeling first then–what’s with the scowl on your face?”‌

“Nothing.” Gojo grumbled under his breath, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “Anyways, shall we go then? There’ll be less people ogling you in underwater”

Underneath the blue waters, they saw many colorful forms of marine life. It was a beautiful sight to behold: the school of fishes swimming around them were iridescent, some even had a unique pattern to their scales. Others moved in slow circles–one came swimming right by Shion’s mask.

After their underwater adventure, Gojo suggested building a sandcastle–he wanted to see how tall it could get with their combined effort. It felt a bit childish to do this at their age, but ultimately Shion couldn’t deny his idea as she was also curious about what the outcome would be.

Shion fortified the base of the castle, and volunteered to make a moat around it to protect it from the tides. Meanwhile, Gojo did the heavy lifting–transporting the materials, and adding more layers to the top. Soon, their sand castle was about up to Gojo’s thighs.

But even with Gojo’s jacket, Shion kept receiving good-for-nothing stares from the ‘wolves.’ Some were subtle, but some of them had the audacity to do it with their partner next to them, thinking they would get away scot-free. It sent his blood boiling, and his hands itched to blast those perverts with Red.

No, he’s not jealous. In fact, the last time he experienced such a feeling was two years ago.

He remembered it so clearly.

It was a cold, stormy night and he was standing in front of an abandoned school. His body was heavy with exhaustion, yet he still pushed on–determined to pick up his wife after he got a troubling text from Ijichi. He could have asked the auxiliary manager to do it himself, but it’s been a while since he had seen Shion.

The moment Gojo stepped his foot inside the building, he immediately hid his cursed energy well enough to avoid suspicion. He sensed Shion’s own cursed energy nearby, as well as another familiar aura that shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

His fatigue vanished instantly–replaced with panic as he was outside of the classroom where Shion and Geto were.

Gojo listened to every word of their conversation. Judging from Shion’s hostility, it’s unlikely that his wife expected to find Geto here. That’s one thing to check off the list from the questions he would have to ask her later.

As far as he could tell, Shion never suspected that he had been eavesdropping on her and Geto, before he made his grand entrance. Of course, he wasn't planning to bring it up. He would be patient with her, just like she did with him despite his neglect. It’s the least he could do.

But, Gojo never expected his wife to talk about all her problems maintaining and forming relationships with someone who had committed a heinous crime–even if they had once been friends.

He couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with Shion’s crush on Geto.

“Shion,” Gojo got a small ‘hm’ from Shion. “Back in high school, did you like Suguru?”

At that moment, Shion ran the toy shovel straight through the base of the sandcastle. All of their hard work came crumbling down within a matter of seconds.

“Shion!”

Ignoring the architectural tragedy that she had caused, Shion scratched her flushed cheek. “I-I believe I don’t have any idea you’re talking about, Satoru.”

Gojo was astounded by her response. Did she really think her feelings toward Suguru were a secret in the first place? Their classmates and the faculty staff all knew about it. Heck, he overheard Gakuganji, the old fart at Kyoto Tech, asking Yaga’s opinion on whether Shion or Geto would confess first.

“At this point, if someone asked me what oblivious means–” Gojo pointed at her, “–I’m gonna direct them to you.”

Shion slapped his arm as her cheeks burned with embarrassment. In exchange, Gojo laughed at his wife’s bashfulness.

Was he wrong? No, it was a badly kept secret to begin with. Even before hearing it from Haibara’s loud mouth, Geto had sensed the girl’s admiration towards him–it was evident from the way she acted whenever they were in the same room together.

‘Suguru-senpai’ had a sweet-yet-shy tune to it, as if she were a typical damsel-in-distress waiting for her prince to rescue her. When Gojo watched them together, it honestly felt like a shoujo manga panel had come to life, with Shion’s personality switching from her usual deadpan expression to a blushing mess.

Thinking about how Shion acted towards Suguru was amusing at first. Yet, as time passed on, it became disgusting and–surprisingly–mixed with jealousy.

Gojo recounted the many times he rolled his eyes at Shion for acting in such a trite way. On the other hand, Shion greeting him as ‘Gojo-senpai’ and simply acknowledging his presence drained all of her energy in one go. Gojo understood why–he’s a real piece of work, and his constant hijinks were always a headache to deal with.

What could he say?‌ He’s a natural when it comes to mischief..

Did he regret it? No, not really as it gave him Shion’s hand in marriage and cooperation to his cause.

"W-whatever!" Shion averted Gojo’s eyes. "I-I only had a crush on him, that's it!"

Had a crush? That’s a relief. Wait, was he feeling nervous all that time? Him?!

“W-what is it to you anyway if I do have a crush on Geto-san?”‌ Shion’s eyes locked on Gojo’s, unable for the latter to tear away from. “It’s not like you can do anything about it!”

Shion felt she said something wrong. Despite her husband smiling, the corners of his mouth looked strained.

“I’m thinking of an excuse to use if ever the higher-ups get caught wind of this.” Gojo’s gaze shifted from Shion towards the ocean. “They’re still hellbent on pushing your death penalty. I won’t be surprised if they stoop so low as to fabricate evidence that frames you as Suguru’s conspirator.”

“Is…that so?” Her question came out as a whisper, discouraged at what she heard. “I guess…it can’t be helped.”

“You can tell how fucked up their priorities are,” Gojo commented. “After three years, they still keeping tabs on you and-”

And here she had thought she had made progress–3 years of doing their dirty work, only to find out that she’s still at square one. She had bent over backwards for them, thinking that maybe, just maybe, if she worked hard enough, the higher-up’s perception of her would improve–or at least be less shitty–and maybe they’d stop giving her husband so much trouble.

What’s the point of her title and her efforts if she couldn’t get a sliver of respect from those dried up pieces of shit?

Shion lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?”

Afraid that her voice would fail her, she kept silent with her hand clenched into a fist. She didn’t pay attention to the pain she inflicted on herself. This frustration she felt was too familiar to her, and she hated it so much.

A familiar warmth on her hand broke her thoughts as Gojo grabbed her fist. She didn’t know why, but when he took hold of her hand, he acted as if he were handling something fragile like glass.

His thumb gently caressed her fingers. In response, she slowly unclenched her fists as Gojo laced his fingers with hers. She never thought that her hand would seem so small compared to her husband’s.

“Are you apologizing because you think your efforts were wasted?” Gojo asked.

Shion nodded.

His voice was different from his usual sly-yet-brazen tone that she was so used to hearing. He sounded gentle, calm and understanding. It was almost comforting, like a warm blanket on a rainy night. But there was a hint of anger mixed in, and she wasn’t sure why. It felt like he was fuming at the higher ups on her behalf.

“It sure was a complete waste of time and effort, trying to change their minds,” Gojo said.

Shion looked down, and frowned at his words. He didn’t have to rub salt on the wound.

“But it didn’t go unnoticed,” Gojo added.

“What do you mean?”

“Because there’s one person who did notice, and that’s me.”

Something soft and warm was pressed against the back of her hand. She didn’t fully register what it was until Gojo gave her one of his signature winks.

Shion.exe crashed.

#gojo x oc #gojo fluff #jjk fanfic #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk oc #jjk fanart #gojo fanfic

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kyouka-supremacy · 10 months ago

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I admire your dedication to organising and setting a new theme every month lol. How long do these usually take to plan and edit?

Thank you so much, it makes me so happy to hear you like them!! <333 In regards to the time I spend on them, I suppose it depends (but is generally too much lmao). Taking last year's batch as reference, I think the one I spent most time on is the November arcade one (which took several days to make), while the one that I fixed in less time was the June one, which apparently only took 32 minutes? (That's a record). I feel like it really varies, but usually it's no less than three hours, usually twice the time / multiple days on animated ones.

(The July Dead Apple one is an outliner– I spent more than twelve hours on it, but that's because I'm insane and filled the empty spaces with cut pieces of texture instead of painting over it with brush, which took an eternity to do (I also cleaned Chuuya and Dazai, to be fair). Honestly, my editing process in general would be much quicker for more or less the same result if only I didn't always make the most perfectionist and time consuming choices possible)

As of planning, I have a folder with themes I plan to make– it's no more than a group of pictures / panels that I saw and thought a nice theme could come out of. Around April last year, i realized I had gathered pictures to fill every remaining month of the year, so I just numbered them in my phone notes pfftt. Pictures-wise, I effectively stuck to all the ones I had set that time, but the final result post editing often came out different than what I had initially imagined (let's take the August one, for example: that was supposed to be the Akutagawa family photo alone, and not much else). This year I ended up experimenting a lot with animation, and I must admit the results were very satisfying (ㅅ´ ˘ )♡

I'm not sure I'll be able to keep going this year too; not for lack of will, but I feel like I'm just running out of pictures that give me editing inspiration ahah. Checking out the themes folder, there's six images I'd like to use (plus one already finished theme I've been dragging along for one year lmao); honestly, they all look pretty underwhelming right now, but I suppose they all do before I actually start editing them. We'll see how it goes. As I always say, when the day comes that I've finally ran out of inspiration, I'll just pick a nice ss/kk panel and stick to it (๑˃‌ᴗ˂‌)

Thank you again for your support!! And for allowing me to ramble about the process, I never get to do that ahah. Here's the process video of the Atsushi June header, one of my favourites from last year!!!

#people asks me stuff #sweet asks

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theladyofdeath · 3 years ago

Text

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 4}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

Word Count: 2550

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Apollo

– God of light, prophecy, inspiration, poetry, the sun, music and arts, medicine and healing

Aelin tried to convince herself that she got up and got ready two hours early for class because of her busy schedule. She kept telling herself it was for the meeting she had with her advisor, about a possible internship at the end of the semester.

She knew that both reasons, while extremely important, were full of shit. She knew she’d showered, blow dried and curled her hair for Rowan. It wasn’t that she was trying to impress him. She’d already done that and the chance she had to be with him had come and gone.

No, now it was about proving to him that even though this class may be a gen ed, she was taking it seriously.

Dropping the class had crossed her mind. She really didn’t need to take it, she could still find a different one to pick up. But she didn’t want to think about the sort of impression it would leave about her.

If there was anything to know about Aelin Galathynius, it was that she was not a quitter, nor did she run from her problems.

Or heartaches.

With one last look in the mirror, and a whistle from Lysandra, Aelin was out the door and hurrying across campus. She grabbed a coffee on the way, but avoided her usual place, knowing full well that Rowan enjoyed the same famous cafe that she did.

He wasn’t there yet when she got to the hall, but she took the same seat she had the class before.

She wondered if Rowan would be looking for her this time.

She quickly shook the thought away.

With her hot coffee on the corner of her fold up desk, she was pulling out her notebook and a pen, waiting anxiously for class to begin.

For him to walk through the door.

Apparently he liked to be right on the dot, though, because students continued to wander in, but he did not.

She was tapping her pen against her notebook, doing her best not to stare at the clock. She was just anxious for her day to start. It wasn’t that she wanted to see Rowan.

Professor Whitethorn, she amended in her head. She had to quit thinking of him as Rowan. She couldn’t think of him like that anymore, his body pressing into hers, lips on her neck, as he—

Shaking her head, Aelin sighed and suddenly realized that the rest of the class had hushed. She was so focused on reprimanding herself for her highly inappropriate thoughts that she hadn’t noticed him come through the door and begin setting up for class. When she dared to glance towards the front, she found his eyes on her. He quickly looked away, going back to his laptop and setting up the PowerPoint on screen.

Maybe he hadn’t been looking at her.

Maybe it had all been in her mind.

But she didn’t think it had been.

He had been watching her.

“Happy Thursday, class,” he began, as the title page of his presentation flashed onto the board. “Glad to see you all showed up again. Must mean my first class didn’t suck.” Quiet laughter thrummed through the room. Aelin couldn’t muster a laugh, though. “On Tuesday, we covered the basics. So, today… Sorry, we’re doing that again.”

More laughter, especially from the pretty, flirty girls up front.

Aelin couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

Which, when she settled her eyes back on Rowan, he definitely saw.

Come on, get your shit together, she chastised herself. With her back straightened, she gave him her full attention.

She took dutiful notes, but his slides didn’t hold much in the way of information. They were mostly headers, with a few bullet points. Most of the important information, information she knew would be critical for homework or exams, came straight from Rowan’s mouth.

It was clear that he loved mythology, that it wasn’t just a class his aunt had tossed his way and told him to figure it out. He was a trove of knowledge and she noticed he had a habit of going on slight tangents when he got going on a topic he was clearly interested in.

After a student asked him to clarify what he meant about Hercules not being Zeus’ only son, he ended up talking for nearly twenty minutes about what the beloved Disney movie had gotten wrong. Aelin had stopped taking notes and was watching him go on and on about how Hades, while god of the underworld, was not necessarily a villain. He just had a job to do. A job that had rules that must be followed, or the consequences could damn not only him, but others involved. His eyes found hers again and the amused smile on her face fell as she made the correlation between their own situation and the story.

They held each other’s gazes for far longer than was appropriate, and Rowan cleared his throat, going back to the PowerPoint, and the predetermined lesson plans he’d made, which didn’t include children’s movie breakdowns.

She watched him.

She listened.

And she found it all fascinating.

Rowan peeked at the clock after going on and on, and stilled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I guess I’ll end there. There is an assignment due by tomorrow evening. You can find and submit it online. It’s an opinion piece. I want a little insight as to why you were so interested to take this class, or what you’ve found fascinating so far.” He sat on his desk, his legs hanging over the side, his feet nearly touching the ground as he leaned back on his palms. Aelin found it charming. “You’re going to write a short essay telling me of your favorite deity. It could be one I’ve talked about so far, or one I haven’t. It’s your choice. But, tell me why they are your favorite. Give me a little depth. And, remember, this is a college course. Grammar counts.”

The clock struck nine-thirty and everyone began packing up. Aelin had been so captivated by his voice that she had to snap herself back to reality.

She quickly packed up her bag, alongside the other students around her. She noticed then how young they all were, and she was willing to bet that she may be the only senior on the roster. As she was descending the stairs, she found Rowan’s eyes on her again, but he looked away as his attention was taken, thanks to the group of girls who’d been sitting in the front row. She heard vague questions of whether they could all write about Aphrodite, since they all related to her.

The scoff Aelin thought she’d kept to herself had apparently been out loud, since not only Rowan looked at her as she passed, but so did the three girls. With his attention on her again, she decided to give him a little wave.

“See you later, Professor Whitethorn.”

If there was some extra sway to her hips, it wasn’t on purpose.

At least that’s what she told herself.

Two and a half hours later, Aelin was starving. She’d just gotten out of an extremely complicated lab and she could barely focus over the growling of her stomach. Twice, the instructor had looked over at her, half expecting to find a dog stashed under the table she was working at.

So when the class let out, she was hurrying toward the cafeteria ready to get a salad from the salad bar and a big ass slice of pizza.

It was all about balance.

As she was waiting in line to fill her plate with salad, she heard a voice behind her.

“Are you actually getting lettuce or just filling your plate with ham, cheese, and croutons?”

Aelin looked over her shoulder to find Chaol, her ex, suppressing a smile.

Aelin chuckled. “If it’s the same price, you may as well pile up on the good stuff.”

Chaol gave her a small smile. “Fair enough. It’s good to see you, Aelin. You look good.”

Things hadn’t ended the best between her and Chaol, but that had been just after freshman year. At least now when they ran into one another, they could have nice little conversations like this one.

No hard feelings.

“You too,” she said, and he did. He’d been in an accident the year before. They weren’t sure he was going to walk again. In all honesty, it was just good to see him on his feet.

“How long until your class?” He asked, sliding his tray along behind hers.

She glanced down at her watch. “About forty five minutes. You?”

“This is my long break,” he sighed. “I’ve got an hour and a half, but didn’t feel like leaving campus. Want to have lunch with me?”

“Sure.” Her smile wasn’t forced, it was easy and she was glad they could even do this, when three years again, they could barely be in the same room.

“I assume you’re getting a piece of pizza after this,” Chaol said with a smirk, nodding towards her plate. “So I’ll grab us a table while you get the rest of your lunch.”

She scoffed but nodded, and went off to get a slice of pizza. When she ordered her pizza, she also got a slice of cheesecake. It was his favorite, something she hadn’t forgotten, but it didn’t hurt that she liked it, too.

Finding him in the cafeteria, she sat down at the table across from him. “How’s Yrene doing?”

He blushed, and Aelin had to admit it was adorable. After his accident, he’d fallen for his physical therapist, and she was just as smitten with him. It must have been all the one-on-one sessions, because Chaol had never been one to let someone in. Aelin had met Yrene early in her med classes, but Yrene had specialized in PT and graduated in less than three years, taking as many classes as she could manage and even studying through the summers as well.

“It’s going good,” he said, at last. “We, uh, just moved in together, actually.”

Aelin lifted a brow. “That was fast.”

Chaol shot her a look.

Aelin laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, good for you. I like Yrene. A lot. You two are good together.”

Chaol cleared his throat before taking a bite of his salad. “Thanks.”

Aelin chuckled, taking a bite of her pizza.

Chaol blinked. “What?”

“You get so uncomfortable when it comes to feelings,” she said. “Always have.”

His eyes narrowed at her. “That’s not true.”

Aelin stopped mid-chew and raised a brow.

Even Chaol couldn’t help but chuckle at the expression. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. What about you? Seeing anyone?”

Aelin hesitated, then said, “No.”

A slow grin appeared on Chaol’s mouth. “Didn’t sound so sure about what one.”

Aelin shrugged. “Better be nice or I’m not sharing this magnificent cheesecake with you.”

Holding up his hands in placation, Chaol went back to his salad. Rowan was a dangerous topic, one she wouldn’t share with anyone but Lysandra, so she summed it up quickly. “Met someone I thought I hit it off with. Turns out we didn’t work.”

He slowly nodded. Aelin knew he’d had a couple failed relationships between her and Yrene. “I get it, I’m sorry. Still sucks.”

Shrugging again, she turned to her salad. “It happens. Not a big deal. So if you’re living with Yrene, does that mean you and Dorian broke up? Or is he playing house with you, too?”

Chaol leveled her with a look. Chaol and Dorian had been best friends long before they came to the University of Orynth. They were both from Adarlan, both trying to get away from overbearing fathers, and decided college across the country was the way to do it. They’d been roommates every year and Aelin couldn’t even imagine Chaol living with anyone except Dorian. But now he was. “He moved into an apartment with Manon this semester when I moved in with Yrene.”

Aelin blinked. “Blackbeak? He moved in with Manon Blackbeak?”

Nodding, Chaol went on. “Apparently, they’ve been dating for about a year, without anyone noticing.”

Something in the way he said it told Aelin that he had noticed, but when Dorian had his mind set on something, there was no stopping him. And apparently, he’d decided to date one of the most terrifying women on campus.

Aelin’s response was eloquent. “Wow.”

Chaol grinned. “I like it when you’re caught off guard. It’s satisfying.”

With a scoffed she nudged his leg with the toe of her sneaker. “Well, I don’t. Dorian will be getting a very angry phone call this afternoon.”

“I’ll be sure to give him a warning,” Chaol promised.

Aelin chuckled, taking the last bite of her pizza. “It’s good to see you all happy, though. Really.”

Chaol’s eyes softened. “Thanks, Aelin.”

She nodded. “Even if I am terrified that Dorian will get eaten alive.”

Chaol laughed, and she had forgotten how nice Chaol’s rare, hearty laugh was.

She meant it. She was so happy for them, both of them. It was interesting how things changed over the course of a few short years.

Their conversation continued, as did the laughs, and before she knew it, Aelin glanced down at her watch. She had less than fifteen minutes to haul ass back to the nursing building for her next class. Chaol, who had much longer to sit with nothing to do, assured her that he could handle her trash and told her to get to class. With a hug, and a promise that they’d have dinner soon, all of them, even Manon, Aelin was hurrying out of the cafeteria building.

Somehow, the entire time she’d been having lunch with Chaol, she hadn’t noticed the set of pine green eyes watching her.

Rowan’s own break had been at the same time as hers, but the gen ed building was much closer than wherever she was having to run off to, so he had longer to sit and— there was no denying it— brood. They were halfway across the room, so he couldn’t hear any of their conversation. He had no clue who the tall man was she smiled at so often, but clearly they were very familiar with each other with how easily they talked. And he made her laugh. A lot.

Rowan wasn’t sure why that was what grated on his nerves the most, but it unsettled him.

Seeing Aelin with someone else, someone clearly her own age, it all unsettled him. He didn’t like it. Almost as much as her parting words in class had.

See you later, Professor Whitethorn.

It’s like she was mocking him, yet at the same time, she clearly wasn’t. She was doing exactly as he’d asked of her, seeing him as her professor, not as her boyfriend.

No, he reprimanded himself. Not boyfriend. Hookup.

They’d had sex one time, that didn’t give either of them any claim over the other. It was a hookup and nothing more. And she was his gods-damned student.

She was off limits, in every way possible.

Yet he couldn’t figure out why seeing her with someone else, someone she should clearly be interested in instead of him, had him seeing red.

#rowaelin #rowan #aelin #fanfic #fanfiction #tog #throne of glass #modern au #professor au #college au #sjm #snacmc collab #snelbx x tacmc collab

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 4 years ago

Text

Donghyuck x Reader

summary: dating Hyuck apparently also kinda means dating Mark

word count: ~2.4k

A/N: Hyuck is a total drama queen here and Mark is oblivious, happy reading! (also do we like the header?? I think it’s kinda cute)

Dating Hyuck was everything you dreamed of and then some, he was the perfect boyfriend and best friend all in one. He knew when to have fun and when he could mess around with you, but he also knew when you needed him to be serious and help you. Of course, he was super affectionate and loving, to you and his members, meeting you did not change his habits toward his members in the slightest. He still bothered Doyoung every chance he got, he still loved on Jisung with every fiber of his being, he still fought Renjun any chance he got, and he was still babied by Johnny- that wasn’t surprising to you. But what did surprise you was just how close Hyuck and Mark really were. From the very beginning, you had been under the impression that Hyuck was the one that smothered Mark with affection to the point of being annoying, but now months, nearly a year, into your relationship with Hyuck it was very apparent to you that Mark was almost like a third piece of your two-person puzzle. Mark was just as clingy, if not more clingy than Donghyuck on any given day. These two were practically glued at the hip when they were together, they were inseparable.

Mark would very often join in on your movie nights, squeeze himself to Hyuck’s unoccupied side while you cuddled, joined in on your facetime dates when you were apart, he had even crashed a few dates and Hyuck loved it. He loved spending time with his best friend and his love, his two favorite people at the same time. Now, don’t be confused- you loved Mark but as a friend and when he wasn’t being a major pain on your dates. You loved that Hyuck had a best friend and someone to comfort him when you couldn’t, but sometimes you just wanted some alone time with your boyfriend and lately, Mark had become increasingly needy with Hyuck. It was like every time he saw the both you together he saw it as an open invitation for him to join. He never picked up on the romantic vibes when it was just you and Donghyuck together.

You had just woken up, looking at the clock that read something close to 10 am, a bright, early morning for you and Hyuck, you turned, cuddling further into his chest in an attempt to absorb his warmth.

“You’re up early.” He grumbled, hand gently rubbing your back.

You pouted, “I think Johnny left the blinds open on purpose.”

Hyuck let out a sleepy laugh, pressing a peck to your forehead, still in the limbo of being awake but also asleep. “I thought I heard voices, good morning!” Mark exclaimed as his head popped into the room. He made his way to the twin-sized bed and made room for himself on a remaining tiny sliver of the bed. Hyuck smiled widely, ever the cuddly baby when he woke up, he threw an arm around Mark to cuddle the both of you.

“Did you change your shampoo or something? You smell good.” Mark asked Hyuck, wiggling over a bit to make room for himself.

“Mark,” you groaned. This bed was not made for three people, heck, it barely fit you and Hyuck comfortably so while Mark was making room for himself you were losing room.

He simply replied with an oops before he and Hyuck carried on with their soap conversation, “Hold up,” Mark paused, sitting up and making even more room for himself. With a sudden bump of his hip against your boyfriend’s led to Hyuck bumping into you, you fell out of bed, landing on the floor with a soft but sudden thud.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry!” Mark apologized, trying and failing to hold in his laughter.

“Baby, are you okay?” Hyuck laughed.

You huffed and sent a glare at the two laughing idiots on the bed, standing from the floor to make your way to the kitchen. “I think Mark is trying to steal my boyfriend.” You stated as your eyes landed on an innocent bystander Johnny.

“Coffee?” He offered simply.

After a busy day of schedules, you took it upon yourself to treat the guys to a nice dinner as a nice relaxing treat for working so hard. The table was filled with conversations and laughs while the food was eaten and the stress was eased away. Hyuck sat beside you, hand on your knee while he spoke to Jaehyun.

“Thank you for the dinner y/n!” Taeyong smiled, leading to the rest of the guys at the filled table to follow up with their own thank you’s and compliments on your choice of food. Even a few compliments about how sweet and amazing you are, which is always nice to hear.

“Thank you, baby, I love you. My favorite person on the whole planet.” Hyuck smiled, nuzzling his head into the space between your neck and your shoulder.

“Whoa! Favorite person?” Mark questioned.

“After you of course,” Hyuck corrected himself as he got up to suffocate Mark in a gigantic hug. The two of them carried on laughing and play fighting as if you weren’t sitting a few feet away with your mouth hanging open. The table burst out laughing upon seeing the interaction between the youngest of the group and your reaction.

“It’s okay y/n, you’re my favorite person tonight.” Taeil laughed, pulling you into a side hug. At least Taeil would give you affection.

“Hyung! Hands off.” Donghyuck glared. There was just no winning with him.

A regular movie night ended up in Hyuck laying on your chest and your hand running through his hair. The couple on screen was being cute and lovey-dovey in a cafe, making the man on your chest let out a longing sigh. “I wanna kiss you in a cafe.” He whined.

“What if I don’t want to kiss you in a cafe?” You replied playfully.

He sat up quickly, caging you underneath him as he leaned in and began to attack you with a million kisses.

“Okay!” you laughed, “Okay! I’ll kiss you wherever you want, now let me breathe.”

He smirked, “I want to cash in on one of those kisses now.”

Before you could fully catch your breath, his lips were pressed to your lips. Your lips moved in sync, just as they had hundreds of times before. Your hand was running through his hair, pulling and tugging in such a way that drove him crazy. One hand was slipping under your shirt, resting on your waist while the other made its way up to cup your cheek. You were pressed further into the couch as the heated kiss got somehow even steamier, with that you tugged a little more roughly on his hair. He pulled away with a groan, chest heaving while he caught his breath. “That was nice.” He smiled bashfully.

You smiled, sitting up while continuing to play with his hair more gently now. “I would hope so, you sounded like you really liked it.”

His forehead met yours, lips brushing gently, just a few more millimeters and you would be kissing again, but of course, “Yo! Dude, you said we were going to watch this together!” You heard Mark exclaim as he plopped himself on the couch.

“Mark! It’s so good, we can restart it right? We weren’t really paying attention anyway.” Hyuck replied cheerfully as he just about jumped away from you and onto Mark.

“Hey y/n, you look a little flushed, I’ll take this so you can cool off,” Mark mumbled while he shoveled popcorn into his mouth, pulling the blanket off you to wrap himself and Donghyuck in it.

You grabbed a pillow from the couch and pressed your face into it to muffle your frustrated groan. “y/n, I know, she seems awful already.” You heard Mark say. This guy…

“Baby, are you almost ready?” You asked Donghyuck. The two of you had plans to go shopping at one, but it was already 2:30 and you were getting bored of sitting around just playing on your phone. There was Hyuck sitting on the couch bumping elbows with his best friend while they played a stupid video game. A video game that they seemed to play every waking second when you weren’t around and now apparently when you were around.

“Just a second baby.” He grumbled, now he had taken the lead, just a few points ahead of Mark.

“You’ve been saying that for like two hours.” You pouted.

“Hey y/n, what are you doing here?” Johnny greeted.

You explained with a sigh and a glare sent your boyfriend’s way that you had planned on going shopping but someone was preoccupied with their other significant other. Johnny laughed, “I’m going to the mall right now with Yuta if you want to come, we have to go by Ikea.” You jumped up, beating Johnny to the door, ready to be on your way out the door without so much as a glance in your busy boyfriend’s direction to bid him goodbye.

Shopping with Hyuck was always an adventure, you had fun every time you went out. He would make you try on the ugliest clothes he could find and then pouted when you did the same for him. However, shopping with Johnny and Yuta was a different type of fun. These two were crazy. It was the most fun you had ever had while shopping. After hours of shopping, it was finally time to go home, but Yuta and Johnny had convinced you to go back to the dorms and join them for dinner. Something about it being their turn to treat you to dinner.

The three of you entered the fifth-floor dorm, laughing while Yuta jokingly had a conversation with the stuffed animal Johnny bought you, he and Yuta had bought matching ones to be a little “family.”

“Food should be here soon, you can set your stuff in our room.” Johnny offered.

You let yourself into his and Hyuck’s shared room, seeing Mark with his guitar on the gaming chair while Hyuck was on the bed snuggling a pillow. He lit up upon seeing you, “Baby!”

“Hey… you guys finally stopped playing your game.” You noted while you set your shopping bags in the corner.

“Where did you go?” Hyuck asked, to which you replied by pointing at the bags. “Well, why didn’t you wait for me? We were gonna go together.”

“I went with Johnny and Yuta because you were so busy playing with Mark, I was ready and so were they, why not?” You shrugged.

“You went on a date with Johnny hyung and Yuta hyung?! You guys took my lover on a date?” Hyuck yelled angrily.

“You were having your own little day with Mark, so what? Nobody wants to wait around an hour and a half for you.” Johnny replied as he set the food down on the table.

You managed to squeeze past Donghyuck, taking your seat at the table beside Yuta who was already mocking Hyuck under his breath, resulting in the both of you covering up your laughs as quickly as you could.

“Baby, don’t laugh at me- hey! What is this? Why do I see three of these things?” Hyuck questioned, waving your brand new stuffed animal around.

“They’re a family!” Yuta smiled before shoveling some food into his mouth.

You thanked them for the dinner before digging into your own food while Hyuck continued to throw a fit in his doorway, “Now, you don’t even love me! You have a family with my hyungs, they stole you from me and you don’t even care. You’re just laughing in my face, I hope you’re happy with them. I hope they make you happier than I made you.”

“Oh my god baby, it was one afternoon for 3 hours. You were busy with Mark and I had to go shopping. I can hang out with my friends like you do.”

“Mark, you distracted me! You drove my baby away from me, shouldn’t you have been with Yuta hyung?” He went off again. Mark replied with his own argument, filling the room with loud yelling and complaints from the two of them. One of them yelled something about being clingy and the other one said something along the lines of ‘look who's talking.’ Meanwhile you were purely focused on eating your food.

You nearly choked on your drink when Donghyuck squeezed himself onto the bench next to you and pressed his cheek against your own, “Take me back! I promise I’ll never choose Mark over you again. I won’t ever even talk to him again if that’s what you want.”

You shook your head quickly, clearing your throat, “Hyuckie, no, calm down. Mark is your best friend, you don’t have to do that.”

“I just realized that Mark has been crashing in on us time, I’m sorry. Forgive me?” He mumbled, still pressing himself to your side.

“Yo! Have I really? Oh my god… you’re right! Ew! You weren’t warm that time we watched a movie right? He was on top of you and I-I saw your lips touch- gross!” Mark gagged.

“That was your fault idiot, that was our alone time.” Your boyfriend glared, wrapping a hand around your waist to pull you impossibly closer. It really was more funny now to you that the both of them came to their senses days later and not on the actual night that everything had happened.

“I don’t think I can look at you guys right now, I feel sick.” Mark held an arm over his stomach as he made his way to the door. Hyuck let out a content noise, his face now pressed fully into your neck while his arms were wrapped around you like a snake suffocating their prey all the while mumbling that Mark would never bother the both of you again, he would make sure of it. And that he would never let you out of his sight or his grasp, at least not while you were near him.

Johnny leaned over the table, whispering “I think you got your boyfriend back.” Yeah, looks like you did.

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop au #kpop reactions #haechan scenarios #donghyuck scenarios #haechan fic #donghyuck fic #haechan imagines #donghyuck imagines #haechan x reader #donghyuck x reader #nct 127 #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct oneshot #nct scenarios #nct au

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itsmaddienotmaddy · 3 years ago

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I wasn’t planning on my game review because I was late to the god damn party (melly working a little TOO hard last night). But I lack the ability to shut up about soccer SO.

US v Australia 2.0 - the battle for BRONZE

AD mf FRANCH. I love her. Okay? What a hard position to step into and she handled it well. Australia is a tough team and they scored bangers. Huge props to AD for holding it down. That one Kerr save?? HUGE. (Also her hair looked GR8, Tierna did a good job)

Becky. Captain Becky. It’s not like I ever doubt her brilliance and she is so SOLID. It’s genuinely impressive and the way she stepped to the ball all game and the clearances she was able to make, tackles, everything. She’s amazing.

And TIERNA. What a tournament for her. I’m sure she didn’t expect as many minutes with how consistent the Abby-Becky combo has been. But with Abby struggling, T stepped up and did so with confidence and class. Like, last game, the PK, that could have rocked anyone’s mental game. But not Tierna. She showed up. Future star. Already a star!

Crystal Dunn everybody. Hardworking, badass, smart as hell, vision, the footwork, I don’t know! Every wonderful quality you can say about soccer players, she HAS it.

Kelley. The birthday gal. She wasn’t leaving without a medal. That much was clear. Could she stay in her feet more? Yeah, I’d prefer it! But her speed to shut down balls out to Foord and her crosses to the middle were great. Did she really miss marking Foord on that header goal? Also Yeah. But we won so I’m not finding it in me to care very much.

Julie. Um. How’d she go from MCL injury, not playing any minutes to p much a full ninety in every game but one? Can I have her doctors number? Can they fix my knee? Whatever the secret sauce was, that takes some grit. She’s not lollygagging around the field. She’s working her ass off winning balls and directing the team. So so solid.

SAM. Hopefully she’s okay! It always hurts my heart a bit when any of them go down. But before the sub off, more glimpses of Sammy Bananas playing more like herself! Winning headers, as she SHOULD, and positioning her body right to love players off the ball. I hope drunk, Lizzo yelling Sammy made an appearance post-game

Lindsey Bulldozer Horan. Pinoe said it. She had herself a game. The Portland Aussie days came in handy and she said Caitlin and Hayley, you may NOT have the ball if you are in my vicinity. Sorry not sorry. She took a moment to find the right weight behind the ball to serve, but when she found the sweet spot, it was good shit. And I know she gets flack for being as strong as she is and going to ground easy. But this game, THIS game. She showed that when she uses her damn muscles and stays up, goodbye. There were 2-3 occasions where she was just powering through, shaking players off like gnats. More of that please.

Rosie. I love when Rose gets fired up. She’s everywhere and running full speed. In the past, she looked fragile, like the wind would blow her over. Not anymore. Rose will go for the crunching tackles, and she is strong enough to body players away. Her passing wasn’t back to full accuracy yet, but her heart seems to always be in it.

Sonnett - smack dab in the middle of this because she got to play MIDFIELD. She did well for her minutes and had a great save in the box near the end. And beyond that. Her energy on the bench is so positive and joyous. She really seems to lift others up and having that on a team is so essential. Love her celebrations

Press. I think there was a collective celebration knowing that Press finally is getting an Oly medal. It was nice to see her big ole smile during the game again. It would have been poetic to see a goal out of her, but it wasn’t her day for that, shots going a little off Target or not having enough oomph. But some excellent runs, movement with the ball, and defensive work. She was certainly one who, if she happened to lose the ball, she was sure as fuck getting it back. Say thank you to your leggies Christen, they served you well.

Tobin. Happy to see her in another game. Knowing that her injury had the potential to be career ending, seeing her play in games feels like a gift. We didn’t get to see her typical Tobin magic, but watching her play sometimes is enough for me. Though, I could be singing a different song if Carli decided not to try for a hatty and was a lil more unselfish in the box. BECAUSE TOBIN WAS WIDE OPEN.

Alex. My heart hurts for her too. To have limited minutes and get hurt during those minutes. Her scoring opportunity was a beautiful run. Didn’t end in a goal but I can appreciate it all the same. It’s not an excuse but I don’t know how she kept her head straight all tournament having to leave Charlie behind for the first time. Like, the most separation since she was born. (And this goes for ALL athlete parents forced to leave their kids behind.) I wouldn’t be able to do it. I hope baby Charles enjoys the bronze medal. I expect an adorable picture of her wearing it. Plz and thx.

Carli - she scored 2 fabulous goals. Those are the only nice words I have for her.

MOVING ON and FINISHING UP

PINOE. Holy fucking shit. Say what we all will about her stamina, but boy does she show up for us when we need her most. I could have said that just about the Olimpico, but then she goes and scores that side volley?? Are you kidding me? Big bummer for Alanna Kennedy in that moment, but oh my GOD. Pinoe rules.

Special game day shout outs to cute wobbly Alyssa celebrations in the stands and to Kristie and Sam Kerr getting to be gay for the world to see. Love that for them.

#uswnt #ad franch #becky sauerbrunn #tierna davidson #crystal dunn #kelley o'hara #julie ertz #sam mewis #lindsey horan #rose lavelle #emily sonnett #christen press #carli lloyd #megan rapinoe #tobin heath #alex morgan #Kristie mewis #sam kerr #alyssa naeher

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crispy-chan · 4 years ago

Text

burning sunflower | yang jeongin

↠ pairing: yang jeongin x gn!reader

↠ genre & warnings: fluff, hanahaki au (vomiting flower petals), lil bit of angst, strangers to friends to lovers, school au, soccer player!jeongin

↠ summary: your only friend Seungmin introduces you to Jeongin, the star of the school's soccer club and one of the most popular guys in the school. you two become friends quickly but you start to catch feelings...

↠ word count: 6.8k

↠ a/n: sooo, this was written for the @newskynet Valentine's day special event. Not sure if it's too late but it's Sunday evening where I live... if I slipped up with the gn! reader, please let me know. feel free to roast me for my lame header, I just decided to put the lectures on how to use GIMP to good use lmao

the prompts I used were: 21 “For me?”, 6. “No one’s ever given me something like this before.” 16. “Will you be my valentine?”

my masterlist

One.

You're not really sure when you started to like Jeongin. I mean, you two were friends, don't get me wrong but that was it. Friends.

That was all he would ever see you as, you thought bitterly. The label that many would love to have but you cursed yourself for it every day. You see, you were first introduced to the smiling boy by your good friend Seungmin who thought you should at least try to make friends other than him, claiming that he won't be with you forever.

***

“Oh come on Min, I thought we'd always be friends,” you whined as he dragged you to a small cafe after school where you would meet his friend.

“Stop acting so childish Y/N, you have to start talking to other people too, you know.”

“But whyyyy? I have you, right?” you giggled at his unamused expression, telling you that he had enough of your shit.

“Nope. You're going to make other friends and that's final. You wouldn't want to really turn into a hermit crab,” he said smugly.

Now it was your turn to look unimpressed. “You don't need to bring up my spirit animal, sheesh. What a low blow, even for someone like you, Min.”

“What was a low blow?” a boy around your age with a cheerful smile approached you giving you a questioning look. You just stood there nervously, staring at him for god knows how long until Seungmin finally broke the ice with a rather awkward cough and proceeded to introduce you guys.

“Y/N, this is Jeongin. Jeongin, this is Y/N,” he pointed at the two of you, swiftly introducing you to the other.

“Um,” you awkwardly extended your hand for a handshake, “hello, I'm Y/N, Seungmin's friend.”

He shook your hand with a firm grip before smiling from ear to ear, “I'm Jeongin, from the neighboring class.”

After you guys settled, you proceeded to order your drinks and snacks. The atmosphere was undeniably awkward, but Seungmin seemed adamant about reaching his goal.

“So look guys, I brought you both here because you both need more friends. You're both introverts who like to hide in their shells and I think you two have a lot in common, so I think this would be beneficial for both parties.”

“So you're basically trying to say that you don't want to hang out with us anymore?”

The innocence in his tone almost fooled you for a second, before you noticed the smug expression on his face and couldn't hold in the burst of laughter.

“Man, I like him already,” you sniggered after you caught your breath, patting a visibly annoyed Seungmin on the back.

“Who would have thought there is someone more savage than you in this school.”

The unimpressed deadpan he gave you made you fall into another fit of giggles, prompting Jeongin to chuckle too.

After the waitress came back with your beverages, you proceeded to distract yourself by making little paper balls and blowing them through your straw into the ceramic pot on the table. You got so distracted, that you spaced out and didn’t notice when Seungmin started waving his hand in front of your face.

“Y/N, Y/N! Are you even listening?”

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment at being caught zoning out. No wonder you had no friends. Slowly lifting your head, you faced Seungmin, waiting for him to repeat what he just said.

“I asked if you wanted to come to watch him play on Saturday.”

“Watch who?” you asked confusedly.

“Jeongin, he's on our school's soccer team,” he deadpanned, annoyed at your lack of concentration.

“Umm, sure...I guess. I'm not much of a sports person but I have nothing to do on the weekend,” you mumbled, mentally checking for any possible plans or chores you could have. Well jokes on you, you had none.

Jeongin beamed at that, taking a sip from his beverage as he pulled out his phone. “I'm glad you can make it - Seungmin would come but he has an exam he has to prepare for,” he explained, “the match starts at five o'clock.”

“Wait, wait, what? There's an exam next week?” you screeched. You were almost positive that there weren't any but dread filled you at even the slightest possibility.

The boy let out a chuckle at your obvious panic, shaking his head. “No, the exam is in two weeks but you know how he is.”

You could feel a weight being lifted from your heart as you sighed in relief. “Thank god, I thought I missed something,” you giggled.

Jeongin smiled at the display. Maybe hanging out with you wouldn't be that bad, at least he'd have someone he knew watching the game other than Seungmin who wasn't exactly the most supportive when it came to sports, opting to rearrange his binder or do his homework instead of watching.

“Thanks, it means a lot to me. I'm always happy if there is someone cheering for me in the stands,” he winked, making your heart skip a beat.

Wait a minute.

Something wasn't right here.

After the two of you bid goodbye to Jeongin, you dragged Seungmin out of the cafe, the gears in your head spinning at maximum speed.

“Wait a second Seungmin, he's not that popular striker who scores most of our school's goals that all the girls swoon over, right? Please tell me I'm right,” you stammered, pulling on his sleeve.

“Relax Y/N, he's really nice-”

“So it's him?!”

“Yes,” he sighed, opening his mouth to say something, probably to convince you to not bail on his friend but you didn't even give him the chance.

“I can't believe it! Why didn't you tell me? You made me agree to accompany one of the most popular guys in our school! His fangirls will kill me,” you hissed. Although you never remembered his name, it was practically basic knowledge that anyone on the soccer team was insanely popular with a cult-like following of crazed fans who went after anyone near them.

“Calm down, ok,” he held you by the shoulders, “ you will be ok, alright? He's a really nice guy who could also use some friends. All the other guys on the team are seniors so it's hard for him to find someone he can talk to face to face,” he tried to explain.

“And don't worry,” he added with a smile, “you don't have to do anything, just come and watch the match and cheer him on a bit, alright?”

“Alright,” you groaned.

Two.

You should have never agreed to come to that soccer game. That ultimately became your downfall. If you had never agreed to this, maybe you wouldn't be like this today.

You sighed, rummaging through your closet and trying to figure out what the hell were you supposed to wear. I mean - what was it even. You had no clue what was going to happen, you only knew that he and his teammates would pick you up on their way to the match.

He texted you the day before that he and the boys would stop by your house at three-thirty to come and collect you. After ten minutes of just standing there, you finally decided on a casual outfit and ran to your door to put your sneakers on. As if on cue, you could hear a car honking right outside your door and your phone lit up with a new text message.

Jeongin [03:32]

We're here.

You slammed the door shut and made your way to the vehicle. You could see a boy you recognized but didn't remember his name, behind the wheel. Inside the van, there were a few other boys scattered around, including Jeongin who sat in the back alone.

“Hi Y/N, hop in,” he beamed, rolling down the window. You smiled back, opening the door and taking a seat next to him.

“So, are you excited?” the boy driving turned to look at you with a grin as he slowly backed the car, driving away from your house.

“Yeah, it's been a while since I watched our team play and from what I’ve heard, you guys are pretty good,” you smiled nervously under their gazes.

They all laughed at that, happy to hear they had a good reputation even amongst the students not involved in sports.

“I'm Chan, by the way, captain of our schools’ soccer club,” the boy behind the wheel stated. Oh, so that's why he seemed so familiar. Practically everyone knew him, and he knew everyone too. He'd often greet people who didn't think he knew they existed and was always extra kind which combined with his captain status led to his immense popularity.

“The grumpy one next to me is Minho,” he pointed to the currently sleeping figure in the passenger's seat.

“Hey! I’m not grumpy!”

Well. Looks like he wasn't asleep after all.

“I'm Jisung,” the cheerful boy in front of you chimed as he turned around and gave you a big smile.

“And I'm Hyunjin.”

“Um, well...I'm Y/N,” you winced at how awkward you sounded but luckily, they didn't seem to mind as they all giggled.

“We know,” came Minho's curt reply, “Jeongin wouldn't shut up about you.”

“Ouch,” Minho screeched as Jeonging threw his shoe at him.

The rest of the car ride went rather smoothly, other than the occasional bickering of the guys but you honestly didn't mind. It was kind of comforting to just let go of everything and laugh along. It surprised you how nice they were, you kind of imagined them as selfish pricks but that clearly wasn't the case.

At one point, Hyunjin and Jisung started arguing over which color uniform they should wear for the match. You watched with a hint of amusement, that was until they turned to you for help.

“But look, if we choose the red one, Chan will be able to live out his dream as Christiano Bangnaldo,” Jisung pleaded as Chan let out an embarrassed chuckle.

“Christiano Bangnaldo? Wow, I'm wheezing.”

“Exactly,” Hyunjin cut you guys off, “that's why we should choose the blue one, it goes better with my skin tone.”

“Oi, nobody cares about your damn skin tone, I want to see Christiano Bangnaldo,” Minho stated loudly, completely shutting up the younger two. Welp, seems like it was decided. What Minho wants, Minho gets.

After you finally arrived at the dimly lit school stadium, you made your way out of the car as Jeongin held the door open for you. Smiling, you thanked him for the kind gesture before finally looking around. And your socks were pretty much blown off.

Now you were wondering, why you never came here before. The field was slowly starting to fill with other students slash players but that didn't manage to hide the undeniable beauty of this place. The bleachers were surprisingly clean, unlike most high school stadiums. The dim lights cast a nice glow over the stadium, giving it a really homey feel. You looked around in awe, still surprised by the atmosphere of this place.

“Have you ever been here during the night?” a lean figure stood behind you, observing you and effectively cutting off your train of thought.

“Nope. This is the first time,” you breathed out.

“That's what I thought. It looks completely different when it's dark,” he chuckled, turning around to head to the locker rooms.

“So... I have to head back so we can all change. You can take a seat wherever you want, I'd recommend the first row,” he winked cheekily, accompanying the gesture with a throaty laugh.

You blushed at that, choosing to snuggle into your shirt, to hide your embarrassment. How could he be so cheesy so casually? He must have noticed your slight shiver as he slipped out of his varsity jacket.

Before you could even protest, he had already placed the jacket around your shoulders, patting your head. You opened your mouth to object but he cut you off, “it's ok Y/N, I’m not gonna need it anyways. And by the way...thank you for coming, I really appreciate it.”

You smiled, realizing that something that seemed so pointless, so small could mean so much to someone else. He seemed genuinely excited to have someone cheering for him, even if he had tens of fangirls doing just that. You huffed in the chilly wind, lifting your head up to gaze at him.

“No problem Jeongin, I'm happy I came.”

Something about how he smiled at you, stirred your insides, made your heart skip a beat. Your eyes trailed after him, lingering on his receding figure. You didn't look away until he stepped into the locker room, the door pretty much obstructing your gaze and snapping you out of this trance.

Looking around, you could sense that the stadium was slowly filling up. If you wanted to have a seat, you would have to be quick. You ran down to the first row seats but with a sigh realized that most of them were already taken. You were about to give up and run up to find a spot in the next row but a sharp tug on your sleeve stopped you.

Turning around, you spotted a boy, maybe a year or two older than you, looking at you with a curious face. You tried to pry out of his hold, tugging on your hand but he didn't let go. Right when you were about to scream, he finally spoke, “are you Jeongin's friend? We saved you a seat,” he motioned to the spot next to him.

“How the hell do you know that?” you asked, confusion evident.

“Well,” he chuckled, “the jacket…”

Oh. right. You were wearing Jeongin's varsity jacket. You almost forgot.

“So… are you and Jeongin-”

“No,” you cut him off before he could even finish the sentence, “I'm a friend of a friend who couldn't make it today so I came instead.”

“Oh, you see - I thought, Hyunjin said-” he suddenly stopped, not bothering to continue, instead opting to tug you down to sit next to him.

“Watch,” was all he said.

You sat there obediently, watching the game and occasionally cheering Jeongin on, whenever he passed the ball or attempted to score. He was really good, especially considering that he was the youngest on the team.

During the less intense parts of the game, you made small talk with the boy next to you. He introduced himself as Jinyoung. He was the captain of the lacrosse team and a good friend of Chan and Hyunjin. You found out that as a captain, he would attend almost all the other sports events that his friends partook in, claiming it to be common courtesy.

Both of you refocused your attention on the game. Your team seemed to be on the offensive again, Hyunjin passing the ball to Jisung, who maneuvered around one of the opposing team’s defenders before eventually passing to Minho.

Just when he was about to kick it, another leg appeared from the side, tripping him and making him fall flat on his face. He managed to at least stick out his hands so they would take the brunt of the fall but he struggled to get up on his feet.

Before the other boy could get away with the ball, the referee blew the whistle, signalizing a foul and stopping the game.

“What happened? Is he ok?” you asked, frantically scrambling up and leaning into the field from behind the barrier.

“Don't worry,” Jinyoung chuckled, “he'll be fine. They'll probably be getting a penalty kick. And I bet you a hundred bucks that Jeongin will be the one to take the shot.”

“Wait really? Is he that good?” you surprisedly inquired.

“Yeah, he's the best shot on the team.”

Now you were excited. You heard that he was good but never realized to what extent.

Jinyoung was right. You could see the coach huddled with the players in a circle, probably talking strategy or something before Chan patted Jeongin on the back. They all withdrew from the group circle leaving Jeongin to stand in front of the ball and the other team's goalkeeper to hunch down in preparation for the kick.

The referee blew the whistle, signalizing the resuming of the game. Jeongin took a few steps back before bursting into a run, kicking the ball into the upper left corner with utmost control.

You all stood up in anticipation, the kick seeming almost as if in slow motion, you could see the goalkeeper jump to his left, desperate to catch the ball before it landed in the net but his attempt was futile.

The kick he delivered was far too good to be caught, the expert technique and control visible to any onlooker. Paired with a huge roar of applause, you could all see the ball land in the goal with a thud.

Everyone erupted in cheers, including you and the atmosphere was great. You could see a few photographers who probably worked for the local sports columns, their cameras clicking like crazy, trying to capture the moment of glory of this young high schooler.

All of his teammates pulled Jeongin into a collective embrace, Chan slipping off his goalkeeper gloves before hoisting the boy on his shoulder.

In the heat of the moment, Jeongin looked through the spectators, trying to find the person that came to watch him. When he spotted you, cheering him on with a big grin, he couldn't help the fond smile from appearing. After he finally caught your gaze, he shot you a friendly wink, laughing at your flustered reaction.

“Wow, just friends you say,” Jinyoung teased, witnessing the whole exchange.

“Oh shut up! We met like a week ago.”

***

Fast forward to the end of the match. You guys won two to none, the second goal scored by Minho with the assistance of Jeongin and Hyunjin. Everyone was excited, the adrenalin and momentum of the game still hasn't passed. The smell of sweat and coke (coca-cola!) heavy in the air as you sat with the team on the benches and reminiscenced the game.

“Jeongin! That goal of yours was really great, you had so much control over the ball. All those hours of practice have paid off!”

Jeongin shyly hid his face, all the praise from his captain making him feel fuzzy from the inside.

“Yeah, everyone in the bleachers froze in anticipation when you kicked the ball,” you chimed in, feeling the need to join the praise bandwagon for the boy, “it was really cool.”

After that, Jeongin continued to receive pats on the back from fellow teammates, a few coaches, and random people that you didn't even know who came to congratulate him on his flawless playing today.

Overall, everyone had a great time. The stars were out and you all just wanted to soak up the atmosphere. So this is what having a social life during your teenage years meant? It made you wonder, how much were you missing out on. You wished time would just freeze, allowing you to live in this moment forever. You were gonna have to thank Seungmin for this later.

Jeongin, who was seated next to you must have noticed you zoning out. He placed his palm on your shoulder and asked, “are you ok Y/N? Do you want us to take you home?”

You blinked. Once. Twice. And only after the third time did you realize, that you still haven’t answered his question. You smiled before letting the reassuring words slip out of your mouth, “I'm fine. Great actually. Can't remember when was the last time I had so much fun.”

He sighed in relief, glad that you were having fun. From what he could tell (and from what Seungmin told him) you didn't have many friends nor did you hang out with people. The only person you considered a friend was Seungmin and he wasn't exactly a social butterfly himself, opting to study in most of his free time.

All of you ended up chatting until nine pm, completely forgetting about the time and simply enjoying yourselves. You checked your phone at nine-thirty, gasping in shock at the time.

“Everything ok?” Chan asked with concern.

“Um, yeah. Just didn’t realize it was so late. I should probably get going,” you muttered nervously, picking up all your belongings and shoving them into your bag.

“Oh right, it's quite late already. We'll give you a ride, right Chan?” Jeongin turned to his captain.

“Of course. Let's all get going. Chop chop. C'mon Hyunjin, you can tell them about your skincare routine next time,” he pulled the whining boy away from his third victim today.

You packed yourselves into the van, the seating arrangements only slightly different from on your way here. Hyunjin must have been still pissed at Chan for cutting his skincare speech short because he wouldn't shut up about it on the way to the parking lot. He kept going on and on about how moisturizing is important, even if you have oily skin. The captain dismissed his rant with a laugh and started the engine as the complaining boy sat down in the passenger seat.

At some point, Into the unknown came on shuffle and all the boys except Jeongin started singing. You burst out in laughter at their failed attempts at singing the high notes, seeing Jeongin hide his face in embarrassment.

“Guys! Come on, stop it,” he pleaded but the older boys only smirked in response and started singing even louder. By now, you were dying from laughing so hard, Jeongin having to pat your back aggressively so you won't choke on your own spit.

After they got bored of singing, you became their main talking point and they kept asking you borderline intrusive questions until Jeongin told them off, seeing how you turned slightly uneasy. Because of the typical Saturday evening traffic, you ended up falling asleep on the shoulder of a slightly pink Jeongin. He became super nervous once he realized you weren't awake and tried his best not to move and to hold you steady on every speed bump.

It took about fifteen more minutes for you guys to arrive in front of your place. Chan parked on the street and turned to say goodbye.

“Thanks for coming, Y/N. We're glad you came. Hope you had fun too,” he smiled, his dimples making an appearance.

“Jeongin especially,” Jisung whispered not-so-quietly and squeaked from the death glare Chan shot him.

You laughed softly, your cheeks bunching up as you waved them goodbye.

When you were laying in bed, your mind wandered off to today's events. As much as you didn't want to admit it, Seungmin was right. You really enjoyed yourself.

***

It was a sunny Monday morning when you were walking up the steps to your school entrance. You spent the rest of the weekend thinking about the Saturday game, not yet sure, how you felt about this newfound hobby. Maybe you should really spend more time with people. You also washed up Jeongin's varsity jacket that you forgot to return on Saturday evening.

You held the paper bag containing the washed piece of clothing in your right hand as you pushed the entrance door with your left. It felt all too easy, almost as if the door opened on its own. And you realized that no, you didn't grow stronger from that one arm toning workout you did yesterday as you saw a veiny hand press into the glass.

You turned to face that mystery person, only to sigh in relief as you were left face to face with Chan.

“Oh, hello,” you smiled, greeting him rather timidly. Because let's face it - you weren't exactly sure if they even considered you a friend. You were just some random girl that came to their soccer game.

Thankfully, he seemed to consider you a friend too as he gave you his dimpled smile, “hey Y/N, how was your weekend?”

“It was pretty good. I had lots of fun on Saturday and yesterday I just chilled,” you beamed.

“Same here,” he laughed, “we all pretty much passed out when we got home- oh shoot, the bell's off, I have to get to class. See you around.”

With a simple wave, he dashed out of your sight, turning around the corner to climb up the stairs to his classroom. You then remembered that you too had class and if you didn't wanna be late, you'd have to make a dash for it too.

***

It was during lunch break that you remembered that you had to return Jeongin his jacket. You nervously walked to his homeroom, anxious about what was going to happen. Will he think you're weird for coming to his class? Will he be embarrassed when you come up to him in front of all his friends? You sighed as you entered the classroom. It seemed like nobody noticed you at first, everyone was way too immersed with their own stuff. You could see that they all got along, the room booming with chatter and laughter.

Jeongin's table was near the window, a girl's chair turned to face him as they both engaged in a conversation. You awkwardly shuffled a few meters away, not wanting to interrupt. It was a truly wrecking moment, you even considered just turning around and disappearing without a trace but Jeongin noticed you and gave you a wide smile.

“Hey Y/N. What brings you here?”

You stood there for a few seconds before you finally remembered, what you came for. “Umm, hi. Just wanted to return this,” you handed him the bag, “I washed it and everything. Thanks for borrowing it.”

His eyes flashed in recognition after he peeked into the bag and he immediately returned the bag to your hand.

“It's fine,” he mumbled with slightly rosy cheeks (not that you noticed), “you can have it, I don't mind.”

You stared at him in shock, mouth slightly agape to which he awkwardly laughed. You were about to protest but the bell rang and Jeongin muttered that you should better get back to class.

You nodded in embarrassment, not even being able to look him in the eye as you hastily waved and ran out of the classroom.

You were mentally beating yourself up for that, you should have never come to his class, he must have been embarrassed that someone like you came to his class, everyone was probably used to him hanging around popular people like that girl he was talking to.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. You stuffed the paper bag with his jacket into your backpack, what were you even supposed to do with it - did he not hear that you washed it or something?

When you arrived home, you hung the jacket on one of the hooks near the door and headed to your room to get some homework done.

Three

It was a few months later that you and Jeongin officially became friends. During that time, the both of you hung out a lot more, courtesy of Seungmin and the rest of the soccer team who thought the two of you made great friends. It started out simple at first: getting coffee together, working on homework, and cursing that physics assignment you both had no clue how to finish.

Times like these made you realize how much of a fun person Jeongin was. There was never a dull moment around him yet despite his easygoing and fun nature, you noticed he preferred to keep to himself, only hanging out with his closest circle of friends. A category which you seemed to now fall under too.

Despite all your anxiousness about whether you were even “worthy” (as some would say) of being his friend, Jeongin always told you that he didn't care if you weren't labeled as popular by the rest of the student body.

“Y/N, we've had this conversation many times already. I really couldn't care less that you aren't a popular cheerleader and don't have Gucci bags,” he smiled, pushing a stray strand of hair that fell in front of your face, behind your ear.

“I know, I know. Sorry Jeongin, I know you aren't like that. I just get really anxious when those kids bury me with their gazes when I dare look at you.”

“Look, if anyone is bothering you, please tell me ok? I'll talk to them. I don't want you to suffer from being my friend,” he smiled, waving the waitress over to order for you guys.

“Don't worry, Jeongin. I promise I will,” you smiled, turning back to your physics workbook. The homework was on magnetic motors or something like that and you had no clue how to do it.

“Umm, do you know the answer to question three?” you asked, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Nope. I fell asleep during that class,” he admitted with a chuckle.

“Oh come on. You can't do that. You should pay attention.”

“Like you paid any,” he pointed, taking a sip of his lemonade.

“Excuse me!” you gasped, “I did pay attention. I just didn't understand any of it. That's different.”

“Hmm. It sure is.”

Four

You were leaning over the sink in your bathroom, blood and flower petals splattered all over as you tried your best to get it all out of your throat. The petals were bright yellow. Sunflower petals.

How ironic, you thought. Sunflowers represented adoration, longevity, and pure thoughts. Just like how you felt towards Jeongin. And how he'd never feel towards you.

You bit back a sob as you choked on even more of the soft petals. In a sense, you were quite lucky - had you been coughing up any other flower (especially roses), it would probably hurt way more. But that still didn't mean that it wasn't painful. Your breath heaved as you tried your best to take deep breaths, your constricted lungs filled with petals, not exactly helping.

You have been suffering from the hanahaki disease for a few weeks now. You always thought it was a myth from the internet, never once have you expected to run to the bathroom at three am to hurl petals into the sink. It started slowly at first. You'd only cough out some petals and drops of blood, but it got progressively worse.

You'd have days that you wouldn't be able to even get out of bed with the exhaustion you felt. All you wanted to do was sleep and forget about the cute boy with dimples. But no, you could never be angry at Jeongin. He was an absolute sweetheart who was nothing but kind to everybody. You couldn't exactly blame him for being around other people. That's right, you didn't know if they were dating but he seemed to hang around this girl called Lia a lot recently, the one he was talking to months prior. They seemed to be good friends too, apparently knowing each other for years now. You tried your best to suppress the jealousy that was rising in you, along with the petals.

You quickly turned back to the sink, just in time for it to catch the new batch of bloodied petals. Even thinking about her made your heart ache and you absolutely despised yourself for that. Lia was nothing but a sweet girl that always smiled at you in the hallway and occasionally made small talk with you.

***

A week later you were walking down the corridor, looking for the vending machine. It seems like they recently moved it from its original location, in front of the lab. You turned around the corner, your eyes bulging out of your skull at what you saw.

Jeongin and Lia were hunched near the lockers, whispering and giggling at something. He said something, making the girl shake her head in denial as he arched his brow. You couldn't watch anymore, quickly running back and abandoning your original plan of finding the vending machine and instead, running to the bathroom. You slammed the door shut, flinging yourself over the toilet as you vomited heaps of the yellow petals, this time mixed with some green leaves and stems. This was by far the worst case, you have never thrown up green before.

You wiped your dry lips, attempting to take deep breaths and calm your heart. It was horrible what seeing the two together did to you. You couldn't believe you lost control like that only a few meters away from him. What would happen if he saw you?

You had to suppress it. He could never find out.

***

It was a truly painful day. Tomorrow was Valentine's Day and you could see all the stores decorated with pinks and reds, hearts everywhere, and signs welcoming couples with tempting discounts.

Your stomach did flips as you walked the path to the school door. It hurt. It hurt so fucking much. You contemplated calling sick the next day and not going to school at all, but you had an important paper to hand in and the professor was especially grumpy and wanted it on his desk on that particular day.

You trudged up the steps with a frown, when you heard your name being called.

“Hey, Y/N,” Chan called after you, running up the stairs to catch up.

“Oh hey, Chan,” you mumbled, mustering up your best fake smile but he still managed to see through it.

“Is everything ok?” he asked, obviously concerned.

“Yeah, just a little tired,” you dismissed, leaving him and running towards your locker.

Good job Y/N, you groaned, now you can't even hang out with your other friends.

You spent the rest of the day avoiding the whole group, trying your best to overpower the need to throw up petals. You didn't want to repeat the previous incident in school. Jeongin must have by now noticed how distant you were. He probably thought you hated him by how you kept avoiding him for the past month.

He probably wanted to ask you to come to his game tomorrow which you sure as hell weren't planning to attend. On top of the fact that you could literally shower the whole stands with petals, it was also going to be Valentine's day and there was no telling if the boy was going to ask Lia out or something like that.

And your heart wouldn't be able to handle that.

You ran home after your last period. Your stomach growled at the lack of lunch but you figured it was better than running into one of them.

You stomped into the bathroom, not even taking off your shoes as you threw up into the bin. There was more blood today. There was no telling of what would happen tomorrow, the romantic atmosphere would probably only serve as a bitter reminder of your broken heart.

You wiped your lips, deciding that taking a shower would be in your best interest. After that, you sat by your desk and made some finishing touches to the essay due tomorrow.

Maybe you would just come to turn it in and then dip…

***

You woke up with a strangled cry, the dream you had still playing in your head. With a groan you slumped out of bed, ready to prepare for the day but to your horror, you realized that you overslept. You had approximately ten minutes before you had to leave. You brushed your teeth, shoved some toast down your throat, and gathered your things. With a sense of urgency, you threw on jeans, a blouse, and some sneakers, not feeling like dressing up.

You had to leave immediately. Like now. You grabbed your backpack, quickly checking the essay was there, took your keys off the hook, and grabbed the first jacked you could find. It was dark blue (and very soft) meaning it would match almost anything you had on and since the weather was chilly, you wouldn't want to risk catching a cold.

Running out the door, you pulled it on and slung the backpack on your shoulder, running to the bus stop. Only then did you notice the engraved initials YJ on the sleeve and cursed yourself for bringing the wrong one. You would have taken it off right away if it wasn't for the blasting AC.

You stomped up the chairs, annoyance coursing through your veins. This day couldn't get any worse. Still thinking about leaving after handing in the assignment, you almost avoided going to your locker but remembered the jacket. You'd just drop it in and head to the professor's office.

You dug around for your keys until you finally found them in the bottom of your backpack. You slid it in the keyhole and opened the locker.

You were surprised by a giant teddy plushie and a box of chocolates. Your eyes widened in surprise before you heard a loud “surprise”.

Turning around, you were face to face with a grinning Jeongin. He stood over you with a large bouquet of beautiful sunflowers and the rest of the team, Lia, and Seungmin were all behind him cheering and throwing confetti.

To say that you were in shock would be a massive understatement. The look of utter confusion must have been plastered on your face as Jeongin smiled and handed you the bouquet.

“For me?”

He nodded slowly, examining your expression. You took the flowers from him, lowering your head to smell them.

“No one's ever given me something like this before,” you croaked, tears beginning to well in your eyes.

Jeongin nervously stood there before grabbing your hand and looking you in the eyes.

“Y/N, we've been friends for some time now but I wanted to ask you… Will you be my valentine?”

“Of course I will,” you whispered, almost jumping at him and swallowing him in a bone-crushing hug.

“I've liked you for some time now,” you admitted after a while, burying your head into his chest and enjoying the sudden way you seemed to breathe easier, not feeling the itchy petals in your throat anymore.

“Same here,” he laughed.

“Wait really? Since when?” you asked perplexed.

“Since I gave you my jacket,” he grinned, “I'm glad to see that you're making proper use of it.”

“Come on everybody, let's leave them alone,” Chan hollered, dragging everybody away to give you guys some privacy.

“I'm sorry if it seemed like I was avoiding you for the past week. I was planning with Lia on how to do, how to do all of this, you know,” he pointed at all the gifts he got you.

“Thank you,” you smiled again, “I really appreciate it Jeongin.”

“Do you want to come to the game today? I'd introduce you to all my other friends.”

“I'd love to.”

He seemed to be thinking about something, his nose scrunching up before he looked at you and placed his hands on your waist.

You peered at him through your lashes as he slowly leaned down, pressing his plush lips to yours and sealing them into a kiss. You closed your eyes, leaning down to get even closer to him as you gripped his shirt for support. The kiss was short but sweet and you were startled apart by a loud wolf whistle.

You turned around, cheeks burning in embarrassment at Jisung doing kissy faces and Hyunjin laughing in the background. You almost jumped away and Jeongin just chuckled.

“The game starts two hours after school. Do you want to go on like a proper date before that?”

“Sure,” you smiled, “I should probably get going, I have to submit this essay,” you waved the piece of paper that counted for nearly half of your final grade for the quarter.

“Don't forget the flowers,” he pointed to the bouquet.

“About that, maybe I should leave it in my locker. You know - to not start anything,”

“Y/N,” he said with a serious tone, “I don't care what the others think. They'll know by the evening anyways.”

You were startled at first, but then realized that he was right. No more caring about what others thought about you.

Now it was just you and Jeongin. You liked the sound of that.

“Okay,” you smiled, picking up the flowers, “I'll meet you at two in front of the lockers.”

With a smile, you walked in the direction of your classroom. After weeks of pain and sorrow, you finally felt like everything fell into place.

***

a/n: aaaaaaah. idk why all my oneshots so far are for jeongin but nvm. hope you liked it. it couldn't resist the idea of soccer player jeongin ;)

218 notes · View notes

sneezefiction · 4 years ago

Text

of night owls & early birds

Kuroo x Reader

desc: Kuroo, your roommate and longtime best friend, likes you but he really dislikes your sleep schedule. alternatively, your crush gets up way too early and you “suffer the consequences.”

a/n: the irony of working on this fic at 5 am doesn’t escape me… but it also hasn’t assuaged my awful sleep patterns. i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: school/general anxiety, crass/offbeat humor (jokes about planning your own funeral), idk if you’re scared of love don’t read this - it’s very fluffy.

wc: 3.6k

--- You’re screwed, you think, as a light flickers on just outside of your room. It illuminates the carpet underneath your doorway with a warm orange tint.

And though it shouldn’t make your heart jump into your throat, it does.

You’d promised, swore to Kuroo, that you’d be asleep by 2 am - and to him, even that was a stretch. But he should count himself lucky that you’d even agreed to his demands at all.

After all, he is well-versed in the world of night owls.

Kenma, though maybe not your kindred spirit, shares at least a couple of qualities with you. Kuroo likes refer to these “qualities” as crimes.

One of these crimes (and quite possibly Kuroo’s least favorite) is your god-awful sleep schedule. And you’re a repeated offender.

There was only so much nagging and bickering you could take before you’d cracked and told exactly him what he wanted to hear. In a flurry of words, you’d agreed to turn off your laptop, close up your textbooks and actually put your head to a pillow.

You also may have been bribed.

To sweeten this deal, Kuroo had promised to buy you pizza this upcoming Friday, given that you actually did get some rest.

But as you reluctantly lift your phone, the glass screen glowing a little too brightly, you realize that it’s already 5:30 am.

You grimace.

It’s Tuesday morning. Meaning that the repetitive beeping across the hall is Kuroo’s alarm.

Your lips press into a firm line. Most birds don’t even get up at such a godless hour.

You can’t help but wonder what it’s like to have a functional morning routine. Or a morning routine at all.

Leaning back in your plastic desk chair, you squeeze your eyes shut.

It stings.

You probably got so caught up staring at the blob-like words on your computer screen that, somewhere in the process, your body had forgotten how to blink.

And while the tension in your neck and shoulders is painful, it’s nothing in comparison to the festering guilt of not listening to your longtime best friend and now roommate (a suspiciously well-intentioned college boy who had somehow managed to win your heart over the course of this fall semester.)

Thinking back, working on your final English assignment at midnight wasn’t the brightest of ideas. It wasn’t even due for another week. But as due dates loomed, the impending fear of a bad grade had begun to burrow deeply within you.

If you could just pump the brakes on deadline anxiety, you wouldn’t feel so pressured to type incoherent sentences at odd and empty hours of the night.

And maybe Kuroo wouldn’t feel the need to coerce you into a firmer sleep schedule. Though you do find this caring habit of his to be inexplicably endearing.

Thus, the prickling feeling continues to infiltrate your restless mind and the brewing concoction of anxiety and guilt in your tummy makes you feel uneasy.

But before you can sneak into bed and tuck yourself inconspicuously under the covers, you hear a floorboard creak.

As if on instinct, you hold in a breath.

Kuroo isn’t one to forget about little promises. Of course, he’d want to know if you’d made good on your side of the deal.

Gently, you close your laptop and swivel your chair to face the door. You still your movements, keeping your body taut against the back of your chair.

More soft steps fall just outside of your room.

Your eyes can’t pick a place to land, so they choose to wander. And with a quick scan of your room, it doesn’t take you long to realize that your bedside lamp had been left on - an instant giveaway.

You begin planning for your funeral.

However, if it were up to you, you wouldn’t go out this way. You prepare yourself for death by interrogation or shame-induced coma.

Regrettably, neither options seem very interesting to you. If you ask politely, maybe your friends will engrave a portion of an epic poem into your gravestone just to make your passing seem more sophisticated. Yeah, that sounds nice and pretentious.

Okay, you might be overdramatizing things - Kuroo would never send you to your grave. But that doesn’t change the fact that your psyche likes to play tricks on you in the wee hours of the morning and that the eerie quality of the atmosphere somehow reminds you of a cemetery.

As you sort through who-gets-what on your will, there’s a not so sudden knock on your door. The soft tap makes your heart skip for two reasons:

The first being that you still haven’t gotten used to the fluttering in your chest from him being present all the time. Developing a crush on him (and suspecting feeling on his side) had made you a little jumpier over the past few months.

And the second had to do with the fact that you were actually going to have to talk to him about this. To apologize for being a bold-faced liar. It wasn’t clear to you whether you’d be teased or reprimanded. And honestly? You’re not sure which option would feel worse.

So you take a breath and steel yourself.

“Y/n?” A gravelly voice sounds from outside your room.

It’s tainted with sleep. You shiver.

There’s a preemptive sigh, “C’mon y/n, your light is on. I know you’re awake.”

You’ve been caught, so there’s no point in prolonging it.

“...You can come in.” You reply meekly, clenching and unclenching your fists.

The door cracks open.

That soft orange hall light floods into your room and directly into your eyes. With a squint, you try to fully visualize Kuroo. He’s positioned himself so that he’s leaning in your doorway with his arms crossed.

Before coming to grips with the situation, you scan the boy up and down. Amusingly, you realize that he has to duck his head just to fit underneath the door header - he really is tall. You have to wonder if he’ll ever stop growing.

Aside from his intensified bedhead (which doesn’t shock you) and the sleepiness in his eyes, he looks normal. But you must look positively spooked, because the moment he sees you, there’s a flicker of humor in his golden eyes… and an almost invisible smirk.

At least he isn’t angry. That fact alone allows you to let out the breath you’ve been holding in. Anger isn’t really a trait you’d ascribe to him anyway.

“It’s funny…” He wonders aloud, “I thought we’d agreed to something yesterday.” Kuroo brings a mocking hand to his chin in a thinking motion.

Your body naturally begins to shrink into your seat. You want to sigh, protest, explain yourself… anything to keep him from lecturing you. But, technically, you deserve this.

“I’m pretty sure you promised me you’d be in bed, asleep,” He emphasizes “by 2 am…”

“And” he adds, motioning evenly to your set up, “I highly doubt you’re up early just to get work done.”

You bite your lip while gripping and releasing the fabric of your sweatpants.

Kuroo isn’t a mind reader by any extent, but the body has a language of its own. Right now, your actions are murmuring signs of discomfort. And exhaustion, according to your dark circles.

Kuroo heaves out something between a sigh and a yawn before he takes another couple of steps into your room.

The sound of mattress springs and rustled bed sheets gets you to turn your head toward him, though you hesitate to meet his gaze.

He makes himself comfortable.

This is a familiar scene, Kuroo invading your space. Well, it’s less of an invasion and more of an unspoken agreement that the both of you can ‘come and go as you please’ in regards to bedrooms, granted that the “invader” knocks first.

Essentially, if Kuroo wanted company, he would find his way to you and plop himself on the edge of your bed. You would do likewise. The interaction could last 5 minutes or 3 hours depending on your mental stamina that day.

In a way, it mimicked your childhood - going over to Kenma’s and knocking relentlessly on his bedroom door until he finally let you and Kuroo tumble through the doorway together. The only difference now is in the way that you spend time together. Conversations become deeper a lot faster. Belly-laughs after a miserable day of classes are considered sacred. Study sessions are done shoulder to shoulder and with a myriad of disgusted faces when frustrated with a particularly tricky problem.

But this is different from your usual conversations. It’s sickeningly early, you haven’t slept a wink, and a tidal wave of stress from this entire semester is finally crashing into you.

“I’m sorry,” You start softly, fiddling with your fingers, “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about this expository essay I’ve been working on and my mind is totally numb. I’m so stressed out by all of these-”

“-Classes.” He finishes for you.

You swallow, bobbing your head softly in confirmation.

“I get it.”

And just by looking at him, you know he understands. For someone so laid back and put together, Kuroo’s eyes could speak a novel’s worth of emotion and information at any given moment.

“But you’ve already spent more than enough time on it.”

Have I really? Have I actually done enough? Because it feels like I’m failing. Like I can’t seem to finish what I’ve started. I can’t even complete this paper.

But at least Kuroo sounds resolute.

He’s stating a fact, not an opinion.

And he’s not trying to be unempathetic. He does get it, he really does.

But Kuroo also sees how hard you work already. And he knows all too well that there’s only so much work you can get done in one night. You’ve got enough on your plate even without your classes, so having the extra academic pressure is just the cherry on top.

“Mm,” you hum, “yeah, I guess you of all people would know.” You hunch over and rest your elbows on your thighs, using your hands to prop your head up.

He’d been there at your most and least productive moments. On days when you were cranking out a few thousand words and nights when you could only jot down a few sentences. Hell, Kuroo had even volunteered to help you edit and format it when the time came. What kind of person offers to do that before they’ve even been asked to?

It’s just another feature of his charm, you suppose.

But you still feel stuck. Like you’re a boat stranded in the middle of the ocean and you just can’t seem the muster up the strength to pull up the anchor. The anxiety lingers.

“...It just doesn’t feel like it’s ever enough, y’know?” You breathe out.

There it is. Finally out in the open.

And Kuroo hums thoughtfully to himself.

He’s been there.

Not knowing if the effort he put into his work was having any actual effect. Being unsure as to when he should stop taking responsibility for something. Putting work, classes, and people before himself.

It’s draining; a swirling spin-cycle of exhaustion.

But he’s also been learning that “enough” is subjective. So he decides to say just that.

“Enough is a pretty vague word, don’t you think?”

You blink.

Yeah, you suppose it is.

Hopefully this isn’t another one of his bizarre epiphanies - the kind that makes you think your brain is going to implode. Sometimes Kuroo could be a little too philosophical for his and your own good. But you humor him anyway.

Shifting in your seat, you give him a stiff nod.

Satisfied with your understanding, he proceeds with his thought.

“What I mean is that we probably have totally different definitions of enough...” he drawls on, “... and different standards too.”

“Okay...”

“What I mean is that-” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, “-what’s ‘enough’ to you may not be ‘enough’ to me. And vice versa.”

Kuroo tilts his head back, brows furrowing in thought. He’s grasping for the right way to put it.

“Y/n, I think you’ve done enough. You’ve worked hard,” he points out, “and I don’t think I know anyone who deserves a break more than you do.”

That makes you pause. You lift your head up to catch his gaze - his eyes are already studying your expression. Something inside of you stops functioning because never have you seen such raw sincerity. Or maybe you have, but you’re only just now noticing it.

He gives you a gentle smile. It makes your chest ache.

“You mean it?” You half-whisper.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

You’ve known this for years now, but Kuroo truly has a way with words. They had the ability to pierce like a harpoon or stick sweetly to you like warm honey. Even with a few (thousand) shitty jokes littered throughout your conversations, it’s only natural to be awestruck by him. By his ability to make even the most awkward of situations a little more bearable. How he subliminally knows how to soothe and temper you. You think he would make a really great businessman - he’s quite persuasive; a real salesperson.

One part of you wants to apologize to him again. Another part wants to jump up and kiss him. To tear up and cry in his arms with relief. You chalk these potential reactions up to exhaustion and hormones… but you don’t write them off entirely.

Because suddenly being 3 feet apart feels like miles. And your bed is looking terribly comfortable.

“Mind if I join you?” You ask, but you’re already moving from your seat.

He gives you an indifferent shrug - though he feels anything but.

“It’s your bed.”

Oh, you’re well aware of that fact. You can already feel heat rising to your face.

You stand up slowly, raising your arms to the ceiling in one final attempt to stretch. Then softly, you place a knee to the mattress and wedge yourself on the rest of the way until you’re sitting crisscrossed in front of him. He shifts his torso so that it’s facing you.

And now that you’re finally eye to eye, you can breathe.

He may be your crush, but you feel strangely comfortable in his presence. You always have. It’s part of what makes Kuroo... well, Kuroo. He embodies security while still pushing you out of your comfort zone. And for that, you’re grateful.

You break the silence.

“I really am sorry,” you echo your earlier apology.

You undoubtedly are. And you’re not sure why it feels like such a heavy thing to say over something as menial as a good night’s sleep.

“Hey, hey,” He soothes, reaching a hand over to ruffle your hair, “it’s no big deal, alright?”

You send him a half-hearted glare but it immediately breaks into a soft smile. His hand lingers for a moment longer than it should before he draws it away. You miss the teasing touch.

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to maintain eye-contact, but even as you look away, you note that his eyes remain concentrated on you. You can’t tell if it’s you who has moved closer or if he has. Either way, those few inches of distance have narrowed by a decent margin.

“I honestly just wanted you to get some rest. You’ve had it rough and by the looks of it-” He scans your face like he’s trying to diagnose you with something.

“Hey, watch it-” You warn, narrowing your eyes.

You already know you look tired. Kuroo loves reminding you of that in his own little way.

He smirks playfully, continuing anyway.

“-You could really use the sleep.” Kuroo’s raspy voice trails off.

“But apparently even pizza isn’t a convincing enough strategy.” He gives you a lopsided grin.

You shake your head, “Oh no, no, the pizza was very convincing.”

He scoffs, “Was it, now?” Raising his eyebrows in mock surprise, “Because you seem very awake to me.”

“Can’t we just blame this on the paper, please?” You sigh.

He furrows his brows in contemplation, “Hmm, no. I don’t think so. This is partially your fault.” A rather underwhelming response.

“A small part.”

“I’d say it's fifty-fifty.” He reasons with a raised eyebrow.

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Okay, you can quit whatever-” You gesture to his expression, “this is.” He always managed to pull the strangest faces and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you laugh.

He snorts, “Oh? I thought you liked-” Kuroo gestures to his own face, “whatever this is.”

His voice has a curious edge to it. Some might even call it flirtatious.

And you go quiet.

You can’t help but stare at him. His messy hair, his barely parted lips. The fact that Kuroo just woken up and somehow still looks this attractive to you is so annoying. So frustrating.

And words are failing you.

It was an innocent comment. He’s just messing with you like he usually does. Maybe this has all gone a little bit too far. You should probably just say good night (or good morning) and rest your eyes.

Yet you can’t shake the feeling that this could be the perfect segway into addressing your relationship.

At literally any other time of day, you might be more rational. You could reason with yourself that this is quite literally the weirdest time to bring up your feelings for him. But something in you needs to close the literal and figurative gap between you two. And, for some indecipherable reason, it has to happen right now.

Whatever the outcome, you trust that Kuroo will always be your safe place.

So you throw caution to the wind.

“Actually, Kuroo…” You begin, staring at your hands which are placed neatly on your lap. “I really do.”

His eyes snap to yours.

This time it’s Kuroo’s turn to go silent in contemplation. Taking in a steady breath becomes an act of labor.

“You… really do what?” He asks slowly, grasping for your intended meaning.

Your heart pounds.

“I really like you.” You clarify.

It isn’t at all eloquent, but it’s sincere. You’d once heard that honesty came easier late at night, but you had no idea that it applied to early mornings as well.

But you finally make sense of the words that just escaped your lips. Panic arises. In an attempt to hide, you bury your face in your hands. You wish you could put the words right back into your mouth.

“I-” You take a deep breath, “I think I spoke without thinking.” Is all you allow yourself to mumble.

You no longer trust yourself with words.

Your face, your whole body really, feels like it’s on fire. Humiliation begins to wash over you in red hot waves… but you startle when a pair of hands meet your wrists.

You lift your head.

His fingertips are warm and worn. Still decorated with calluses from his years of volleyball back in high school. You want to question why the world has withheld this touch from you for so long.

He lures your hands away from your face, grasping both of them gently. For a sensation so new, it was somehow strikingly familiar. A thumb is meditatively tracing small, slow circles in the middle of your palm.

You gawk in disbelief… and as you scan his face, you catch a hint of pink on his cheeks. You can’t say anything though - your own face feels like it’s just become 1000 degrees warmer.

“I kinda figured you might,” Kuroo breaks the tension rather… bluntly.

Of course he did, wait what?

“But the thing is…”

Is this some sort of rejection? Is he just letting you down gently? Is that why he’s holding your hands like they’re as fragile as fine china? Then why is he looking at you so sweetly, so tenderly-

“I wanted to be the one to say it first.”

You start planning your own funeral again.

However, this time, emotional whiplash will be your stated cause of death. At least it’s a more unconventional way to go out.

“I- uh,” you swallow, “w- what did you just say?” It comes out as a stammer.

You’re squeezing his hands a little too tightly. When you recognize your modest death grip around his fingers you loosen your hold.

Kuroo smiles, his eyes crinkling slightly.

It’s nothing like that cunning smirk that you find annoying, yet so adorable. It’s also not one of his full-scale grins. It’s far too simple and reassuring. You almost don’t trust it.

“Well, in short, I like you too,” He re-explains, searching your face for a reaction, “but... I’d hoped to tell you that over pizza on Friday.” Kuroo looks away.

If you weren’t already gaping over his personal confession, you would probably be laughing at this new side of Kuroo. He looks unmistakably bashful.

It takes you a second to recover, but you finally open your mouth to respond...

But you’re cut off by Kuroo, once again. His softened expression is long gone. And, much to your dismay, he’s suddenly shifting himself off of your bed.

“It’s just too bad you didn’t keep up your end of the bargain. I guess that means there’ll be no pizza… no movie… no me.” He slowly releases your hands, knitting his brows together to feign sorrow - it looks hilariously forced, but you’re too worried about the warmth leaving your fingertips to care.

He’s teasing you like you’re his best friend.

And that’s because you are.

So then why does it feel like something’s changed? Like he’s daring you to make the next move?

Before he can pull away and leave, you tug at his hand which draws his whole body toward you.

Your heartrate spikes through the roof. When’s the last time you’ve been this close to someone? To a guy? A guy who’s shown actual living, breathing interest in you.

And he’s in your face.

Close enough that his scent, his cologne, is drowning your senses. Close enough that his breath is fanning faintly against your cheek. Close enough that you know there’s only one thing left for you to do.

Before you can think to hesitate, your lips are brushing up against his.

Intuitively, he brings his hands to your face, closing any extra distance.

Kuroo’s thumb feathers over your cheekbone, stroking it tenderly. His lips apply very little pressure and it’s unbearably delicate, but it fills you with an indescribable warmth. His lips linger just long enough for you to detect the mint from his toothpaste - he can probably taste the cinnamon tea you’ve been sipping on over the past hour. As far as kisses go, it’s reserved, but perfect for this distinct moment.

Plus, you figure, this is just the first of many longer, more eager kisses - though you can’t imagine being more breathless than you already are right now.

But you can hardly get another taste of him before those warm hands on your cheeks are prying you away. He stares. You stare back. His eyes are brimming with something warm and full. You immediately choose to label it, “affection.”

And in a much lower voice, Kuroo murmurs, “Let’s save this for later.”

You scan his face, wondering if he’s actually serious. He gradually makes his way off of the bed and onto his feet and before you can protest, Kuroo is speaking again.

“You-”

He leans down and gingerly lifts your chin with his fingers. The gentleness of his touch almost makes you flinch, but you somehow manage to hold it in the road. Though now you’re really at a loss for words.

“-need to get some good rest.”

He places a chaste kiss on your forehead.

You still feel it after he pulls away. After he closes the door. After you’ve laid you head down on your pillow in shock.

How does he expect you to fall asleep after all of that?

---

extra: this is dedicated to Izzy - our sleep schedules may be jacked up, but i’m pretty sure it’s a blessing in disguise if we’re taking our time zones into consideration. thanks for making me laugh & for not stealing my quarter of the braincell.

and to my precious friends and followers - thank you for being patient with me. it’s hard to post or even write at the moment, but i’m steadily pushing myself toward a better mindset. i appreciate your comments, likes, and the fact that y'all even bother to check out my works in the first place. i’m working on it.

also happy birthday, Tetsu. you’re a real star.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo

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