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fushitoru · 1 month ago

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in another life, i would make you stay a gojo satoru (fix it) fic

pairing ⸺ reincarnated!gojo x reincarnated!reader

summary ⸺ you are a sorcerer, married to your husband who bears the burden of being the strongest. firsthand, you watch the love of your life fall apart, the world burdening him until, finally, he dies at the hand of sukuna. as you watch him through the broadcast, you blankly volunteer to be next and you die, praying to whatever merciful god out there that, in another life, you and satoru get the happy ending you both deserved— until you wake up from your dream, gasping. why the hell was your dream so vivid? you were some sort of magician? with a smoking HOT husband? and why the fuck does the guy that's ten minutes late to the first day of lectures look EXACTLY like him?

warnings ⸺ eventual smut fluff and angst (the holy trinity of aashi longfics), hurt/comfort, reincarnation fic, basically you and gojo have a miserable life in canon and get reincarnated into a modern au where i fix everything and give you the romcom you deserve, canon typical violence, jjk manga spoilers, mentions of blood and injury, major character death, fem reader implied

a/n i'll see u at the end :3

December 23, 2018.

“How do you feel?”

The both of you lay, side by side on the grass as you stared into the sky. The only sounds that surrounded you were the occasional rustle of leaves, the hum of the late afternoon cicadas, and the soft, almost inaudible rise and fall of your breathing.

The stars were really bright that day.

The sounds of nature were even more tangible in the absence of traffic. After the culling games had roped in both non-sorcerers and sorcerers alike, no one went out, so the roads were all virtually empty.

Satoru frowns thoughtfully, in a way that makes his nose scrunch up. His fingers play through your hair absentmindedly as he comes up with a response. With the way he’s thinking, your heart aches to tell him that you want his honest feelings, his doubts and fears, not some fake image he perpetually paints on for the rest of the world. You temper the urge.

“Fighting Megumi is gonna be…weird,” he says finally, with a sigh. “I’m just glad the real pain in the asses are out of the way.”

You remember the day he had come back from killing the higher ups. There was still blood matting his face and hair, dried and flaking. His eyes had long lost their light, and when you had got him alone in your shared room, grabbed a washcloth to wash his face. While you made sure none of the blood was still there, he had asked: Did I do the right thing?

It had taken three face towels to clean it all. The others had gotten soaked too quickly.

He continues. “I’ve been walking toward changing the system for so long, I forgot how to want anything past it.”

You tilt your head to look at him. His eyes are on the sky, as if trying to memorize every cloud.

“You can still want things,” you murmur. “Even now.”

What is left unsaid from you is, You can run away with me.

It’s a pipe dream at best. He was born with the shackle of the six eyes, born in the prison called The Strongest. Running away from it all was as possible as it was for Sisyphus to escape the burden of rolling the rock forever.

At your words, he huffs out a laugh and turns his head just slightly, eyes meeting yours. The blue of them is softer in this light, dusk and gold turning them the color of worn glass. “I do,” he says. “I want a stupid house with a stupid yard and a dumb dog who only listens to you.”

You laugh, blinking against the sudden sting in your eyes. “The dog would accidentally eat your god-awful heap of chocolates and drop dead.”

“Okay, then maybe not a dog then,” he accedes. “I could do with a cat. Just don’t confiscate my chocolates.”

Your voice is a bit stuffy when you reply with, “I would never.”

“Good,” His smile is crooked now, warm. “If I had all the chocolates and the cakes you bake for the rest of my life, I would die a happy man.”

“You already have those, Satoru,” you laugh wetly.

“Yeah, but I want grocery lists and laundry days and boring Tuesday nights. Not endless mission reports. God, I’m definitely not going to miss the paperwork,” he groans, and his tone would sound petulant to anyone else; to you, it’s a reminder of how he’s been worked to the bone.

You roll closer to him, forehead brushing against his temple. “We’ll have all of it.”

There’s a beat of silence. The wind rustles through the trees again. He closes his eyes and breathes it in, like he’s trying to make a home of it. You can’t help but look at his serene face and think,

I love you.

It goes unsaid.

Then, “You’ll wait for me?” he asks, almost like a joke.

You turn to him, gaze softening as it lingers on the line of his jaw, the sweep of his lashes, the eyes you’ve loved in a thousand different lights. He’s so beautiful it aches—like something out of a dream or a poem scribbled by a lonely poet on a dirty street, staring up at a beauty wistfully peering out of a window of a high tower.

“Always.”

December 24, 2018.

He looks like he’s watching the sky again.

You are staring down at the shape of him broadcasted through Mei Mei’s crows. The ground is soaked, and the sky doesn’t seem to know whether to rain or just stay gray. His eyes are open.

But you know better. And still, you wait.

Around you, there’s chaos. Your students, in disbelief, are talking loudly but it’s as if everyone around you is talking underwater, none of their words comprehensible. You feel someone shake you, but you’re still staring.

His eyes aren’t closed, but he looks peaceful.

The air thrums with cursed energy, of people in utter shock, and with fear so thick it could choke.

But all you can think about is a stupid patch of wildflowers blooming in your yard. They would’ve been his favorite color—blue, like his eyes when he was teasing you. Like his eyes when he told you he wanted a dumb dog and boring Tuesday nights.

You were going to plant them for him every spring.

You were going to make him cakes every time he forgot his own birthday.

You were going to grow old together.

Instead, you’ll be the one laying flowers on his grave. Alone.

“I’ll go,” you say.

It’s too quiet. Someone protests. You don’t even hear who.

“I said I’ll go.”

You’re already stepping forward. The fight is miles away but it doesn’t matter—you’ll find it. You’ll find Sukuna. You’ll follow the stench of blood and ruin until it leads you to him.

You know your death is imminent, but there is nothing left to want anymore. Because a future without Satoru is no future at all.

As you make your way through Shinjuku rapidly, you can’t help but think of Yuji—his eyes wide and boyish, despite everything—as he shoved a flyer into your hand and told you to try that ramen shop with him once this was all over.

You remember Megumi’s ginger candies, the ones you had to keep hidden or Gojo would eat them all in one go. They’re still sitting in a dish by the kitchen window.

You remember Shoko’s voice when she said, “Just come back alive, okay?”

You remember Nanami, and Utahime, and Nobara. You remember every stupid, beautiful person you’ve ever loved.

You love them, but love doesn’t always save you; instead, it makes you walk straight into the fire.

Your life had begun when Satoru had saved you from that lonely, dark prison you were forced into; you remember how you had thought that he was akin to a glowing deity, descended from heaven to be your savior. A discarded animal like you, made to believe you were human again by this savior.

So it feels right, in a terrible, sacred way, that your life should end with him, too.

When you finally spot Sukuna, you put up a good fight, but anyone who watches you knows you are resolved, have accepted your fate and prefer death. You don’t scream or cry when it happens; you stare at his face when your body is cleaved into spilling your blood like an endless dam.

You just think: I kept my promise.

I waited.

Then, as you feel everything growing darker and darker, there’s only one thought left, just a silent prayer to whatever god that might still be out there:

Let us try again.

Please—let us try again.

…

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

You wake up from your dream, gasping.

The noise your alarm makes is an unfriendly wake-up call; in your furious effort to locate your phone—which has found itself nestled in your messy blankets—you notice your roommate, Maki, blearily shifting. You madly search to minimize the yelling you’re going to get from her later in the day (you’re already cooked by this point), until silence blankets the room once more.

It’s only until your phone is silenced that you register how fast your heart is beating. Then, when you trudge over to the personal bathroom you and Maki share and flick the light switch, you see that tears had flowed down your cheeks in your sleep.

What a weird fucking dream.

One to have on your first day of classes for the semester, too. You squint at your reflection, the fluorescent light doing your sleep-addled eyes no favors as you grudgingly get ready, brushing your teeth and washing your face and all that. You don’t know why it was so vivid.

From the dredges of your mind, you first recall the flashing light beams and carnal violence in the destruction of the city, and then you. Were you some kind of magician? It was kind of like…Winx Club, but you weren’t a cunty fairy in cute clothes. Something about sorcerers, so maybe Harry Potter? Hunter X Hunter?

You spit out the frothy mix of your saliva and the mouth freshener. So ridiculous. You couldn’t even blame stress for the weird fanfiction at this point—classes haven’t even started.

Memories of the dream ebb and flow as you try hard to remember what else had occurred as you wipe your face. Gazing upon the white of the moisturizer you’re dabbing on your skin, a flash of white suddenly resurfaces.

Gojo.

A violent feeling overcomes your chest at the name, and you think you’re having a heart attack with the way it clenches like you’re almost about to weep in longing of a beloved. You gasp, cupping the left side of your chest as you try to lower your heart rate.

What hurts most of all is the searing pain, like a spiral of thinly corded string has branded itself on your ring finger. In your rush to look up in the mirror to see what could be hurting you, you don’t notice the red glow it forms. What you see in the see in your reflection surprises you: you’re crying again.

Tears have fully started streaming down your face with the pain, carving wet valleys on your cheeks as they went. After your heart rate slows down, you frown while looking down at your hands. Why were they shaking?

You repeat the name numerous times in your brain, each time causing you to physically tweak. Gojo, Gojo, Gojo, and then resurfaces Satoru, Satoru, Satoru—

It’s after the tenth time you repeat his name that your body seems to calm itself down and get accustomed to whatever emotional shock that coursed through your name after you mentioned his name. His name originally came up because you remember the main person in your dream: the white-haired man. He was the reason you decided to confront that…three armed man? Or did he have four arms? Regardless, you basically offed yourself after he died because you loved him, or something. With the way your body seems to physically shake at the sheer thought of his name, as if the utter image of longing, love may not have been enough to describe what you felt.

Realizing that you’ve drifted off at reminiscing sleepily, you start, as if suddenly animated. You pat your skin, setting in the final step of your skincare routine. Then, you click on your phone screen to check the time.

And notice immediately that you are going to be late.

Then ensues you scrambling to your room, putting on your clothes, tripping on the floor in the process, getting a sleepy glare from Maki that has doubly certified that you are getting a scolding, and then finally making it out the door. The somewhat cool fall weather hits your face as you walk on the pavement, checking your clock repeatedly to ensure it hasn’t hit 9am yet.

When you make it into the lecture, you realize that it is packed. There aren’t many seats—it is a gen ed class after all, something on some ancient history, and you notice two empty seats, side-by-side, tucked away in the corner of the lecture room. You have to carefully maneuver yourself down the seats.

Navigating the maze of limbs and backpacks, you mumble a series of "excuse me’s" and "coming through’s" until you squeeze past two guys—a stern-looking blond with glasses that scream "salaryman thirst trap" and a loud brunet beside him. Reaching your target, you slide into the seat that leaves an empty one between you and the blond. You’re very pleased about the extra breathing room.

Maybe today won’t be so bad after all.

You prepare your supplies to take notes on the first (of many) syllabus reviews to come. In the meantime, you’re privy to hearing the mumble and grumble of people around you; it’s only when a throat clears itself at the head of the class do you see a man—probably the professor of this class, Yaga—who has the slides already up. Ancient East Asian History is branded on the big white screen in bolded, black Arial font. Clearly, graphic design was not his passion.

His voice projects through the mic and is fairly deep and resonant, so it’s clear to everyone, despite the number of people in the room, that class is starting. As expected, the next slide is titled “What is Ancient East Asian History?”

“Let’s delve deeper into what I mean by East Asian. Asia is a subcontinent that’s home to a diverse set of cultures, and even so in East Asia…”

As Yaga speaks, time ebbs and flows around you. The monotonous sounds of papers flipping, pens scratching on paper, and the clicking of keyboards surrounds you. You can’t help but think the fluorescent lights, harsh and white, had to be designed to keep students from falling asleep, because their intensity paints the lecture hall in this weird lighting. The mood created by it is something akin to the filter horror movies perpetually have on—vivid, but cold and dark. Like when you’ve been up for too long to the point that you don’t know if it’s night, or morning, because it’s still dark out. Then, dawn breaks, the sun enveloping the sky in its warmth.

Suddenly, the heavy set of doors that serve as your lecture hall’s entrance open loudly—louder than someone who is sheepishly entering late. Instead of the usual indifference reserved for a fellow student who had slept in, the room ripples with murmurs and giggles, shattering the silence that had settled—save for Yaga’s lecturing.

You don’t look at first. You look at Yaga, who is pinching the bridge of his nose as he mutters, “In Japanese culture, punctuality is a form of respect—something we are clearly still learning.”

You don’t turn. You don’t need to. But, like a current pulling you under, your gaze follows the crowd’s. And you see him.

Gojo.

Suddenly, your heart clenches violently, and you can only help but gasp hoarsely and shut your eyes. If you didn't, streams of tears would flow down your face once more. You couldn’t help but swear internally; you had thought you had conditioned yourself to be stable at the mention of his name.

But, almost as if it’s subconscious, you wrench your eyes open, desperate to view the boy. You’d assume something apologetic, maybe. Rushed. Someone with their hood up, mumbling an excuse as they shuffle into the shadows of the back row. But this—

This is someone who walks like he knows the sound of his own footsteps matters. His ivory hair is tussled, like he had just rolled out of your dream. He looks a bit younger than he did when you had seen him, but his eyes are the same unmistakable brilliant, cerulean color.

Now, he’s making his way down the stairs, skipping every third one with his long legs. Something leaves his lips, and it’s something humorous—depending on how girls and guys around him laugh, a shared sense of adoration in their eyes. You can only help but watch as he comes closer and closer to you, and you remember belatedly that the seat next to you is the only empty one in the whole lecture hall.

Yaga huffs and rolls his eyes, crossing his arms in barely concealed annoyance. “Nice of you to join us, Gojo.”

Gojo lifts a hand in a lazy wave. “Yaga, you ever tried finding parking on this campus?” The lecture erupts in barely muted half-sleepy giggles.

It’s only when a particularly loud high five he receives—by the brunet in your row—that you break out of your reverie and turn to your laptop, flustered. Any attempt to act nonchalant would be funny as if the thing that’s wrong with you—that invisible thing—hasn’t been rippling violently inside your gut the moment you laid eyes on him. Like your body has just been handed proof. Like a wound cracking open in slow motion.

He’s approaching, long legs trying to get through the sheer amount of people to where the empty seat next to you was, and when he’s there, right next to you, you shouldn’t look up.

But you do.

When your eyes meet his, something ancient and awful coils in your throat. A shiver, not of fear, but of recognition so buried it aches.

Pearly teeth and bright blue eyes glistening. A breathless, “Hi.”

And the invisible string, that had spiraled and corkscrewed itself into the jumble it was, pulls—until it is straight and wrung tight. You don’t know this boy. You’ve never seen him before.

So why does it feel like your heart just remembered how to break?

Your throat is dry, but you manage out a “Good morning.”

You turn back to your desk, your fingers quivering. By your side, he’s moving and rummaging through the contents of his backpack quite noisily, one that can be heard throughout the lecture hall if one were to tune out Yaga’s droning. In curiosity of seeing what was taking him so damn long to find, you turn your head slightly, and notice the heaps of wrappers—all pastel colored and bright, like candy and dessert wrappers—that his backpack is almost suffocated with. Then, he pulls out his laptop, opens it, and resumes the game of Run 3 he had paused beforehand.

Respectfully, what the fuck.

As if sensing your stare, he turns to you until meeting your eyes; you were caught. Like a deer caught in headlights, you helplessly stare back at him, heat creeping up your neck, and his gaze leaves your eyes to look at your lips, which you were biting.

Then, he leans in slightly—you also inching yourself back because why is he getting so close and why is your heart beating so fast—and whispers, “Do I know you?”

You’ve never seen him outside of the weird dream you had, and it would’ve been weird to admit that you’ve dreamed about him. “No, I don’t think you do,” you whisper back, voice hoarse.

His lips quirk in response, but, to your dismay, he doesn’t retract. His brows furrow while he stares at your face, as if deep in thought, and nods, flirtatiously saying, “Makes sense. I feel like I wouldn’t have forgotten you if I had met you.”

Despite the cheesy line, heat creeps up your neck, and you can’t help but bitterly look down at your desk after giving him a quiet, “No, I don’t we have. I’m sorry.” If he flirted with a stranger like this, dream you must’ve had a really hard time as his wife. Shameless.

And thus the lecture runs its course. Throughout, you’re tense, the heat of his presence never letting you relax. You feel every movement of his fingers, his forearms, as he played his games or typed miscellaneous things that you didn’t see because you were physically forcing yourself to stare at the lecture slides, back ramrod straight.

It’s only until his leg starts shaking that you start feeling…weird. His reaction is completely normal; you don’t blame him, because Yaga’s been going over the syllabus’ section of projects and how you can’t change project partners for over thirty minutes. But it’s the fact that a steady wave of nausea is building up inside you, until a sharp piercing sensation overwhelms your head.

Then, a vision.

It’s hazy, as if projected on cloudy water. A shaking leg, clad in what seems like uniform pants, underneath a small wooden desk. Then, a hand reaches out to yours, grasping it firmly, and you feel a weird sense of nausea once more. However, it’s not the same feeling you’ve been feeling since your dream—instead, it’s a stomach upturning feeling of being teleported somewhere.

A bed.

It’s a small one, in a room that resembles a dorm. The hand grasping yours isn’t simply grabbing your hand; it’s now trailing up your sock-covered ankle, up your calves, and then under your skirt—

The murky vision gets even murkier until you can’t register anything anymore. Then, you suddenly return, the fluorescent lights being the first thing you register after the weird deja-vu-memory thing. The feelings you felt from the vision linger, including overwhelming feelings of euphoria, lust, and sheer happiness that bloom in your heart warmly, like a flower in fresh spring.

You’re so distraught from the complicated jumble of feelings that have thrusted themselves upon you that you don’t hear Yaga say his concluding words. It’s the jarring, obnoxious screech! of the chair next to you—Gojo’s—that you jump to your senses and realize half of the students have left.

Thus, you hurriedly pack your things and book it the fuck out of there because you would rather die than be the last person to leave class, lest Yaga think you were staying behind to talk to him. You’ve had more than your fill of East Asian Studies today.

Maybe it’s best if you avoid Gojo, lest you slip up. The dream—and the weird reactions your body seems to be having in his presence—are too…peculiar. If something happened, you wouldn’t know how to recover.

In your haste, you don’t realize you’ve left something behind, nor did you hear the “Wait! You forgot….this” that Gojo had called out to you, staring at the object in his hand—and your retreating back—with a complicated expression.

next. the aftermath (soon!)

a/n short chapter, but this series is going to contain a mixture of: a lot of crack and fluff, yearning (as always, yall know me), and debilitating angst ("who did this to you??" oh i loved writing the angst) and crazy reunion sex. comment down below to be added to the taglist!!

to be clear, unless otherwise indicated, reader is getting these moments from the past as "migraines" / flashes / dreams.

TAGLIST P1:

@nithica @rh-tg1 @tbzzluvr @spookytyphoonfire @vsynical

@totallyuniquenut @yamiyas @nishayuro @nariminsstuff @starmapz

@sylusonlylove @purplemint @elliesndg @gggellaa @arabellasolstice

@arrozyfrijoles23 @yeehawbrothers @that-one-lightskin @candyluvsboba @avaults

@iheartkhloe @angelcherrry @madamechrissy @xxemmarldxx @lovenbesos

@liveforkny @nattie-smack @cherryredribbons @introvertatitsfinest @starlightoru-gojo

@hyori2 @gxldencloset @l0v3m3m0re @cuntysaurusrex @nanamineedstherapy

@oikawasxx @littlemisspoets-blog @anuncalledbridge @watermelonmuntchers @zeyno-14

@k-kkiana @nanamiskentos @kviwi @evawts @forest-nymph420

@bontensh0e @viiennie @blossomedfloweroflove @6isek @dreamssfyre

#aashi writes #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru

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aezuria · 15 days ago

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okay so we know that mitsuki was really bold when it came to masaru, and given his quiet demeanor, he was probably flustered, right? but even though katsuki got his mom's fiery personality, what if he inherited his dad's awkwardness when it came to girls that came onto him hard?

imagine seeing him on the street and saying, "i think you're hot, can i get your number?"

he'd be a mess, barely stammering out a "what the hell!?" as his ears turn bright red. his resting bitch face usually scared off any potential admirers, so he never really had a girl walk up to him like this before—at least not without fleeing in the other direction before they could even get out the words.

but you still stood there, waiting for an actual response. seeing your confident, expectant face, how could he say no?

when you guys start dating, katsuki would be awkward at first, especially when you initiate contact or flirt with him. he never really had time for relationships, far too focused on his goals to care. he'd be cautious; this was unknown territory for him! he had to assess the situation and act accordingly!

however, all his logic and reasoning went out the window when you rested your hand on his arm. his arm of all things! he stiffened up as sat beside you on the couch, trying to focus on the romcom you had picked out. but all he could focus on was you inching closer and closer, until you were pressed against his side. he felt his palms get sweaty, much more than usual.

he swore you sniffed out his discomfort, how could you not? "you alright there?" he'd be a fool not to hear the teasing tone in your voice.

"obviously." shit, his voice cracked.

your laughter made his stomach churn even more. his eyes darted to your lips, the source of the sound, and fuck, he should not have done that!

then your hand moved up to his bicep. oh. and you had that look in your eyes. katsuki swallowed thickly, his brain scrambling for an escape route as he tried to make a tactical retreat. he'd come back with a great offensive strategy, of course. "uh-"

it was too late. your grip tightened and your grin widened. "where are you going?"

he was a dead, dead man.

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #mha #bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x you

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tyunningism · 24 days ago

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Campus Sweetheart !!

── .✦ pairing: c.sb + k.th

Transitioning from your uni dorm as a first year is all over the place, watching your card depleting itself of its last dimes and being fired from your only job is the last thing you'd hope for. Don't worry though, it just so happens to reach your ears that there's a flat looking for a new roommate for a hell of a deal. ♡︎

╰┈➤MDNI - NSFW content ahead...

..in simple words.. ʀᴏᴏᴍᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ʀᴏᴏᴍᴍᴀᴛᴇ ꜱᴏᴏʙɪɴ

ᝰ.ᐟ wc - 4.6k words

part 2? Read here !!

mentions!! and warnings!! - Smut , alcohol consumption + partying, slight dubcon( both reader and soobin are slightly drunk)if you squint..., corruption kink, slight dacryphilia, exhibitionism, hickeys, slight voyeurism, dry humping, perv!soobin, reader is a virgin, bunch of filth you get the idea, minor rest of txt mentions. This first part is centred around soobin and reader, part 2 will revolve around tyun xx

tyunningism's note: first fic i've decided to post, went on a big tangent to write about this duo and will never live it down xoxo unedited so might have typos etc.

You've never been more screwed in your 19 years of living..like ever. It just so happened to be that the moment you were fired from some shitty overpriced clothing store across campus which was 'overstaffed', the girls' dorm board were now chasing you up to pay rent! (which is overly expensive as well and can't be paid off now that you're sacked...). You unlock your phone to check what's left in your balance after you went out shopping for cute trinkets of your fav characters, nerdy figurines and a whole closet worth of pink cotton vests.. and oh you are doomed.

Immediately you're skimming through your apps to message the girls you've been essentially rooming with for at least a semester now; typing out a huge paragraph with hundreds of typos as you try to explain your dire situation.

And soon enough the group chat is flooding with questions and voice notes from Giselle and Chaewon.

Chaewonnie 🍒: What the actual FUCK are you on about right now?! You're telling me that creep of a manager sacked you and now you can't stay in the dorms anymore? Gis<3: ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 1:07 this dorm is shit anyways for 500 dollars a month you saved yourself lmfao Chaewonnie 🍒: Omg not the time gigi... i'll pay for rent until you're back on your feet k? 😟 You: Chaeee :(( It's okay don't. I'll look around for something cheaper i doubt i can continue paying that much anyways even with a job :(( Gis<3: Look on the forum bb, there might be someone leasing out a place that's decent?? If not Chae and I'll just sneak you in anyways.

Your ears perk up at Giselle's idea, quickly sending a bunch of sentimental messages about visiting even after you move out of the dorms before going on to the University forum.

As much as you'd hate to admit, Giselle and Chaewon are complete polar opposites to you. While they're out partying and crashing at some random frat party you're in the dorms alone most of the time keeping on top of assignments or watching cheesy romcoms, even walking around with them made you feel out of place. It doesn't help that your clothes are all frilly and covered standing next to Giselle who wears short tops to accentuate her curves and chest, it's ridiculous really- the stark difference between you two.

A certain post knocks you out of your thoughts as you skim across it:

"Looking for a roommte renting this room for chaep. Call xxx-xxxx-0304"

Anyone can tell that whoever posted this didn't give two shits about renting out the small room with such half assed spelling and it didn't help that the profile was completely anonymous and blank either. But the $200 deal for a month was an absolute steal for what the photos showed, a single room with a bathroom and walk in closet.. how the fuck has no one else snatched up this offer!?

You dial the number and chew on the plump fat of your bottom lip, fingers fiddling with the hems of your sweater and your feet uncomfortably shuffling on the concrete ground.

" Hello?"

There's a moment of silence before your speak up and fuck if your nerves weren't on edge right now you could definitely have saved yourself some embarrassment.

" Uhm..so I saw the post about the roommate thing.. is that still open?"

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

It's been about two months since you've moved in; you're still prying around shyly begging to avoid any attention towards you from who you've learnt to be Soobin and Taehyun. And if you thought you stuck out like a sore thumb back at the girls' dorms you were sure to stand out jarringly now with your pink and beige skirts and lace tops next to their baggy jeans worn from heel-bite and oversized zip ups >.<

Something else you weren't expecting were that the two men were devilishly handsome and alluring, obscenely so. Soobin's towering height and dimples which enhanced his smile had completely smote you in the face with shock when he opened the door to greet you, but despite his sincerity, Taehyun wasn't so warm and welcoming.

"Where are you going now?" Taehyun pries, noticing your unwanted presence in the open living room. It's a struggle to not stutter and suffocate under the tension in the air when he confronts you with his usual downgrading tone; his gaze belittling and sly as he quirks a brow at you.

"The small trinket store by campus. Do you wanna come with?"

He scoffs at your statement and laughs almost sarcastically enough to cause heat to rise up to your cheeks, trying to fiddle with your clothes to hide your own shame. He's mocking you you figure and you realise you might've stepped over the line by asking him to go with you on your silly trip- especially knowing he's never been keener to nitpick at you, finding great entertainment in your reactions.

"I'm not being caught with childish shit like that. I'm sure that perv 'll go with you in a heart beat if you suck him off though..." He chuckles at his own sick joke causing Soobin to choke on his drink only to whip his head towards him at his accusations a bit too fast for his own sake.

"Yeah right. If you want to call me the perv i'm sure she'd want to know what you were up to last night," Soobin's prying remark shifts the mood causing the air becomes thicker while you stay silent- still fiddling with your clothes refusing to make eye contact and still completely 'new' to the open talk about their own perverse lives. With the two men staring directly at you, their topic of conversation, you can't help but feel nervous and heated, hoping it wasn't obvious that you were starting to get wet other wise you'd opt to fall into a ditch and die. They're just two men still feeling stuck in puberty and your roommates you've barely gotten used to over the two months, you'd be lying if you didn't feel dirty for drooling so shamelessly about the way they talk about their own fantasies with you. You're quickly dismissed off your thoughts by Soobin's soft comment, "Angel if you really wanted someone to accompany you next time jus' come straight to me yeah? Come on i'll drop you off wherever", completely different in manner to what he was accused of previously.

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

You hate to admit that Soobin's a fucking saint but staring at the limited edition figurine which he placed in your hands with a shit eating grin on his face you can only obsess and geek silently. You gaze up at him with near tears of gratitude in your eyes- not wasting any time in wrapping your arms around his large build out of instinct- completely forgetting that he wasn't Giselle or Chaewon. How on earth did you manage to score a roommate like him?!

"Soobin," your bottom lip juts out in to an unintentional pout. "You didn't have to, this isn't..are you- are you sure I can have this?"

The taller male's grin only widens at your words before leaning down to whisper in to your ear slyly;

"Knew you'd like this one. Just consider it as a late welcoming gift, for our new roommate after all." His grin only widens as he snakes his hand around the back of your waist, hands teasingly slipping under your shirt to brush against your bare skin. The action alone has you struggling to compose your self before he stops, humming to himself as he walks off to gawk at some of the more revealing figurines, leaving you dumbfounded and hot, toying with your senses and your head as you follow dumbly behind >,<

The ride home is silent apart from the soft humming escaping from Soobin's lips. His finger, which found refuge on the flesh of your thigh tapped rhythmically to the music playing from the speaker of his car, every now and then he'd inch closer up your thigh before backing down again and god does it make your head spin.

And fuck if you couldn't realise it sooner Soobin was cute, really cute. The glasses slipping down his nose and the rosy hue dusting his cheeks, bangs framing his face, thick fingers steering the wheel which made you burn up feverishly every time you tried to take a tiny peek.Little did you know he's been aware this whole time about your fleeting glances- and he can't help but bite back on his lips when blood threatens to rush towards his dick right in front of his clumsy little roommate !! He knows he's sick and twisted- but who can blame him when he's got a girl as adorable as you in his passenger seat right now??

He even makes sure you walk in front of him up the stairs to your apartment as well, under the guise of 'being able to catch you incase you fall from the steep steps, maintaining enough distance so he could oggle at the imprint of your folds on your panties under your skirt. There was something so sinister about seeing what you were hiding under those flimsy skirts, your cute cotton panties flashed on display directly for his eyes. He almost wants to believe you do these small things to tempt him on purpose, but his adorable little roommate would never be so dirty would she? Soobin's bad, a bad man who's sick in the head for thinking so nastily about what he wants to do to you, he doubts you've even orgasmed before, but no worries because why else would you have Soobin except to teach you?? >,<

And it's not like he's never openly expressed his sexual needs before. With Taehyun in the room he speaks filthily about the Hentai Heeseung shared with him last week that he beat to like a wild man thinking you couldn't hear from your 'soundproofed' rooms, or about the girl Taehyun had over the night before who looked almost a bit too much like you, and the hundreds of porn magazines he has strewn across his room that he attempts to kick under his bed when you knock on his door which you choose to ignore when you enter. You always shy away when the two of them start any sort of sex talk in front of you, he notices it and he's sure Taehyun does too. It's laughable how much of a virgin you are- rubbing your thighs together uncomfortably for any sort of friction before you're excusing yourself shortly to disappear behind the door of your room. He's always adoring how vulnerable and innocent you are, poor you, you don't even know how to make yourself feel good when you listen in secretly on those conversations; the new feeling soaking your panties and soiling them, can't help but feel so dirty :((

Taehyun's no help either, casually walking in to your room when you're clad in nothing but your lace bra and panties before bed, always sneaking in a snark comment about your choice in underclothes which makes you want to melt on the spot out of humiliation. There are times where he'll come back from his trip to the gym with sweat glistening along his forehead and collar bones- Oh.. and he's shameless about it too, openly stripping off his wife beater to toss it in the pile of dirty laundry before making his way next to you on the couch, eyes desperately searching for a reaction on your shying gaze to which he's never let down.

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A confused expression floods your face as you search for the underwear you swore you put in the tumbler to wash. What started as a drawer stacked with your garments ended up with less than half of what it was to begin with. You're utterly lost, and devastated that your favourite pair have now seemed to have gone missing and you doubt Soobin or Taehyun could've mistaken your lacy pink panties for theirs. And in a state of panic you hurriedly ask to who you thought was in the living room,

"Hey Taehyun you haven't seen my underwear or anything lying around have you? I swear I put them in to wash two days ago andnowIcan'tfi-" you complain before opening your eyes wide in shock realising you've just announced your dilemma to not only Taehyun but his shitload of friends too, "Oh my God I'm sososo sorry I didn't know your friends were over ughhh." You groan in defeat feeling your face burn in humiliation.

"Woah what the fuck Taehyun?? You never told me you were keeping a hot chick here?" A brunette gasps almost over-dramatically breaking the silence in the air, immediately combing through his hair with his calloused fingers in an attempt to impress you in even the slightest way.

"First of all Beomgyu, that's my roommate. Second of all she'd never let you hit with all that weird shit you're in to geez."

Taehyun's remark sends the room into an outburst of laughter at who you were assuming to be Beomgyu, now bickering vulgarly with a guy with faded blue box dyed hair, his features strikingly foreign and appealing to your eyes before you snap back in to reality again.

"There's nothing weird in being pegged- that Sophomore Mina from Jaehyun's party let me-"

"She wouldn't let you or Taehyun hit, the nonchalant act will never get him laid pfft. Look you've got her all flustered now," your eyes flicker to the guy who purred, manspreading in jeans a size or two too big for him, a smirk plastered across his face. He beckons you to come over with two fingers, amused at your hesitance and meek posture. He whispers temptingly in to your ear. " 'm hosting a party at Kai and I's frat next Saturday, wanna see you there at 7pm m'kay?"

You swallow and look over at Taehyun as if you were searching for consent despite not needing it, his sigh indicates you to nod obediently making the seductive man chuckle at your eagerness. His tongue glazing over his lips as he studies your skimpy pajamas with cute patterns of your favourite character. The voice notes Soobin sent were right, you were irresistible.

"Slot in your number yeah? Make sure you've got Soobin or Taehyun to bring you." he purrs once again but lower this time, his flirting only makes the cold male grimace,

"Your intentions are as clear as day you whore."

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It's three hours before the party and you're scrambling through your closet to search for something redeemable to wear. You've never been the type to go to parties and now you're regretting your abstinence looking at the girly skirts and cardigans laid out in front of you. There's nothing sexy about your clothes which frustrates you out of your mind !! If there were anyone to save you right now it would be Chaewon and Giselle...

You: Can I come over?? Need something to wear to a party but all my clothes feel out of place yk?? :((

Chaewonnie🍓: AGHH my baby i've missed you sm come over right now, the new girl who moved in is such a bitch I'm glad she's working tongiht.

Gis<3: Stop I've been waiting for this forevrrrr omgggg come over rn I bought this new dress its gnna look so hot on you trust

Chaewonnie🍓: Wait.. isn't it Heeseungie's frat that's hosting a party today? Gosh when did you get to know him??!!

You: Heeseungie??? i got invited by one of my roommates friends.. Yeonjun... I think??

Gis<3: You're kidding.

No.

Fucking.

Way.

L/N. Y/N.

Within seconds of you arriving at the dorms Chaewon is tugging on your hair curling it in to all sorts of twists and curls and pinning it all over your head. Giselle's applying mascara over your lashes which dry out your eyes like hell, dabbing your face with her new foundation cushion and spritzing her expensive mist all over your skin. But it's worth it because looking in the mirror you're in awe at the power and skills Giselle and Chaewon have, you look hot, and you're sure your girls can see the newfound pride in you too.

Until Giselle decides to squeeze you in to a short velvet strap dress Completely bare at the back to reveal your spine and riding up the top of your thigh dangerously, low cut and flush against your chest which makes your cheeks burn just thinking about wearing something so scandalous in front of everyone.

"I don't know guys- don't you think it's too much..?" you worry, not entirely used to clothes feeling so tight yet flimsy on you, like it would come apart in seconds.

"You look hot trust u-"

Ding- Dong

The ring of the doorbell triggers Chaewon to audibly shriek and drag you along to the door before pulling the door wide open for a dressed up Taehyun to admire. You don't miss the way his huge eyes widen even more before landing on the way your dress is snug at your hips down to your thighs; there's no escape from his predatory gaze no matter how much you try to shy away and hide behind Chaewon.

" What? Don't you like it mr. nonchalant?? We've got her all dolled up for you~" Giselle winks before shoving you out the door and slamming it with a giggle leaving you to deal with the tension in the air. You can barely hear the man visibly eyeing you up and down muttering a small "fuck" before he coughs almost animatedly, gripping his fingers around your wrists so hard his knuckled bared white and in to the car park- a small tinge of red blushing the tips of your ears. There was something so rewarding seeing him break down his usually cold demeanour (which would usually be picking at you by now) to shut up and swallow down all the things he has to say, and you couldn't be more right. Fuck if Taehyun had the guts to he wouldn't waste any time rushing you in to the backseat of his porsche, slamming you against the cold windows until your skin burns from the cold before breaking off the straps of your skimpy dress. He'd go slack-jawed just watching the way his cock would be sucked in so vulgarly by your virgin cunt, juices dripping down the valley of your thighs and all over his expensive car seat, thighs quivering and clenching around the thick veins of his dick before he's slamming in to you relentlessly again, shoving two of his finger drenched in your slick in to your warm mouth to keep you quiet 'shut up will you hm? Don't want the entire dorm hearing how big of a slut you are getting off your roommates cock do you?' he'd be so mean, so turned on at you gagging 'round his fingers with fat tears stinging in the corner of your eyes. He'd be a goner the moment you let him have his way with you, he'd go insane and he knows it watching you strap in to your seatbelt tight against your chest, giving him an eager look to start the car completely unaware of the porno flashing through his head right now, he'd rather die than show up to Yeonjun's frat party already hard so he settles with driving off right away trying not to spare you any more attention than he has already.

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Music blasts deafeningly as you awkwardly stumble in to the frat house with Taehyun yawning behind, your eyes scanning over for familiar faces unaware of the attention and stares you're receiving from boyfriends and hotshots, their girlfriends and Taehyun's old flings. But your lack of judgement of your environment only directs you to another familiar face; your eyes light up when you spot Soobin among the crowd, drink lazily clasped in one hand, a blunt shoved between the curve of his soft lips before passing it to Yeonjun who inhales and exhales with his head leaning back against the couch. A girl kisses seductively along his neck; nibbling against his skin until his complexion drew a deep crimson, licking along his jaw and whispering in to his ear keeping him busy.

You blush at the audacity of the act as you observe around, the heat radiating off of drunks slobbering all over and eating each other's faces, which although didn't cause anyone who wasn't making out bat an eye, was for sure making you feel as if you were intruding on something so intimate. But Soobin spots you and plasters a lazy smirk, patting down on his lap and gesturing you to come closer. He reaches out his hands in a grabbing motion to snatch you and place you on his lap before swirling his drink around and handing it to you, signalling half drunkenly to take the shot to which you study in perplexion. You rarely drink alcohol let alone do something reckless like this :(( but you down it anyway as best as you could, the bitter taste of it burns your throat but Soobin's already pouring you another shot. He's watching with glossy and reddened eyes at the way you struggle to down the drinks before moving your legs so that you were straddling him.

"Mhnnn.. you look.. really beautiful t'nite shit, you're driving me crazy bunny." He slurs, tracing his finger along your neck and over the flimsy straps of your dress down towards your chest. His thumb swirls around your nipples through the fabric as he hums, leaning down to place a small peck on the side of your neck.

It's hot and you're feeling the alcohol starting to hit your system, feeling lightheaded and calm as you nuzzle in to his touch, anything but void of shaky breaths and pants when he slips a hand up your already dangerously inviting dress to massage the fat of your thigh.

"Dressed up jus' for me hmm?.. So good for me, such a sweet girl.", he hums once more, breathing in your scent, before retracting his hands away from your thigh causing you to whine.

"Look so pretty, kept thinking...'bout it.. about you, dressing up like this when Jjun told me you were coming. Jerked off so much to your panties pretty, you didn't even know," He rambles on drunkenly half processing the vulgar confessions spouting from his face, you would've never imagined that he'd be the type to be so perverse yet you keep your mouth shut knowing his praise only dampens the wet spot building up in your panties even further. You feel dirty but you can't help the not so innocent thoughts that are clouding your mind. You've never been so intimate with anyone before let alone a guy like Soobin and can't help but feel a bit greedy when you start to rock your hips against his bulge subtlely, " Angel," he grips on your hips before taking a deep breath, " don't do that, I won't be able to resist if you do.."

"I want it Binnie, wanna feel good.. like what you said to Taehyun about what you'd do to me.." Usually you'd cringe at your outspokenness, it was a new side to you; bold, but the alcohol running through you couldn't make you care less as you continued to grind down on the growing tent in the male's sweatpants, gasping when it rubbed against the nub of your clit over and over again causing a mantra of whimpers to fall from your lips.

He wastes no time in leaning in to kiss you sloppily, groaning every time he feels the plush of your cunt rubbing against him so desperately; hands immediately holding your hips still in place because he knows he's going to cum embarrassingly fast when you're on top of him like this. He's been desperate to please you ever since you showed up in front of the apartment door, make you feel good because you can't reach all your sweet spots, corrupt you ever so lightly just to see the expressions on your face so lewd he could cum just imagining it. And now here you are panting as you lay half limp on his lap trying to get the friction you need to send you on that high, tears starting to prick at your eyes when you can't move under Soobin's grip, the uncomfortable neediness in you too overwhelming for you to bear.

"Binnie p-please, need more ngh...I just need to a-ah fuck.." you moan when his hand slithers in to the crevice of your top to grope at your tits, not hesitating to suck on the mounds of flesh lazily, spit and maroon bite marks tainting your chest as he bites ferociously. He feels dizzy, so fucking dizzy and he knows he'll regret being so harsh with you later but he can't think about anything but the throbbing pain in his dick desperate to be buried inside of you.

"You're so good bunny, keep humping my dick like that and i'll cum fuck. Want me to make you cum ? O-oh you're so hot."

You're desperately chasing your orgasm as you grind down against his hard on, moaning deliciously without a care in the world, panting and drooling out the corners of your mouth when your clit rubs against the imprint of his cock over and over again as Soobin's hands made its way to massage the flesh of your ass.

"Binnie c-can't I feel weird, n-ngh feels good please !!"

"Shitshitshit cum for me bunny, so sweet, 'm so close too"

Not long after you're shaking all over with a euphoric surge of pleasure, legs quivering on either side of soobin's thighs until your body goes limp on his broad shoulder- heaving and panting as you come down your high, the far gone man beneath you following not long after under a series of strained mewls and groans. Only to be whistled at by an awestruck Yeonjun who very obviously stares at the curve of your chest that heaves up with every tired breath, jaw dropped in shock.

"What the fuck.?! God you're freaks..damn, I'll admit I haven't seen something so hot in a while though I'll give you that," he comments, a hand grossly pointing at the hard-on straining in his pants after witnessing the whole fiasco. "Let me have a turn with that doll next time yeahhh?" he coos, a finger reaching out to turn your face towards him, batting your eyelashes dumbly as saliva drools down in-between the crevice of your tits.

Your vision flashes in and out of consciousness to even hear or process Soobin's reply before drifting off to near sleep, calm and peaceful in contrast to the explicit and sexual acts you've just meddled yourself in to, your head spinning and a wave of conscience hits you: your first orgasm was at a frat party with your roommate.

And you can sense the glare headed straight towards your direction from the corner of your eye, Taehyun- glaring right at the two of you before pushing off the girl pawing at his toned stomach and straight out of the door. You knew you were in trouble. Big time.

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tyunningism 's work !! 2025

#txt #txt fanfic #kpop #smut #kpop smut #kpop x reader #taehyun smut #soobin smut #txt fic #txt hard hours #txt smut #txt hard thoughts #tyunningism writes!!#Soobin #yeonjun #taehyun #hueningkai #beomgyu #tyunningism campus sweetheart

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moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami · 1 year ago

Text

— trickentine જ⁀➴♡ pt.2

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

summary: after lord eros' silly little trick, you're now forced to deal with the consequences— more specifically, in the form of a lovestruck luke castellan.

warnings: tons of corny pick-up lines

genre: still very much a romcom

part 1

note: thank you, thank you! all your support for pt.1 means the world to me! really, i couldn't be more grateful 𖹭 i hope you think this brings justice to the first half 𖹭

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

“What do you mean you can’t do anything?” You suppressed the urge to shriek, settling for gritted emphasis instead. You crossed your arms across your chest, your foot tapping impatiently against the wooden floorboards of the Big House.

“Exactly what it means.” Chiron responded, looking at Luke with more amusement rather than concern.

“But he's under a spell,” You reasoned in disbelief. You might have spilled over your words while you explained the rundown to Chiron, but they were coherent enough to at least get that point across.

“It’ll wear off eventually, kid.” Mr. D downed an entire can of diet soda in one go before procuring another one in his outstretched hand. He snickered at the intent puppy eyes Luke was giving you. “That type of love magic won’t last long. Best to let it run its course than tamper with it.”

“But–” You wanted to argue before Mr. D stopped you. He pushed his feet up on his desk.

“Look, at least this proves that your boyfriend actually loves you.” He gave you a pointed look. What does that even mean? “Now, leave.”

You huffed indignantly, but decided against speaking further. You begrudgingly turned around and pulled Luke up by his arm, guiding him towards the narrow hallway that led to the foyer.

“When did I become your boyfriend?” Luke huddled closer to you, whispering as you made your way to the front door.

“You didn’t.” You told him plainly. You shook your head. “You aren’t.”

“Yet.” He responded, his tone a bit mischievous but his gaze sure and determined.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

You leaned your elbows against the table of the crowded Arts and Crafts Center, your chin resting against the pad of your thumbs. You studied Luke with a contemplating gaze.

“I hit you with one of Eros’ arrows.” You told him. This was hardly the proper place to have this conversation, but the rest of the Aphrodite cabin practically hauled you to the building to begin Valentinkering? Valenmaking? (whatever in Tartarus they decided to call it this year).

“Well, I guess you could say I’ve been lovestruck by you.” He said, giving you a stupid little wink as he mirrored your posture.

“Gods, Luke. That was corny as hell.” You flushed almost as crimson as the container of beads in front of you. “Also, I’m serious.”

“And who said I wasn’t?” He challenged. He smirked against his fist, wiggling his eyebrows.

You snorted. “The fact that you’re under some valentine voodoo makes all your intentions questionable.”

“You wound me.” He feigned offense, pouting as he clutched at the fabric of his shirt above his chest. “To be fair, my train of thought has always been questionable when it comes to you.”

“Again: unimpressed.” You buried your face into your hands, the second hand embarrassment of his poor attempt at flirting was overwhelmingly potent. Besides, it was difficult not to react when he looked at you so intently, like he was trying to memorize every minute detail of you.

“On a more serious note, I do remember the whole arrow thing.” He told you, his lips pursed. “I don’t blame you; it was a complete accident. It just feels… odd.”

Your ears perked up, worried. “You feel odd?”

“No,” He shook his head. His expression was perplexed, maybe a bit incredulous too. “That’s the thing. I feel completely normal.”

“That is weird.” You agree. You wrap the string in between your fingers around his wrist, measuring it to his size. "Maybe it was just a prank?"

“No. If anything, it’s more like I can’t hold my tongue.” He shrugs. “I can’t help but say what I think.”

“Would that explain the flirting?” You tease. All cheeky, but with a hint of curiosity hidden beneath the humor.

He leaned in, smirking. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You stare at him, tilting your head. He returns your gaze just as intensely, brown eyes fixed onto yours. He raises an eyebrow as if to question your silence. There was something magnetic between the two of you, pulsing and pulling you closer— maybe not physically, but definitely in other ways unbeknownst to you.

“Woah!” Percy exclaimed with an accusatory edge to his tone, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief and his palms raised as if to distance himself from you. “Respect for the children, maybe? Consider shielding my young impressionable eyes from this trauma?”

“Percy!” You squeaked rather uncharacteristically. Annabeth trailed behind closely, pushing a leg over the bench to sit beside you. You smiled at her, tugging her closer by placing your arm around her shoulders.

“Annabeth,” Luke called. “Trade places with me.”

Annabeth furrowed her eyebrows in confusion before narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “No.”

“Come on.” He persisted. He leaned in, almost conspiratorial. “You know, the Stoll brothers have an extensive archive, and I think I may have heard word of them having that Rem Kolhaas book you've been raving about."

Annabeth stopped to consider the offer before ultimately conceding. She stood up from her seat. “That’s a big bribe for a small favor.”

“Know what prices to pay to win your battles.” Luke muttered as he sidled up next to you, grinning triumphantly. His fingers played with the hem of your weathered camp shirt. “Sacrifices aren’t much in the face of victory.”

“Did you just use a bad battle strategy as a flirting tactic?” Annabeth scrunched her nose in distaste. “Gross.”

"Done." You finish tying up the ends, letting the red bracelet dangle in Luke's line of vision.

"It looks so pretty, baby." He compliments you, holding out his wrist. You proudly put it on for him. "Not as pretty as you though."

You scoff. Both Annabeth and Percy imitate gagging noises.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

The only time you ever truly left each other’s side were the few moments of reprieve before dinner where you’d returned to your cabins. The older campers insisted on making the meal a whole affair, complete with a romantic candlelit set-up and a string quartet to serenade everyone. Chiron decided to indulge the request and sent everyone back to freshen up.

“Have fun with your boyfriend?”

“Christ!” You jumped in your spot, turning around to see Eros laying on one of the bunks. His arms were tucked underneath his head, his smile suggestive and knowing.

“Lord Eros,” You bowed.

“That is not your shade.” He tutted, pointing to the tinted gloss in your hand. “Too summery for your complexion this time of year. Go for the pink one. He’ll go berserk.”

“Thanks.” You muttered, facing your vanity once more. You dabbed the product against your lips. You sighed as you inspected your make-up. Once more, he was right.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He shifted to his side, looking at you expectantly.

“Yeah, I guess.” You grumbled. You looked down, pretending to look for something in your drawer so he wouldn’t notice the blush creeping up your cheeks. Luke refused to leave your side the entire day— his fingers hooked around the belt hoops of your skirt in one way or another. He made a whole spectacle of it too: his big brown eyes tender, his wistful sighs, his shy grins, his playful winks.

“Good.” He clapped his hands. “Gods, the boy has had a crush on you for forever, you know. It was torture watching him pine over you. I can only take so much longing.”

You froze, staring at him through the mirror. He stared back at you.

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know,” He sounded shocked; he was shocked. “You’re a daughter of Aphrodite, how could you not know?! That's like our thing!”

“Well, he hasn’t been obvious, has he?” You rebutted, flicking your wrist.

“Sis, I don’t know what reality you’re living in,” He sat up on the bed, “But that boy wouldn’t know subtle even if it hit him in the face.”

“But surely it’s just because of the arrows.” You rationalized.

“Nuh uh.” He wiggles a finger in the air to deny the accusation. “The arrows you used just accentuate pre-existing feelings. Not make new ones.”

A knock interrupts your conversation. You hurry to fix your hair, brushing it out of the way. Your hands begin to shake with giddy excitement. You feel your heart thrum strongly against your chest, almost wanting to burst out from the confines of your body and find its other half in Luke. Your smile eventually becomes hard to contain.

Eros beams at you, his pupils dilating into hearts again like it did this morning. He opens the door for you and pushes you out. “Have fun with lover boy. Mother sends her regards.”

Luke spins around at the sound of the squeaky hinges. He can't help but pull a hand out of his pocket, his palm lightly grazing his chest. He whistles. “Call me favored by the gods because I think I’ve just entered Elysium.”

“You’ve been with me the whole day.” You responded pointedly, breathless and in love.

“And yet you still manage to take my breath away.” He gasps when you rush into him, wrapping your arms around his nape.

“This is new.” He looks down at you, your noses touching. His hands fall naturally to your hips, his thumbs rubbing against the fabric of your dress. “But definitely welcome.”

You gaze into his eyes before pressing your lips against his. They felt pleasant and pliant against your own. You tugged Luke closer, your fingers twirling through his curls. His hands squeezed your skin. The kiss burned sweetly, almost as if it’s been waiting in anticipation to happen.

When you both separate for air, Luke gently grabs your hands from behind him. He wraps his fists around yours, placing soft kisses on your knuckles. “I’ve been waiting so long for that.”

“So I’ve been told.” You hum. “I figured I might take the first step.”

“Don’t worry.” He presses another kiss against your lips, short and sweet. “I promise to match your pace the rest of the way.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺

taglist: @ace-spades-1 @patitotodd @fandomthings-blog @bugcuti3 @liv1104 @mindflay3r

#luke castellan #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo tv series #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series

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godmadeaterribleerror · 2 months ago

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So Go On - A Babylon the Great Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Author's Note: Did anyone ask for this? No. Am I doing it anyway? Yes.

Chaper title from Give 'Em Hell Kid by My Chemical Romance

Word Count: 2.9k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Sam Chapter! Takes place after Chapter 20. Usual warnings.

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, angst, fluff

Read on A03!

When Sam Winchester was seven, he got lost in grocery store. All the walls had been too tall, and all the aisles had looked the same, and he’d squirmed away from Dean’s hand because he’d wanted to look at all the stuffed animals. He’d seen dog when they’d walked past, and Dad had said they couldn’t have a dog—isn’t safe, Sammy, and I ain’t got time to take care of it—but a stuffed one wouldn’t hurt anyone.

But the novelty had worn off fast—Sam couldn’t even find Dad to pitch his idea—and then he was just alone. Afraid and surrounded by strangers, some of them giving him odd looks as he’d bawled on the floor, some offering help that Sam had run from.

Dad said not to take help from strangers. That it was dangerous, and could Sam up dead.

Dean said they had each other. That if Sam needed him, just to find him. And the store had been so big—Sam really didn’t miss when everything was too big—and until Dean did find him, there had still just been an overwhelming sense of lost. Unsure where to go, or what to do, or how this could possibly end. Only knowing that he wanted it to end.

To find Dean, and have it be over.

A few weeks after that, Sam had asked Dean how Dad knew Mom was the one. It had seemed like a rational question at the time—it was Valentine’s season, there had been a romcom on the TV that Dean had turned off with a groan, but Sam had still seen the end of, and Sam was just starting to starting to understand the difference between love and in love—but Dean had just grimaced.

“Dad doesn’t wanna talk about it.” He’d muttered, and Sam had frowned.

“But I’m asking you.”

“Well, I don’t know.”

“But…” Sam had trailed off, swinging his legs off the motel chair as he watched Dean glare at the cereal box. “Dad did love mom, right?”

Dean had scoffed. “Of course Dad loved Mom. He’s working to avenge her because he loved her. That’s what love is, Sammy.”

Sam hadn’t been sure what Dean meant by that. At first, he’d decided it was avenging, because that was what Sam had ended up doing for Jess. But then Jess had still been dead, and Sam had been left with a whole lot of love that just hurt, until it faded into more of an ache and sorrow that he hadn’t gotten to love more.

So love couldn’t be vengeance. That started after the loss.

After that, Sam had thought that Dean had meant fighting.

Dean did fight with Her all the time. They’d never actually attacked each other—as far as Sam knew, though he was also pretty sure neither of them could ever bear to take so much as a swing at the other—but they argued about plans and strategies and hunts and a million other stupid things.

And then Dean would always turn around and fight for Her. Physically—holding a gun and moving in front of Her on a hunt, even though they all knew for a fact She didn’t need the help—or on Her behalf, telling Sammy how much She hated Ruby.

But Dean did that for Sam, too. He’d traded his life for Sam, and argued with Sam about a lot more than Ruby. So that was love, but it wasn’t love. It wasn’t what Dean had been talking about, all those years ago.

And there had been a very long point where Sam really hadn’t had a guess for what Dean could have meant. Maybe the key had been in the phrasing. It had just been vengeance the whole time, because Dean had said Dad loved Mom. Past tense. Just like Sam loved Jess. Still strongly, and probably a little bit for the rest of his life, but gone. Over.

Lost.

Sam didn’t like being lost.

Dean hated camping because of the bugs, and lack of civilization. And while Sam didn’t complain about it quite as much—people didn’t really seem to care about Sam’s problems enough for complaining to get him anywhere—he also wasn’t a huge fan. It was just like the grocery store. Sam was tall, but the trees were taller.

And it was too easy to get lost.

Maybe Dean thought love meant being lost. That had been a very quick thought that was dismissed, because it was insane, and Sam had realized the truth minutes after.

Dean hadn’t had a fucking clue what love was. He’d been talking out of his ass, parroting what Dad had probably told him and not knowing better. And Dad certainly hadn’t known what love was. He might have known then forgotten, through the haze of the grief, but whatever he’d told Dean had been wrong.

Love seemed to be a lot of things. Too many for Sam to isolate and study individually. He’d like to study it, but that was probably something that would get him called weird again.

She never called him weird. If Sam pitched studying love to Her, she might actually be on board with it. She was maybe the only person weirder than Sam was. And then he could—ethically—trick Her into being one of the test subjects, because there really wasn’t anyone who seemed to experience love more potently. Sam could fucking see it and hear it, every time She so much as said Dean’s name.

Dean did the same thing, though. Sam was being put in a very annoying situation where he had to pretend that every time Dean called Her and she picked up, he didn’t notice the grin and change of tone. How Dean’s voice would drop a whole octave, and he’d lean back in his chair while smiling too wide for how he was still covered in blood from a hunt.

It was amazing that She hadn’t noticed. Sam thought of Her as an observant person, but somehow, all those details always escaped Her. It was the same as how normally, Dean was good at knowing the people he cared about. He’d always shown it through actions, their whole life. Ordering for Her and Sam at the diner and getting it right, doing work on the cars Bobby didn’t have time for, bringing Her any lore books She didn’t already have.

And Dean did know Her. Sam had no doubt Dean knew Her.

But he still hadn’t seemed to work out why She’d gone insane when he’d been dying, or ran when they’d lost him. And She still didn’t notice enough to see why Dean didn’t spend nights with anyone but Her anymore, and always smiled at Her like she was the only thing in the world.

So Sam’s working theory was that love meant being a fucking dumbass.

It had to. And it was going to drive him insane that the only two people in the world that he’d ever seen be in love—full, true, star-eyed and almost adorably oblivious love—were so in love they were never going to figure it out themselves.

Sam would help them, if he was allowed to. But the last time he’d brought it up with Her, she’d thrown him across a room and started crying. And every time he mentioned it to Dean, there was a very strong sense of I’ll fucking kill you, Sammy in the air.

That never stopped him, though. With Dean. Dean could take it. And Sam had earned mocking Dean about it, because he’d been forced to put up with eight years of just friends, Sammy, only to take one tiny push for it to be more. Sam leaves them alone for a few days, suddenly they’re sleeping in the same bed. Sam tells Dean to just go to Boston, and now they’re kissing. Sam pretends not to hear Dean sneaking out of their motel room in Florida, now they’ve kissed twice.

One day, Sam was going to lock them in a room together, and maybe they’d finally have sex. Then they could have a good reason to just get their own room, and Sam would never have to be subjected to their longing eyes at each other again

Or hear Dean moaning Her name in his sleep.

That one would be freeing

It always felt wrong. Worse than when Dean had been on a sex spree at the start of the demon deal, and Sam had been forced to wait in the car. That had felt more like a chore. This felt like an invasion. Like walking in on his parents having sex, even if She wasn’t even in the room.

Sam wasn’t sure where She was. Cas wouldn’t tell anyone.

He wished She’d come back.

It was harder to get lost, when She was here. She always knew what to do. If there was a case he couldn’t solve, Sam had always been able to ask Her for help. If he and Dean were fighting, She’d never talk to Sam less, even if She didn’t bother to hide Her opinion on the matter.

Like with Ruby.

Sam wished he could talk to Her about Ruby.

About how he wasn’t sure. He was lost again. Bobby and Dean were telling him to stop, but they didn’t understand. Sam could change things. He could help everyone, and he had it under control, and even if it wasn’t good wouldn’t it be better to do somethingrather than nothing? Wasn’t saving people what this was all about, no matter how much it hurt?

And if he was too far gone, wouldn’t it be better to just finish it? He might already be past repair. He might have been born past repair. Sam had always had a little too much sympathy for monsters, and he’d always wanted the best for everyone, but he didn’t know how to do that when he was lost. And Ruby offering him a way out of the woods.

She’d understand that. She’d been lost too. In pain and not sure what was happening to Her.

And if She didn’t, She’d tell Sam what he needed to hear. To stop. Just stop, because She didn’t trust Ruby, and Sam could keep being lost, but it would all end okay. There would be another way. She always found another way, and so there had to be one for Lilith, too. And She’d find it, and Sam wouldn’t have to do this.

She was good at reading people, too. Sam knew She was. She made the same sharp, snap judgements and opinions Bobby did, and they were both right more often than wrong.

And maybe Ruby was the one where She wrong. Sam wanted Her to be wrong. He wanted to trust Ruby, because it wasn’t her fault she was a demon, and she’d been there for him, when they lost Dean.

But Sam would have had Her too, if he’d looked for Her.

And maybe things would be different. Maybe She’d have given Sam a good reason to stop trusting Ruby, or She’d come around and Sam would be proven right.

It didn’t matter now. Sam trusted Ruby. The only person who understood, and was trying to guide him out to the other side.

He still wished he could be sure.

He still missed Her, and wished She’d come home.

“How do you know there’s always another way?” Sam had asked Her, a few weeks before everything went to hell, and She left.

He and Dean had been on a hunt not that far from Sioux Falls, and She’d driven out to keep them company and help with research. It was the exact same as what She’d be doing back at Bobby’s. And Sam didn’t tell Her, but he knew She was only here because She wanted to see Dean.

Sam had been forced to swallow a snort, when Dean had opened the door to see Her and visibly swayed like he was drunk.

Love really did make them idiots.

She’d shrugged from the bed, Her gaze fixed on her laptop. “Don’t know. There just is, I guess. Haven’t found something that didn’t have another way. What do you want to do for dinner?”

Sam had frowned. “It’s like, eleven at night- Did you not eat dinner?”

“I-“ She’d paused, frowning at the clock on the nightstand. “Shit. Don’t tell-“

“Son of a bitch, it’s fuckin’ cold.” Dean had pushed open the door without warning, throwing a bag of chips at Sam’s face as he headed straight for the bed and carefully passed a sheath of Oreos and a muffin into Her hands. “Everything is so fuckin’ expensive here.”

She’d raised Her brows, a soft, sweet smile—the one that only Dean ever seemed to get, which the dumbass never noticed—already on Her face as Dean dropped at Her side. “We’re near Chicago, De, things aren’t going to be as cheap as home.”

“Yeah, but my jerky cost seven bucks.” Dean had grumbled, and She’d giggled. Sam had decided to investing in headphones.

“What were you planning on doing with that money instead of jerky? Investing?”

“No. Could’ve bought you a better muffin.”

“But I like this muffin just fine.”

“That’s because you have terrible taste in food, Princess. I could put sugar on a fish and you’d eat it.“

“Why would you put sugar on a fish-“

“To prove a point-“

“Stupid point to prove.”

“That’s pretty rude, sweetheart, I just bought you a muffin-“

“Dean.” Sam had called, and Dean had shot him a glare. “Did you get the coroner reports? Or were you too busy worrying about the jerky economy?”

She’d laughed at that. Even as Dean had scowled and marched back out to the car, She’d laughed.

It had made Sam feel big and warm, in his chest. Just like when he’d gone on his first hunt with just Dean, and he’d been to one to torch the body just in him. Dean had grinned at him and said nice job, Sammy.

She had laughed.

And Sam had seen how She didn’t stop watching the door until Dean came back. Or how Dean hadn’t even bothered to try and do work, seeming to decided that sitting at Her side and making sure She actually ate the muffin was a lot more important.

Sam could agree with that. There was always a slight itch under his skin about how She so obviously needed help taking care of Herself, but Sam wasn’t allowed to offer it.

He was never sure if She just didn’t trust him, or didn’t want him to do anything extra. Even thoughSam would be more than willing to try and offer Her food when Dean was busy, to remind her to go to the bathroom when she hadn’t moved in hours, or tp sit in the room with Her when she needed sleep. Not on the bed, though. Just in a chair, if it would help.

But those were things only Dean was allowed to do.

Just like She was the only person Sam had ever seen Dean pass out against. She and Sam had continued researching while Dean watched TV—or pretended to watch TV, Sam could see he was actually watching Her more—right until he started snoring, slumped slightly against Her, and She’d closed Her laptop to take the remote from his hands.

She’d turned on a chick flick.

Sam hadn’t managed to hide that snort. “Dean hates these things, you know.”

She’d rolled Her eyes. “Dean can eat me.”

Sam had snorted again. If he knew anything about his brother, it was that Dean really wouldn’t object to that idea. He might short-circuit in a way She’d somehow miss, if he heard Her say that.

And if it had been reversed—She’d been passed out at Dean’s side, Her head resting on his shoulder—this was the part where Sam would’ve started teasing.

But he didn’t want to tease Her. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing, and be the reason Dean lost Her.

Sam never saw Dean happier than when she was here.

He never saw him more stressed than when She was gone.

And maybe that’s what love was. Always feeling better when they were there, and worse when they weren’t.

Sam wished he could make it better for Dean now. When She was gone again, and Dean never said it, but Sam could see the toll it was taking. Dean was sleeping less, frowning more, and on a further edge than usual.

And Sam wasn’t helping, by working with Ruby.

He wanted to start helping again. He was working with Ruby to help.

And maybe killing Lilith would be enough to bring Her home. Sam would’ve helped like that. By bringing the woman Dean loved home, by getting Bobby back his daughter, by offering himself the only person who’d never treated him as odd or strange back into his life.

The only person who wouldn’t try to make Sam do something, or tell him where to go, only for him to end up more lost than before.

Sam didn’t know what to do.

And when She is gone, Sam sometimes felt seven again. Lost and wandering around the grocery store, everything looking like too much of the same, waiting for someone to grab his hand and show him the way back.

End Note: He misses his mom :( (She's literally a year older than he is)

Thank you so so so much for reading!! If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

Buy me a coffee!☕️

Taglist (If you want to be added, please fill out the form!)

@brtodd @artemys-ackles @sthefferrete @lyarr24 @deansbbyx

@bakugotypecrashout @kittycain @foolinthera1n @globetrotter28 @lordofthunderthr

@youdontknowe @nyrtopia @Zuberweirrd @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @panicking-outside-the-disco

@ambiguous-avery @elle14-blog1 @impala67rollingthroughtown @dumb--blonde @heyimolive

@itsdearapril @speedypersonawhispers @apobangpo-0613 @alwaystiredandconfused @kamisobsessed

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@lovelywebber @salemslostwitch @winchester-whiskey @and-i-wish @ghosth0ney

@funkenniffler @laurakirsten0502 @deans-yn

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lacy-oh-lacy · 11 months ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒎 𝑪𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝑺𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒔 𝒄𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒄𝒔

⋆ 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒆𝒚, 𝑰𝒗𝒚 & 𝑺𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒂 x Reader | 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒆𝒚

-Harley’s so over the top, she's pulling out her best grand romantic gestures from day one

-but she's also famously “crazy”, so how seriously are you even meant to take it when she starts declaring her love for you like she's a romcom protagonist and not a literal supervillain?

-Well, she takes it deadly seriously, there's a blurred line between a crush and suffocating devotion for Harley

-Emotions hit her hard and escalate fast, and suddenly she's all over you, she's gotta be the clingiest girl in Gotham and you’re not even dating

-Whether it's inviting herself to your home or hugging you out of the blue. Boundaries? Never heard of them

-She’s lovesick, some people might even say she doesn't have crushes, she has victims, but she truly would do almost anything to make you happy

-Her real victims are the people on your bad side, them and anyone who could take you away from her. If you try to date someone else while she has a crush on you, god bless their soul, you’re never seeing them again

-In her delusional brain it's only a matter of time until you feel the same way, but if that's not in the cards, don't worry because she may very well lose interest in you as suddenly as she gained it

𝑰𝒗𝒚

-As a misanthrope, Ivy hates the fact that she has a crush on you, a plain old human. She's disappointed in herself honestly

-Though a master of seduction and manipulation, she has no intention of using such tactics on you, or pursuing you at all for that matter

-More often than not she’s just as cold and standoffish with you as she is with the rest of the world but if you still treat her with decency despite that she's gonna fall for you 10x harder

-She keeps her feelings under lock and key but actions speak louder than words, and the non-verbal kindness she shows you speaks volumes

-Like, again, she’s such a misanthrope and yet she's saving your life, comforting you when you're down, forgiving you for faults that would sign someone else’s death warrant…

-She knows she should just stay far away from you since she doesn't want to deal with her feelings but she can't bring herself to do that either

-especially if you need her in some way, for a villain she really can't resist a damsel in distress

-Basically, she’s simultaneously the least likely of the three to confess her feelings, and also the biggest simp

𝑺𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒂

-Selina’s seductive charm is amped up to eleven around you, you could cut the sexual tension with a batarang

-but don't let your chemistry disarm you, because she’d betray you in a second to further her own ends

-not that she’d ever let something truly bad happen to you, she is much more protective than she lets on

-She’s good at playing it cool like that, you're never quite sure where you stand with her but you know you're getting special treatment

-She’s not a piner, she doesn't miss you when you're not around… but that doesn't mean you're not on her mind, more often than she’d willingly admit actually

-She’s slow to trust and even as she's falling for you she's testing you, she wants to make sure you're worth it

-and once she knows that you are, she is down atrociously bad, you wouldn't know it with how smooth she acts but this woman would follow you through hell

-She likes playing games, she likes the chase, but she also wants to seal the deal, she's used to taking getting what she wants and it shows

#dc x reader #harley quinn x reader #selina kyle x reader #catwoman x reader #poison ivy x reader #pamala isley x reader #dc #harley quinn #selina kyle #poison ivy

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yourlocalravendork · 4 months ago

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~Tell me more, tell me more~

Spencer confides in Derek about his date with reader. Unbeknownst to Spencer, reader confides in Penelope about their date with Spencer.

A/N: Is this becoming a series???? Maybe I'm just two involved in these two awkward nerds and I can't just let them be one shots. I played around with the writing style a little. Hopefully it isn't too confusing as I like to think I signposted who was talking pretty well.

Accidental date (1st) The not so accidental date (2nd)

Over the last few days, all that was on Spencer's mind was your date. The way you happily let him ramble about how different the film was to the book. The way you brushed his hair out of his face. He just couldn't help but keep his mind on that night. So much so, a certain Derek Morgan picked up on it.

"So, kid, what's on your mind?" Derek asked, resting on Spencer's desk. "I was just thinking about the very distinct difference between the 10th Doctor with Rose and the 10th Doctor after Rose. The character arch is actually quite intresting and it really makes you think about-" Before Spencer could continue his little ramble about Doctor Who, Derek cut him off. "Cut it, kid. We both know your British alien show isn't the thing in the forefront of your mind," Derek said with his usual tomcat smile, "So spill. What's got your mind turning to mush?" Spencer began stuttering and stumbling under his breath, trying to get out of the situation. It was still very delicate with you. He didn't even know if you two were dating. "I went on a date," Spencer mumbled and that's all Derek needed to hear before pouncing. "Get 'em, playa," he teased, giving Spencer a congratulatory slap on the back, "Who was it?" Spencer didn't say anything. Hell, he didn't need to. His eyes betrayed him as he glanced over to your desk. Derek's smirk only widened.

You however, were eagerly discussing the date in Penelope's office. "So, spill," Penelope said, handing you a mug of piping hot tea. She sat eagerly, awaiting the details of your little movie date with Spencer. "I mean, you heard about our little accidental date, right?" you asked wanting to make sure that she was caught up with your recent escapades. "The planetarium trip, Derek told me all about it. It's just so you two!" Penelope practically squealed. Seeing your friend so enthusiastic about your dating life was rather endearing. "OK, so this time I just sort of asked him," You explained, taking a sip of tea after you finished your sentence.

"They asked you?" Derek repeated what Spencer had told him, slightly impressed that you had the confidence. "It was… Awkward," Spencer said slowly, trying to find the best words, "But a good awkward."

"I thought I was too blunt," you continued your explanation, "And there was this slightly awkward air about us." Penelope was eagerly hanging into every word you were feeding her. She lived for this gossip. Especially when it involved you and Spencer. The two of you were like her own personal romcom unfolding in front of her. "Go on, tell me more," Penelope encouraged.

"They offered to take me to see that new Dorian Gray film," Spencer explained, a small blush painting his cheeks as he looked down at his hands. The still couldn't believe it had happened. "And let me guess, you told them all about the deviations from the book?" Derek teased light heartedly.

"He did not," Penelope gasped, trying to reign in her excitement. "Yeah, every so often, he'd whisper contextual information about the book and such," you admitted, a blush matching Spencer's unbeknownst to you. It was sweet. Like the two of you gossiping about school child crushes sharing with your best friends. "You two nerds are made for each other," Penelope declared which made you roll your eyes.

"It sounds like you had a nice night then, kid," Derek said with a nod of approval. "Yeah, it was nice," Spencer said with a soft smile. He wasn't exactly use to this. The office gossip was usually about others, not him. But Derek was almost like his older brother. Telling Derek about your date felt like getting approval from your big brother. "There was one other thing, too," Spencer added.

"I brushed his hair out of his face," You told Penelope with a smile on your face. "You did not!" Penelope gasped. From all of these details you were telling her, it felt like she was planning out yours and Spencer's wedding in her head. The two babies of the BAU, hopelessly in love. "Yeah, I did. He was just talking and it fell in his face. I… I wasn't thinking." A soft smile took over your lips at the memory. Spencer's soft hair and his even softer blush.

"That's what was on your mind then." Derek put two and two together. He had a sense of pride when it came to hearing about Spencer's date. Like watching Spencer grow up. "You want my advice, pretty boy?" Derek offered which Spencer eagerly nodded. Spencer would take any advice he could get. He didn't want to mess this up, whatever this was that the two of you had. "Just be yourself." "Just be myself? Have you seen how that usually works out for me?" Spencer asked. 'Just be yourself'. Those words always sounded like a trap. No one would want a nerdy, fact spewing boyfriend. They'd want someone normal. Spencer wasn't normal. "Think about it kid. They loved the planetarium date, they asked you out to the film, your geeky tenancies have won over their heart. They don't want some constructed personality to try and make them like you. They want you." Derek's advice made sense. You wanted Spencer for Spencer. That was new for him. New but definitely not unwelcome.

Both of your gossip sessions were cut short due to being called into the roundtable. You and Penelope came out of her office and crossed paths with Derek and Spencer as the four of you were heading to the roundtable. With a shy exchange of "Hi," from both you and Spencer, Derek and Penelope shared a look. A smirk that suggested they were definitely going to meddle and play matchmaker.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #i love spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #derek morgan #penelope garcia #mgg #gn reader #x gn reader #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid criminal minds

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ohtobelovedbyme · 18 days ago

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"What do you think of me?" | yjh [ch3]

Pairing: YJH x Reader

Genre: best friend’s brother to lovers (or something), FLUFF, romcom, office setting, yjh and his sister are nepo babies

Summary (this chapter basically goes like this): you: just trying to survive internship hell jeonghan: what if i grabbed ur wrist and whispered in ur ear while drunk also jeonghan: accidentally falls on you and passes out while BTS plays in the background also also jeonghan: “what do you think of me?” update: he stole the can you drank on and now you think he’s wearing your same, exact perfume. chat, is this normal behavior?

A/N: FINALLY DONE WITH THIS CHAPTER AHHH. I was planning on publishing this and ch4, but I figured you guys would want to read this first cause it's been 3 days (?) now 😭😭

Teaser | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 3

By 3:17 PM, you had already run out of your post-its, remaining patience, and reasons to live. Since last week, your seniors have been dumping all their work onto the interns. Your group chat, named “Corporate Work Trauma,” had more than 99 unread messages, either from interns begging the other to help them complete their work or wishing that your seniors would magically get fired and be replaced by more responsible people.

Just as you were about to complete your final assignment for today, you hear the sound of that stupid humming again.

“Intern! I’ll be needing your help with some of the materials for tomorrow.” Manager Kang, from a completely different department, walked over with urgent footsteps and dropped a stack of documents on your desk.

You just stared at it blankly. Manager Kang then cleared his throat, as if to say, “Oh, don’t worry. That will only take you 5 minutes.”

“Just flag me what’s urgent on e-mail, and I’ll get to it as soon as possible,” you looked up with the smiliest and politest face you’ve ever worn, but anyone who knew you would know that you were on the verge of either killing Manager Kang or breaking down.

“Great attitude,” he said, walking away.

“What an ass,” you muttered under your breath. You couldn’t hold it in, but you didn’t want to get fired either.

It was petty, yeah, but so was this day. And the day before that. And the day before yesterday.

From his office, Jeonghan looked up from his monitor. He looked around the room, and all the lights were turned off except for the intern area.

This usually happens every time the company hires new interns. A “rite of passage,” they called it. A hazing, he’d say. Usually, those seniors would get a serious talking to by the rest of the management, but this was just for formality since, well, those same people also do the same thing.

Jeonghan scrunched his nose just at the thought of how many interns quit last year. He did try to help them, albeit only those in his department. He only heard about those assholes from those adjacent departments that dumped tasks onto his interns and made them do their work when two of them quit. From then on, he banned other departments from casually coming in and out of his department. But I guess this happened again, since the interns right now have been staying late in the office for three days straight.

He finally stood up and went out of his office to tell the interns to go home for the night and to report to him about who was making them work and what they were assigned to do.

“Hey.”

You blinked up from your monitor, staring. Joenghan’s voice was low and effortless, like it was just another thought passing through the room.

The rest of the interns did the same and asked him if there was anything he needed. He asked them to leave for the night and to report to him tomorrow

The rest of the interns looked up like they’d just been told the war was over.

“Oh my god. Finally,” one of them breathed out, already half-standing.

“Bro, I’m gonna write a 10-page essay about the hell these people put me through,” another muttered, cracking their knuckles with a vengeance.

“Team Leader Yoon, you’re the realest one here,” someone said, patting their bag and walking out like it was the end of a prison sentence.

One of them turned back to you. “You coming?”

You glanced at your monitor, finger still hovering over the trackpad. “Yeah. Just have to finish this last page,” you said with a small smile.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Won’t take long.”

With a round of exhausted goodbyes and a collective sigh that echoed through the empty office, the rest of them finally filtered out.

When the last of the other interns finally leaves the office, you look up at your monitor. It was just one last page, and you were done. Might as well finish this and not let your hard work go down the drain before the bloody battle that breaks out tomorrow.

“You free for a second?” Jeonghan, who, unbeknownst to you, has been staring at you since he dismissed you.

“Hmm? Me?” you asked, surprised. That was a dumb way to respond, since you were the only one there (other than him). But, you know, you’re tired, he’s tired. There’s something abysmal, yet normal, about your reaction.

“No, the ficus. Yes, you. You’re the only one here.”

You got up, slowly, wary. “Okay…”

Jeonghan walks to his office, and you follow him. Right now, you’re not sure about what’s happening. He just dismissed you a while ago, right? You didn’t just dream that, right?

He opened his office door for you, and you stepped in. You’re hit with the scent again, but this time, it's more subtle.

It was late in the evening, and you’re too tired. The ambience of it all was so relaxing, you’re sure you would sleep here right now, if it weren’t for the subconscious part of your body telling you to sleep in your own bed.

“Sit,” Jeonghan said, his eyes pointing towards the couch.

You, oddly enough, half-expected a lecture on HR violations or intern responsibilities. More work. Maybe a mild scolding delivered in that stupidly smooth voice of his.

As you went to plop on the couch, he opened the drawer under his desk. From your view, you could see the shine of aluminium. A canned herbal tea and a familiar chocolate almond bar. Weird combo? Sure. But it was your go-to back in college, herbal tea and almond chocolate during all-nighters.

Jeonghan walked over to you, his shadow looming over your body. He held them out like a peace offering.

You just looked at what’s in his hands. “You... called me in for this?”

As you were about to take them, he pulled back his hand and opened the can first before placing both products on the glass coffee table in front of you. You roll your eyes.

He sat on the couch opposite you and leaned back, his hands going behind the back of his head. Casual. Composed. Eyes on you like he was studying your expression for microreactions. At first, you were hesitant. Your eyebrows furrowed, making that expression you had every time you’re curious about something. He knows what you were thinking about. How did he know about what you wanted, and why did he have them ready at his office? But then, you finally start drinking the tea.

Your eyes, already half-lidded, began to soften further. Before taking another sip, you went ahead to dig into the chocolate bar. Oh, the mood right now was too cozy. The lavender atmosphere, the soft wool couch swallowing you whole, and you finally having your first meal in almost seven hours, no less, from the man in front of you. God, you just wanted to stay there forever.

“You looked like you were ready to go to the morgue,” he said. “Figured you’d need something to swallow before you head home.”

You chewed slowly, staring at him as your brain finally caught up with what was happening. “Woahhh... Team Leader Yoon Jeonghan,” you drawled, voice thick with playful suspicion. “How did you know I was craving this exact combo? Have you been stalking me?”

Jeonghan quirked a brow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he said lazily. “If I were stalking you, I’d probably know you secretly take screenshots of food from that mukbang channel at midnight.”

You choked slightly on your tea, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

“‘Saved Posts,” he said, smug. “Public account. Rookie mistake, seriously. Who taught you internet safety?”

You gasped, half-laughing, half-mortified. “You actually went through my saved posts?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t have to. Your notifications were on during that one meeting, and your screen lit up with your username. Curiosity got the better of me.”

You paused, your hand still gripping the chocolate bar. Your cheeks flushed, just slightly, the faintest pink blooming as his words sank in.

You clutched your forehead dramatically. “Unbelievable. I’m never showing my phone in public again.”

Jeonghan leaned forward then, elbows on his knees, gaze steady. “You interns have been running yourselves into the ground lately. Figured someone should give a damn.”

You looked at him, and for a second, you couldn’t say anything. The teasing was there, sure, but underneath it was... sincere.

You rolled your eyes, if only to hide how warm you felt. “You could’ve just sent an email like a normal person.”

He scoffed. “And miss the chance to see your tragic little face in person?”

“Wow. Thanks,” you said flatly, trying not to smile.

Jeonghan waited a full five seconds before glancing back at the door. Then, slowly, he sat back into his chair.

His gaze dropped to the half-crushed can on the table, the one you'd sipped from earlier. Faint, but still visible: a perfect smudge of maroon left on the aluminium rim. It wasn’t just a mark. It was the same shade you'd been wearing all night. The same shade you’d been wearing since you started working here. Rich. Creamy. Almost too bold for you.

His fingers reached for it. Brushed the edge.

The pigment clung to his skin. He turned his hand over, staring at the stain against the pad of his index finger. A color too soft to be dangerous, but too dark to be innocent.

He lifted his fingers to his mouth.

A pause.

Then, he touched his lips to them.

The warmth wasn’t the same. But it mimicked what could’ve been yours.

He exhaled through his nose, a quiet, bitter laugh.

He didn’t even like herbal tea and almond chocolate.

The hum of the vending machine was the only sound filling the small break room. You sat slouched on the bench, head resting against the cold wall, eyes closed. The coffee in your hands had gone lukewarm. Your shoes were kicked off, legs tucked beneath you like you were claiming this sad little corner as your territory.

Today, you finally finished all the projects you were assigned. Your fellow interns finally stopped cursing and hexing your seniors, and you finally have time to relax. Moreover, those same seniors got chewed out by Team Leader Yoon. “My final warning,” you remember how his voice was calm and calculating, making everything he said sound like a death threat instead of a “I’ll-send-you-to-HR” threat.

“You look like you got hit by a truck,” a familiar voice piped up.

You cracked one eye open to find your best friend, Jeonghan’s younger sister, leaning against the doorframe, sipping from her iced latte like she hadn’t just insulted you.

“Truck, bus, and a management-level bullet train,” you deadpanned, sighing dramatically as you took another sip of your coffee. “The seniors? Demonic. One of them made me sort three years of archived campaign decks. My soul left my body halfway through 2023.”

She winced. “Okay, yeah. That’s cruel and unusual. Even I don’t like those archives, and I barely do anything.”

You snorted.

She sauntered over and sat beside you, nudging your shoulder. “You’ve been looking real burnt-out lately. You okay?”

You shrugged. “It’s fine. Just new intern stuff. Paying my dues. Blood, sweat, tears, and barely-scheduled bathroom breaks. Besides, your lovely brother finally saved us.”

“Ew, don’t call him that.” She grimaced. “You need a break. Like, real one.”

You looked at her suspiciously. “Why do you sound like you’re about to propose something... stupid? Insane? What’s the right word….”

She smirked. “Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all… maybe I am.”

You squinted. “Don’t say team-building workshop. I’ll cry.”

“Worse.” Her grin widened. “Karaoke. Tonight.”

You groaned. “Nooo. My legs feel like overcooked noodles. I can’t stand, let alone scream-sing IU.”

“But it’s to celebrate! You finally survived intern hell. That deserves a round of somaek.”

You blinked. “Can’t we just do that without involving the whole department?”

“Nope. Everyone’s coming--well, everyone that matters. Especially you interns. And…” She paused for a beat, her voice dropping just slightly into a mischievous tone. “Oppa might come too.”

“No, he won’t. No one will. Why? Because this won’t happen.”

“Come on~” She flipped her hair dramatically. “I might go tell him it’s a little celebratory thing.”

You stared at her. “You do know that he’s busy, right?”

She beamed. “Yeah, but he would make time. Maybe. As long as you’re there. Looking cute. And tired. And vulnerable.”

You almost choked on your coffee. “You’re evil.”

She beamed. “You love me.”

Jeonghan didn’t look up from his laptop when the door opened. “If this is about the budget sheet, tell them to stop using Comic Sans–”

“It’s not,” his sister sang-songed, plopping onto the guest chair across from his desk. “It’s about plans.”

“Sounds exhausting already.”

She leaned in, elbows on his desk. “Did you know we’re doing karaoke tonight?”

He raised a brow. “No.”

“Well, we are.”

“Sounds loud.”

“Mm-hmm.” She stretched the silence, letting it hang before she dropped the bait. “Guess who’s coming?”

His fingers paused mid-typing. “...”

“Yep. Poor girl’s been run ragged. You should’ve seen her, she looked like she was about to merge with the coffee machine. Thought it’d be nice for her to unwind.”

He didn’t reply right away, gaze still fixed on the screen, though nothing was being typed now.

His sister grinned. “Anyway. I told her you might come.”

This time, he looked at her.

“Just a heads up,” she added sweetly, before slipping out of the office.

Behind her, Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, his forearm rising to cover his eyes, as he slowly, very slowly smirked to himself. He let out a low chuckle, like he was plotting some evil Doofenshmirtz-level plan.

“This crazy bastard…” his sister just walked away as quickly as she could.

You were nestled in the corner of the private room, surrounded by your coworkers who were thriving in their tipsy chaos. The lights bounced off the walls, the mic was being tossed around like a volleyball, and someone was currently screaming their way through an old 2 PM hit.

You were smiling, even laughing occasionally, but your body still felt tired. Drained.

This probably wasn’t a good idea, but you were having fun. I guess you would have to prioritize your bodily needs tomorrow. The past few days had chewed you up and spit you out with a polite, overworked bow.

The door opened, and Jeonghan stepped in. Some of your coworkers did not expect him to come here, while the rest were too drunk to even get up from their seats. He was wearing a button-down shirt (too few buttons done up, you note) and sleeves rolled up like he just walked off a music video set.

You turned to your friend, who was screaming her lungs off. She made eye contact with you and winked. Yeah, no. This was her doing.

You could see his eyes scanning the room until they stopped. At you.

A faint smile ghosted across his lips. And then he walked in fully, sliding into an open seat at the end of the room, not next to you, but close enough to watch.

He didn’t even greet you directly.

You sipped your drink.

He sipped his.

But you could feel him there.

You had stepped out of the room to cool off. It was too warm. Too loud. Too much. It was like your skin couldn’t hold everything in anymore.

You were just beginning to breathe when you felt him.

Jeonghan leaned against the wall beside you like he belonged there. Like the hallway had been waiting for him.

You turned to see him, eyes closed, head tilted, cheek pressed lazily to his shoulder. His hair, beautifully disheveled, fanned out behind him, catching the soft light like silk. His shirt was slightly wrinkled, the few buttons still undone, skin glowing pale beneath the low light. His hair?

You couldn’t tell if he was drunk or just reckless tonight. But his presence was magnetic, pulling everything in, including you.

“Team Leader Yoon… are you alright?” Your voice came out quiet, unsure, but your body already moved. You stepped in, closer, protective by habit and helplessness.

He didn’t answer at first. Just hummed low. His head dipped in a slow, deliberate motion.

“...Jeonghan?”

You watched the fall of his bangs. The way his lashes brushed the flush of his cheeks. His lips– plump, a little red, and parted just enough to tempt every reckless impulse in your brain.

Your hand lifted. You didn’t mean to. But it did. Hovering near his mouth.

You wondered:

Were they still wet from all the drinks? Or dry from the hallway air?

You didn’t find out.

Then, heat. Fingers wrapped around your wrist. Slow, firm.

You gasped.

He opened one eye, heavy-lidded, a little too knowing. Then, slowly, like he had all the time in the world, Jeonghan pulled you toward him. Not hard, instead, it was gentle, devastating. Until your bodies nearly touched.

You could feel it.

The heat. The scent.

Sandalwood. Lavender. And something unmistakably his.

And then, with the barest smirk at the corner of his lips, his thumb brushed over your bottom lip.

Your breath hitched.

“Same color,” he murmured, voice low. “Your lips… the other night.”

You forgot how to blink.

His thumb lingered a second longer before sliding away, his grip still secure around your wrist. But now, it was his fingers that trailed gently along the skin there, mapping every inch like it was a confession.

And then,

he moved again.

You didn’t even register it until his fingers brushed the slope of your neck. Just enough to make your breath hitch and your spine freeze.

Then he found the necklace you wore.

His fingers traced the delicate chain along your neck, unbearably slow, like he already knew what it was doing to you. You swallowed, breath catching when he reached the pendant resting above your collarbone. It was heart-shaped. Of course it was. His thumb brushed over it once, twice, as if he was testing the rhythm beneath it.

You were certain. Utterly, humiliatingly certain that he could feel your heartbeat rising against the cage of your ribs like it wanted to leap into his palm.

He held onto it.

Lifted it slightly. As if weighing something.

“Still wearing this?” he said, almost like he was asking himself.

Then, he let it go gently. The charm dropped against your skin with a soft clink.

You didn’t get to exhale.

Because in the next second, his hand slid to the back of your neck. His fingers threading through your hair, palm warm and solid.

He pulled you closer.

Not rough. Not rushed.

Intentional.

Your body followed, helpless.

He leaned in. Past your cheek. Past your jaw.

And just as your breath trembled out, his lips brushed the side of your neck, and he whispered: “What do you think of me?”

Your knees nearly gave out.

You could feel every syllable burn against your skin. Every letter was a sin.

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t look at him.

Because he was right there. So close. And you knew, if you turned your head, your lips would meet.

But then–

The door behind you rattled.

Voices. Laughter. The sound of someone scream-singing off-key to “Autumn Leaves” by BTS. The hallway light flickered briefly from the opened door.

Your blood turned cold. Your stomach dropped.

He kept his hand at your nape. Still holding. Still there.

Your pulse thundered. His breath ghosted your jaw.

He looked amused. Barely. Like this was all some twisted game, and only he knew the rules.

“Let go,” you whispered, though you didn’t even sound like you meant it.

He didn’t.

He just smiled against your skin.

THUD.

“Oh God!”

Yoon Jeonghan. Your Team Leader. Your best friend’s brother.

And now? Collapsed at your feet. Dragging you down with him.

“Okay, okay, I got it, you’re very strong–”

You struggled to keep Jeonghan upright as he leaned heavily against your shoulder, humming some half-forgotten ballad into your ear. His hair was falling into his eyes, lips slack in a dopey grin.

Across from you, his sister, your beloved best friend, was swaying slightly on her feet.

“Sooo…” she slurred. “Isn’t he heavy? He’s heavy, right? I told him not to mix soju and beer.”

“You also cheered him on,” you deadpanned, glancing at her with a little more concern. “You don’t look so good either–wait, did you drink from that mystery cocktail?”

“Shhhh,” she hushed you with one finger to your lips. “Shhhh. Listen. Focus. Mission. Jeonghan. Home.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna take him to your apartment, right?”

Your best friend blinked, confusion present on her drunken face.

Then she laughed. “Babe, I can’t even find my own feet.”

You turned your head slowly to where Jeonghan was now lightly beatboxing under his breath with his eyes closed.

“Oh my god.”

Oh my god, indeed.

Somehow, by sheer divine intervention and one very confused taxi driver, you got Jeonghan into the backseat of a cab, while your best friend leaned dramatically against a lamp post, blinking slowly.

“Alright, I’ll ride with him,” she mumbled. “You go home.”

“Uh.” You hesitated. “I think I should go with you two, actually.”

“Noooo.” She waved a limp hand. “I’ll just… go to sleep.”

“What–no, you can’t sleep in a cab– wait, are you calling another one for yourself?”

She nodded very proudly, pressing her phone to her cheek like it was a teddy bear. “Like a pro.”

You sighed, pulling out your phone. “I’m calling someone else to–”

She called out your name in a long and slurred tone.

You turned, and your best friend was suddenly wide awake. Swaying, but possessed by purpose.

“I have a genius idea.”

“…not this again.”

“You take him home.”

“What?!”

“Genius,” she whispered proudly. “He trusts you.”

You stared at her, baffled. You shook your head and said: “I should be taking care of you, not your brother–”

“But I’ll be fiiine,” she grinned, now somehow sitting on the sidewalk. “I live around here. You’re going the same way, anywayyyy. You’re also the responsible one. He’ll be nice to you.”

From the cab, Jeonghan murmured something that sounded vaguely like, “You smell like flowers,” before slumping over dramatically.

You exhaled. And sighed. And almost cried a little.

“…I hate all of you.”

The drive was mostly quiet, save for the muffled sound of traffic and Jeonghan’s occasional humming, off-key, barely coherent, but somehow still hypnotic. His head was back on your shoulder again, like a magnet, a gravitational constant you had no power over.

Your heart hadn’t slowed down since the hallway.

You didn’t move. You didn’t even breathe too hard.

Then, the cab driver cleared his throat. Glanced at you two through the mirror. You, with your face red, with your boss leaning on your shoulders.

“So…” he said, voice light. “Are you two dating?”

You froze.

“I– what? N-No, we’re not–”

“Because you look good together,” the driver continued, oblivious and chuckling. “Like a couple in a drama, you know?”

You were about to melt into the seat and die when Jeonghan stirred beside you.

He blinked slowly. Then let out a soft chuckle.

And in a warm, slurred tone, he said–

“I agree with him… Are we?”

Your head snapped toward him, eyes wide.

“Jeonghan–!”

But he was smiling now, lopsided and sweet, his cheek still pressed to your shoulder like it was the most natural place in the world.

He turned his face slightly, lips grazing the fabric of your shirt.

“You’re soft,” he mumbled.

Your nervous system stopped completely

The cab driver laughed. “Ahah, young love.”

You slapped your hand over your face, covering every inch that exposed the flush of your cheeks. “I’m going to jump out of this car.”

“I’ll catch you,” Jeonghan murmured, barely audible now, already drifting again.

But his hand, warm and slow, was still holding your wrist. Thumb brushing lazily across your skin like he wasn’t done saying everything he wanted to say.

You didn’t speak for the rest of the ride.

But your heart did. Loudly. The whole time.

Tag list: @sumzysworld, @lixisoul99, @viciousdarlings, reiofsuns2001, @lily409, @armycarat2612, @cheolliesvt

(To everyone commenting/reacting to this story, thank u very much! I'll make sure to actually finish this for u guys 😭❤)

#jeonghan fluff #jeonghan x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #svt #svt x reader #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #jeonghan x you #seventeen

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kazumist · 1 year ago

Text

THE NAME OF LOVE .ᐟ

✩ — the three times hoshina soshiro dismissed his feelings for you as something that friends do and the one time he realized otherwise.

✩ — request: IVE BEEN WANTING TO REQ U SOMETHING FOR SO LONG NOW I HOPE U DONT MIND !! can i ask for hopeless romantic reader and hoshina soushirou.... the way he... is...... (LOVE PESSIMIST 🫵) I'm a sucker for hoshina falling first or confessing first but it is truly up to you!! i genuinely have no idea where im going with this so pls feel free to change anything to your liking

✩ — includes: hoshina soshiro x gn!reader. fluff. cw: uhm funky pacing bc this is just pure word vom LAWLZ. wc: 3583 (i did not expect for it to be this long i swear). reader works for operations and is considered as second best to okonogi (is also okonogi's assitant). ikaruga and okonogi cameo yipee! hoshina is bad at feelings ™. reblogs and feedback are much appreciated !!

to love is something you cannot name.

that’s a saying that stitched itself onto your brain because it just makes sense. loving someone has way too much depth, depending on the person who is the one lending out their heart and who they are giving it out to in the first place. it could be named as anything, depicted as anything, or interpreted as anything.

especially for you, who had witnessed, watched, read, and consumed all sorts of media that named love as numerous things. sometimes love is tragic, making two people feel so much just for them to get pulled away from each other when they were so close to running into each other’s arms. sometimes love is mirthful, having two people become the best versions of themselves around the person they love because they feel safe becoming vulnerable with the other. yet sometimes love is bittersweet, accepting the art of letting go as it was for the best—accepting that things weren’t just meant to be but not forgetting the emotions the person made you feel.

well, how were you supposed to know what love really is? a hopeless romantic is hopeless for a reason.

having a day off is quite rare, even for the employees of the operations department. the work was quite demanding, as any job involving the JAKDF was. but you still made time to relax and enjoy your rest from time to time, whether that was rewatching a good old romcom film from the 2000s or reading a new romance novel you decided to pick up.

it was normal for a hopeless romantic to dream. to fantasize. that maybe they could experience an extraordinary love like it is portrayed in films or described in songs. so naturally, as a hopeless romantic yourself, you weren’t any different. you just wanted to experience love—to be loved.

then again, liking someone does count as experiencing romance in a sense. admiring someone with traits the public doesn’t really notice is… rare. but that’s how it always went with you. though you wouldn’t really say that you actually acted upon your feelings, they're usually be gone once that person has stepped out of the current environment you’re in.

that’s how it was before.

vice captain hoshina was a respectable man. he is talented, and he sure as hell knows it. as the ton put it, you and the vice captain had a strange relationship—nobody really knows what to call you two. as the secondary leader of operations and okonogi’s assistant, it was only natural to be in the presence of the vice captain most of the time. but there’s just something different when it comes to how you two treated each other.

from flirtatious remarks and confusing gestures that you aren’t sure if you’re supposed to interpret as romantic, just what were you to the vice captain? you’ve observed long enough that he only does this to you. though you don’t really hate it. in fact, you like it that he’s only like that to you—but you weren’t supposed to like him, you swear! but honestly speaking, how could you not? you had plenty of reasons to like the vice captain in that way. you just pray that no one has really noticed it.

however, okonogi wasn’t stupid. she gets praised for her analytical skills for a reason and you wish she didn’t have to use those skills when it came to your romantic interest in the vice captain of all things. she promised to keep it a secret, though, and keeping secrets is a thing okonogi was really good at (to your surprise).

— — — — — — — —

the first time hoshina denied his feelings for you was when he overheard some rookies talking about you.

“(l/n) is such a blessing to the third division, don’t you think?” one said as the other hummed in agreement. “i know, right? they’re so nice! did you know that they helped me once? they gave me tips on what i should do to enhance my combat power for my fighting style; it was really helpful too!” the rookie beamed. hoshina had an unsettling feeling churning inside of him as he eavesdropped on the conversation. but he quickly shook it off, thinking that he probably ate something funny earlier.

but why hasn’t he received such treatment from you? you were closer to him than some rookies, right?

right?

wait, what the hell is wrong with me? hoshina thinks, snapping out of his earlier thoughts. he was not jealous of some rookies. those were just rookies, for christ’s sake! hoshina walks away, only to be greeted by the sight of you and ikaruga talking this time.

“thanks again for the film recommendation the other day, (l/n). i didn’t expect to enjoy it so much—you were completely right! it did suit my preferences,” he excitedly says. hoshina watches silently, observing everything in detail. and one thing he notices is that ikaruga is standing close to you—way too close than he preferred.

“really? i’m glad you liked them, ikaruga. feel free to ask for more film recs when you’re free.” you laughed at his enthusiasm. ikaruga had always been a fun person to converse with, in your opinion. and you two bonded over films! but it was really nothing more than that. “will definitely do!” he replies, giving you a two finger wave as he excuses himself.

he was definitely not jealous. why would he be jealous in the first place? you two were just friends.

and friends don’t get jealous like this.

— — — — — — — —

the second time was when he was undergoing recovery after the whole fiasco of the tachikawa base raid. everyone was exhausted. it was fortunate that the third division didn’t get any casualties during the incident; the majority of the troops were only injured for the most part. soshiro was counted among the severely injured troops but he doesn’t regret it one bit.

or so he thought.

soshiro wakes up slowly, blinking and squirting his eyes at the sudden brightness of the light above him. he felt a weight on the side of his bed when he tried to get up, as if something (or someone) was pressing down on the blanket. looking down, he wouldn’t mistake your hair for anyone else. he knew it was you with just a glance.

and there you were, sleeping softly on the side of hoshina soshiro’s bed. soshiro takes note of your appearance that he could see right now—which was really just your messy hair. he gets up, making sure that you don’t wake up. it is likely that the operation has not had much sleep up to this point, which is why you ended up sleeping in his hospital room of all places.

he feels bad. a hand slowly reaches out to your head, stroking it ever so gently. if he were to be honest, he was worried for he operations team during the attack. he recalls regularly checking in to see if things were okay on your end, and you kept reassuring him that everyone was unscathed. his other hand reaches out to his phone on his bedside, checking to see if he missed anything. he was unconscious until now, he thinks. and the text from okonogi just confirmed all of his suspicions.

you’re probably still unconscious by the time i sent this, but they’ve been there every day since you got admitted.

that’s all the message contained. soshiro glances at you again, a soft smile tugging on his lips. he doesn’t get why okonogi felt the need to send him that text, but the thought of you waiting for him to be conscious again made him feel… warm inside. but it all went away as he pulled back his hand from your head as you stirred awake. you raised your head, adjusting yourself to be in a more comfortable position as you rubbed your eyes with your knuckles.

shock was an understatement when you realized that he was finally awake.

“vice captain! i—sorry, i didn’t mean to sleep on your bed. wait, are you okay? does anything hurt?” he just stared at your eyes, trying to process something. shock was still present in your eyes, and relief was mixed in them too. you noticed him not answering anything you said. worried that he might be suffering from some aftereffects, you asked him again. “uhm… vice captain hoshina?”

he snaps out of it as soon as he hears his name. “sorry, i was just thinking. what were you saying?”

“er… is there something on my face? you’ve been staring at my face the whole time since i woke up…”

hoshina blinks once. twice. then thrice. before he focuses his gaze on something else, looking away from you. you held back a laugh at the sight of red tinting his ears as he apologized for his actions.

“i’m glad you’re alright, vice captain.”

hoshina freezes. he didn’t expect those words to have a bigger impact on him than they do now. but this is all natural, isn’t it? friends worry about each other. friends wish and hope that the other is okay.

yet why does he feel bitter when he labels this as something that friends—no, snap out of it. he thinks.

“i’m glad you’re alright too.”

— — — — — — — —

the third time was when you were sent to work to the first division of all places. he was completely against it, of course, but he doesn’t have any concrete reason to actually protest against it.

it was quite boring to not have you there. he didn’t really have anyone to disturb anymore. and the sudden change in the vice captain’s demeanor doesn’t go unnoticed by the platoon leaders. sure, he still had the same toothy grin on his lips, with his fang peeking out ever so often but deep down, you can’t really point out if it was genuine.

after all, hoshina soshiro was good at concealing his emotions and thoughts.

but then again, okonogi wasn’t stupid. it pains her to be the one who’s stuck between the vice captain and her subordinate. soshiro was the same as the night he didn’t get to neutralize kaiju no. 8 back then. shoulder slumped, arms crossed, a slight pout on his lips, and an expression that clearly stated he was pondering about something—or perhaps someone?

“you miss them, don’t you?” okonogi suddenly asks as she organizes the paperwork in front of her. working with hoshina when it came to paperwork wasn’t really new, except for this time because you would also be present in times like these. “miss who?” he decided to play dumb (or is the right term indenial?)

“please don’t make me spell it out for you, vice captain.” she replied, pushing up her glasses.

hoshina doesn’t reply, zoning out as he thinks about okonogi’s words. well, it wasn’t really false that your sudden absence had changed things in the vice captain’s usual routine. he doesn’t see you making a cup of coffee after he finishes training in the middle of the night. nor does he see you drowning yourself in research at the library when you’re not in the operations room, where soshiro would personally lend you a hand and provide his own insights on whatever you’re researching.

oh.

he does miss you.

but that’s just normal, right? friends miss each other. and friends tend to leave sometimes but they will always come back when the time is right. however, the head of operations for the third division didn’t have to be some kind of genius to put two and two together.

the vice captain has some sort of interest in you as well; he just hasn’t realized it himself.

— — — — — — — —

the day you returned from the first division was the day everything went back to normal for soshiro.

it was currently a quarter after one in the morning, and he had just finished his training. he ended up going more overtime than usual, but if he hadn't, he probably would’ve missed the open door to the library at this hour. and of course, being the ever so curious man he is, he takes a peek in.

and again, there you were. but this time, you were drowning yourself again in research. your hair was a bit messy, and the eyebags doesn’t go unnoticed by him. yet in spite of that, soshiro still found your appearance to be lovely. maybe it was just the fatigue from his training, or perhaps it’s the thought of you being so determined in your work that sparked such a thought in him.

regardless of what the reason actually was, soshiro found your appearance lovely despite it all.

“you should head to bed soon.” he says, approaching the table you were currently working on. you looked up, surprised to see him awake at this hour. but you put your focus back on your work, not even giving him a second glance—which surprised the vice captain. he reads on whatever you were working on, noticing that they were mostly reports of kaiju no. 9.

“researching on kaiju no. 9, i see. need a hand?”

“there’s just something off about him and i can’t put my finger on it. also thanks, but no thanks. i can handle this myself, vice captain.”

“it’s almost two in the morning, are you sure about that?”

he didn’t quite catch on to what your reply was, but he was positive that you just declined his offer either way. hoshina decides to pull up the chair beside you and grab the small stack of reports in front of you. he rotates the lamp a bit in his direction, but just enough to leave some light for you to read as well if you needed to.

you sigh at him. “vice captain, you really don’t have to—”

“but i want to. it’s the least i could do.”

truth be told, you really can’t bring yourself to be in the presence of the vice captain now. everything was just confusing. you were aware that the vice captain doesn’t really like paperwork in general (who even likes paperwork in the first place?) but you don’t get why he’s so insistent on helping you every time he finds you here.

you don’t get why he likes your company so much. you considered yourself to be plain, a bit mundane for someone to actually spend some time with. especially when your interests don’t really spark any others for the most part.

and while you may be a hopeless romantic, you weren’t foolish. even if you like the vice captain who’s currently making an effort to help you with your work, he’s just way out of your league. he’s too high to reach, and you were sure as hell that he would never actually look at you in that way. not now, not ever.

but why? why does a part of you keep saying that maybe he does? he wouldn’t do all of that if he didn’t actually look at you in that way, right? hope is a dangerous thing for someone who doesn’t know how to stop. for someone like you who refuses to give up on most occasions. it was stupid. foolish. naive.

not now, not ever would hoshina soshiro actually look at you that way.

“vice captain, please get some rest.”

“i could say the same to you.”

god, why is this man so stubborn? is he not tired from all the late night training he does? you thought, slowly getting frustrated. hoshina tells you his observations based on the reports in his hands and shares his hypothesis on the matter. he had some valid points and he’s lending a great hand at the moment. but frustration was just getting the best of you at the moment from your numerous trains of thought.

“the fact that he can adapt so easily is scary in itself. and the recent report of him breaking in the operations room in the first division states that—”

“why are you doing this?” you cut him off.

hoshina stares at you, dumbfounded at your question. he opens his mouth to answer, but no words actually come out of him. he chuckles bitterly in his mind. soshiro would like an answer to that question as well. but then it dawned on him. every flashed across his mind in seconds, and he finally realized it.

yet the result of that still scared him.

he was in love. hoshina soshiro is in love—with you nonetheless. the person he swore was just a friend. it took him quite a while to realize it, always being in denial that it was just normal for friends to act the way you two were. but he was in love. and that scared him. because what is he supposed to do when he finally realizes that you have consumed him? he never wanted this to happen, not in a million years.

but perhaps he was in love with you long before he started tripping along the lines of being friends and something more.

why are you doing this? your question echoed in his head. because i love you, he swallows back down his throat. he can’t say it. there’s no way things would work out. he could die any day and he’d rather not see you miserable because of his death. it would be better if you found someone else—but how ironic. he couldn’t really handle the thought of you being with someone else in the first place.

why are you doing this? your question echoes again. “because i love you.” he finally says, hesitant even. hesitant to know what you’re reaction was going to be. your eyes went wide at the sudden confession, and hoshina was certain that you wouldn’t believe him (well, he couldn’t really believe it either). “you’re kidding me,” you replied.

“i’m not.”

and surely enough, the look on the vice captain’s eyes said it all. he was dead serious. "i... why?” it's ten past two in the fucking morning, and you were too scared to accept that all of this was occurring right now, so you were afraid to ask. you were too scared to just randomly wake up and realize that maybe it was all a dream. too scared to believe that your feelings are being reciprocated.

“because you’re different—different to me, if that makes sense. it’s like you have this effect when it comes to me. food tastes better whenever i share a meal with you; my day just feels more peaceful whenever i get to see you’re doing fine, and i realized that maybe i haven’t actually looked at you like a friend or coworker for as long as i can remember; i was just too stupid to realize it earlier.” he avoids his gaze for a moment before looking at you again.

“i love you. i want you to look at me and love me too. we’ve come too far to turn back. i’m already too deep into you.”

you were speechless.

he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. it repeated like some sort of chant inside of your head as you processed everything. hoshina soshiro loves you back—who would’ve thought? you hadn’t realized that he was sitting so close to you. the tension was so thick, but you easily cut it down as you started with your response.

“you’re an amazing man, vice captain, and i truly cannot grasp how you could feel such feelings towards me, but i love you too.” you could see hoshina jump in his seat in shock at your confession, but you continued. “i love you in ways you have never been loved, for reasons that you may not have been told, for longer than you think you deserve and with more than you will ever know existed inside of me. yet i can’t help but still wonder… how? why? wait no, why was already answered—”

he chuckles at you. stopping you with your words. “what’s so funny?” you pouted at him. “it’s nothing. i just can’t believe that we’re seriously having this moment at two in the morning.”

“sorry, i think that may have been on my part. i kind of snapped there because i was just so… confused.”

“confused?”

“yeah, confused if we’ve crossed the line between friends or lovers without actually realizing it. crazy, right?”

hoshina moves a bit closer to you, making the distance between the two of you smaller than before. he puts his forehead against yours. “not really, but i look at you, and i just love you, and it terrifies me. it terrifies me what i would do for you. i’m in love but i’m also terrified—that’s what i think is crazy.”

“then let’s be terrified together,” you whispered to him.

a soft laugh leaves his lips this time. “i like the sound of that.” he whispers back.

he loves you.

and you love him back.

that’s all what matters.

love, in general, can make you feel all sorts of things. joy, confusion, anger, fear, and many more. it can also make you do all sorts of things. it can make you do things you never really imagined doing for or with someone in the first place. it tends to be irrational—ridiculous, even. but the thought of doing all of it for the person you care most about? you finally realized that’s simply what love is all about for you.

to love is something you truly cannot name.

#( writings )#kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 #kn8 x reader #kn8 #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina x reader #soshiro hoshina #x reader #IM SO INSANE LIKE WDYM I WROTE FOR HIM AGAIN #ILL WRITE FOR MY OTHER REQUESTS I SWEAR JUST GIVE ME SOME MORE TIME #im having troubles w an ichikawa req i have uhhh but its fine ik what will happen i just dont know how to put it into words yk !!!!#but ill post that one soon along w my narumi piece too (hopefully)

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wordpress-blaze-236166112 · 18 minutes ago

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Human Equity: The Polymath Premium

For a few years, I have trusted a young man. He screams into the void on X, formerly known as Twitter. The Komrade Kommander is quite a character. His thoughts are some of the rawest, most profound things I’ve read on social media. As well as laughed hysterically at his quick wit. I adore him, even though we have never met. I think this is common for millennials. To connect across space and time. Through him, I’ve found and subscribed to the work of incredible minds like Dr. Julie Gurner. Just to name a favorite. There’s a value in these connections; how to give it a proper valuation is hard to say. Every relationship has a cost. Ask your friend with a truck if you don’t know what I mean. If I were to place a value on these connections, I would not be capable of them. I could not afford the ones I have already had. Even at the rate our society goes into debt, there’s not enough money to justify human capital. All of this to get my bias out there before continuing.

I am more of an early adopter of AI. I understand how it will cause great disruption. It will bring pain to humans made obsolete by its automation. Keep in mind there were strikes at farm equipment, machinery, even the earliest projectors. They were all going to 'take our jobs.' But we still have farmers, machinists, engineers, and teachers. You can't replace human equity. There's no substitute for our spirit. There is no need to fear the future, even though there are oligarchs and autocrats. We do need to be aware of our current situation.

Human Equity is the new premium in a world of AI.

Adaptive Authenticity: The New Capital

There’s no doubt the world is rapidly terraforming into something different. Automation, AI, and a borderless digital ethos propel this change. The individual struggles to navigate a fourth industrial revolution. There is opportunity awaiting us. We are entering an era where human authenticity becomes both a strategy and currency. This currency has yet to be counted.

My mentor always reminds me of a reality. The answer to 9/10 questions is money. It even applies to 999/1000 questions.

This is because in a fickle and fiat system, money is essentially worthless. Not hard, tested, and proven. Compound our devaluation with capital assets which eventually depreciate or are dismissed by market disruption.

If you’re the innovator capturing the market, this is good.

But if you’re sauntering your way to retirement, you may not reach it.

There is, of course, one answer that is more powerful, more important, more meaningful. But that, in part, is due to its rarity in the purest of forms. If money was scarce and as hard as love, the world would be better off. -A concerned Capitalist.

This is to say, if AI can replace you, it will. Doesn’t matter if we refrain from using, regulate, and resist adopting, or carefully respect the powerful thing that it is. We will employ it and embrace its existence. That debate was over before it started. For each of us, it may be time to get curious instead of staying so comfortable.

I was reminded of this during a podcast recently about AI. A topic which was close to home to the owner and host. Just weeks before, I was asking our IT which tasks AI can handle from my many responsibilities. I was curious about what it could do for me and others. The host of this podcast works as a copywriter and brand strategist. So, you can see how AI isn’t as exciting for her. But I think she’s already on track to keep thriving. As she hit the nail on the head when she mentioned adaptability. That’s the secret sauce of sustainably, no matter what industry you are in. I’ve found those who keep finding ways to make progress. They consistently bring value. These are the ones who survive the storms.

Another hard truth is we aren’t paid for our time, even if that’s what it costs us. It’s not the experience, with its diminishing returns, thanks again to time. No, we are paid for the value we bring to the marketplace. But Lindsay mentioned something that stuck out. "If we are known by name and have brand loyalty, we are unstoppable."

I have always had general awareness concerning the importance of ‘name’ as the ancients understood it. Name was who you were. Your attributes, your family, and even the actions of the past. Reputation is sacred; that’s why integrity is so important for the individual and the organization. Honesty and proximity are mutually inclusive to true integrity. It’s behaviorally found in that human element. One formed through thousands of years of our tribe that trust is built on. Here is our ticket to safety.

The Authentic Advantage: Valuing the Versatile

The modern era’s experience is largely fabricated. We each have an algorithmic feed that filters the information we consume. Additionally, we must sift through synthetic personas and connections. You can easily find brand management posts and articles from nearly a decade ago advocating for authenticity in professional settings. Some I’ve recently rediscovered discuss how authenticity directly leads to higher ratings, making it a powerful marketing strategy. When authenticity transcends tribalism, it encompasses values and core beliefs. It then becomes a willingness to pay more, which is highly valuable.

The next generation will need to be more life literate than my millennial generation. We did a good job keeping the childhood curiosity that connects us all. Those who come after will need to be cross-domain fluent. People who are versed in pivoting as only a polymath can.

The rise of those able to connect the dots that are seemingly unrelated has already begun. This world has been busy while we slept. We struggle to understand all the interconnected systems and communities. A global issue. There’s a great need for those who can holistically diagnose and solve problems before the scaffolding crashes down around us.

The new systems will no longer wait around for us to board. In this landscape of automation, curated identities, and echo chambers, only the polymath’s unique voice offers clarity and credibility.

There’s a premium on human equity but only for the adaptable, authentic individual. It is not knowing everything. But rather a willingness to learn anything that matters most.

Source: Human Equity: The Polymath Premium

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mysterybooks-world · 1 year ago

Text

to @lezadoodles

You know what, your idea is Almost similar to my idea.

readmore in a tag

Do you know what part made me laugh the most

(So they separately decided to woo Vox )

This part made me laugh a lot

the word woo is funny

I ask @lezadoodles

Okay, quick question, where can I read this story?

I think of writing it, so if I'll do it, I'll post it on my ao3 profile (lezascribbles)

(lezadoodles) has not written The story yet

I have ideas, scenes, and suggestions And some songs fit the scenes

For example, here is how the story begins

Vox walked angrily to his room. Wondering why he's angry?

the reason is valentino Surprise Surprise. Vox was really looking forward to this day. vox waited in a park. he wait and wait Hours,

so vox Text valentino

Vox: hey Val Where are you

Val: hey Voxxy, I'm in my new club with my worker

Vox: Did you have anything important today?

Val: No, I don't have anything important, just the club.

Why are you asking

Vox: Oh, nothing. I just want you to make sure that you are doing your work. I have enough work for me and I do not want you to throw your work papers at me like last time.

It was a lie

Val: Don't worry dear Angel cake here helps with work as usual.

Val: Another thing: I don't think I will return to the tower. I will be at the Club.

Val: I'll see you later Voxxy XOXOXO

Vox: you too

vox couldn't believe what happened is still holding his phone And now Vox found himself on his bed. Then he looked at Picture frame on Bedside table. The pictures were of him with his old head and Val browsing and smiling in front of the camera. vox had been looking forward to this day all week. They both agree the day will be A romantic date. No Business & No Velvette No Angel. Just the two of them, vox even made plans for the day like going to their favorite places and going to a fancy restaurant. But valentino forgot their special day. And things get worse When he checked posts on Voxtagram. He saw photo of valentino with Angel Dust. Vox was really angry but then he sigh. Vox stood up and walked to his closet, He started searching among the old boxes for something. Vox took out an old picture book from a box and started checking the pictures. Some pictures of him and Valentino & Velvet, while some pictures of his business and partners in business, some pictures of investors, and Some pictures of events. Finally got to the first pictures These were pictures of when he had his own small studio and television shop. And some pictures with with.. with.. alastor

Vox remembers all these days before he became the CEO of VoxTek And before he met Valentino. How were things great with him and Alastor? He remembers the old times They always drank alcohol on Fridays They were both drunk, leaning on each other, singing and dancing. And they always They change the joke With each other And that times Alastor is cooking for him. Vox remembers trying to cook jambalaya for Alastor. The food was a little burnt, but Alastor Just hummed and then took a bite From the food that Vox cooked, He said that it tasted good and was not bad if it was a little burnt. Vox was happy with his comment, But next time, don't make too much of a mess in the kitchen. He looked at the messy kitchen and looked at Alastor with his hand on his neck with an embarrassed smile Then they burst out laughing. Vox smiles sadly as he remembers all the happy times and how everything was simple and easy. He asks himself what he did wrong with Alastor that made them enemies. His train of thought was interrupted by something licking his face. Vox looked at Vark, his pet shark cuddling and nuzzling him. he smiled and thanked boy, I needed this. You know what, I think my friend was right. Vark tilted his head to the side as he looked at his dad curiously. When I was still alive I had a close friend, vox told the story

(Important information)from ME: When you see (frind name)

You guys can choose vox's friend

can be OC Character or y/n The reader is a friend of vox

you guys Choose the gender (him/he)(her/she)(they/them)(doesn't matter)

It is your choice whether (frind name) are in heaven or hell.

vox remembers his teenage days when he was alive

he was with (frind name) drinking bubble tea They talk as usual but when vox told (frind name) about his crush His friend looked at him in a strange way and asked if there was a problem His friend shook They head and said that They only remembered some of their experiences with a relationship. Tell him about their first relationship with (boyfriend/Girlfriend) How wonderful their relationship was And they were both close But happiness does not last long because their (boyfriend/Girlfriend) brokeup Their relationship with them And tell vox how difficult it was for them at these times. And tell him about their relationship another (boyfriend/Girlfriend) How romantic and loving their relationship was however One day it was like someone flipped a switch.I no longer see love in their eyes, as if they lost their love in me. We don't go out on dates as often as before. They are always busy with their friends. And sometimes they ask for some favors from me Sometimes I see them making eye contact with someone else When I talked to them about this simply, they said they were just joking.

How many times have I given them too many chances? Until I had enough, I brokeup With (boyfriend/Girlfriend) They said they were angry and told me that I couldn't find someone like them. I didn't care however I ask myself if I was really the problem and not them. I continued to think a lot in the past few days about my current relationship and my old relationships. And on the last day. I left my house early at five in the morning, And I kept walking and walking and walking and don't ask where I'm going, even though I don't know where I'm going either. Until I reached a cliff and looked at a city & I look up to the sunrise

And guess what I did. I screamed at the top of my lungs. I don't know if anyone heard or saw me and They wonder who this crazy person is.

When I finished screaming, I felt relieved. It's like I'm getting everything bad out of myself. I have to treat all my previous relationships as life experiences. I shouldn't be sad and I should face my memories. And I learn to accept reality. And that what I did , I moved on From my relationship. On this day, I felt that my life had become much better. I should not be bothered by the past, but I should enjoy my life.

And guess what, about eight a week. my ex came to ask for my forgiveness and give them another chance. But I said no, but they tried to win me over until they gave up. My words may be harsh, but when I see the expression on their faces Sadness, anger, regret, and They bend their knee for me I felt some victory.

So when I say Love is a waste of time.

I don't mean stop loving your family or friends. but to a love relationship. If you feel ready to be in a new relationship, then this is your decision and Don't rush into things Take all your time.

song P!nk - Try

This is what happened on that day Vark. I think it's time to move on But first. vox stood up and mute Himself and started screaming loudly But without a sound While Vark looks at him surprised. When he stopped screaming, he looked at Vark and vox was moving his mouth, but no sound came out. he Turn mute off. My friend was right When they said when screaming really helps get rid of bad things in myself.

or Here's another opening scene

(friend name) In hell

vox friend is Shop or store owners

vox friend their power like Overlord level Or more if you want them. But they didn't want this position as Overlord So keep their presence secret. They live in their store or shop The only person who knows about them is vox, their best friend.

Important information from me: The shop or store can be anything for example Book café, restaurant, toys store, Pet shop, Tailor shop or clothing store, Pharmacy store, Book store, Comic book store, Plant shop, Furniture shop. Jazz club. Music store, Jewelry store, Antica store

Remember when you choose the store or Shop it will play with the events of the story.

Vox went to visit his friend store or Shop And tell them how Valentino forgot their important day. And tell them about how he's just talking about Angel dust do that or Angel dust this.Their friend told how Alastor had returned after seven years.(friend name) listened to his friend patiently until he calmed down. then (friend name) will say You know what Vox I advised you to Move on in your life So what if Valentino doesn't love you like he used to? Did Val think about your opinion or feelings?, I'm telling you, this is a failed relationship. What's the point if you break up With him And then in the following week you return to him? End matters now and forever with him. My advice: focus on your mental and physical health. As for Alastor You said it yourself or sing Stop giving him the time of day, don't listen to a word he'd say. Don't you see that he enjoys playing with your feelings? He just sees you as other entertainment like everyone else. Aren't you tired of your past and present now? (friend name) sing (Shawn Mendes - Treat You Better) There is no romance here They are just friends.

Now here is Valentino and Alastor's reaction

Valentino

At first, he did not take the matter seriously When Vox told him I'm breaking up with you permanent, He thought vox was just angry But notice the changes in their relationship. He no longer let him touch him or do anything with sex. Val thinks Vox is playing someone who is hard to get. He is confident that vox will come back to him So Val just wait for him A day became days, days became weeks, and weeks became months. Valentino final realized that He really lost Vox. At first he told himself he didn't care about vox. Oh, who am I fooling? I need to win his love again And this is what Val did But of course vox rejects him every time. And when he noticed Alastor trying to take vox from him. He will say l refuse to lose to a stupid furry deer.

Alastor He only noticed a little At first he notice that Vox is no longer watching him Or appears on television. He doesn't see his little Fly devices. At first he didn't care about it and Enjoy some peace and quiet. Days passed And Vox did not appear to him yet. Alastor felt curious and wonders where he is So he Teleport To Vox office. Vox was surprised When Alastor came to him. He asked him what he was doing here in his office. Alastor tried to tease Vox, He said he was just curious why you weren't watching him anymore. Vox interrupted him by simply saying the show is was over. Alastor is confused. Al asked what he meant by these words. I no longer your rival. What. You heard me, What's wrong with you dear? Sad because I left you. Alastor would be like laughs and says That he doesn't care about him And he leaves. Time passed and Alastor was alone in his room Checking out an old photo book. He remembers his old days with Vox. and That is true Al had never been close to anyone. When he first met TV demon, He thought he was just an new entertainment For his enjoyment. But when he started spending time with him, He seemed to like Vox behaviour. And he allowed him to touch him. Alastor remembers the times when he was drunk with Vox And in the morning Alastor finds himself asleep on his couch, cuddling with a sleeping vox. He remembers cooking together. He still remembers his laughter Vox had two laughs one for the show And the second his real laugh. oh how much he adored Vox laugh Like music to his ear. Alastor started to feel a strange feeling. He doesn't want to dmit it But he needs Vox. True, their relationship is not the same as before, but he may try to bring it back by being his friend or Even more then friend. So Alastor started trying to win Vox affection again. And when he noticed Valentino trying to take his Vox from him, he would say. I will broadcast his screams on my radio If he doesn't stay away from MY VOX.

hey Remember when I told you about choosing a shop or store will play a role in the story events

Here are some ideas, for example

If you choose the pharmacy store. ( frind name) It may help treat injured people or If You chose a pet store. (frind name) He will suggest to Vox that he get a pet and they know the perfect animal for him.

A: (frind name) Give Vox a shark puppy It will be known later as vark or B: (frind name) Give Vox a adult shark It will be known later as vark.

Yes I know, I'm a genius.

As for Angel Dust

You can imagine Val was no longer focused on him. he Even gave a Angel Vacation from work for some time. To prove to Vox that he is not obsessed with an angel Dust.

Angel Dust talks to Husk How he owes for Vox And he wishes To Vox continue to reject Val or better yet Valentino release him from the contract to proves his love for Vox.

I can imagine Val asking Angel for advice

For example, Valentino sends angel to Vox To spy on him

Vox knows this And he talks to Angel Dust And they became friends. Because they have something in common and that is They hate Valentino. So Vox protects Angel from Val. like that song

[ANIMATIC] 'Valentino' (Angel + Vox Cover Ver.)

And here's the funny part

I can imagine Valentino asking Angel Dust to spy on Alastor while Alastor asking Angel Dust to spy on Valentino.

Poor angel is in the middle of a love war

Or he could turn this love war to his advantage He thinks about making Alastor kill Valentino for him

As for Velvette

Velvette don't want anything to do with them BUT I can imagine her take advantage From this situation. When Valentino asked her what was wrong with his relationship with Vox. Velvette will say, “You want your Flat-faced Prince to come back to you.” Control your anger And it doesn't cause problems And stop destroying workers and our stuff.

I imagine Alastor asking Charlie or Vaggie for advice for a friend About romance or a love relationship.

Or he talk to Rosie About a friend of his And his relationship with this person. And he asks for advice from him

And when he means a friend, he means himself and Vox

But of course Rosie finds out what he means From his words But she doesn't point it out and say Ok then tell your friend this And she tells him advice about a love relationship.

Here are some songs that suit the story scenes

Vox sing to Valentino Victoria Justice Sings "Beggin' On Your Knees" Blackbear - Do Re Mi Jax - Cinderella Snapped Leah Kate - 10 Things I Hate About You Taylor Swift - We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together Cher Lloyd - None Of My Business Netta Barzilai- Toy

Vox sing to Alastor Victorious Karaoke | Freak the Freak Out SonReal - Can I Get A Witness (Official) Bebe Rexha - I'm A Mess Kelly Clarkson - Stronger

Vox sing Both Valentino and Alastor Demi Lovato - Really Don't Care ft Elizabeth Gillies and Victoria Justice - Take A Hint Marshmello & Anne-Marie - FRIENDS (Lyric Video) Vicetone ft. Kat Nestel - Nothing Stopping Me Mabel - Don't Call Me Up Meghan Trainor - No (Lyrics) Untouchable Conor Maynard - R U Crazy Katy Perry - Part Of Me Zedd & Kehlani - Good Thing Karmin - Acapella Demi Lovato – Sorry Not Sorry

Valentino sing to Vox Lady Gaga - Bad Romance Hooked - Why Don't We

Alastor sing to Vox One Direction - What Makes You Beautiful Trust Fund Baby - Why Don't We

Valentino and Alastor sing to Vox NEFFEX - Rumors Panicland- Bad Word (Lyrics Word) The Vamps - Just My Type

So I will ask you @lezadoodles and you Guys, what do you think of my idea?

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lupinqs · 5 months ago

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CHAPTER TEN ━━ The Introduction

❀ ━ pairing: paige bueckers x oc (jo jacobson)

❀ ━ word count: 5.9K

❀ ━ warnings: allusions to sex, alcohol consumption

❀ ━ links: my masterlist, nobody gets me masterlist

❀ ━ author’s note: hehe

IT’S FRIDAY, December 2nd, and UConn just annihilated Providence. Jo played out of her mind, as she always does. Of course, Paige is proud. Of course she is. But both her performance and the team win can’t really make this might feel like a victory for Paige to bask in.

Currently, she’s standing in Nika’s kitchen, staring down at the cup full of Everclear in her hand. The liquid inside is dangerous, too strong for her, and yet she’s already downed three or four shots. She doesn’t even like it. In fact, she usually avoids this shit like the plague. But tonight, it’s the only thing she can think of to numb her, the only thing that might be able to quiet the anxious, suffocating storm inside her chest.

It’s almost laughable, really, how predictable she is. How every time Jo does something—breathes, laughs, smiles—Paige feels like she’s suffocating just a little more. It’s insane. They’re best friends. They’ve been living together since May. She’s seen every side of Jo—the silly, the serious, the completely ridiculous.

Well, every side except the one she shares with Asher.

Because Paige still hasn’t met him.

She’s seen all the pictures, of course—the one’s on Jo’s Instagram, the one that Jo has as her lock screen, the one framed in Jo’s family’s house back in Boston, the one perched on Jo’s desk in their apartment. She hears about him a God awful lot, too. She’s seen Jo text him, call him. She’s listened to Jo gush about him and their future while Paige is just… there. Watching Listening. Seeing Jo get lost in that perfect, fairytale love that Paige will never be a part of.

The rest of the team, on the other hand, have already met the damn boy. Back in October, while Paige was in LA rehabbing, he’d come up to visit Jo, and they’d met him. And, of course, they all informed Paige of how kind and charming and absolutely perfect for Jo he was.

And, tonight, it seems that Paige has finally met her dues. Because he’s coming to Ted’s with Jo, to hang out with the team.

Okay, it’s not that Paige wants to hate Asher. He hasn’t done anything to her, not really. She just doesn’t want to see it. Doesn’t want to see the joy and adoration in Jo’s eyes when she’s with him. Doesn’t want to see her look at someone else the way she’ll never look at Paige.

That’s why she’s standing here in Nika’s kitchen, holding the cup of Everclear like it’s a lifeline. She’s downed drink after drink, trying to numb herself before the night really starts. She needs something to take the edge off. Anything to make the world feel a little less sharp, a little less raw.

So, Paige reaches for the bottle again, pouring herself another cup, her hand unsteady from the alcohol already coursing through her veins. She doesn’t even care that she’s probably about to get way too drunk to function. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Not when she’s about to experience first-hand the perfect, romcom, movie-like romance of Jo and Asher.

As Paige pours the drink, she doesn’t even hear Caroline approach. It’s not until the sophomore’s hand wraps around her wrist that Paige jerks back, spilling some of the alcohol across the counter. “Bro!” she exclaims, frustration creeping into her voice as she whips her head to glare at Caroline. “What the hell?”

Caroline narrows her eyes, and the look she gives Paige is one of irritation, not amusement. “What are you doing?” she demands, voice tight. “You’re gonna be wasted before we even get to Ted’s. Besides, you don’t even like this shit!” She gestures to the bottle of Everclear in Paige’s hand, her gaze pointed.

Paige rolls her eyes. “Nah, don’t do that with me, Carol,” she says, her voice flat and cold, the words rolling off her tongue like venom. “I’m older than you. If you wanna mother someone, go find the freshmen.”

Caroline doesn’t flinch at Paige’s outburst. Instead, she just rolls her eyes back, her expression practically dripping with exasperation. Then, with one swift motion, she gives Paige a quick shove on the shoulder, a mockery of affection that’s meant to get her attention but only serves to make Paige more frustrated. “No,” Caroline says, her tone laced with that same tired edge. “I’m gonna mother because clearly you need it!”

The words land like a slap, stinging more than Paige expects. Yes, she knows she’s not being entirely responsible, but also—when has she been? It’s sort of in her nature to be irresponsible, so she’s not sure how this is any different. But is is. And she doesn’t even know why.

There’s a long pause. Too long. It stretches between them like a chasm, and Paige can feel the moment hanging in the air like it’s about to swallow her whole. She thinks Caroline might be done. She thinks the conversation might be over.

But it’s not. Caroline is not finished.

“Look,” the brunette says, her voice gentler now, but still firm. “I know you’re, like, totally in love with Jo and all, but please, Paige, get yourself together.”

Almost instantly, Paige stills. It’s as if the entire world falls silent in an instant. The sound of her pulse fills her ears, louder than anything else. Her mind goes blank for a moment, and then the words slowly filter through. Caroline knows. Paige has been so careful recently to pretend, pretend, pretend. But Caroline’s still seen through it.

Fuck.

“Wha—? How did you know that?” Paige’s voice comes out high-pitched, more frantic than she wants it to be. She feels like she’s suffocating, like she’s about to drown in the truth that’s just been laid bare. “Did Azzi tell you? Aubrey?” The thought of anyone else but the two of them knowing, of anyone else seeing what she’s been trying to hide, is bad. It’s what Paige imagines standing in front of a crowded room, naked, while everyone stares at her would feel like.

Caroline gives her a look. “No, dumbass,” she deadpans. “I figured it out myself. You’re not very subtle.”

As if it were possible, Paige’s stomach seems to drop even more at the simplicity of it all. Because Caroline’s right, just as Aubrey and Azzi both had been. Paige isn’t subtle. She never has been. The way she looks at Jo, the way her face burns every time Jo smiles at her, the way she seems to track everything Jo doesn’t without even meaning to—none of it is subtle.

She groans, a frustrated sound that escapes her before she can stop it. She leans forward, her palms flat against the counter as she rests her forehead against the cool surface. She’s so tired. Tired of pretending, tired of fighting the feeling that never goes away. And now, with Caroline’s words hanging before her, she knows it’s probably only a matter of time before Jo figured it out, too. Before Jo realizes what Paige has been hiding, and everything goes to shit. Jesus Christ, she’s gonna have to transfer.

Caroline doesn’t let the silence linger for too long, though. “Okay, yeah,” she says, her voice softening a little. “I know it sucks. I get it.” She takes a deep breath, and Paige can hear the sympathy in her voice, the understanding. “And I’m sorry you have to see Jo with Asher while you like her. But, please, get yourself together. Because she’s so excited for you to meet him, and if you’re drunk off your mind when you do, you’re probably just gonna embarrass yourself and her. Do you wanna do that?”

Caroline’s right. Of course she is. Paige can imagine herself meeting Asher, entirely wasted, and saying some stupid shit that would have him grimacing at her and Jo flushing with embarrassment over the fact that this drunk girl before them is supposed to be her best friend. It would be wrong and selfish to do that. But it’s gonna be so hard to do it and act normal. She knows she swore she would take Jo in whatever way she’ll give her—and she still stands by that—but that doesn’t mean she has any desire to meet her boyfriend. Because she just doesn’t. She’s truly not sure she can.

She doesn’t respond right away. Instead, she just stays there, head pressed against the counter, trying to will sway the stupid, hot tears that begin to form in her eyes. She can’t cry here. It’s fucking stupid.

Eventually, after blinking the tears away, Paige begrudgingly shakes her head. “No,” she mutters under her breath, the words barely audible. “I don’t wanna do that.”

Caroline pats her on the back. “That’s what I thought.”

PAIGE LISTENS. She’s being good. She’s only slightly tipsy, every so often taking sips of her Dirty Shirley. She’s doing her best to integrate herself into the team’s conversation around her, despite her uncharacteristic anxiousness. She tries to will her gaze to stop flicking toward the door. It doesn’t work; her mind is already rehearsing every possible scenario when Jo and Asher walk in.

“Aye, JoJo just said they should be here any minute!” Ice says loudly, reading a text off her phone. The rest of the team, half-fueled by the alcohol running through their bloodstream, lets out a few cheers.

Azzi, who’s across from Paige and who Paige can tell is almost entirely sober, meets her eyes. She title her head, giving her a look as if to say you good? The blonde gives her a tight nod. She will be good. She’s gonna keep it together, it’ll be fine. It’s just one night, one introduction. After that, she can pretend none of it matters. She doesn’t need to be anywhere near Asher.

But even as she tells herself that, her pulse begins to quicken, the seconds ticking by too slowly as she waits for the pair to walk through that door. And, when they finally do, it’s not the way she thought it would be. She expected her heart to sink, her breath to catch, but what happens instead is worse. Her skin tingles, and her chest feels too tight, like her ribs are being squeezed, her lungs struggling for air. Jo walks in first, her laugh ringing out across the bar like it’s some beautiful melody that Paige can’t stop hearing. And then there’s Asher, in the flesh, right behind her. His arm is casually draped over Jo’s shoulder, and the two of them look so natural, so right together that it makes Paige feel like she’s been hit with a sucker punch to the gut.

They’re happy. It’s blatantly obvious in the way they move together, the way Asher’s hand rests lightly on Jo’s shoulder, the way they share that easy, carefree smile, as if nothing in the world could ruin this moment for them. Paige’s vision sharpens, the edge of the bar blurring as the urge to shrink away into herself rises up like an overwhelming tide. She wants to leave, to disappear, to drink so much she blacks out and dies.

But she doesn’t. Obviously.

Jo and Asher head straight toward the team, where they stand in the back corner. Paige forces herself to appear nonchalant like always, her back pressed against the bar wall, her fingers gripping the edge of her drink. The others begin to greet the pair quickly, all laughing and chatting with him so easily and fast it almost gives Paige whiplash. Within a minute, he already fits in so seamlessly—and Paige hates if. She hates the way he’s making them all laugh, the way he’s charming without even trying, the way everyone seems to like him so easily. Things would be so much easier for Paige if he was just some shitty douchebag boy.

But then Jo’s eyes find hers, that smile spreading across her face, and all thoughts of the boy flee for a short moment. It’s that smile only for her, only for Paige. She’s reserved it.

Paige feels her heart leap, an automatic reaction that she can’t stop, especially with alcohol in her system. She doesn’t know if Jo can see it, the way her face softens at the sight of her, but Paige knows her smile is already in place, even if it feels a little strained, like her cheeks might crack under the pressure.

Paige watches as Jo grabs onto Asher’s wrist, pulling him so they’re both face to face with Paige. “Paige! This is Asher!” she exclaims excitedly, and it’s adorable, it really is, the way her doe eyes shine at Paige, twinkling.

With some effort, the blonde forces her gaze from Jo to the boy beside her. “Hey, bro,” Paige says, her voice coming out a little higher than she intended, but she doesn’t let it show. She forces the words out, the greeting she’s practiced a thousand times too many.

“Nice to meet you,” she adds. It’s a lie. Of course.

Asher nods, his hand extending to shake hers. It makes everything inside Paige write. He’s not just some asshole she can dismiss; he’s the guy who makes Jo happy. And in the face of that, what does Paige have to offer? Absolutely nothing.

“Yeah, you too,” Asher replies, his smile wide, genuine. Fuck, he really is likable. It makes everything worse. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Stupidly, Paige can feel her heart skip a beat. He’s heard about her. Jo’s talked about her. The thought of it makes her skin flush, and she glances at Jo, who’s standing just a little too close to Asher, her eyes sparkling. There’s a faint blush on her cheeks, just enough for Paige to notice.

Hm.

Jo’s talked about her. Jo’s talked about her. It’s an absurdly stupid thing to obsess over, because, yes, it would only make sense that Jo has talked about her. They’re roommates, for God’s sakes.

But then, just as quickly, it all comes rushing back—the overwhelming knowledge that it just doesn’t matter. Because Jo has Asher.

Paige’s hand in tightens slightly around her drink, and she forces her smile to stay in place. “I bet,” she says, before gesturing to Jo. “She’s a yapper.”

Asher’s grin widens, and he nods in agreement. He glances down at Jo for a moment, and Paige can see the faint sparkle in his own eyes. It makes her sick. “Yeah, she is,” he chuckles. Of course he would know that. He knows everything. Certainly more than Paige (except how to make a girl cum—though, at this point, she supposes it can’t even apply to the situation). But he’s been there. For everything. Since the fucking sandbox days. It’s not something Paige can even remotely compete with.

She needs another drink.

JO SITS awkwardly in the booth at Ted’s, wedged between Asher and Paige. It’s not even that the space is tight—there’s room enough for the three of them, probably room for one more—but the proximity feels off, almost claustrophobic. She shifts in her seat, feeling the edge of Asher’s knee against hers, and Paige’s shoulder brushing lightly against her own. All of it—the heat from their bodies, the weight of their presence—is somehow making her feel small, like there’s no space for her in this conversation.

Asher, ever the extrovert, is holding court with Paige, talking on and on about college football rankings and how Penn State (where he goes to school) is sure to win their bowl game. Jo tries to listen and engage, but the topic doesn’t interest her. Basketball is far superior to football. But she still follows along, because Asher’s so into it, so excited to share his thoughts, and Paige—who, as usual, is completely unfazed by the world around her—responds with that ease that always leaves Jo wanting more.

Jo feels herself sinking lower in the booth, staring at her drink. It’s a cranberry vodka, something that feels sweet on her tongue. She takes another sip—maybe too quickly—and feels the alcohol warm her from the inside out. It helps dull the growing discomfort, but it doesn’t erase it. The tightness in her chest persists, a strange, insistent thing that makes her shift again, trying to find a way to make herself comfortable.

She doesn’t know why she feels this way. She should be happy. She should be enjoying this. After all, she’s the one who was so eager to introduce Asher and Paige, so excited to see her favorite people meet and get along. So why does it feel… wrong now? Why does it feel like she doesn’t belong?

It’s not jealousy. No, not even close. She’s fine with Asher and Paige talking. She’s good with it. She wants them to like each other. She’s been waiting for this, hoping for it. But still… the weight of their conversation feels like it’s too much for her to hear, even if she can’t articulate why. It’s the way they’re so at ease with each other, like they’ve known each other for years, and Jo feels like she’s just a spectator, stuck in the middle. Paige is talking about football like she’s always been passionate about it, and Jo wonders if she even really cares or if she’s just being her usual, charismatic self, making everyone around her feel like they’re the most important person in the room.

She doesn’t know why this feels so weird, so odd. It’s almost as if the booth is too small for the three of them, like either Asher of Paige needs to move out of it so Jo can finally breathe again. She just doesn’t get it.

Asher keeps talking, oblivious to the tension knotting in Jo’s stomach. She can tell he’s enjoying himself, that he’s happy to be here, happy to be connecting with Paige. He’s wanted to ever since he’s realized how close she and Jo are, not to mention the fact that he’s a big fan of Paige’s game—which, valid. And Paige, of course, is just as nonchalant as always. She’s good at this—at making people feel seen and heard, like she’s the only person in the room that matters.

Jo tries to keep her smile in place, but she knows it’s not quite reaching her eyes. Every time Paige laughs, it hits something inside her she can’t explain, some quiet ache. Every time Asher leans in closer to Paige, every time they lock eyes, Jo feels a small, gnawing discomfort in the pit of her stomach. Not jealousy, just… something else. Something she doesn’t want to name.

Paige’s voice cuts through her thoughts, and Jo snaps back to the moment. “I’mma go get another Shirley,” the blonde says easily, pushing herself up from the booth. Jo watches her walk away, feeling a strange sense of relief mixed with the sudden urge to grab Paige’s hand and pull her right back. So weird.

Asher’s voice suddenly cuts through the murmur of chatter, causing Jo’s head to snap toward him. He’s looking at her now, his brow furrowed in that way he gets when he’s concerned. “Babe, you good? You been kinda, like… quiet?”

Jo forces a smile, the expression coming easy enough but feeling unnatural on her lips. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and she can feel it, can feel the way he’s watching her, sensing something is off. Why am I being like this? She doesn’t know.

“Yeah, let’s go dance,” she says, the words sounding too breezy. Asher doesn’t seem to notice, though, his smile brightening. He takes her hand in his, tugging her up from the booth.

They make their way to the dance floor, and Jo feels the heat of the crowd, the heavy bass that vibrates in her chest. She tries to lose herself in it, tries to let the rhythm take over. Asher’s hands find her waist, guiding her gently, pulling her closer as they fall into the music. She moves with him, tries to feel the warmth of his body, the comfort of being with him. It’s weird, though, because the steps feel a little too quick, like she’s trying to make her body fit the rhythm of something that feels off.

Her gaze drifts without meaning to. It’s not even something she consciously does, it just happens, as her eyes scan the room, taking in the crowd of people. And then, they land at the bar.

Paige is there, talking with someone Jo doesn’t recognize at first. But when she squints her eyes, trying to make sense of the redhead leaning over the counter, she realizes it’s Celeste. She watches, captivated for reasons she doesn’t understand, as Celeste leans in closer to Paige, her fingers brushing along Paige’s arm. Jo doesn’t really like that. She should stop watching.

But she doesn’t. And the longer she stares, the more that strange feelings gnaws at her. She can’t tear her gaze away, even though she tries. It’s weird and wrong, Jo knows, watching her best friend cook up her nightly fuck—because, surely, that’s what this is.

And then, just as if she’s been caught, Paige’s eyes meet here. Jo feels her heart skip a beat. Her cheeks instantly flush, her gaze jerking away from Paige’s with an awkwardness she doesn’t understand.

Bur when she dares to glance back, she finds Paige still looking at her, her gaze steady, unwavering. There’s something about the way Paige is staring, like she’s waiting for Jo to react, to do something, anything. Jo feels herself shift uneasily under that gaze, her skin heating as though she’s been caught in something she shouldn’t have been.

She looks away again, closing her eyes briefly as she tries to focus more intently on the movement of Asher’s hands on her hips, on the way he’s leading her in a slow circle. She tries to focus on the feel of his body close to hers, tries to drown out the memory of Paige’s eyes. But Jo’s thoughts are all scattered, her focus slipping like sand through her fingers.

The music changes, the beat shifting, becoming more sensual, slower. Asher leans in closer, his lips brushing against Jo’s ear, and he whispers in that low voice that always makes her shiver, “You wanna go back to yours?”

Jo nods automatically, because, yes, she really needs to leave this place.

As they move through the crowd, heading for the exit, Jo sneaks one last glance at the bar. She’s hoping for something—she doesn’t even know what—but Paige’s attention is elsewhere, focused on Celeste now. Jo feels a pang, but it’s fleeting, and she brushes it off with a shrug, tightening her grip on Asher’s hand.

“I’MMA GO get another Shirley,” Paige says, pushing herself out of the booth before either Jo or Asher can respond. She’s already halfway out by the time the words fully register with them, and she doesn’t wait to hear what they might say. For obvious reasons, talking to Asher has drained her. They’ve been going on and on about football, and it just got to a point. Not to mention the fact that Jo was between them, the whole right side of her body pressed against Asher, his arm casually slung over her shoulders.

Paige tries not to think too hard about it. She’s fine. She’s so fine, in fact, that she decides she needs another drink.

The bar is crowded, but Paige carves her way through the bodies easily. She leans against the counter, resting her forearms on the sticky surface as she flags down the bartender. She orders another Dirty Shirley, and then a shot of tequila because, well, it’s just one of those nights.

Paige exhales and lets herself sink into the moment—the crowd, the pounding bass of the music, the buzz of alcohol in her system. She tries to think about anything but the happy couple she’d been forced to hang out with for far longer than she’d planned.

Her drink arrives, the tequila shot placed next to it. She picks up the shot glass without hesitation, throwing it back quickly. The burn hits her immediately, sharp and biting, but she welcomes it. She needs it. The glass clinks against the bar as she sets it down, and she picks up her Shirley, sipping it to chase the tequila’s lingering heat.

“Hey, P,” a voice says from beside her, catching her off guard.

Paige turns, her brown furrowing for a split second before her expression smooths out. It’s Celeste. Of course.

“Hey,” Paige says casually, as if the sight of the redhead doesn’t throw her a little off balance for a moment. She’s not surprised Celeste is here—she’s always around. She’s also not surprised when Celeste slides closer, her lips curving into a smile that Paige knows all too well.

“You celebrating the win?” Celeste asks, her voice light, flirtatious. Paige has to give her credit, if she’s honest, because, really, this girl never gives up, no matter how hot and cold Paige is.

And, if Paige is even more honest, Celeste looks good. Better than good. She’s wearing some kind of black corset top that pushes her tits up in a way that’s impossible not to notice, her bright red hair perfectly blown out, and her makeup flawless even in the hazy lighting of Ted’s.

“Something like that,” Paige replies, her words accompanied by a small shrug. She takes another sip of her drink, letting the alcohol settle over her like a warm blanket.

Celeste doesn’t waste any time. She leans forward, her hand brushing against Paige’s arm in a way that’s calculated. “You looked good on the bench tonight. I posted a couple shots that the cameras got of you,” she says lowly.

Paige nearly snorts at the words—you looked good on the bench tonight. That’s what she’s been reduced to, a pretty bench-warmer, too injured and useless to be anywhere but on it. But she doesn’t laugh. Because she knows exactly what Celeste is doing. And under normal circumstances, she might be annoyed—Celeste has a habit of getting too attached, of acting like there’s more between them than there really is. But tonight, Paige is a little drunk, a little tired, and more than a little tempted to let herself fall into the distraction Celeste is offering. She was already planning on fucking someone tonight, and Celeste? Well, she’s right here, looking like that. Why not?

So, Paige smiles, tilting her head just slightly, enough to give the redhead the impression that she’s been hooked. “Yeah?” she says playfully, teasingly. “Didn’t know you were paying that much attention.”

Celeste laughs a little, leaning even closer, and Paige can feel the way her fingers linger on her arm. She plays along, letting herself fall into the conversation, the push and pull of flirtation. It’s easier to think about other things.

But, of course, somehow, her focus still seems to slip.

Over Celeste’s shoulder, Paige catches a glimpse of the dance floor. Her eyes find Jo and Asher almost instantly, like she was looking for them without even realizing it. They’re dancing, their bodies close, their smiles easy. They look happy. They look like they belong together. And it makes Paige want to puke.

She tries to look away, tries to focus on Celeste, on the warmth of her hand still on her arm, on the sharp curve of her smile. But she can’t. Her eyes keep drifting back to Jo, drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

And then, suddenly, Jo looks over. Their eyes meet across the room, and Celeste blurs into the background beside Paige like she was never even there. Paige should look away, should stop staring. But she doesn’t. Her eyes stay locked on Jo’s, rooted there.

But then Jo breaks the connection, her gaze shifting away, and Paige is left staring at nothing. She feels an idiotic pang, and forced herself to take another sip of her drink.

Celeste seems to notice, her head turning to follow Paige’s line of sight. Her eyes land on Jo and Asher, and she tilts her head as she turns back to Paige. “Is that Jo’s boyfriend?” she asks.

Paige nods. “Yup. His name’s Asher.” She forces her voice to sound calm and unaffected, even though saying his name feels like she’s choking on something too sharp to swallow.

Celeste hums slowly in response. She pauses for a moment, and Paige can feel her gaze, sharp and curious, boring into her. “So… you and Jo are, like, best friends, right?” Her tone is casual, but there’s something suspicious laced beneath it, like she’s fishing for something Paige doesn’t want to give.

Paige nods again, slower this time, turning her head to glance at Celeste. “Yeah…” she says, the word dragging out of her like it takes effort to say. She wonders where this is going.

“Well,” Celeste begins, tipping her shot glass back and setting it down with a faint clink. “I ask her about you sometimes, and she never really gives me a clear answer. I can tell she tries to be nice to me, but it doesn’t really seem like she likes me much.”

Paige raises an eyebrow at that, her instinct to defend Jo kicking in automatically. “Nah, Jo likes everyone,” she says, waving Celeste off with a dismissive hand. And it’s true—Jo does like everyone.

But Celeste shakes her head, her red hair catching the light. “I don’t know,” she says thoughtfully. “For a while, I kinda thought you and her were a thing.”

The words hit Paige like a slap, and she chokes on the sip of her Shirley she just took, coughing as she sets her glass down hard on the bar. “What—?” she manages to get out, her voice rough and disbelieving. Her heart is pounding so loudly in her chest she’s sure Celeste can hear it.

Celeste shrugs, her expression almost too nonchalant, like she knows exactly what kind of chaos she’s causing. “Yeah. I mean, I guess I just kinda got that vibe. But if she’s got a boyfriend and we’ve fucked a couple times recently… I guess I was wrong.”

Paige blinks at her, wide-eyed. “You definitely were,” she says quickly, the words tumbling out too fast, too eager to set the record straight. Her face is flushed, and she can feel the heat crawling up her neck. “We’re just friends. Nothing more. At all.”

The words feel heavy in her mouth, bitter and thick. They’re not a lie, no matter how much Paige sometimes wishes it could be.

She doesn’t miss the way Celeste studies her, her green eyes narrowing slightly, like she’s trying to figure out if Paige is telling the truth. Paige hates how exposed she feels, like someone on the outside—someone as far removed as Celeste—can somehow sense the mess of feelings she’s been trying so hard to bury.

She forces herself to take a large gulp of her Shirley, the alcohol doing little to ease the tightness in her stomach. When she glanced back at the dance floor, her eyes automatically searched for Jo, she realizes that she’s—and Asher—are gone from their previous spot.

Her gaze flickers around the bar, scanning the corners, but they’re nowhere to be found. Probably went to go fuck, she thinks bitterly. Even though she has insight now that Asher is basically terrible at it, the idea still makes Paige want to die.

But she doesn’t. Obviously.

Instead, she finishes the last of her drink, turning her attention back to the girl next to her, forcing her signature smirk back onto her lips. Jo’s gone, busy with him, and Paige doesn’t owe anyone anything.

She leans into the conversation, matching Celeste’s flirtation with her own, their banter growing looser and bolder with each drink they down. The alcohol is certainly doing it’s job, blurring the edges of her thoughts, making everything feel distant and less painful.

Unexpectedly, Paige ends up in Celeste’s bed. And, also unexpectedly, she thinks about brown hair and doe eyes during the entirety of it.

JO LIES tangled in the sheets with Asher, her head resting on his bare chest, his arm wrapped around her back. It’s around four, she thinks, and the world outside feels impossibly quiet at this hour, the kind of stillness that comes only in the dead of night. Asher’s fingers trace slow, lazy patterns along her shoulder, his touch featherlight and soothing.

The haze of the night has mostly worn off now—the alcohol burned away by time, replaced by a comfortable clarity that feels almost foreign after hours of noise and chaos. It’s just the two of them now, alone in her room, their breaths in sync, the moment easy and weightless and familiar.

Jo closes her eyes, letting herself drift in the warmth of his presence, but her mind doesn’t quiet as easily as her body does. It’s almost like something beneath the surges won’t let her fully settle. It’s not unease, exactly. Not suspicion. Just… something. A restlessness she can’t name.

“Okay, I gotta piss,” Asher says suddenly, breaking the silence.

Jo snorts, her eyes fluttering open as she turns her head to look up at him. “Way to ruin the moment,” she teases, though her voice is laced with affection.

Asher grind down at her, unapologetic as he shifts, moving to sit up on the edge of the bed. “Nature calls,” he jokes. He starts to stand, but Jo catches his wrist, tugging him back down for just a second.

“Put some clothes on first,” she reminds him. “Paige got back a little bit ago.” She’d heard the door open, the quiet shuffle of footsteps as Paige made her way to her room. It was probably a half an hour ago, maybe less, and Jo had listened, wondering how Paige’s night had gone, whether she’d been alone or gone back with the team or left with Celeste.

Asher groans playfully, leaning down to peck Jo’s lips. “I will, I will,” he promises, his voice low and warm.

Jo rolls her eyes but can’t help the soft laugh truth escapes her. “You’d better,” she says, swatting lightly at his bare chest.

He smirks before gathering his clothes from the floor. Jo watches him for a moment, her head propped on her hand, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite herself. He looks good, his hair messy, his lips still swollen pink from all the kissing. And he’s here—he’s always been hers. She knows she should feel lucky.

When he leaves the bedroom to disappear into the bathroom, Jo sighs and sits up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. The cool air against her skin makes her shiver, so she grabs the first things she can find—a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants from her drawer. She pulls them on quickly, then settles back on the bed, folding her legs beneath her as she waits for Asher to return.

The sharp buzz of a phone notification catches her attention, the sound loud in the quiet.

Instinctively, Jo reaches over to the nightstand, assuming it’s hers. She picks up the phone without thinking, the screen lighting up in her hand—and stops short.

The message isn’t hers.

Her heart stills in her chest, her breath halting for a moment as she stares at the screen. Without thinking, she presses on the contact, scrolling and scrolling and scrolling, unraveling everything she thought she knew in an instant.

She doesn’t notice the sound of the bathroom door opening, doesn’t register Asher’s footsteps until they’re right at her bedroom door.

And then she hears his voice, soft and unsuspecting. “What’s wrong?”

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #uconn huskies #wcbb #wbb #uconn #paige bueckers series #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers angst #paige bueckers smut #ncaa wbb #wcbb x reader #wlw #lgbtq #nobody gets me

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saccharinesatoru · 5 months ago

Text

Unwrap Me (m)

Pairing: gojo satoru x reader (f)

Genre: sorcerer & boyfriend!Gojo + smut w/ fluff

Word count: uhh 6k ish i think

Summary: Satoru felt so very bad after spending so much time away from home, so to make it up to you, he’ll be wrapped nice and pretty for you as a Valentine’s Day gift for the both of you.

Warnings: submissive!gojo, mommy kink, bondage, overstimulation, breeding kink, choking, penetration (f receiving), brief use of daddy kink, pregnancy kink (low key)

A/N: i originally had this as a gojo christmas/belated birthday fic, but i didn’t finish it in time… lmao thank you always for the support. And lemme know if you have the artist’s ^ name, so i can tag or credit them

Xx Jay

Surprisingly, the hardest part about being a sorcerer wasn’t fighting curses, the agonizing hours of training, or even dealing with the ridiculously ignorant higher ups. The most challenging part was how your social life was almost entirely depleted. It’s a miracle you get along so well with other sorcerers like Shoko and Nanami, otherwise you’d have no friends whatsoever… and no boyfriend either. When you first met Satoru, you admittedly thought he was annoying. Though, pretty much everyone felt the same way upon meeting the white-haired sorcerer… and some people still found him annoying to this day (i.e., Nanami).

After years of working together, neither of you could deny the spark you two shared and eventually caved in to the passion. The rest was history. And now, going three years strong, you and Satoru love each other more than anything. There’s just one problem: both of you are so busy that you hardly get any time with each other. You have the day off? Sorry, Satoru’s on a mission abroad. He miraculously finishes a mission early and gets to come home sooner than expected? That’s a shame; you’re caught in a meeting with Yaga and the higher ups. It certainly wasn’t easy being in a relationship with the honored one, and that was emphasized on anniversaries and holidays that you two spent apart.

Today was Valentine’s Day, and you had already prepared yourself to spend the night alone, drinking wine, watching corny romcoms, facetiming Satoru from his mission outside of Tokyo, and trying not to cry yourself to sleep as you lay in a cold bed, void of your boyfriend of several years. You told yourself it was okay. After all, you should be used to it by this point, right? This was hardly the first significant date you had spent without your partner. Surely you’d be able to muster through this one too… right?

That would be much simpler if you hadn’t borne witness to about a dozen couples enjoying the day of love together. Hell, even Principal Yaga had plans and left campus early to meet with some mystery woman. Like Satoru, you're a teacher at Jujutsu High, and you saw plenty of your students celebrating the special day together. Yuta planned a picnic date with Maki, Megumi made a bouquet of origami flowers for Yuji, and even Hakari and Kirara had planned some big trip to a casino in the heart of Tokyo which definitely didn’t seem legal or age-appropriate. As happy as you were to see your students so happy and in love, it reminded you of how your Valentine this year would be your couch and a bottle of wine instead of your boyfriend. You took a deep breath as Ijichi drove you home. Ordinarily, you’d drive yourself, but you had a sneaking suspicion that even Ijichi felt bad for you and decided to show you some compassion… or pity… or both.

You smile softly and wave goodbye to the assistant supervisor as he drives off in the direction of the setting sun. Surprisingly, getting off work late was a welcomed circumstance today given it meant you’d be spending less time alone in an empty house. Trudging to your front door, you fumble with the keys and slip off your shoes upon entering the home you shared with Satoru. You weren’t sure if it was all in your head, but the house quite literally felt colder without Satoru- regardless of what the thermostat said. All you want to do is change into your pajamas and wallow in self-pity… but then you see the rose petals delicately scattered on the floor. You frown, and for a second, you think you’re either hallucinating, about to be attacked by someone who broke into your home, or being pranked.

Your worries are offset when you hear soft music coming from the direction of your bedroom. You slowly walk toward the room, following a line of rose petals. Upon peeking your head in the doorway, your jaw drops and your eyes widen. Who else do you find but the one and only Gojo Satoru sprawled across the bed wearing nothing but his signature blindfold and red ribbon that’s meticulously wrapped to cover his pelvis. Now you’re sure you’re hallucinating.

You stammer, “I… The mission… you’re here…”

He laughs and sits up to rest on his elbows. “Surprise, sweetheart. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

You feel dazed. Here you were, preparing yourself to lie to your boyfriend over facetime about not crying your eyes out due to loneliness when Satoru was sat, waiting all patient and pretty, and ready to be unwrapped like the gift he is. Your jaw must still be on the floor, because Satoru laughs again at your expression. “Don’t just stand there. I didn’t get home earlier than planned just for you to catch flies with that jaw of yours left open all night.”

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you feel tears well in your eyes as you rush toward him and leap onto the bed, pulling him into your arms. You say softly and quietly, “I missed you so much, Toru. I wanted to count down the days until I saw you next, but with how busy we both are, I wasn’t sure when that day would be.”

Satoru looks at you with a soft smile too as he holds you close to his chest and his warmth envelops you. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart… I know this is difficult for you and our relationship. I’m going to make a better effort to make time for us. And that’s why I think you’ll like the gift I got you…” He trails off before chuckling. “I mean, it’s not the only gift I got you, but I think you’ll like it most.”

You furrow your brows and look at him. It was not a surprise that Satoru got you multiple gifts for Valentine’s Day. He does the same thing for just about every special day, even holidays like Saint Patrick’s Day that neither one of you even celebrated. So what did he have planned that was so magnanimous that he deliberately mentioned it before giving it to you? “...What is it?”

He smirked at you and whispered in your ear, “After negotiating with the higher ups…” He pauses and amends, “Okay, after threatening the higher ups, I got the two of us a whole week off of work to do whatever… we… want.”

It may sound silly and over dramatic, but you honestly have to hold back a scream at the words he whispers to you. A whole week? Neither one of you has had that much time off since… actually, you’ve never had that much time off. You and Satoru were lucky to get a mere afternoon together. That time was always cherished, but this is an entire week. You feel faint just thinking about it. Your silence and expression conveys just about every bit of excitement and shock you have. Satoru smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek. “That’s right, sweets. Just you and me for the whole week. No curses, no missions, no higher ups… just us.”

A tear threatens to slip down your cheek as you process his words. He softly wipes away your tears with his thumb. You pull him even closer and breathe in the scent of his cologne. It’s the little things, really. The very thought that you’ll be able to take in his scent from rubbing your nose against the crook of his neck rather than try to inhale traces of it from his pillow brings you overwhelming joy that you can’t begin to put into words. You say softly and sincerely, “Thank you, Satoru. This means more than the world… You mean more than the world.”

Satoru smiles. “Anything for you, sweetheart.” He leans closer to you, his breath warm against your ear and whispers, “Now, how about you unwrap your other gift.. I think you’ll really like it.” He grabs your hand gently and places it on the ribbon’s bow on his thigh. You smirk as well and begin to slowly pull on the strand, untying the bow.

“I think it’s a gift both of us will like,” You whisper back.

You undo the ribbon and slowly slide it off Satoru, revealing his body in its entirety. You caress him as if he’s the most precious piece of art you’d ever laid eyes on (which is true). Almost as if in a trance, you whisper, “A masterpiece…”

Satoru’s blush doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Even though Satoru was always very confident (cocky) about his handsome features and bragged frequently about his physique and attractiveness, he never failed to blush whenever you complimented him. Something about you and your praise made him equal parts flustered and proud. And your comment just now was no exception. You chuckle at his expression and run your finger down his body. You have a mischievous twinkle in your eye. “Satoru… I have an idea for your Valentine’s Day gift…”

He furrows his brows in confusion. You have to keep yourself from cooing and pinching his cheeks, given his expression makes him akin to a puppy dog. “What is it?”

You smile and gently pull off the remaining ribbon on his body. Satoru lets out a quiet hiss at the feeling of the silk gliding over his rock hard cock. Once the ribbon is completely off his body, you twirl it in your hands and smile. “Be a good boy for me, and let me tie you up another way.”

Satoru’s eyes widen, and his cock grows impossibly harder. If your previous compliment made him blush, your comment made him red as a tomato. Sure, he likes pet names like ‘baby’, ‘sweetheart’, or ‘honey’... but nothing gets him hot, bothered, and a blushing mess than when you call him your good boy. He stutters, “T-tie me up?”

You chuckle and nod, playing with the ribbon in your hands. “You heard me right, Toru. How bout you let me string you up and take care of you for the night, hm? You must be so tired after your long mission… Why don’t you let mommy do all the work?”

He nearly cums from your words alone. No one would ever expect the strongest sorcerer of the modern age, the honored one, the almighty Gojo Satoru to have such a submissive side to him, but you knew better than anyone that every now and then, Satoru would be so desperate for you to take control that he’d be on the brink of tears. This is no exception. He looks at you like you’re his patron saint, and he worships the very ground you walk on. He nods slowly, eyes still wide. You chuckle again and lightly pat his cheek. “Words, baby.”

Satoru attempts (and fails) to snap out of his daze, but is able to speak softly, “Yes, mommy. Please make me feel good. I need it- I need you.”

You smile and press a soft kiss to his forehead. “What a good boy. Scoot up near the headboard for me, baby. Let’s hope I’m still good at tying knots.” He damn near leaps to the top of the bed. You almost question if he teleported there, too excited to even move normally. It’s not entirely fair to chuckle at his behavior, since you’re just as excited as he is. You use the ribbon to tie his wrists to the headboard. Pulling gently on the restraints to make sure they’re not too tight, you ask softly, “Is that okay, baby? Not too tight?”

He shakes his head. “It’s fine, mommy- no pain or discomfort.”

You nod and caress his cheek again. “You remember our system, right? Green for keep going, yellow for slow down, and red for stop. If your mouth is full, tap me three times, and I’ll stop. Also, be sure to tell me if the restraints are too tight or are beginning to hurt you, okay? I know you can heal yourself with reverse curse technique, but the last thing I want is to hurt you, alright? Don’t ever worry about upsetting or disappointing me. Your safety is the most important thing to me, alright?”

Satoru nods. Even the way you speak to him while explaining your safe words has his stomach doing flips. He’s always appreciated how caring you are, and there’s no exception when it comes to sex. As hot as the actual act is, the amount of love and care you display is the part of sex that means the most to him. And obviously, he’s far too strong for the measly ribbon to hold him back, but the very act of submitting to you willingly has both of you feeling hot and bothered. “Yes, I understand. I will communicate with you how I’m feeling, I promise.”

You nod again and press a soft kiss to his lips. “Okay, baby, let’s get started.”

The excitement in Satoru’s eyes is practically visible through his blindfold. You chuckle and gently slip the fabric up and over his head. “I want to see all of you.” His face heats up at your words and nods, his bottom lip between his teeth and blush on full display. You begin by running your finger gently down his torso, leaving goosebumps along his skin. As you move lower, you begin to pepper kisses along his torso, leading to his muscular thighs. When you reach his cock, you playfully run your tongue over a vein, making him shiver. “P-please don’t tease, mommy. I need you so bad.”

Chuckling softly, you drop a dollop of spit onto his length and take him in your hand, pumping him a few times. “I’m sorry, baby. You know I can’t help but love watching my good boy squirm and beg for me.” Shooting him a sweet smile, you lean forward and wrap your lips around his pretty pink tip, eliciting a gasp out of the man. Deciding you’re done with teasing him, you sink your mouth down further until he hits the back of your throat. Instead of making him cry through teasing, you’ll make sure to bring him to tears by milking him dry.

You begin with a slow rhythm, pumping in your hands whatever you can’t fit in your mouth. Satoru was nonstandard in every sense of the word. To say his cock was massive was an understatement. The feeling of him in your mouth was one thing, but the stretch you felt when he finally slipped inside was unlike anything else you’d ever felt. And you were determined to make him feel as good as he made you feel. Quickening your pace, you hear Satoru moan, the occasional whimper and whine spilling from his lips. You forced your mouth deeper until your nose touched his pelvis, the soft white tufts of hair around his cock brushing against your nose. You lean up quickly for air, you immediately wrap your lips around him again. He gasps at the sudden change and wiggles his hips against you, almost thrusting into your mouth. You tap his thigh, wordlessly giving him permission to fuck your mouth. Satoru whines upon your signal granting him permission and wastes no time bucking his hips upward, his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. You’re gagging, drool and precum spilling from your lips and dripping down your chin. Satoru looks at the sight of you with tears brimming in your eyes from the lack of oxygen as he fucks into your tight throat. He honestly feels like he could cum from the sight alone, but he holds back since he doesn’t want the moment to end. The pleasure feels too good for him to give in now. He bites his lip and clenches both of his fists against the restraints.

Upon seeing him hold back, you narrow your eyes and sit up. When his hardened cock falls from your lips, his eyes shoot open in desperation and he immediately begins to whine, “W-wait, wait, wait! Why did you stop? Please, please keep going, mommy.”

Taking his length in your hand and rubbing up and down the appendage, you say sternly, “You know how I feel about you holding back, baby. You’re not supposed to hold back any noises or orgasms unless I tell you otherwise. I don’t want to have to punish you…”

Satoru feels like he might start crying on the spot. “N-No! No, I swear, I’ll be your good boy. I’m sorry for breaking the rules, mommy. I… I just wanted this to last longer. Y-your mouth feels so good, and I just want to feel it a little bit longer, mommy. I wasn’t trying to be bad.”

You honestly feel bad for even mentioning punishment in the first place with how desperate Satoru looked at the moment. You caress his cheek and say softly, “Baby, I have so much more in store for you. Just because you cum early during a blowjob doesn’t mean I’m not going to milk you dry tonight.”

His eyes light up in excitement at your words, the distress written on his face fading and the tears subsiding. “Yes, yes, thank you, mommy. I’m sorry for doubting and disrespecting you…” Satoru’s face morphs into a pout. “Can… Can we keep going please?”

Chuckling at his question, you nod. “Of course, baby. Tonight’s about you.” You catch him off guard by immediately taking him in your mouth again, causing him to let out a loud moan and tense his thick thighs. You increase the pleasure by moving one hand to his balls and fondling them the way you know drives him crazy. He whimpers at the feeling and faces an internal dilemma as to whether or not he should drop his head against the pillow in pleasure or keep his eyes trained on the captivating sight that is you.

With his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat, your hand pumping what you can’t fit in your mouth, and your other hand playing with his balls has him teetering on the edge of climax. He whines out, “M-Mommy, mommy, I’m close. Please let me cum, I can’t take it anymore.”

You hum around him, both giving him nonverbal permission to cum as well as sending vibrations through his already sensitive cock. He gasps and shoots his load into your mouth, whining, moaning, and thanking you for pleasing him. “Thank… Thank you so much, mommy. That felt so… so good.” He’s panting and trying to catch his breath when his eyes widen upon realizing you hadn’t stopped your ministrations. Satoru stammers, “W-Wait, mommy, I finished already. I- fuck- I’m sensitive.”

Despite hearing his nervous stammering, you continue to suck him off. Hearing all his cute little noises sounded even better after he felt boneless following a powerful orgasm. Just to push him even further, you pick up the intensity of your movements and make the act even messier with more drool, tears, and precum. You know how much he likes the sight of you eager to please him and give him the relief he needs.

Satoru feels like his brain is turning to mush. Despite the fact that he just came moments ago, he feels his cock begin to harden again, adding to the sensitivity he feels. He feels his entire body tremble as you increase the intensity. He lets out a shaky breath, feeling as oxygen-deprived as you do. “I-I’m close again, mommy. I’m so, so close. I’m going to cum, oh my god.” Satoru groans and his entire body tenses, anticipating his climax. You pull your mouth off him, but continue pumping him up and down as well as fondling his balls.

You say to your boyfriend warmly, “Baby, I told you I was going to milk you dry. Mommy always keeps her promises, right?”

He nods vigorously which is a miracle considering how high he feels at the moment. Satoru’s lips are red from how much he’s bitten them and his entire body is on edge, teetering on the brink of release. He looks at you with tear-filled eyes. “C-Can I cum, mommy? Please? I’ve been such a good boy for you.”

Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss to his lips and whisper, “Cum for me, baby. Show mommy how good she made you feel.”

You barely finish your sentence before he’s spilling into your hand, several ropes of cum coming from his red, sensitive cock. “Fuck!” Satoru’s a moaning mess, and you’d surely get noise complaints from the neighbors if Satoru weren’t so rich that he could buy the two of you an unreasonably large mansion. He’s loud and shameless- just how you like him.

He comes down from his high and mutters, “Thank you, mommy. I-I was worried about how sensitive I felt at first, but you made me feel so good as usual. Thank you for always taking such good care of me.” Satoru looks at you with stars in his eyes as if you were an angel sent from heaven.

You chuckle softly and lick off the cum that had stuck to your hands. Gently pushing some of his hair from his sweaty forehead, you smile fondly at the man. “Of course, baby. I have to give my good boy every bit of care and affection he deserves.”

Satoru smiles at you softly and leans up to catch your lips in a kiss again. You make him feel so safe, so warm… so loved. He hadn’t felt that way since Suguru said goodbye to him all those years ago and left him to pick up the broken pieces of the life they had built together. You made him feel whole again, and he would spend every day of the rest of his life repaying you for the priceless amount of care and affection you gave him.

He feels content in the moment but longs for you in a more intimate way. Satoru looks at you, a bit shy, and asks softly, “Can… Can you please ride me, mommy? Your mouth feels so good… but your pussy feels amazing.”

You chuckle again and press another peck to his lips. “Of course, baby. I just wanted you to catch your breath first… What color?”

He thinks back to their color safe word system and states confidently, “Green, mommy. I feel a bit overstimulated… but you know I like it…” Satoru looks to the side, blush spreading across his cheeks again.

Gently grabbing his chin and turning him to face you, you meet his gaze. “I know you do, baby. We’re far from done tonight, so I really need you to be honest and vocal with me if you want to slow down… If you’re ready, then we can move on.”

Satoru nods. “Yes, mommy, I’m ready to continue. Please… please use me. Use my body, mommy. My cock belongs to you.” You can tell by his expression just how much sincerity his words hold, and it makes your heart warm like nothing and no one else could. You smile softly at him and capture his lips in a loving kiss. Your actions convey what your words cannot, and Satoru can feel the amount of love you feel for him. It makes his stomach erupt with butterflies. He would fight every cursed spirit and curse-user a million times over just for a simple touch from you.

You throw your leg over his torso, effectively straddling him. You hover over his cock and use your hand to line him up with your entrance. Looking down at him, you ask, “Are you ready, baby? Ready for mommy’s pussy to take your big cock?”

Your words have Satoru feeling feral. He nods so intensely, you think for a moment that he’ll have to use RCT to heal his neck. With desperation in his voice and written across his face, Satoru says quickly, “Yes, yes, please. Mommy, I need you so bad. I’m gonna lose my mind.”

Chuckling, you show him mercy (not like you were doing any better yourself). You sink down on his cock and hiss at the stretch. The two of you never wore condoms since nothing felt better than being able to feel each other without any barriers in the way. The thought of that alone made Satoru feel weak, and the action itself made him feel like he ascended to heaven. Every time he filled you up, he returned to his own personal paradise. And the feeling was only exemplified by the fact that he was tied up, completely at your mercy. He whimpers when he bottoms out, your tight, warm walls sucking in his cock like a vacuum, making him shiver uncontrollably.

After taking a moment to adjust, you lift yourself up with your thighs and slam back down onto him, making the two of you moan loudly in unison. After a few slow movements, you begin to bounce on his cock with increasing speed. You bring one of your hands to play with your clit as you ride him which has Satoru feeling both incredibly turned on and also a bit jealous since he wanted to touch your body too. You notice the look on his face and chuckle breathlessly, “Don’t worry, baby. Your touch still feels better than mine. Your hands are just a bit… preoccupied at the moment.”

In any other situation, Satoru would have laughed at your sly joke, but you were fucking him so good that he couldn’t even get in a smart ass comment in retaliation. As your hips meet his, a bit of drool begins to spill from his lips. You lean forward and lick off the saliva that threatens to descend down his chin. Satoru looks fucked out beyond belief. The two consecutive orgasm overstimulation from earlier only made him more sensitive, and you knew it too.

With your spare hand, you wrap your fingers around Satoru’s throat, applying a fair amount of pressure that has him impossibly more aroused. Though you’re careful not to squeeze too tight and risk hurting Satoru since he was particularly sensitive in his submissive state, you press your fingers around his throat and make him see stars with the combination of your tight pussy and tightened grip around his windpipe.

Satoru’s eyes roll to the back, and his head drops down onto the pillow. He longs to place his hands on your hips and guide you up and down his cock, but he knows that he has to be a good boy for you- especially since you’re oh-so-sweetly taking care of him. And in the moment, the mere thought of displeasing you makes him feel like crying.

Noticing his expression, you press your lips to his again, kissing him passionately. He returns the kiss, matching the amount of affection and eager to express his love for you through his lips. You continue to fuck yourself on his cock, making the both of you loud and uncontrollable messes, frantically chasing their releases.

Satoru hisses, “F-Fuck, mommy, your pussy fits me like a glove, I s-swear. I don’t give a fuck about jujutsu; your pussy is the real magic.”

You would have laughed at his words if it weren’t for the fact that you were also turned on beyond belief and felt like you were going to explode if you didn’t climax soon. You release your hold on his neck (much to Satoru’s dismay) and start leaving hickeys along the smooth skin instead. Satoru gasps at a particularly hard bite against his jugular, making his eyes widen. You whisper in his ear, “You better not get rid of the marks I’m leaving on you, baby. You’re my own little masterpiece. My good boy, so pretty and strong. I just wanna mark you so everyone knows who you belong to. So be a good boy for mommy and don’t use your RCT to heal yourself, okay?”

Satoru is nodding quickly before you even finish speaking. “Yes, mommy, I belong to you. I don’t want anyone else looking at me. I- oh my god, you feel so good…” He’s unable to finish his sentence with how good you’re making him feel. He stammers out again between moans and whines, “I’m all yours, mommy- no one else’s. Use me whenever and however you want. Just wanna make you feel good.”

He’s a rambling mess, and you know he’s approaching another orgasm. You ignore the burning in your thighs and force your body to move even quicker. His cock is sucked in and out of your pussy before his eyes, and the sight has him feeling even dizzier than he already does. Moaning against his skin, you breathe out, “Fuck, baby, you’re gonna make mommy cum. Be a good boy and thrust up into me like before, okay? Can you do that for mommy?”

Satoru nods eagerly again and starts fucking up into you, increasing the pleasure even more. Your fingers make fast figure eights on your clit and bring you to your climax. You curse and clench around him. “Oh my god, Satoru!”

He’s unable to be quiet even if he wanted to. Your walls tightening around him sends him spiraling over the edge. Satoru whines uncontrollably, and you feel him fill your insides with several spurts of his hot seed. He’s panting, chest rising and falling heavily with his eyes clenched shut. All of a sudden, his eyes shoot open. “Oh my god, mommy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t ask for permission to cum, and you told me to obey you otherwise I’d get a punishment, and I didn’t mean to let you down. You felt so good around me, and I know that’s not an excuse, but I just couldn’t help myself and-”

You cut him off with a kiss. “Baby, it’s okay, I understand. Don’t worry; I’m not mad at you. You’re not going to be punished, baby. Take some deep breaths, okay? I know you’re feeling sensitive.” You softly wipe a tear that threatened to fall from the corner of his eye. He was so distraught at the thought of disappointing you that it had him as breathless as his orgasm. You rub your hand on his chest comfortingly. “What color, baby?”

He takes some deep breaths, trying to collect himself. Your soothing touch did wonders for him (it always did), and he was able to calm down within the next couple of moments before saying softly, “Green, mommy. I just… I just want to make you proud.”

Satoru has a frown on his face that breaks your heart just a bit. You take his face in your hands gently and say softly, “Baby, you make me proud everyday. The love of my life is the strongest sorcerer of the modern age. And the jujutsu isn’t even the most important part.”

He looks at you with a bit of surprise in his eyes, “...It’s not?”

You chuckle softly and shake your head, rubbing your thumb against his cheek. “I’m proud of how smart you are, how brave you are, how big your heart is... I’m the luckiest girl in the whole wide world, because I get to call you mine.”

Before, Satoru felt like he was going to cry out of fear that he has disappointed you by not following the rules. Now he felt like he was going to cry from the sheer impact of your words alone. “You… You really mean that?”

You smile and press another soft kiss to his lips. “I meant every word, baby. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It doesn’t matter if our schedules don’t align or if we don’t always get to be around one another. There’s nothing that could keep me from loving you.”

Now Satoru actually starts crying. You frown and untie his hands gently before pulling him in for a hug. “Thank you for always being such a good boy for me, baby.” He pulls you in closer and wraps his arms around you tightly as if you’ll slip through his fingers if he’s not careful… just like Suguru did.

He whispers, vulnerability laced in his words, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smile softly and caress him. “You’ll never have to find out, baby. I’m right here, and there’s nothing you can do to get rid of me.” He chuckles softly at your words, knowing that he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Satoru speaks softly again, “I keep having this dream… where you and I are retired, and we spend our days doing all the things we never have time for as sorcerers. Every time I pass by a bakery, I think about baking with you on a peaceful Saturday morning with flour cutely dusted on your face… Whenever I travel abroad for a mission, I think about how amazing it would feel to take you on a trip around the world, visiting every landmark and attraction just for the hell of it… Whenever I’m around the students, I… I think about how it would feel having kids of our own…”

Your eyes widen at that last comment. You know that Satoru is especially soft and sentimental after being in a submissive state, but you and Satoru had never discussed having kids together before. Of course, you wanted to… but having and raising kids when both of you were overworked beyond reason seemed impossible. But to hear him say those words so passionately, so sincerely, it had your heart warming in a way it never had before.

You say softly, “Maybe… maybe we can make that a reality, Satoru.”

He looks at you with hope. “Do… Do you think so?”

Smiling warmly at the man, you press another kiss to his lips. “I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you, and the thought of building a family with you only makes me love you more.”

In that moment, Satoru feels more loved than he ever had in his entire life. He pulls you even closer until you feel his heartbeat against your own chest. After a moment, a smile slowly forms on your lips. “You know, Satoru… maybe I should stop taking my birth control…”

His head snaps up, and his wide eyes meet yours. “Don’t mess with me right now, or I swear to god, I’ll hollow purple myself.”

You laugh at his comment. Although it sounded like a joke, you could hear the vulnerability in his tone. He wouldn’t really hollow purple himself… but this conversation about your future together was so important to him that he felt like he was hanging on the edge of his seat waiting for your answer. You whisper against his lips, “I want you, Satoru- all of you. I want the white dress and flower bouquet, I want the sounds of our kids playing in the backyard, I want you by my side as we build a home- a family- together.”

Satoru pauses and looks a bit sheepish before saying, “Well, uh… If you don’t wanna spoil the surprise, then don’t look at the small box on our nightstand…”

You pause as well and naturally turn to the nightstand, unable to resist the temptation. You ask calmly, though your heart feels like it’s about to explode, “Satoru… is that an engagement ring?”

He doesn’t answer, and his silence speaks volumes.

You laugh at his expression and smile playfully. “Well… If we really do hear those wedding day church bells in our future… then maybe it really is time we start building that family…”

Satoru’s cock twitches inside you at your words, and you smirk. “What do you say, baby?”

He catches off guard by flipping the two of you over. You yelp as you're pinned down to the bed, staring up at Satoru with a fire in his eyes you’d never seen before. Before you can say anything, he grinds his hips against yours, and you moan. You ask shakily, “Y-you’re not too sensitive still?”

Satoru laughs and begins to slowly thrust into you. “Ha! Are you kidding? My girl just told me she wants to have my kids. I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on in my entire life.”

You’re about to playfully roll your eyes when he snaps his hips against yours again and sets a rough pace. You’re a moaning mess, and Satoru’s hard thrusts have you seeing stars. Satoru doesn’t even care that you’re still on birth control, and there’s hardly a sliver of a chance that you could miraculously get pregnant from a faulty medication. None of that matters. He has tunnel vision, and the idea of you pregnant has him crazed. He’s fucking you within an inch of your life. “Fuck, you’re gonna look so good, all round and plump… And your tits are gonna taste even better when they’re swollen with milk.” He latches his mouth onto your nipples and starts sucking and biting.

Long gone is the submissive Satoru who called you ‘mommy’, because now Satoru is hellbent on turning you into a mommy. He’s a man possessed with the way he fucks you. His hardened cock is slamming in and out of you, and all you can do is moan as he fucks your brains out. He chuckles darkly, “Who’s submissive now, huh?”

You don’t even get the chance to respond since Satoru’s hand makes its way between your thighs and begins to rub your clit harshly just the way you like. You scream out, “Fuck! Satoru, don’t stop. Oh my god…”

Satoru smiles at your moans and continues fucking into you like his life depended on it. The sound of skin slapping echoes through the room, and the bed begins to squeak due to the intensity of Satoru’s thrusts. Neither one of you cares though, too distracted with the feel of each other. As if in a trace, you two fuck as if you’re the only people left in the world. Satoru speeds up the pace of his thrusts as well as his fingers on the bundle of nerves.

You’re a blubbering mess. “Satoru, fuck, I’m so close.”

Desperately teetering on the verge of your orgasm, you’re desperate for release. Satoru laughs breathlessly as if he’s in a better state than you are. “Can’t hold on anymore? Look who’s- fuck- desperate now.”

An idea comes to mind and you lean in to whisper in Satoru’s ear, “Please let me cum, daddy.”

Satoru cums immediately. He practically bursts. Daddy kinks were one thing, but daddy kinks in the context of you two having a baby together? Fuck, Satoru is reeling. “Shit, oh my god, sweetheart. Take all my seed, fucking cum with me.”

You don’t waste a second and cum immediately after Satoru’s words. “Satoru! You’re so deep inside me- fuck. You’re filling me up so good…” You fight the urge to pass out with how hard your climax was. It seems that you and Satoru are the same in that starting a family has you hornier than ever.

Once you both come down from your highs, you’re both breathing heavily with Satoru lying comfortably on top of you. You hold one another close and enjoy the feeling of each other’s heartbeats.

Satoru chuckles after a while. “I had a special Valentine’s Day dinner planned for us… but now I think it’s best we just stay in bed.” You laugh as well.

“All this baby-making practice sure is intense.” You wipe your hair out of your eyes and gasp when Satoru thrusts into you again, cock harder than ever before. “...Satoru?”

He grins. “I guess we’ll just have to keep practicing our baby-making for when you stop your birth control. Practice makes perfect, right?”

Happy Valentine’s Day indeed.

---

i actually posted when i said i was gonna lol wow that's a first. if you made it this far, thanks for reading and happy belated valentine's day loves <3

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

Text

Someone New 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: I am queuing this so who knows if Im still suffering.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The morning is going splendid. You spilled your coffee and the tea you packed in a thermos, you left on your counter. The realisation doesn’t hit you until you pull up to the site. You huff and hang your head, gripping the steering wheel as you brace yourself for your caffeine withdrawal.

At least it’s dry. Mostly. As Thor forecast, the rain didn’t come until the night. The steady patter kept you awake, along with that lingering displacement that never quite leaves you. Fatigue is another constant. Your new normal; sleepless nights and sleepy days.

You get out and set to work. It’s all you can do. It’s all you’ve been doing. Just keep going. It doesn’t matter how, just get it done, get through the day.

You yawn at your task, brushing digging, oh so gently wiggling the little form. It’s almost out. Almost free. In your eagerness for some progress, you get careless. Your hand slips and the spearhead grazes our palm. Is isn’t until the stinging splits your skin that you realise it’s a slash.

Damn it, you didn’t put your damned gloves on.

Great, with the luck you’re having, you’ve just contracted some ancient virus. You hiss and grip your wrist. Your adrenaline triggers your heart. You take a few breaths to stay calm as you watch the blood bead to the surface.

You curse and stagger to your feet. You grab the rag from your back pocket and clutch it in your injured hand. You grip it tight as you cross the site, careful not to tread to heavily, and you angle the fencing to sidle between two panels.

You clumsily pull open the car door and reach under the seat. You always keep an emergency with you. It’s a rule of thumb for your sort of work. You never know what might happen. Bug spray, sunscreen, bandages, swabs, a hole trove of supplies.

You shake as the pain intensifies, thrumming through your palm. You come out and rest the plastic tote on the hood and sift through with your single hand. This is going to be awkward as hell. While you enjoy your solitary, it can sometimes be unsettling. What if something worse happened?

“Ruff, ruff, rrrrruffffff,” the growlish yet high-pitched barking comes from up the mountain road.

You pause as he peek under the rag and peer up as gravel mulches. Another visit? Your work is so boring, you wouldn’t expect him again. Thor appears as Thunder hops before him, spastic as she sniffs the ground in circles. He smiles and waves but you can only manage a grimace before you look back to your wound.

“Morning,” he booms as he scoops up the small dog and nears the other side of the car, “it’ll be a sunny one.”

“You sure?” You look up at the greyish blue skies, than at him. Hm, the hue of above is rather similar to his eyes.

“I know so,” he assures you and tilts his head curiously, “why are you so grim?”

You show him your hand as you lift the cloth from it. He lets out a sympathetic hum and sets Thunder on the ground. She runs over to inspect the fence as he rounds the hood towards you. As he gets closer, his size is even more obvious. He’s well-built, you can see it even at a distance, but up close and personal, he’s almost inhuman in stature.

“Yikes,” he offers his hand, “may I?”

“Really, it’s not—I can handle it.”

“I’m certain you can. Only the bravest woman would come to these grey lands and sit alone in the dirt,” he jokes. “Please, it’ll be easier with two hands.”

You relent, a tinge of embarrassment hot in your cheeks, and peel the rag away. You hold your hand out to him and he brings one of his large ones to cradle it. Wow. He’s massive. The difference in your hands is startling.

“Nasty cut,” he muses as he reaches over for the swabs you’ve piled out on the metal, “but it shouldn’t need more than a snug wrap.”

“Thanks,” you look away, eyeing the dirt as his proximity makes you squirm.

You can’t remember the last time a man touched you, especially a handsome one. Well, aside from Sam and Bucky but those were just hugs and usually ended in them arguing anyway. You’ve never been the most popular girl in the world and those men you managed to reel in didn’t stay on the hook very long. You never really tried to keep them. You were always too distracted.

You wince as he wipes the cut with the alcoholic cloth. He softens his touch but holds your hand firm from beneath. He offers a rumbling apology as he focuses on tending to you. His intent is new to you. The way he looks at your palm holds more than any look you’ve ever gotten from a man. Or anyone.

He crumples up the used wipe and takes another. He’s thorough. You feel a shiver roll through you despite the warmth in the air. He trades the wipe for the roll of gauze and wraps the strip around your hand, hooking over your thumb and looping your wrist. He uses the little metal clip to pin it then turns your hand over, brushing his own over it as he grins.

“Good as new,” he announces, “though I recommend you not use it too much. And perhaps a pair of gloves.”

“Yeah, I forgot. Long day.”

“It’s nine in the morning?” He chuckles.

“Yep,” you agree dryly.

“Hopefully it gets better,” he says.

“Yeah, maybe,” you agree dully and toss the things back in the tote.

He picks it up before you can and keeps it from your reach, “like I said, you should take it easy.”

“Well, there’s work to be done,” you say as he moves to the open door and slides the tote inside. “What are you doing back here?”

“Ah, I let the queen lead the way,” he stands straight and closes the car door. He looks past you and your head perks up. Thunder is very quiet. “As ever, she does not tread with caution.”

You turn to find the chihuahua inside the fence. You jump in place and sprint over, clattering between the panels as you call after her. “No, no, sweetie, be careful!”

You chase her around where you were digging as you sense Thor watching from without. Great! You hope she didn’t pee anywhere.

A sharp whistle pierces the air and Thunder stops. She sits in place, still wiggling, but doesn’t move. You peek back at Thor and he nods. You near her and pick her up.

“Sorry about her, she is a free spirit,” he tuts as you cross back to him. “I will be certain she does not stray again. My apologies.”

You’re taken aback by his sincerity. You try to remember the last time someone apologised to you and sounded like they meant it. Hell, when’s the last time you even got an apology. You dip out between the grating and hold out the dog.

“I would hate to get in your way any more than we already have,” he hugs her with one arm and spreads his other hand over his chest, “we will be on our way. I do hope the sunshine brings some brightness to your day.”

“Um, thanks,” you shift on your feet and hide your twiddling fingers. “You too.”

“I’ve already found my sunlight,” he grins even wider and blinks, “now, Thunder, let’s go make a storm somewhere else.” He twists on his heel and lumbers off, “perhaps mother might put up with you for a time.”

You stand just outside the fence and watch him go. A lock of his golden hair hangs loosely form his bun, dangling down his back, wagging almost like the dog’s little tail. He bounds over the lumpy ground and disappears behind the rock face. You look down and smile.

Not everything is so bad and you can see the amber ribbon limning the clouds. The sun will be there soon. Just like he promised.

💟

Thor comes back again.

It’s a week since you cut your hand. Like before, you can’t predict him. You don’t hear him approach as he’s alone. You only notice him as he clangs something on the fence and lets out an ‘oops’. You pop your head up and look over at him through squinting eyes. Your forehead hurts from the expression.

You smooth out your face and stand, facing him. He wiggles a metal canister in his hand. The wind sweeps the strands around his square jaw as the sky pulses in shades of gray behind him.

“Thought you might like some hot tea,” he holds up the thermos.

“Oh, uh... you didn’t have to...” you look at the sky and its quivering blanket. You’ve been pondering packing up for the last hour. “Thanks.”

“Not to worry, I was restless.”

“And you always go walking through the mountains when you’re bored?” You wonder as you step around the markers in the dirt.

“I live here, there isn’t very much else to do and it isn’t a good day for swimming.”

“Swimming?” You nod and click your tongue. “Sounds like the life to me.”

“Mm, it can be rather languid when there isn’t work to do,” he turns the thermos in his hands as he talks, “Have you tried cloudberry?”

“Cloudberry? Never heard of it.”

He pokes the thermos between the panels and you take it. He pushes the barrier back into place between you, hooking his fingers into the links. You feel the warmth through the copper-coloured metal.

“You didn’t have to come all this way for tea,” you laugh.

“I wanted to ask after your hand. See how it’s healing,” he says.

“Oh, uh,” you open and close your gloved hand, “just a scab now. I’m all good.”

He smiles and keeps himself from leaning to heavily as the fence dips towards you. He coughs and realigns his feet, brushing back the looses strands around his face with a flick. He pushes his shoulders back and drops his hand.

“So uh, you should try the tea. I put together the herbs myself, steeped it...” he bounces on his heels, “I suppose it’s not that impressive but it is good. Antioxidants, anti-inflammatory.”

“Wow, sounds like one of those superfoods,” you scoffs as you pull of your glove and tuck it into your work belt. You untwist the cap and steam wisps out. You smell the tea and blow over it. You look up and find him watching you. “You’re starting to make me nervous, what’s in it?”

“Just tea,” he assures. “I can’t lie to you, though. It wasn’t my idea. My mother suggested it. She’s very interested to see what you’re digging up but I’m afraid she can’t do much at the moment.”

“Oh, your mother? Is she sick?”

“She is in perfect health aside from her dislocated knee. She went rock climbing and well, accidents happen, eh?”

“Yeah, sure do,” you show him your cut. “But they get better.”

A lull rises as you take a dainty sip. The tartness tweaks your cheeks and you scrunch up your nose.

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s... different but not bad,” you say. “So, your parents live up here too?”

“Mm, yes. I’m afraid I’m occupying their attic at the moment. I sold my home in Oslo, it was much too... cold.”

You can’t help but snort, “it’s Norway.”

“Ah, so it is. I should be used to it,” he agrees. “And how are you faring here? Have you adjusted to these dour lands?”

“Eh, I’m trying,” you put the lid back on and turn it until tight. “Thanks for the tea.”

“My pleasure,” he assures you. “Seems lonely work.”

“I don’t mind it,” you shrug and cross your arms, tucking the thermos beneath one arm.

“Interesting though. Have you found very much?”

“Ugh, a spearhead and some pieces of the shaft. A vase, cracked though. Some beads.”

“Beads,” he echoes thoughtfully, “is this all confidential?”

“Not really, you wanna see?”

“Very much so,” he says.

“Right, uh, let me just...”

You go back to where you were sat and plant the thermos in the dirt. You scurry around, overly aware of his observation, and go to the pin of your catalogued items. You find the bone beads and brings the little dish of them over to the fence. You hold them up as he peers between the links.

“They have runes,” he intones.

“Yeah, I’ve got the meaning of all of them except, er...” you pull out the single bead made of jade, “this one.”

He hums and considers it closely, leaning in.

“Not a rune. That’s a family symbol.”

“Oh?”

“My family’s.”

“Wow, uh,” you lower your chin, “that’s... I... kinda feel like a thief.”

“Can’t have cared very much about it if it’s down there,” he remarks, “you know, my father has mapped out much of our genealogy. As much as he can. He might be able to assist with your research, if he can find the time. Bit of a hermit these days.”

“Oh, uh maybe, I’d hate to bother,” you smile sheepishly, “erm...” you look around, “where’s Thunder? Awful quiet without her.”

“She’s keeping mother company. I’ve told her not to be too much of an imp, can’t have her making it worse,” he shakes his head. “The two of them are both stubborn as the other.”

You can’t help the twitch in your eye. All this talk of your family has you suddenly homesick. You fight not to crack and swallow tightly.

“Anyway, thanks again for the tea.”

“Your parents must miss you,” he says abruptly.

“Erm, yeah, my mom calls now and then but she’s better as an empty nester. Dad’s got his head under a hood most days so...”

“Friends? Boyfriend?” He wonders.

You arch a brow. He’s not very subtle and yet his inquiry can’t be anything but innocent, right? You’re still strangers. He can’t be into you. Not someone who looks like him. How long did you pray for Steve to even see you like that? This man is definitely not going to.

“Friends. Sam likes to pester me when I should be sleeping and Bucky... they’re funny.” You sniff and gaze past him. You won’t mention that giant elephant in your head. The one you think about at night.

“Lots to miss back home, it sounds like,” he breaks the silence before it can settle.

“Yeah, but not every day you get to travel.”

“And to a beautiful land,” Thor declares, “I hope one day you’ll come out of the dirt and see more of it. You’ll be surprised what lays further up the mountain.”

You smile and look down, “yeah, maybe one day.”

“Until then,” he backs up on his heel, “I won’t distract you any further. Enjoy your tea.” He turns and strides away, pausing halfway as you linger by the fence, “the rain will be here around five so I would leave early, otherwise you’ll be driving through it.”

“Right,” your chest deflates just a little. You don’t know what you wanted him to say but you’re disappointed, “thanks.”

#thor #steve rogers #thor x reader #steve rogers x reader #series #someone new #angst fic #grayish fic #mcu #marvel #au #fic #captain america #avengers

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