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j0hnpr1c3sm1ssus · 1 day ago

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FICMAS - DAY 12 - WRAPPING PRESENTS

Title: Presents with Price

Synopsis: John and you take a small... break from wrapping presents.

Warnings: This is uh.. smut :) other than that, nothing much other than mentions of Johnny having chemical burns (because he's a bomb tech, it's kind of realistic I reckon) oh and like mild voyuerism but nothing much lol. Also female anatomy + fem praise (atta girl) and a spank because The Missus don't write no smut without spanking

AN: god I love writing smut for this man oh uhhhh and merry Christmas :)

You're sat across from John, genuinely trying to focus but he's looking scrumptious in those flannel pants and low cut shirt.

"How many left to wrap?" You ask, slightly breathless, currently working on Simon's gift, wrapping carefully.

"Got Kyle's, Kate's, and then I think we're good," he responds, glancing back up at you before looking down at whatever he's wrapping.

You sigh, snipping with the scissors the wrapping paper, folding it up carefully. You aren't really... Focused, though. You're looking at his hands.

He watches you with a small chuckle, already finished with whatever he's wrapping.

"Johnny said 'e wants us t'wrap his gifts for Kyle, Kate, and Sim'n. Says 'is 'ands are real bad after the mission--chemical burns and the like," he mutters out, tilting his head as he watches you, flustered to be caught staring, trying to wrap with shakey little hands.

"Copy that," you mutter, setting the gift aside, grabbing the next one to start wrapping.

He lets out a soft hum, "'Ow 'bout whenever you're done with all that we take a little break, hm?" He offers, patting his thigh with one of those deliciously meaty hands.

You nod, squeaking slightly, "Yeah.. little break would b'nice."

You start to wrap a little quicker, fumbling slightly. He chuckles, watching how flustered you are. Once that present is done, he opens his arms, welcoming you with that smile.

He sets you down in his lap, plopping you down and wrapping his arms around you. He kisses from your jaw down your neck, placing little nips and kisses and licks, teasing you.

"J-John.." you mumble, shutting your eyes and putting both your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself upright.

"Yes, lovie?" He responds with a smirk.

"Y-ou're such a damn-" you're cut off by him sinking his teeth into the crook of your neck, sucking down and making you let out a gasp.

"I'm a what?" He asks, smirking as he goes back to just gentle, feathery kisses.

"A d-damn tease.." you whisper, taking a deep breath to try to hold yourself together. By now one of his hands is rubbing up and down your side, before it goes down to your thighs, rubbing up and down again.

"A damn tease? I'm teasin' ya, love?" He murmurs, finding another spot to suck on your neck. You gasp out, his hand finding your cunt.

You let out a tiny moan as his hand slips into your slick little slit, "Ya dirtry bird, 'uh? S'wet.. just from starin' a' me..." he growls into your ear with that smoky vibrato.

You nod, embarrassed, and your cheeks flush as he teases your clit, making you groan out.

He hears this little gaspy "Juh- John!" come from your lips, and that makes all his control slip.

He can't help but push all the presents and supplies and wrapping paper away, getting you on your hands and knees, slapping your ass after pulling your pajama pants down and those lacey little "panties" down, though he can hardly consider them anything when they leave *so little* to the imagination.

"Gonna pu' it in, yeah?" He says, kneeling behind you and starting to get undressed. He gets his pants off, his stomach slightly exposed, and then pulls his boxers off.

He teases his shaft up and down the crease from the very top of your ass to where your labia ends, making you shudder and mewl, embarrassed to be spread out somewhere so... public.

"Y-you're gonna wake someone u-" you try protesting, you really do, but then he slams his cock directly down into you, bottoming out in *seconds.*

It makes your elbows go weak, your back arch, those pretty eyes John loves to stare at go back, rolling into the sockets. You feel that *entire* girth that he's been working to get you to comfortably take all sheathed inside you at one and you can't help it, you let out a loud moan.

So, John covers your mouth with his hand, leaning down and kissing your shoulder, "Break's gotta be quie', birdie. You'll wake someone up," he taunt.

You nod, desperate, and it makes John chuckle and shake his head, kissing down your shoulder to the centre of your back, "Arse up in the air, atta girl.." he mumbles, making you arch your back into his length as much as you can.

He rubs up and down your back, making slow, easing thrusts into you. By now, his hand has been removed from your mouth because you're *already* cockdrunk on him because of how girthy and patronising he can be.

"S'pretty..." he praises, wiping a small dribble of drool from your mouth, a little "ah- ah- ah-" escaping your mouth as your ass stutters back into his rudely slow pace, cum flowing down slowly.

"Makin' a mess, huh bird?" He chuckles, rubbing your ass with one hand as the other holds your hip, gently groping your cheek as his thrusts start to ever so slightly speed up.

The change in pace makes your little "ahs!" get louder, a "Shush, darlin'... don' gotta get loud on my cock, huh?" escape his lips as he tries to shut you up.

After so long you think your brain might be leaking from your ears, maybe your third(? John has lost count at this rate) cumming falling from where you're both conjoined his hips start to stutter and his chest heaves. He lets out a few groans, harder thrusts that make you squeal coming from him.

His hips jerk a little more and a hand goes to your shoulder, pushing you back onto his cock as he spills himself inside of you. You let out a pretty moan, body going frail as you grin widely, fucked out.

He pulls out slowly, a little "plop" sound as his cum spills out and onto the ground. He helps you up, getting your panties on and those pajama pants and hoping that that is enough until you're upstairs and finished wrapping presents so he can *properly* give you aftercare.

"'Right, lovie.." he mumbles out, helping you sit on your ass as you catch your breath, "let's finish these presents up, yeah?"

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neoplatinum · 8 months ago

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can't remember to forget you - shakira | son chaeyoung

summary: is this love behind closed doors enough

pairing: guitarist!chaeyoung x fem!reader

themes: highschool au, weed, cigarettes, angst, fluff, music festival, rest of twice!, minor 2yeon, jooyeon and o.de from xdinary heroes

wc: 4.0k

a/n: FOR MY POOKIE WOOKIE CHAE'S POOKUMS (@nr1chaedickrider)

“do you know why she always carries that guitar?” momo’s watching chaeyoung walk across the field. that familiar brown guitar case strapped to the back of the girl’s back. like an attachment to her body. quick paces as she crosses the lawn with fishnets and platform boots on, layers of necklaces bouncing along in time with her steps.

that signature dark lipstick.

damn, she does look good.

you look away from her, trying your best to concentrate since the start of lunch.

“she told me it’s her soulmate.” sana says back, digging into her jacket for a sweet candy, continuing to watch as chaeyoung crosses the field towards the other end of the school. popping a small chocolate in her mouth. “don’t know what that means.”

then sana looks down at you.

“hey you’re friends with her right?”

you’ve been gripping your homework since momo spoke of her name. taking everything in you to stay still and not watch as your not-girlfriend walks past where you sat. and she knows exactly where you sit everyday for lunch, she knows this exact route like the back of her hand. but still she chooses to walk past it, she used to stop and wave to you discreetly before leaving. instead she’s plugged into her headphones and walking right into the building.

“yeah, chaeyoung.” you just respond, trying to read the biology homework in front of you. terms turning into characters when you try to re-read the same question. but you can’t focus when your not-girlfriend has been ignoring you lately.

“right, that’s her name!” momo exclaims. then sana and her are back to bickering like siblings, all the while you’re trying to read this question again.

the cell cycle?

sana and momo, god knows why, have managed to flip themselves onto the grass and have their hand in each other’s hair pulling at it. legs and arms all over the place like they’re stuck to each other. you watch them briefly, trying to scratch each other’s faces. without missing a beat you turn back to your paper.

trying to refocus on the homework. anaphase…anaphase?

writing a few more lines across the page and munching on momo’s apple slices. you find yourself thinking about that stupid fight a week ago. you visited chaeyoung in her room, strumming her black guitar in her living room. weed filling the air as she tried different chords for her latest piece. one that she was discreet about.

you had visited her after she called you asking for a smoke sesh. and who are you to deny yourself the wonders of that green bud.

more than anything, you love the haziness of watching her play her guitar. especially when she plays that electric one she keeps tucked away in her closet. the shine of that black and white electric over the body and her tattooed arms expertly bending notes. dark hair falling over her face, while she closes her eyes and just lets her hands play freely.

hand flowing along the neck of the guitar, landing fingers in different, other hand holding a lit joint between her fingers. the smoke rising to the air. you feel your eyelids heavier as you lean backwards in the loveseat.

watching the way the body is laid on her thigh, adjusting her playing every couple of seconds. sometimes playing the metal bar for some vibrato, the sounds ringing bending the sound through your ears. she knows how it sounds when she plays it, looking at you with a smirk as you take another hit.

her eyes are low too, she always felt like her musicality shines when she’s not in her head. letting the playing speak for herself. coupled with the blue LED in her room, you think she’s gorgeous. a sight reserved for yourself. exactly why you are stuck here nearly every night, out of your own will of course.

admiring the art that is son chaeyoung. even more of a treat you can listen to the art she produces.

“you smoke?” you stuff your hand into your pocket, looking up suddenly. seeing chaeyoung hiding out behind the back of the school. after ditching class you were looking to just relax away from school, rounding out the back of the school. trying to jump the gate out back. and here stood in front of you was son chaeyoung. the last girl you would want to talk to her.

she keeps to herself in class, usually doodling or plugged into her earbuds. never speaking up, but you didn’t judge. here she is behind the school, flicking the ash off the end of her cig, earbuds in and a lock necklace dangling as she continues to stare at you. crouched down and phone in hand. her guitar case propped against the brick wall.

she stares expectantly.

you don’t even know what to say, knowing her for barely a year and never speaking more than two words. she takes another puff, pushing her lips into a circle before aiming the smoke right into your face.

immediately you step backwards, eyes stinging a bit from the cloud. the grittiness hitting your eyes, making you rub them and then you’re coughing a bit. the smoke hitting the back of your throat. chaeyoung laughs a little, staring up at you. you finally look at her again after wiping your eyes.

“want to try?” she says pushing herself up, holding the cigarette out a bit. you stare at the lit bud, her painted nails, all black. and the way her hand is covered in silver rings. each one more intricate than the last. you nod lightly. looking back up at her.

her eyes are dazzling too, little browns under the sunlight. you completely forget what you said yes to. she brushes her hand through her hair, pushing it back. and then she pulls you towards her, hand around your neck, pulling you in like a magnet. other hand reaching towards herself, taking a breath in of the smoke. your eyes in a trance as the lit bud lights with orange and reds. then she takes it away.

her hand on your neck, snaking around to your chin, thumb pressed on your chin. until you drop your jaw. letting her move you like a puppeteer. eyes staring at your lips, blowing the smoke right into your mouth. letting that dark smell fill your mouth once more. the airiness of her breath makes your hair stand.

woah.

then she pushes her thumb up, closing your breath once more.

“breathe it out.”

you let it flow out of you, that putrid smell making you scrunch your nose. she watches you amusingly, like a newborn deer taking its first steps. you barely know what you’re doing, it’s kind of cute.

then she returns that hand back to your neck, dragging you in for a kiss. one that makes your body freeze all over. your senses are all failing when all you can feel is her tender lips on your own. a hand pulling you in closely, and the smell of that awful cigarette between you two. she lets go of you, amusement still filling her face.

you step back. she throws the case right over her shoulder and walks away from you, rounding the corner of the wall. you barely catch the sight of her guitar case when your body returns back to you. a curiosity building within you.

you’re trying your best to listen in, an ear pressed against the door. she’s always in this music room, room 202. every single lunch she’s here, using the school amp to play her music. you know this because you’re the only one she’s told you about this spot. made you swear to secrecy, if anyone else were to find out that she played here, it would ruin her charm as she says.

like an obedient dog, you agreed. she doesn’t let you inside though, she never does. feeling so dumb for waiting outside like a kicked puppy, you’re ready to leave when you hear her singing.

since when was she able to sing?

a soft voice pulling at your heart, how you long to hear her voice again. standing outside with your hands stuffed into your pockets. listening to the girl in your heart vocalize through the confined walls.

you walk away from the room, tucking a cigarette between your lips as you walk outside.

some days are better than others, good days are when you can visit chaeyoung in her garage. watching her slide her hands across her favorite guitar. admiring the artwork draping the walls, like a cavern of her mind. a constant reminder of her artistic style and creativity.

stepping into the garage you can already smell the weed that’s been circulating the air. taking a second to breathe in that familiar scent before closing the garage door right behind you. chaeyoung is sat on her favorite amp. littered in her own artwork and spray paint by the lovely artist herself.

her head tilted down as she continued to play through different chords, each one prettier than the last. a pick between her lips as she concentrates on nailing the next measure. she’s beautiful like this, her favorite bunny tucked right at the base of the amplifier.

tossing the backpack onto her worn couch, you plop right in front of her. watching the way her nail polish shines in the lowlight of an old studio light. she gives you a small nod as she continues to play. eyes never leaving yours, even as her hands move quickly along the guitar.

you grab the joint that’s been lying next to her, taking a deep hit as she watches you. red across the whites in her eyes.

you lean back, letting the smoke go up, watching the cloud in the air as she continues to play. until she stops. setting the guitar down on her stand. and grabbing your hand, pulling you up.

“i missed you.” she explains, grabbing ahold of your neck, pulling you against her.

you let your body fall against hers, laying your head against her shoulders. her arms moving to wrap around your. both of you slowly rocking in her garage.

“i missed you too chaeyoung.” you reply softly. letting the weight of today off your body. and she continues to sway you in her arms. it’s warm, her hugs are always so warm. and today more than anything you need her near.

“tell me about your day.” she says softly, letting you continue to lean against her.

“it was tiring, you know how work usually is.” you explain, pulling her against you as you wrap your arms around hers too. “oh you missed it, jeongyeon confessed to nayeon today.”

you stand back up, and chaeyoung stares at you, nodding slowly as she sits into the couch. grabbing her favorite strawberry glass cup as she drinks it.

“good for them.” she says, placing the cup back onto the coffee table. you watch the way she stares at her guitar. reddish eyes that don’t look at yours.

sitting down next to her she barely lifts an inch to look at you. busy grabbing her music papers off the ground. stuffing them into her folder as she leans back. and you do the same. letting your eyes watch the ceiling fan. a constant rotating, almost like it’s stuck in a loop. and really you can feel yourself feeling the same.

the way that all you can do is wave at chaeyoung at school. restricted to the confines of these four walls to showcase your affection to your girlfriend. a reminder that the relationship that you two have only exists in this small space.

“chaeyoung, i want to be official.” you say gently, head turned to the side as you watch her side profile.

“baby, we are official.” she says, taking a hit from her joint.

“not to other people we aren’t.” you say, looking at her folded hands and the light thumping of her foot. “you won’t hold my hand in public, you won’t kiss me in public. why’s that?”

chaeyoung stares at you, eyes more opened as she watches you.

“why won’t you let my friends know about us?” you say with a bite. watching the way she continues to stare at you. lost in her own thoughts to offer up a response.

“i thought what we had here is okay.”

“i want more chaeyoung, you knew this.”

you explain, watching the slight twitch in her eyebrows.

the fiddling of her hands on her shirt.

“i don’t know.” you hear, and just like that you grab your backpack, tossing it over your shoulder as you exit the garage.

ignoring the pain in your chest as chaeyoung doesn’t bother to call out to you.

jeongyeon and nayeon are bickering like idiots in front of you. trying to step on each other’s calves to make each other fold over. you want to join in with them but lately, the fight with chaeyoung (if you can even call it that) has taken over your mind. instead you stand quietly next to mina. both of you watching the two girls, your arms folded over each other as you both walk in line for the music festival.

a little buzzing throughout your body.

the line continues to move forward and you can hear the distant music in the background. the loud chatter of everyone in line along with people lining the fields distracting you from the loneliness that’s been erupting in your heart.

drowning out the sounds like a muffled speaker, until your feet reach the front of the line. a fellow classmate staring at your student ID expectantly. a scanner in their hand, and you show it to them. taking a second to look at the enclosed festival space. with a quick scan, you move forward into the area. a large open field crowded with excited students buzzing at the talents that will be showcasing their skills on stage tonight.

the heat beating on your skin, a light layer of sweat setting. the smell of grilled foods enticing the senses of jeongyeon and nayeon. them waving you and mina as they stumble away to the food stands.

mina’s pulling you through the crowd, slotting you two in a small open space. eyes forwards towards the stage. the sight of the fellow classmates on stage, pushing and placing microphones around the stage. long metal pipes laid around the giant black stage, light strobes hung along the top facing the performers.

you keep picking at your skin, quickly grabbing a cigarette to slot between your lips. not lighting it but keeping it between your teeth as you roll it around. looking around hopefully for a head of blonde hair and that signature guitar case. instead you spot momo and sana in the back, giggling with each other before jumping to scare an unsuspecting jihyo.

you turn back around facing the stage. arms crossed as your eyes land on everyone huddled closely. tapping your finger against your phone as you beg for it to vibrate. anything for a sign of thought from chaeyoung. she hasn’t answered your message from days ago, a clear indication she was retreating back into her shell.

one that you often have to pull her out of, it’s just worse knowing that you are the reason why she’s retreating back.

you take another at the stage when you begin to notice the lights starting up, like a strobe light illuminating the dark stage. and out steps the administration, welcoming in the school spring festival.

you stare at your fellow classmates, some band members you can remember from your class. there’s jooyeon and o.de from english, along with their bandmates. eyes gleaming in the sun as they await their set.

the crowd shouts as they continue their set. and through all the pop rock songs the sun continues to set into the night. the low buzz of people talking and laughing filling the night air. jeongyeon, nayeon and jihyo promptly rejoining you in the crowd of people. softly singing along to the covers of the songs.

you watch as jeongyeon has her arms wrapped around nayeon. keeping her swaying in her arms. a deep feeling of longing in your heart as you stare at them. you even begin to feel a tear form before you snap out of it. the wind picking up as you continue to sing with mina. jooyeon and o.de giving their ending remarks and exiting offstage.

you turn to mina, offering her a light smile when she sees your distraught face all throughout the set.

while you’re busy reassuring mina that you’re okay, a head of blonde enters the stage. jihyo and jeongyeon are busy fussing and bumping into you. making you turn your sight to chaeyoung up on stage. the dark lipstick that she always sports on her face. along with that guitar pick necklace you gifted her as one of your first gifts.

the red of the mic in her hand and that guitar that she treasures most.

you wonder if she treasures you in the same way.

people have begun to notice her on stage. everyone knows of chaeyoung, but few knew her truly. they didn’t know how she liked to sleep with that exact bunny by her side every night. they didn’t know the way she liked her coffee. they certainly didn’t know about that tattoo on her back. they don’t know how hard she pours her heart into every song she makes.

they don’t know her like you do.

she takes center stage, eyes a little weary as she stares into the crowd. letting them sweep across the crowd. biting on her guitar pick as she stares out. and with a small huff she sits herself on the wooden stool. taking the time to adjust the mic stand. guitar laying on her body gently.

a reminder of every little ritual that you see when chaeyoung plays her guitar, all in front of your school to see.

staring at her as your body stills. not even the sight of jihyo and nayeon in your peripheral vision distracting you from your girlfriend.

“hello, i’m chaeyoung.” she scoots herself further back onto the stool. you can hear the cheers from the crowd. they’ve never seen her perform in public in all the years that she’s carried that guitar on her back.

everyone’s begging for a glimpse into what you admire so often.

“i know a lot of you have seen me with my guitar and wondered what i sing about? what i play about? who i play for?” she says, eyes continuing to stare into the crowd. she stutters a bit when her eyes land on you. hand gripping onto the red mic a little tighter.

“this song that i wrote, i wrote this based on my own feelings, and i wrote it for someone. please listen.” she says, taking a deep breath as she tucks a leg over another. letting the guitar rest it’s curve onto her thigh as she adjusts herself.

“this song is called ‘cant remember to forget you’, please enjoy.”

there’s light cheers and whistles as chaeyoung readies herself.

and I left a note on my bedpost

saying not to repeat yesterday's mistakes

what I tend to do when it comes to you

her voice rings out clearer than the sound of water drops. the speakers hitting your ears as if she’s singing it to you. like all things that remind you of chaeyoung, one thing is the constant sticky notes in her room. dedicated to remembering the things that she cherishes most, one of which was the first note that she wrote to you, asking you to be her girlfriend.

her eyes closed as she feels the music, hands moving along the guitar, and you can feel it, the emotions through her singing. a deep feeling as she nearly gets choked up. pushing through it to continue to sing. everyone around is swaying to her playing.

her eyes landing on yours once more.

she’s singing this to you.

only to you.

the way you make me feel, yeah

you got a hold on me, i never met someone so different

the way she continues to slide her hands over the different frets. standing up quickly when she feels the emotions running through her too. eyes ablaze as she pours into her emotions. people are getting into the song, everyone’s cheering loudly and staring at her. but she can only focus on you. the way tears are falling off your face. the way the lights shine on your face.

this song was made for you.

and only you.

the only memory is us kissing in the moonlight

oh-oh ooh oh, oh-oh ooh oh

i can't remember to forget you

the memories of running down the sidewalks. laughing loudly as her hands were in yours. a box of takeout in hand and flowers in another. the memory of her slowing you down to give you a kiss under the moonlight.

every memory of your love under the moonlight, or under studio lights. love that only you two knew. tucked away from the world and those around you two. she rocks into the beat of the song, letting her playing get her into the feeling.

the way you make me feel, yeah

you got a hold on me, I never met someone so different

her eyes are shining with tears too as she stares at you, you continue to stare at her. the way she can’t hold herself back when she’s singing. you’ve never heard her so vulnerable and open. a declaration of the feelings that she keeps away from others. and sometimes even you in turn.

there’s tears in her eyes but she keeps singing to you. like all great artists they need a muse, and for chaeyoung.

it’s you.

I can't remember to forget you.

she plays the last note, letting it fizzle out, and then the crowd erupts into a roar. everyone who ever thought she was strange for carrying her guitar everywhere is cheering in admiration. chaeyoung’s a talented artist. you knew this firsthand, but now everyone else knows it too.

the roaring in your ear feels like it’s muted, you can’t even hear them anymore. just the feeling of tears rolling freely, as she stares at you. her breath through the mic as she stares you down. that bunny hung onto the stand. she want you to know this song, it’s only for you.

only for you.

more people are cheering her on, begging for another song, erupting in chants of her name.

“i’m only performing this song. i hope it reached the person i wanted it to reach.” she says. grabbing ahold of her mic, guitar, and tucking the bunny under her arm. taking a short bow before exiting off the stage. using the sleeves of her shirt to wipe the tears off.

mina’s offering a tissue to you silently, and you wipe your tears away as she looks away. a sweet smile on her face as you excuse yourself to find chaeyoung.

eyes a little blurry from the tears as you head off the side of the stage. seeing her blonde hair in the crowd. she looks gorgeous. and then she spots you, running up to you. throwing her arms around you as she pulls you into a kiss.

taking the time to continue to kiss you even as you feel you nearly fall over. loud cheers and gasps as more people spot chaeyoung kissing you fiercely.

she leaves the kiss, eyes still filled with some tears but then she smiles at you.

“is this official enough?” chaeyoung smirks before pulling you into another kiss.

yeah, this is more than enough.

-- a/n: very late chae day fic hahaha !! sorry about that !! this is for my angst luver <33 angst4chaespookums lives on. stay safe and stay healthy everyone

#chaeyoung #chaeyoung x reader #twice chaeyoung #chaeyoung twice #son chaeyoung #twice x you #twice x reader #twice #kpop imagines #angst4chae'spookums #neoplatinum

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disappointmentofthefam · 10 months ago

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Love? Love. (part 2)

Andy Barber x Reader

warnings-age gap,slow burn,smut

i hope yall enjoy this, i wrote it from the pit of despair.

p.s.- i promise you dom daddy andy is cumming soon ;)

..................................................................................................................

The night following the fateful events of Andy sweating like a damn teenager after meeting y/n had resulted in restless sleep sprinkled with incessant thoughts of her. Did she have a boyfriend? hmm that would be bad But the thought of her being available is somehow worse damn it Andrew! You are not a silly little boy anymore, you are a grown ass man and you can talk to a girl without giggling and kicking your feet in the air! As the morning rolled in, it seemed like Andy's prayers were answered as a smiling Y/n was once again at his doorstep. she looked different in the morning, somehow more majestic.Still in her sleep shorts and her hair in a messy bun. lips looked plumper somehow, hints of slumber still in her eyes. "Good morning Andy", she grumbles. " Good morning, angel," Andy tries to test the waters, "missed me so soon?" fuck! I sound like a creep! maybe I should jus- His thoughts are interrupted with a soft giggle, "Yes, Mr. Barber, you couldn't possibly fathom how hard it was for me to spend all that time away from you", she rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless. there's some truth to it, she couldn't exactly shrug of the feeling of….. um…. Andy from her heart and her mind and especially her pussy. the low vibrato of his voice was enough to cause her to flood with heat and arousal, "yes Andy! right there", His tongue lapping at my cilt I bet he's a fucking munch when it comes to eating out I bet he's a biter I bet he'd slap my face with it I bet he was one for holding me down and pounding me into the mattress I bet he'd cum in m- GIRL- IT'S 9 IN THE MORNING

She does that thing again, where she tries to divert her eyes from the man in front of her, "um, I think the mailman might have accidentally delivered our stuff to you." The sudden shyness in her demeanor doesn't go unnoticed by Andy's watchful eyes. "I just had Jacob bring in the mail, why don't you come in and make yourself comfortable while you sort through the stuff?", he ushers her inside. Jacob's eyes light up as he sees her, "Y/n! I was just thinking about you! my chemistry grades are sooooo tanked and i need your help", he looks at Andy, "Dad, would it be alright if y/n tutored me?" "Sure, Jake, I mean if she finds time in her schedule", they look at y/n for an answer. " Sure thing, I'm free by 6 p.m. on weekdays after classes, I think I could fit you in around…seven?" "Done", Jacob smiles at her as he grabs his school bag and slings it over his shoulder, " I'll see you tomorrow then? at seven?". "Yeah, at seven". " Bye dad, love you." "Love you too." With that Andy and Y/n fall into a comfortable silence as she sorts through the mail and separates the ones meant for her house. "Can i ask you something?" Andy breaks the silence. "You just did", y/n smirks at him. " Okay, smartass," Andy can't help but smile at her 12-year-old-boy-esquè-humor. "Can i ask you two things then, " Andy leans forward from opposite to her on the dining table, enjoying the back and forth between them. "Go ahead, jeez it's like a question paper come to life",y/n bites her lower lip in anticipation. Andy tries a more casual, less creepy approach, "How do you find the time to tutor after coming home from college? I mean you wouldn't have time for other things like for example, uhh a boyfriend." Y/n's cheeks turn red and she again diverts her attention from Andy, "I don't have one, Mr. Barber"

The admission makes Andy's stomach flutter with a sense of relief and something else…..a wave of pure and primal desire. She looks up at Andy with a flustered smile and lustful, hooded eyes, looking like the perfect mix of a nymph and a virgin, "is that what you wanted to know Andy? because let me tell you, you weren't being very subtle." she teases. "What if I did, sweets? What if I wanted to know if there was a limpy ,lacking frat boy who was doing nothing but disappointing you every time he touched you?" Andy's eyes go darker, the blue ring of his eyes being engulfed by his blown out pupils. "Well then Mr. Barber, let me tell you that i don't have any frat boys disappointing me at night," she leans in closer, so much that Andy can feel her warm breath on his lips, "what are you gonna do about it?" Almost.

This six letter word was the bane of Andy Barber's existence. She was so close, I could smell the faint smell of vanilla on her skin. She was so close, I could see the tiny freckles by her nose. She was so close, so, so close. Our lips almost touched Almost. Suddenly, the door opens and then shuts close and the sounds of progressing footsteps breaks them apart. "Hey, I just forgot my phone here." Jacob doesn't question the awkwardness in the room as he grabs his phone and leaves once again. In a frenzy, Y/n collects her mail and leaves for the door too, "I'm sorry if I overstepped Andy, I swear it won't happen again." Her voice small and choked, but I fucking hope it does happen again and again and again and again Amused by her nervousness, Andy tries to speak, but before he can get her attention, she has already left. Well she'd be here again at seven tomorrow, right?

#andy barber smut #andy barber x reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale smut #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x reader #andy barber #chris evans characters #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut

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butmakeitgayblog · 5 months ago

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It's not talked about a lot in the fandom but I love how high pitched Lexa's voice is. I know Alycia tried her damned hardest to make it low and intimidating but damn that's the best it can do 😳 she looked hot af as Big Bad HedaTM but the moment she spoke on screen with her unmistakable "oh yeah that's Alycia" voice......... I was a GONER. Like the video of "not everyone, not you" you just posted?? Like somehow I never remember exactly how feminine she sounds when I'm reading fanfics 😂

Because Alycia quite literally was the perfect little delicate bean to play that role 😩

Not to get off subject but like, that's part of why I'd never want a spinoff. No one can play this character but Alycia. No one.

Because I feel like Alycia understood the assignment. In a way a lot of other actors probably wouldn't have, imo. She didn't strain to be something she wasn't or try to add a bunch of vibrato and bass to her voice, because that wasn't the kind of person Lexa was. She could do it to a degree, we see it in the scene when they believe Gus has been poisoned and she commands "No Skaiperson leaves this room!" But even then, filled with anger and fear of losing a confidant and father figure in her life... she still sounds like a young woman who is also just a pissed off leader. Alycia didn't strain to make it gravelier or darker. Because her power in that character doesn't come from false pretenses. She doesn't overtly or heavy handedly try and masculinize herself to convey strength. While I don't think there's anything wrong with that approach by any means, it just isn't always necessary.

And I know there is an argument to be made about them feminizing her even further in s3 for various sexist reasons, I do. But I still appreciated the overall performance and portrayal for what it was because despite all of the show's flaws (which were numerous 😒), letting a powerful woman figure be thoughtlessly and unremarkably feminine while also being a bad bitch just isn't something we see a lot imo. Usually if they're feminine, they're shrinking violets who are just shy and dainty and reserved. Stronger figures tend to be more masculine. More solid. More rigid. Deeper voices. Less feelings.

Lexa, however, was really none of those things when you truly look at her, despite the fact that she was unquestionably a larger than life presence on screen. She beat the shit of men twice her size and stood toe-to-toe with her enemies, commanded armies and led 12 warring nations under her iron fist leadership, she lost everyone she ever cared about and had her heart broken more times than she could count and still she dared to let herself fall in love again. Lexa was strong and she was vulnerable, she was lethal and she loved deeply. She was timeless and just a young woman trying her best to be a leader. Lexa was so many things all at once, and I appreciate the fact that Alycia didn't really bog it down with trying to convey her as something she wasn't.

And she did it all with that sweet dainty voice and her post apocalypse contacts and also impeccable eyeliner 💅

#anon #lexa kom trikru #i actually do sometimes remember just down smol she is when reading fics #like I'll write “Lexa boomed” something and then think “... yeah ok sure she did Andi 🥴 I'm sure she tried her best tho”

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crepe-of-wrath · 1 year ago

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Sleeping-bag Shouta Saturday

Notes/Warnings: 18+; fem reader; some dom vibes from Aizawa; I should never have congratulated myself for a long writing streak b/c now I'm being punished for hubris and feel like i"m in a huge rut (and not the a/b/o kind)

You had vowed to take advantage of one common thing--Shouta having to stay at work late--and one uncommon thing--you waking up anything close to 'early'--to do the needful and clean that damn sleeping bag.

Honestly, it was less gross than you thought it would be, given that he primarily used it at a school and when having to stay out on city streets for hero work (you weren't sure which environment was more germy), and you began to attack the outside with a stiff fabric brush in preparation for the actual washing.

You didn't realize it at first, but you were leaning rather lower than necessary as you vigorously brushed away some of the caked on dust and dirt. You simply murmured "oh fuck" under your breath when you realized that you were doing this because the inside of the bag smelled like him...

* Shouta was rarely genuinely surprised, but he absolutely did not expect to walk into the apartment and see you curled up in his sleeping bag like it was a blanket. A lewd thought floated into his head, and he picked you up and carried you and the bag to the bedroom.

You had definitely woken up not long after Shouta placed you on the bed, but it excited you to pretend you were asleep, so you let your body stay limp as he moved it into the sleeping bag. When it became clear he intended to join you, your eyes flew open, blowing your own ruse.

"Well, good evening," he said, as he pulled up the zipper, making it pitch black. Now, you could only feel the vibrato of his voice and the brush of his breath tickling against your cheek. "Busy day?"

"Not as busy as it should have been," you said. "What time is it?"

"Who cares?" Shouta said, as he proceeded to place kisses over every part of you that he could access. He took advantage of the dark to keep on surprising you, making your skin prickle and heat up in anticipation. Occasionally, the kisses would be little nips, and sometimes deeper kisses.

"I'm going to be covered in marks!" you said.

"I know. It's going to be so fucking hot."

"You're tickling!!"

Shouta forcefully pressed his body into you. "What are you going to do about it, baby? I don't think you're going to do much"--he paused to lean down to gently suck on your neck and shoulder--"because you're mine right now, aren't you? And you fucking love it."

You could only make little whimpers and moans in reply.

He was getting very worked up now, very handsy, pinching and groping your hips and your ass, and started rolling his hips against your center. You cried out and squirmed to try and escape the pressure and the edging.

"Stay still," he snarled, bringing up a hand to the back of your neck. "Or I'll fucking tie you up and you really won't be able to move." You gave out your loudest cry of the night and your body trembled a little.

"Patience, angel," he whispered in your ear. "Just let me play with your body and be in control just how I like and I"ll give you the best reward, my sweet girl, my good girl."

You were barely able to babble out a 'yes' amid all your little wanton sounds. You felt him smile in triumph.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #bnha aizawa #aizawa x y/n #aizawa smut

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xitty · 5 months ago

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Visual Prison was all kinds of awesome but Guilty Cross is just... transcendental. You must understand that I was a visual kei girlie and this hits all the right places. And Makoto Furukawa, damn, his voiiiice and that vibrato. Uuuuhhh...

#look at the pattern of me being obsessed w the one song a fictional band's old iteration has in their franchise #i loooove old re:vale's mikansei na bokura #and genuine revelation brings me to tears. aaaaa... old fine broke the one song curse though thank you origin altered #also btw toshiki masuda already goes hard in enstars concerts but damn watch the visual prison cast live #soooo showy and uh i was worried about his voice at times #visual prison i miss you #also why the fuck can't you put the full versions of the songs on streaming?!#it's been three years!#visual prison #SoundCloud

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runawaymun · 7 months ago

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i'm very obsessed with your depiction of Song in and the stars shine the same. you write it with such a different feel for each character, if that makes sense? especially since it's always been to me such a difficult concept to portray well in fic. i've been wondering, what do you think everyone's Singing is like, if you've thought about it? whether just as like the general feel to it to a bystander/listener, or just purely sound qualities, like i seem to remember glorfindel's baritone singing voice as a thing a lot of people would write.

i'm very sorry if this was asked/discussed before however i am...well not *new* but it's been years since i was active around lotr/silm tumblr. i am rapidly getting pulled back in to fan spaces it would seem. anyways. <3

Ahhhh oh wow! What a cool ask this is! Thank you so much. Playing with Song and Music and Themes in my fics is one of my favorite things to do. Songs of Power are just soooo damn cool I can't help myself. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to respond to this, I've just been trying to compile my thoughts! Buckle up cause this is gonna get kind of long.

Elrond is easiest for me to nail down for obvious reasons. I've dug into his Music the most out of everyone, but it feels different to different people. For a lot of elves it can be very overwhelming because there is just SO much going on in his Theme. A lot of syncopation and dissonance (in the best possible way. Just super fun note combinations). Usually his Music is quite steady and calming. Generally I think of his actual singing voice to sound like Colin O'Malley does in Thomas Bergensen's Sonera. Strong and open-sounding and just....the slight rasp but like it's still so gorgeous and hngggggg. Though, with Rings of Power (or just a younger) Elrond specifically I imagine more like Reeve Carney's voice -- especially as Orpheus in Hadestown. Again you get that bright, open sort of voice but there's a sweetness and a vibrato to Reeve's voice that I just adore for a young Elrond!

Gil-Galad is another character whose music I have thought about a whole bunch (mostly in contrast to Elrond's, due to To Partake), and he has a very even quarter-time beat and just. Idk he sounds and feels so orderly and steady and kind of brassy to me. I don't have headcannons on his singing voice, though.

Celebrimbor also has an even quarter-time beat but his music is more relaxed and there's room in it for play. Like it has a swing beat every once in a while, and in general he just has this very big, open, echoing feeling. Like he is just huge idk. Music that just thunders around your ears in the best possible way. I also don't have a headcannoned sound for his singing voice yet but in general I think it would be pretty low.

Maglor is different for me depending on pre or post Oath, in terms of his actual Theme. Pre Oath there is a lot of interest and complexity, and post Oath that sort of gets drowned out by the overlaying Theme of the Oath (which feels horribly loud, with this plodding sort of beat that gets faster and faster the more Oath-madness is upon the Feanorians). His singing voice is like Joey Batey from The Amazing Devil. The way that Joey is capable of singing with this gorgeous, soulful, sweet voice and then he can turn on a dime to sound like he's about to tear someone to shreds and you're pretty sure that nobody should be able to sing THAT fucking loud without breaking their vocal chords? The RANGE? The way his voice just sends shivers up your spine? Yeah. Maglor.

Galadriel I don't have much on because she is kind of an enigma to me. But I think there would definitely be an aspect of her Theme that would put you on edge. As far as her singing voice go, I actually wrote Convergence I while listening to "Sonera" and yeah the male voice in Sonera I headcannon as Elrond, and the female voice I headcannon as Galadriel for that specific scene. In general though, I tend to hear her voice as sounding like Kate St. Pierre in Hurt by Thomas Bergensen.

Celebrian has a lot of strings and flutes in her theme to me. It's orderly but more like a 3/4 time signature. The kind of thing you want to dance to or listen to while you're taking a long walk. Mostly high notes. Her singing voice sounds like the the female part in Sun and Moon (which I would like to find out who that is but unfortunately I can not seem to find her credited anywhere). Like it's pretty but there's this sort of untamed edge to her voice, just a bit. (Also I am a big fat nerd about Sun and Moon because a) Cel and Elrond are sun and moon coded to me and b) the male voice which is actually the song's composer sounds CLOSE enough to my headcannoned Elrond singing voice that I can sit back and imagine they're singing a duet haha)

Arwen is like a mix between her parents. She's got that 3/4 beat like Cel but there IS a bit of syncopation from Elrond in there, but similar sort of harps/strings vibes. Purple, to me. I do not know how to explain what purple even means or sounds like in this context asdlkgh. But her voice sounds like Eurielle - very much thinking about Luthien's Lament, specifically.

I unfortunately do not have a lot of headcannons for Elladan and Elrohir yet but we'll get there quite shortly with boundless sky.

Luthien has the sort of voice that will just fucking blow your socks off. I know she sang Morgoth to sleep blah blah but girl has power in that voice and the world's most ridiculous range. I am thinking specifically of ghost love score. And yes, her Theme sounds like orchestral metal. Sauron fucking hates it.

Morgoth is jazz. That is all I have to say on that.

That's all of the people I have nailed down as to what they sound like! Thank you SO much for this ask. It was so much fun to respond to!

#elrond #gil galad #celebrimbor #maglor #celebrian #arwen #luthien #songs of power #beneath a boundless sky #headcannons #the silmarillion

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shewasverynice · 19 days ago

Text

Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen

⚠️ SPOILER HEAVY ⚠️

Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Full tags/warnings on Chapter links post

Major Characters: Original Character, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Ieiri Shoko, Yaga Masamichi, Nanami Kento, Haibara Yu, Tsukumo Yuki, Choso

‎‧₊˚✧ Chapter 19 ✧˚₊‧

Suguru’s dorm room was filled with a quiet excitement as Sarah finished arranging pillows around the low wooden table in the center of the room. “Perfect,” she declared, stepping back to admire her handiwork. Her eyes flicked to the red velvet cake sitting proudly on the table, the candles unlit but ready for their moment.

On the other side of the room, Satoru was precariously balanced on the edge of a chair, tongue poking out in concentration as he tied the last of the streamers to the curtain rod. “Almost there—” he muttered before the end slipped through his fingers.

“Damn it—”

“Shut up!" Shoko hissed, shushing him sharply as she crouched by the cake, a lighter in hand. “Do you want to ruin the surprise?” She flicked the lighter, coaxing each little wick into a tiny flame.

Satoru grumbled under his breath but managed to secure the streamer without further mishap. “Why are these things so fiddly?” he muttered, hopping down and brushing imaginary dust off his pants like he hadn’t just wrestled with crepe paper for ten minutes.

“Because you suck,” Sarah teased, tossing a pillow at him. He caught it with one hand, smirking.

Before Satoru could retort, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. “He’s coming!” Shoko whispered, blowing out the lighter and shoving it into her pocket.

The three of them scrambled into position as the doorknob turned. Suguru stepped into the room, his sharp features softening into a surprised smile as Sarah, Shoko, and Satoru jumped to their feet.

“Happy birthday!” they shouted in unison, their voices echoing off the dorm’s plain walls.

Suguru blinked, then laughed, his shoulders shaking as he took in the room. Streamers crisscrossed overhead, candles flickered atop the cake, and the table was surrounded by a fortress of plush pillows. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was cozy and warm—perfect.

“Wow,” he said, stepping fully into the room. “You guys did all this for me?”

“Of course!” Sarah said, grinning.

Satoru was already beside him, plonking a red party hat onto his head with a smug grin. “You’re lucky I remembered your favorite flavor,” he said, feigning nonchalance.

“Thank you, Satoru,” Suguru said sincerely, his eyes warm as they met his friend’s. Satoru’s ears turned faintly pink, and he coughed, suddenly very interested in fiddling with the edge of a streamer.

They all settled around the table, Suguru sitting cross-legged at the center. Shoko nudged the cake closer to him. “Make a wish,” she said with a small smile.

As they sang, their voices ranged from Sarah’s energetic enthusiasm to Satoru’s overly dramatic vibrato, and Suguru laughed through most of it. When the song ended, he leaned forward and blew out the candles in one smooth breath.

The room erupted in applause, and Satoru nudged him playfully. “Hope you didn't waste a good wish, those things don't come cheap,” he said with a smirk.

“Thanks for the reminder,” Suguru said dryly, though his grin betrayed his amusement. “Really, though—thank you, all of you. This is… amazing.”

As the last crumbs of cake disappeared, Satoru pushed himself to his feet with a mischievous grin that immediately put everyone on high alert. “Alright, birthday boy,” he announced, stepping over to his bed, “You didn’t think we were done, did you?”

Suguru raised an eyebrow. “There’s more?”

“Oh, there’s more.” Satoru bent down and hauled out a stack of board games so tall it nearly toppled as he wrestled it onto the table. “Ta-da!” he said triumphantly, dusting off his hands.

Suguru’s jaw dropped as he took in the eclectic pile of boxes. “Wait—these are all the games I mentioned?” he asked, pointing at the stack.

“Every. Single. One.” Satoru beamed, leaning on the stack like it was his crowning achievement. “And we’re playing all of them before curfew.”

Suguru chuckled, shaking his head, “I didn’t mean literally all of them, Satoru. I just said they sounded fun.”

“Uh-uh,” Satoru interrupted, wagging a finger. “You said you wanted to try them, and I, being the thoughtful and generous friend I am, made that happen. No take-backs.”

Sarah piped up, clapping her hands once for emphasis. “Exactly! It’s your birthday, Suguru, so we’re doing this for you. If you want a twelve-hour board game marathon, then we’ll give you a twelve-hour board game marathon.” She plopped onto a pillow, crossing her arms with mock determination. “Don’t even try to argue. This is happening."

“Not that it’s even that much to ask,” Shoko chimed in, leaning back on her hands, “You could’ve been way greedier, honestly. Like, where’s the outrageous demands? The unreasonable requests? We’re practically getting off easy here.”

Suguru rubbed the back of his neck, clearly flustered but grinning all the same. “You guys are ridiculous," he murmured.

“And you,” Satoru said, dramatically flinging open the top game box and pulling out a deck of cards, “are about to lose spectacularly at every single one of these.”

“Oh, please,” Suguru shot back, leaning forward to grab the instructions, "You can barely follow the rules to Uno, let alone anything with actual strategy.”

“Hey, rude!” Satoru gasped, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded, “You’re just scared of my superior gaming skills.”

“You don’t have those for everything,” Sarah chimed in.

“Agreed,” Shoko added, smirking.

The room quickly filled with laughter as they started setting up the first game, Suguru dramatically narrating every step while Sarah sorted pieces with an intensity that rivaled a world championship. Shoko, shaking her head but smiling all the while, leaned back against a pillow.

“Alright, fine,” Suguru said, watching his friends bicker good-naturedly over who got to pick their player piece first. “Let’s do this.”

“Damn right we will!” Satoru crowed, raising a fist in the air.

And so the night unfolded in a flurry of dice rolls, questionable alliances, and far too much competitive banter. Suguru didn’t stop smiling once—not even when Satoru flipped the board after losing to Sarah for the third time in a row.

But soon enough room was no longer the picture of lighthearted fun. The four friends sat huddled around the low table, leaning closer and closer as the board for Pandemic became a web of red, blue, and yellow cubes threatening to overtake their carefully laid plans. The stakes were high—Tokyo was on the verge of falling, Atlanta was a lost cause, and someone had just drawn an epidemic card.

“Okay, okay,” Satoru muttered, squinting at his hand of cards like it would suddenly reveal some miracle solution. “If I can get to Delhi, I can clear it before the outbreak spreads—”

“Assuming you don’t roll a three and accidentally make it worse,” Sarah cut in, her voice sharp but teasing as she arranged her cards on the table.

“Have a little faith!” Satoru protested, puffing out his chest.

“You rolled a three last turn,” Shoko deadpanned, pushing a stray strand of hair out of her face as she leaned over the board. “And the turn before that.”

“Hey, dice are unpredictable!” Satoru huffed, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips betrayed his enjoyment of the chaos.

Suguru, calm and composed as always, tapped his fingers on the table. “If we don’t act fast, the game’s over. Shoko, can you get to Kinshasa on your turn? That might buy us some time.”

“Assuming I survive long enough to take my turn,” she muttered, glancing at the ticking timer that was the outbreak track.

The tension was thick as Sarah stared down at her cards, biting her lip. Everyone watched her, waiting to see what move she would make. And then—

“Nope!” she said suddenly, slamming her cards down and flopping onto her back dramatically. “I’m done. The disease got me. I’m out.”

The room was silent for a beat, then Satoru burst into laughter, tossing his cards onto the table. “You’re just giving up? That’s it?”

“I’m over it!” Sarah declared, lying on the floor with her arms crossed over her chest like a vampire in a coffin. “I’ve succumbed to the plague. Let me rest in peace.”

Suguru chuckled, setting his cards aside and crawling over to where Sarah lay. “If you’re going out, we might as well make it official,” he said, clearing his throat dramatically. “Ladies and gentlemen, we gather here today to mourn Sarah, taken too soon by the Great Pandemic of 2024. She fought bravely but ultimately decided—”

“—she couldn’t be bothered anymore,” Shoko finished, smirking as she joined them on the floor.

“Shoko gets me,” Sarah said from her ‘grave,’ her voice muffled by the pillow gently placed over her face by Shoko.

Satoru scooted closer, his laughter barely contained as he propped his chin on his hand. “I’d like to add that she was also terrible at following directions and made some very questionable moves throughout the game," he added.

“Excuse me?” Sarah snapped, sitting up just enough to glare at him, "I’m dead. You can’t insult the dead. That's some bullshit.”

“Oh, I definitely can,” Satoru shot back, grinning. “It’s called honest reflection.”

Suguru waved them down, ever the peacekeeper. “Enough! Let’s not tarnish her memory.” He paused for dramatic effect, steepling his fingers. “Sarah was… well, she was here. And she tried her best.”

Sarah groaned, flopping back down. “You’re all the worst. I’m haunting this dorm," she declared, "When I become a ghost you'll all see."

“Bring it on, ghost girl,” Satoru teased, nudging her foot.

The seriousness of the game was long forgotten as the group dissolved into laughter, the board abandoned and the outbreak track climbing unchecked. Even Shoko cracked a smile as she stretched out on the floor, muttering something about how they’d definitely all be dead in real life if this was how they handled an actual pandemic.

“Alright,” Suguru said after catching his breath, looking between his friends. “So… Next game? No more diseases."

“Deal,” Sarah replied from the floor, raising her hand in mock solemnity. “But only if I get to haunt Satoru in the next round.”

“You already do,” Satoru quipped, earning another pillow thrown his way.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The weeks flew by as winter slowly thawed into spring, blanketing the campus in pink cherry blossoms by the time April rolled around. Between missions and exorcising curses, the four friends managed to carve out plenty of time for each other, their bond growing stronger with every shared laugh, argument, and ridiculous plan.

February brought Valentine’s Day, which Satoru treated as his personal comedy show. “Ladies,” he’d said, sauntering into the common room with his sunglasses on and a self-satisfied grin, “form a line. I know you all have something for me.”

Sarah rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck. “Oh, yeah, because we all spent so much time making chocolates for you,” she deadpanned, tossing a wrapped candy bar at him.

“Aw, Sarah, you shouldn’t have,” Satoru teased, catching it effortlessly.

“It’s expired,” she shot back, smirking.

Suguru, ever the smooth one, handed out chocolates with a calm smile and a “Happy Valentine’s,” earning a heartfelt “Aww!” from Sarah and Shoko. He even gave Satoru one, which caused the taller boy to clutch his chest and proclaim, “Suguru, you shouldn’t have! I’m not ready for this level of commitment.”

Shoko had handed out store-bought chocolates with zero fanfare, though Sarah noticed she’d gone for the fancy brand and made sure everyone got their favorite flavor. “Don’t read into it,” she’d said when Sarah teased her. “I just like peace and quiet.”

March rolled in with White Day, and if Valentine’s was fun, White Day was absolutely unhinged.

Satoru showed up wearing a bowtie and carrying a stack of carefully wrapped gifts so tall he could barely see over them. “Don’t worry, everyone,” he announced, dramatically plopping them on the table. “I went all out to make up for last month. Prepare to be amazed.”

The gifts turned out to be laughably specific and somehow perfect. Sarah got a ridiculous puzzle featuring a cursed spirit wearing sunglasses “Because it reminded me of you,” Satoru said with a wink. Shoko received a set of herbal teas, “to match her calm and soothing personality” which made Shoko snort. Suguru, however, got a beautifully crafted wooden box filled with red velvet cupcakes, which made him pause.

“Oh? All this for me?” Suguru asked, a little surprised.

“Of course,” Satoru replied, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the proud grin on his face. “I have a great memory.”

Suguru returned the favor with small, thoughtful gifts for everyone, though Satoru insisted his was clearly the best: a pair of novelty sunglasses shaped like stars. “Because you’re a star, Satoru,” Suguru said with a straight face, making Satoru beam like he’d won the lottery.

The laughter and camaraderie carried them into April, where spring painted the school grounds in pastel colors and the air grew warmer. Cherry blossoms fell like snow whenever the wind picked up, carpeting the paths and courtyards in pink petals. The start of the new school year brought a buzz of energy to campus, but for the four of them, it was just another chapter in their chaotic, wonderful lives.

Even with the added pressure of missions and the occasional all-nighter in the library, they still made time to sit under the cherry blossom trees, eating convenience store snacks and teasing each other mercilessly.

One breezy afternoon, as the petals swirled around them, Satoru leaned back on his hands and grinned. “I think we’re doing pretty great at this whole life thing.”

Sarah, mid-bite of a taiyaki, raised an eyebrow. “What part of ‘great’ includes getting ambushed by a curse last week because you stopped to admire your reflection in a puddle?”

“It was a very reflective puddle,” Satoru shot back, feigning offense.

Suguru chuckled, brushing a stray petal from his shoulder. “As long as you’re all still alive to argue about it, I’d say we’re doing fine.”

Shoko, lying flat on the ground with her arms crossed over her chest, muttered, “Barely.”

The group burst into laughter, the sound carrying on the spring breeze, as another petal landed perfectly on Satoru’s head. He didn’t notice, and no one told him. It was too perfect to ruin.

Later that week, Satoru leaned against one of the thick tree trunks in the courtyard, his ever-present sunglasses pushed up to the bridge of his nose. The petals from the blooming cherry blossoms danced lazily in the breeze, but for once, he wasn’t paying attention to the way they caught the light or how perfect they looked swirling around his head (a natural spotlight, obviously). His focus was elsewhere, his mind spinning with a question that didn’t quite make sense.

Nanami and Haibara were joining the school in a few days. That wasn’t weird; he knew those two would end up here. What was weird was the inclusion of Sarah.

She’d already been here for a while, and she’d been a constant part of his life this past year, bickering with him, laughing with him, occasionally teaming up with Shoko to outwit him, and becoming a fast friend to all three of them. But she was going to be their underclassman—the same year as Nanami and Haibara. That didn’t make sense.

In his first life, Nanami and Haibara had been the only two in their year. He could remember it so clearly. Sarah hadn’t been there then. Or… had she?

Satoru frowned, his sunglasses slipping slightly as he tried to piece it together. Maybe she’d come to Jujutsu Tech back then too, but for some reason, she wasn’t in their lives. Had she been in a different year? No, that didn’t track either. She was only a year younger than him and on top of that she definitely hadn't been in the year with Ijichi. Had something—or someone—changed her path?

His eyes darted across the courtyard as a group of upperclassmen walked by, laughing and chatting. They didn’t even notice him as they headed toward the school building, but Satoru narrowed his eyes behind his shades.

Was it them? He vaguely recognized a couple of the faces from the future, or at least the ones that had made it to adulthood. Back in his first life, he’d told Ijichi to quit sorcery and become a manager—a decision that, honestly, had been one of his better ideas. Ijichi was better off for it. But now that Satoru thought about it, Sarah had already been picked out for being weak by the upperclassmen. They'd backed off after a few "polite" warnings by Suguru and him, but that wouldn't have been an option before.

The thought made his jaw tighten. He could picture it too clearly. What if she’d been with them, out of the orbit of him, Suguru, and Shoko? What if someone had made her feel like she didn’t belong? Like she wasn’t good enough? The idea of Sarah being bullied—or worse, bullied out of sorcery—made his stomach twist.

Mostly because... He almost did that same thing to her when he met her.

“Hey,” Suguru’s voice broke through his thoughts, calm and steady as always. He dropped onto the grass next to Satoru, glancing at him curiously. “You’re frowning," he said, tilting his head.

Satoru blinked, startled, and then shrugged like he didn’t care. “I’m not frowning," he huffed, "I’m thinking. Big difference.”

“Ah, my mistake,” Suguru said, smirking slightly as he leaned back on his hands, “What are you thinking about?”

Satoru hesitated, glancing toward the school building where the upperclassmen had disappeared. “Just… weird timeline stuff," he mumbled.

Suguru raised an eyebrow. “That’s weird, even for you," he sighed.

“Don’t worry about it,” Satoru said quickly, waving him off, “I’m probably overthinking.”

But even as he said it, his gaze drifted toward the courtyard again, watching the wind scatter petals across the ground. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something—or someone—had changed the course of Sarah’s life back then. And whatever it was, he wasn’t going to let it happen again.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Kento Nanami stood stiffly in the classroom, arms crossed and posture as rigid as a ruler. His sharp gaze swept over the scene before him: a whirlwind of chaos, noise, and questionable dance moves. On one side of him, the perpetually cheerful boy—Haibara, if he remembered correctly—was wearing his bright red party hat like it was a badge of honor, grinning from ear to ear. On his other side, the girl, Sarah, had hers slightly tilted to the side, matching the playful smirk on her face.

Across the room, the three upperclassmen were the epicenter of the madness. The white-haired one—Gojo, he thought—was leading the charge, spinning in circles and flailing his arms like a malfunctioning wind turbine. Geto and Shoko flanked him, both putting in a half-hearted effort that only made the spectacle even more absurd.

Nanami sighed. Again.

“Come on, Nanami!” Haibara said, elbowing him lightly. His enthusiasm was as relentless as it was baffling. “You’ve gotta join us! It’s way more fun when everyone’s in on it.”

“I highly doubt that,” Nanami replied, his tone flat and unimpressed.

Sarah leaned over, grinning up at him. “Oh, don’t be such a stick in the mud," she laughed, "It’s not every day you get welcomed to Jujutsu Tech with a dance party. Embrace it!”

“I fail to see how this qualifies as a ‘welcome,’” Nanami said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s tradition,” Sarah shot back, though the mischievous glint in her eye suggested otherwise, “Right, Gojo-senpai?” The way she emphasized senpai, like it was some kind of inside joke, made him want to sigh again.

“Absolutely!” Gojo called from across the room, pausing mid-spin to flash Nanami an exaggerated thumbs-up. “It’s a sacred ritual for all first-years. You wouldn’t want to offend the dance gods, would you?”

Nanami stared at him, unblinking. “There’s no such thing as dance gods," he stated.

“Ohhh, Nanami,” Haibara said, shaking his head dramatically. “You’re really testing your luck with statements like that.”

“See?” Sarah added, nudging him again. “Even Haibara knows better.”

Nanami sighed again, long and deep, as if trying to summon the patience of a thousand lifetimes. He’d been at Jujutsu Tech for less than a day, and he was already questioning every decision that had led him here.

As if sensing his internal struggle, Suguru broke away from the impromptu dance circle and strolled over, a calm and collected presence amid the chaos. “Satoru is just being Satoru,” he said smoothly, his voice low enough for only Nanami to hear, “You don’t actually have to join in. He just likes to push people’s buttons.”

Nanami glanced at Suguru, appreciating the reprieve. “Thank you,” he said, his voice clipped but sincere.

“But,” Suguru added, a small smile playing on his lips, “if you do join, it’ll shut him up faster.”

Nanami blinked, then turned his gaze back to Gojo, who was now dramatically moonwalking in his direction. He sighed again, heavier this time, “I can’t believe this is my life now.”

Sarah laughed, “Welcome to Jujutsu Tech, Nanami. You’ll get used to it.”

Haibara clapped him on the back, grinning. “Or you’ll learn to love it!” he said.

“Doubtful,” Nanami muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched, just barely. He wasn’t ready to admit it yet, but a small part of him was starting to think that maybe there was something endearing about the madness.

Or well... He thought so until his first mission. Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience wearing thin. His sword was still in his hand, its blade streaked with the fading remnants of the pitifully weak curses he'd just dispatched. The small, shadowy forms were already dissipating into nothingness, leaving behind nothing but the faint, acrid scent of their defeat.

From behind him came an eruption of noise that he really should have anticipated by now.

"Nanami, that was amazing!" Haibara’s voice was full of awe, as if Nanami had just single-handedly toppled a special grade curse. "You’re so cool!"

"Seriously," Sarah chimed in, just as enthusiastically. "That slicing thing you did at the end? Chef’s kiss. Absolute perfection."

Nanami sighed, flicking the cursed blood off his blade with a practiced motion. “It was a simple exorcism. There’s no need for theatrics," he said calmly.

But Haibara was already bouncing on the balls of his feet, his face lit up like a kid who’d just seen his favorite hero in action. “No, no, no, you don’t get it, Nanami!" He insisted, "You made it look effortless! The way you just—bam!—took them all out? Legendary.”

Sarah nodded fervently, her grin wide and unrepentant. “It was super cool!" She agreed, nodding excitedly, "We gotta come up with a nickname or something for you!"

"Please don’t," Nanami replied flatly, shaking his head as he stepped toward Sarah. She was already holding out the black sheath bag for his sword, grinning like she was part of a pit crew and he was their star driver.

“You’re welcome,” she said cheekily as he slid the sword into its sheath with practiced precision.

He gave her a look, but it lacked any real heat. “Thank you.”

That was apparently all the encouragement the two of them needed because as soon as the sword was safely stowed, Haibara and Sarah launched into an animated conversation about his “technique,” their words tumbling over one another in a chaotic but strangely endearing cacophony.

“I mean, the way he angled the blade—”

“—and that calculation mid-swing? Beautiful.”

Nanami sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of long-suffering exasperation. “You’re both overreacting,” he said, but it didn’t deter them in the slightest.

Haibara tilted his head, his expression curious now. “How did you figure out your technique, anyway? It seems so… precise. Like, it’s not just something you stumble into, right?”

Nanami adjusted the strap of his sheath bag and glanced down at the younger boy. “Techniques are inherited,” he explained, his tone matter-of-fact. “I’ve understood how to use mine, in some form, for most of my life. It’s simply a matter of refining it.”

“Whoa,” Haibara said, his eyes wide with genuine admiration. “So it’s like it’s in your blood or something?”

“Something like that,” Nanami said, his tone clipped but not unkind.

Sarah crossed her arms, smirking. “Inherited technique or not, you’ve clearly put in the work. It’s impressive, Nanami. Admit it, you’re a bit of a prodigy.”

“I’m not a prodigy,” he said firmly, glancing at her. “I’m efficient. There’s a difference.”

“Efficient and humble,” Sarah teased.

He groaned quietly, already regretting letting them tag along on this mission. Yet, as Haibara’s laughter filled the air and Sarah grinned at him like she knew exactly how to get under his skin, Nanami couldn’t bring himself to feel truly annoyed. If nothing else, they made the monotony of low-grade curses more bearable.

The fight had barely cooled, the last remnants of the curses finally dissolving into the air, when Sarah clapped her hands together, her eyes lighting up with a spark of mischief. "Okay," she said decisively, "we’re getting sukiyaki."

Haibara’s head whipped around so fast it was a wonder he didn’t sprain his neck. “Sukiyaki?” His face broke into a grin as wide as the moon, “Sarah, you’re the best!”

Before she could reply, Haibara threw his arms around her in an enthusiastic hug, nearly lifting her off the ground in his excitement. Sarah let out a snort, playfully swatting at him once she wriggled free. “Of course I’m the best,” she said, her tone dripping with mock arrogance. “Obviously.”

“You’re not even pretending to be humble, are you?” Nanami muttered, his arms crossed as he watched the display unfold.

Sarah tilted her head at him, raising an eyebrow. “Humble? What’s that? Sounds boring," she shrugged.

Before Nanami could retort, she turned to Haibara with a grin. “Come on, Haibara, let’s drag Mr. Efficient-and-No-Fun over here with us," she said, "Sukiyaki is a group activity, and we’re not leaving him behind.”

Nanami immediately straightened, frowning. “Absolutely not," he said, shaking his head, "It’s already late, and we have class tomorrow morning. We should be getting back to—”

His protests were cut off as Sarah and Haibara simultaneously latched onto him, each grabbing one of his arms and linking theirs with his in a way that brooked no argument. Felt like he was instantly in the Wizard of Oz and it was time to follow the yellow brick road. And it was exactly that annoying as well.

“Oh, come on, Nanami,” Sarah said, her tone sweet but clearly not up for debate, “Live a little.”

Haibara grinned up at him, looking every bit the accomplice in crime. “Yeah, Nanami," he insisted, "It’s just sukiyaki. We’ll make sure you’re in bed before midnight. Probably.”

“Probably?” Nanami repeated, incredulous.

But they were already moving, their combined enthusiasm propelling him forward whether he liked it or not. He didn’t bother resisting. At this point, he’d learned that trying to reason with the two of them when they were like this was about as effective as reasoning with a tornado.

By the time they reached the car, Yaga was leaning against the door, arms crossed, a single eyebrow raised as he watched the three of them approach. “Do I even want to ask?” he said dryly.

“Sukiyaki,” Sarah announced proudly.

“Late-night bonding,” Haibara added with equal enthusiasm.

Nanami sighed, his expression a perfect picture of resignation. “I tried to stop them," he said quietly.

Yaga looked at him, unimpressed. “Not hard enough, apparently," he said with a huff of a laugh.

Sarah and Haibara grinned at each other as they climbed into the car, dragging Nanami along with them. As Yaga got behind the wheel, Sarah turned to Haibara with a conspiratorial grin.

“Let’s make sure Nanami gets the best seat,” she whispered loudly enough for him to hear, earning her another sigh, "Since he's the champion today."

“You two are insufferable,” Nanami muttered, though there was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as the car pulled away.

Sarah caught it, of course, and nudged Haibara with a triumphant look. “We’re growing on him," she said, settling back in the seat.

“Like moss,” Haibara agreed.

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose again, but this time, the sigh that followed sounded just a little less heavy.

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#fanfiction #writing #a03 fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #geto suguru #shoko ieiri #fix it fic #reincarnation fic

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scarabsinthestardust · 4 months ago

Text

Better in the Morning // Ch. 2

MASTERLIST

word count: 2700

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Drinking, language, arguing, insults, mentions of violence, mentions of sex, drunk creeps harassing women in bars

Over the course of the next few months, Jake and I grew closer than I ever imagined we would. We had our separate lives, giving each other plenty of space so as to not smother ourselves, but lately we had been spending more and more time together. He was attentive- we talked daily, and I was getting used to the ‘good morning’ and ‘goodnight’ texts. Since coming to Tennessee, I hadn’t had much time to explore but he remedied that, and we experienced what Nashville had to offer together.

It felt as though we never ran out of things to talk about, and we were constantly learning new things about each other. I loved that we never let the banter die down; having fun with him, joking around, pushing each other’s buttons, it all came naturally. His laughter made me feel like I was home.

Oh, he was always a perfect gentleman, careful not to overstep any boundaries, but when the time came (pretty early on if I’m being honest), the sex was phenomenal. It was full of fire and passion, and usually ended with us both so fucked out we couldn’t form actual sentences. There was a perfect balance of sensuality and roughness, being given and received on both ends. I was more than happy to let him take control, to exert that dominance that made my knees tremble and lit a fire in my gut. But being with him, exploring each other, made me realize that occasionally, I quite enjoyed reversing those roles. More than once he got on his knees and begged me to give him release. And damn, he sure was pretty like that.

The first time he brought me around to meet his brothers, there was almost an immediate connection. I really enjoyed their company and for the most part, they treated me like I had been a part of the group forever. Josh was slightly standoffish at first, but he was always kind. His personality was so different from Jake’s, but the unmistakable link between them was surreal. Sam was a goofball, always making everyone laugh. I pretended I didn’t notice the way he watched Daniel like he was the most precious person on the planet.

Even Richie was starting to warm up to Jake. I was thankful they, at the very least, had one thing in common when they could bond over guitars. The occasional grumble from Richie when Jake would flirt in front of him became less threatening, and more of something we would laugh about later.

Jake was able to witness my excitement firsthand when Richie and I finished restoring the Gretsch. He was just as fascinated when I opened the case, now cleaned and restored as well, to show it off. I watched his eyes light up at the sight of it.

The 1957 6-string electric guitar had all new hardware, including two single-coil pickups and a Bigsby vibrato tailpiece. Jake examined the wood, astonished at how smooth it all looked, like it was brand new. “It’s got a chambered mahogany body and neck, a maple top, and the fretboard is rosewood,” Richie explained, clearly proud of our work. I was especially proud of the finish, in a dark Cadillac green. Jake carefully ran his fingers along the neck, examining all the details like he was trying to memorize it. Judging from the way he looked at it, I’d bet if it didn’t already have a buyer, he would have been first in line.

With how smoothly everything was going, it figured that we would hit a road bump soon. And we did, when we had our first actual argument.

We were at a local bar with the guys, having a good time drinking and chatting, and generally shooting the shit. I made my way to the bar for another drink, Jake absorbed in conversation with Daniel. While I waited for my drink, I felt the approach of the stranger before I saw him. I didn’t turn to look at him until he spoke.

“Now what’s a pretty thing like you doing buying her own drinks? Your man not taking good enough care of you?”

I rolled my eyes and ignored him. First chance to take the hint and back off, buddy.

“C’mon, don’t be like that, gorgeous. Let me buy you a drink, and later I can show you how a real man oughta treat you.”

“I’m not interested. Beat it.” Second chance.

He closed the distance between us until I could feel and smell his disgusting breath on me. Give me just one reason, please. I was preparing to defend myself if it came down to it, as I’d unfortunately done many times before. There was never any fear, just annoyance at this guy’s utter audacity. If there was one thing that I was thankful for from my father, was his insistence on me learning how to fight.

I heard the man chuckle as he took his third and final chance before I got to the part about kicking his ass. “You sure about that, sweetheart? I think you-“

“Don’t fucking touch her.” Everything happened so fast, I barely had time to register Jake forcing himself in between myself and the stranger and shoving the man backwards. “Back the fuck off, asshole.”

The guy shook his head, deciding it wasn’t worth the trouble. “Fucking crazy,” he mumbled, disappearing into a group of patrons. I can’t say I wasn’t grateful; I had never seen Jake fight so I wasn’t sure how things would have gone on that front if that man decided to fight back. But I sure was livid.

Jake turned to me. “Are you oka-“

“What the fuck was that?”

The confusion on his face was clear but did nothing to quell my own irritation.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, Jacob. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you serious? Pardon me for trying to protect my girlfriend-“

“I don’t need your fucking protection!” I’m sure we had turned a few heads by then. I let out an exasperated sigh and marched past him, towards the exit. He followed closely, continuously trying to argue his point.

“That creep was fucking harassing you.”

“There will always be creeps in bars harassing me! I had it under control.”

“Yeah? And what if he got physical with you? Got violent? Then what? I was just supposed to let him hurt you?” He was still hot on my heels when we made it outside, the cool air a welcome change from the stuffy bar.

“Then I’d get violent right back. I know how to protect myself; I don’t need a man to do it for me!” I’m sure I was yelling at this point, but I couldn’t be bothered to care.

“You really think you’d be able to fend off someone that’s twice your size?”

“I’ve done it before! I’m not a fucking damsel in distress, Jake. I wasn’t raised like that. I’m not afraid of some pathetic, drunk asshole who isn’t even capable of walking straight!”

“Well maybe you should be! I get that you want to play the ‘I’m a badass and don’t need help’ card, but you don’t have to be stupid and reckless!”

I scoffed. “Oh, I’m stupid and reckless because I didn’t come crying to my boyfriend to save me from the mean ole’ frat boy trying to buy me a drink? I’m not the one that was trying to start a fight in a crowded bar. How do I know you wouldn’t have gotten your ass kicked?”

“I was trying to help you; don’t you see that? But fine, I guess I’ll just go fuck myself for trying to be chivalrous!”

“What you’re being is a pain in the ass.” I’ll be the first to admit I was stubborn as a mule often, when the situation called for it, but I could recognize when it was time to walk away. We were both heated for our own reasons, and I didn’t see anything happening other than the situation escalating. I was seeing red, and the more he talked the worse it got. “I’m gonna go.”

“No, Kya, wait-“ He made like he was going to reach out and touch me. Sighing, I put my hands up and stepped back.

“Jake, right now I need some space, and we both need to cool off. Go back inside, enjoy the rest of your night. We can talk tomorrow.”

He rubbed his hand over his face in frustration, but he didn’t argue. He had a dejected look on his face that tugged on my heartstrings. I wasn’t enjoying this, and I hated making him feel bad, but needed to understand this about me if we were going to make our relationship work. I refused to let anyone walk all over me, whether it be a stranger or my own boyfriend. I was sure we would talk later, and I could nip the issue in the bud and hope we could move past it.

“Goodnight, Jake.”

“Goodnight,” he whispered sadly as I walked away from the man I definitely did not want to walk away from.

I still wasn’t feeling good about the whole incident when I walked into the shop early the next morning. I should have known Richie would notice right off the bat.

“Why do you look like someone pissed in your Cheerios? Do I need to kill someone?”

I sighed. “I’m fine. Jake and I got into an argument last night, is all.”

He raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes back and forth like he was thinking. “So, I can kill him? ‘Cause I gladly-“

“Shut up,” I chuckled. “You’re not killing anyone. I’m sure we’ll talk it out later.”

“Ugh, fine. You wanna talk about it?”

Throughout my life, I could always rely on Richie to have my back for almost everything. He was the parent that I did have, the one I could open up to without fear of judgement or being brushed off. So I explained what had transpired and what was said during the argument, how I chose to distance myself, and how shitty it made me feel to walk away from Jake.

“Ah, shit. You love that fucker, don’t you?”

I groaned at his forward, but very true, assumption, bringing my head down to meet my arm on the counter. “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably?”

He patted my shoulder. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“He just made me so mad last night!”

“And I’m sure it won’t be the last time. Hell, you’re bound to piss him off plenty, too. Doesn’t mean it ain’t right. It’ll be hard sometimes but you’re tough, and if you love him, you’ll work through it.”

“When did you get so wise?”

“Ha, I’ve always been wise, young grasshopper. Now, listen up.” He lowered his voice, putting on a more serious tone. “You’ve always been bullheaded. You’re the most stubborn but one of the strongest people I know. You’ve been through some shit that toughened you up and made you into who you are now. The world you were brought up in, you needed to be tough to survive. That’s why your dad and I made sure you could protect yourself and taught you push back fear. And it’s great; it means I don’t really have to worry about you. Now, I don’t know him all that well, but I think it’s safe to assume Jacob didn’t grow up in a world like that. If I had to guess, he probably has a mom who raised him right, and raised him to be a man who, drumroll please, protects his woman. I know you ain’t used to that, but I bet he ain’t used to having a woman he doesn’t need to protect. He intervened ‘cause he cares about you.”

He was right. I knew that. I felt like such an asshole. I treated Jake badly and he didn’t deserve that. “This is where you tell me that I’ve got to learn to compromise, huh?”

“Let him take care of you, Kya.”

As if on cue, my phone buzzed. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Jake <3 – 8:13 AM

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Can we talk?

I’m sorry, too. I can come over after work. If you’ll have me.

Jake <3 – 8:15 AM

Of course. I’ll make dinner.

I smiled at his offer. He was still willing to go out of his way and put forth an effort, even after our argument. It made me feel better and gave me a little hope that I hadn’t completely fucked everything up.

It was about 6:30 PM by the time I pulled into his driveway. I swallowed my nerves, walked up to the house and knocked on the door. Why the hell am I even nervous?

It didn’t take him long to answer, greeting me with that sweet smile of his. His hair was pulled back into a messy bun, a few stray hairs peeking out, and he had a dish towel draped over his shoulder. “Hey.” He stepped to the side, allowing me to cross the threshold, and shut the door behind me.

“It smells really good in here.” He demonstrated early in our relationship that he was an excellent cook, and he really enjoyed it. He always jumped at an opportunity to cook for other people. I wondered if it would have been his calling if not for the music.

He grinned. “Thanks. It’s Bolognese. Uh, it’s got to simmer for another ten or fifteen minutes, but it’ll be ready soon. Do you… want a drink? You know, since you never got the one you ordered at the bar last night?”

I furrowed my brow. “Shit, you’re right. I forgot about that drink.” I noticed him fidgeting with his fingers, picking at the cuticles. He’s nervous, too. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I pulled him to me so I could plant a kiss on his lips. “I’ll take you up on that drink. Surprise me.” I smiled sweetly at him, the interaction seeming to calm both our nerves.

He brought me a glass of Amaretto on ice. “My favorite. Suck up.”

Laughing, he retorted, “Babe, I’ll gladly suck up to you however I can, whenever you want me to.”

“I’m not complaining.” Rubbing my thumb across the glass, I averted my gaze to my lap. “I’m sorry about last night, Jake. I know you had good intentions, and I overreacted. I don’t want to make excuses, it’s just not something I’ve had a lot of experience with, someone standing up for me like that. I had to learn how to fend for myself when I was really young. It’s not an easy mindset to break. But it doesn’t give me the right to act like a bitch.”

Jake leaned back on the couch and tilted his head back. “If I’m being honest, I think I was jealous.” He drew in a deep breath. “I saw that guy practically breathing down your neck and it pissed me the fuck off. He had no right to be that close to my girl, you know? But you were right, you had it under control. I shouldn’t have gotten involved like that. And I don’t think you’re stupid or reckless. That was really shitty of me to say. I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

Finishing off my drink, I placed the glass on the table and leaned into him. His arm landed across my shoulders, and I rested my head on his chest. “Of course I forgive you. I hope you can forgive me, too. I just need you to trust me, let me do my thing. If you can promise me that you’ll try, I promise to try to let you do your thing, too. To let you take care of me.”

He pulled me into a tight hug and kissed the top of my head. “I can definitely do that.” The beeping of a kitchen timer rang through the room. “C’mon, baby, let’s eat.”

#gvf #jake gvf #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #gvf fanfiction #josh kiszka #danny wagner #sam kiszka #josh gvf #sam gvf #danny gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction

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